I stepped back again as the heartbeat pulsed and Norvet Meruun crept forward. Fleshy tentacles waved out ahead of me, as though reaching to find me. I didn't like the idea of what might happen if they did. "I will send you back, Ssserakis. Once I am done."
You promised.
"And you said we are stuck together until I die. Well, I refuse to die until my enemies have paid their price. The Terrelan Emperor must pay. The Iron Legion must pay."
Ssserakis was silent, but I could feel the horror considering my words. On that last we agree.
I left something unspoken, a part of the truth that I knew Ssserakis would not understand. It was not just about making the Iron Legion pay for what he had done to us. I had to save Josef. I just couldn't leave my friend to die a second time.
Chapter 10
I would never attempt to take anything from Josef's ordeal. Even before we separated, before I pushed him away, down in the Pit, he had his own struggles. I refused to see it back then. I couldn't see past my own misery. When drowning in pain and hardship, it becomes easy to view it only from one point. To become so insular, that you fail to realise that others are struggling in different ways with different demons. This is especially true for the young. Down in the Pit, Josef was terrified, not just for himself but also for me. We were both brutalised, beaten by petty thugs for no reason other than to break us. We were both tortured by the Overseer, only Josef's torture was often more physical than mine. One thing I must give the Overseer, the man knew how to break Josef. And he did. I'd like to say I don't blame him for that. That it wasn't his fault, and anyone would have broken. But I didn't. Not quite. Age has tempered my fury somewhat, and though I do still blame him, I have also forgiven him.
But as I have said, his ordeal was far from over. I cannot say if his suffering at the hands of the Iron Legion was worse than my own. The things I went through made the Pit look like an easy summer nap. But Josef was kind at heart. He could be brutal and merciless when it was needed, but he was always kind. He never wanted the deaths on his hands. Maybe that is where we are so different, he and I. He was forced to take lives.
This is one of Josef's memories.
"Do you know how much a life is worth?" Loran said. Josef hates the sound of the man's voice almost as much as he loves it.
Josef shrugs. He's already tried to find a way out. Tried and failed. He's stuck there. Trapped. Alone save for prisoners and the mad man who keeps them. The walls bow first outward and then in again, just like they had in the ruined city next to the Pit. He's travelled down every hallway and investigated every room, but there's no way out. The Iron Legion has used Geomancy to seal them in.
"I asked you a question, Yenhelm," Loran snaps. Josef shoots him a hateful glance. Loran is busy at his desk, grinding something in a small clay mortar. There's a sharp, tangy smell on the air, like vinegar left out for too long.
Josef looks away before Loran can see the hate in his eyes. Best not to anger him. Just like back in the Pit, it's best to keep his head down, try not to be noticed. "I didn't realise you expected an answer. You already know I don't have one."
"It is rude to ignore a person. Especially when they are trying to educate you." Josef didn't ask to be educated. He doesn't want to be educated. Loran doesn't care.
"A life is priceless," Josef says. How could anyone put a price, a value on life? He paces back and forth, stealing glances at the desk over Loran's shoulder. There's little else in the dark room except for a few sputtering torches and endless bookcases. "It is impossible to judge its worth, because it is subjective. Your life means nothing to most of the people of Ovaeris, yet you place a price beyond all others upon it. The life of an abban is worth a fortune to a farmer, even more to a starving man, but nothing to a king."
"I didn't ask you for philosophy, Yenhelm. I asked you for mathematics. I followed your progress at the academy, and I know you excelled with both letters and numbers. And your Biomantic knowledge outstrips almost any but my own. So, I ask you again. Do you know how much a life is worth?" Loran glances over his shoulder and there's a hard light to his eyes. An implied threat told with only a brief glance. Josef shivers and looks away.
He draws in a deep breath and lets it out as a sigh. "Thirteen." A flippant answer. That will just make Loran angry. He shouldn't have said it.
"The correct answer, Yenhelm, is no. You cannot possibly know the worth of a life as you have not done the calculations." Loran grinds the pestle angrily into the mortar.
Josef looks inside himself for the hundredth time since being taken from Do'shan. He can feel the Biomancy inside, something powerful and innate. It is a school of magic that is most often used to heal, repair the body and grant new energy to the patient. But there is a darker side to Biomancy. Just as it can be used to heal, it can also be used to harm. Flesh can be convinced to become wounded. Seeds of decay and rot can be planted. Disease can be nurtured into bloom. Loran's back is turned. Josef reaches out, his fingers just a whisper away. He tries to bring his innate Biomancy to bear, to force its power to harm, to unmake. But it slips away from him, resisting his commands. He can't control it, not like when he has a Source inside.
"As a Biomancer, committed to the science of healing, it surprises me you are not more interested in the mathematics, Yenhelm." The Iron Legion continues, heedless of Josef's attempt to end him. He hates this man. For everything he has done, and everything he is trying to do, Josef hates Loran.
A glass bottle lies nearby. And empty wine bottle long since drained. Loran drinks heavily some days, though never shares why. Josef wraps his fingers around the neck of the bottle, tests its weight. Is it heavy enough to kill? He doesn't know. He's never hit anyone before. He creeps forward, arm raised, hands trembling.
"For instance, how much is a life worth in terms of raw materials? How much is a life worth in terms of vigour or spirit? What about potential? All of these are pertinent questions that need answering for the advancement of the science. Until now, no one had the necessary combination of skill and will."
Josef hesitates. Can he really do it? Can he really kill a man like this? In brute force and blood. To save his life. To save all the lives of those trapped in cages. One strike might not be enough. What if the bottle breaks? Then he could stab Loran with it.
"But then of course there is more to it," Loran continues, still working away at his desk, standing with his back to Josef. "For instance, have you considered that the life of a terran may not be equal to the life of…"
Josef strikes.
The bottle shatters in Josef's hand as it connects against an invisible kinetic shield that Josef didn't even know was possible. He sags back, shards of glass falling to the floor and others left jutting from his hand. He stares at the glass in his hand. There's no pain. Then there is! Josef grits his teeth and clutches at his wrist, hissing at the molten agony piercing his hand.
"I'm disappointed, Yenhelm," Loran says without turning around. "But not surprised. I had hoped you would see the importance of what I am trying to do and help me willingly." The Iron Legion turns and there are hard, unyielding lines to his ancient face. "But then willing cooperation can be coerced."