"Tell me something I don't already know."
"Now, now," said Purdun, trying to smother a self-satisfied smile, "I only did to you what you were planning to do to me. You were outsmarted and beaten in a fair fight. Don't be a sore loser."
Liam lashed out, grabbing for the baron's shirt. "You killed my brother."
Purdun's eyes went wide, and he lunged back. Reaching for his hip, his hand grasped at something Liam couldn't see. One moment, the baron was unarmed. The next, he stood on guard, a rapier materializing in his hand as if out of thin air.
The pain of losing his brother drove Liam forward. In a blink he sidestepped and grabbed hold of the bell of Purdun's blade. Knocking it aside, he lunged for the baron's throat. "I'll get-"
His words were cut off when his feet left the ground. The baron's massive bodyguard grabbed Liam by the back of the vest, wrenched his hands off Purdun's neck, and lifted him in the air. Liam was helpless, dangling a gnome's height above the floor like a baby kitten.
Purdun stood several steps away, his sword pointed at Liam. His carefully coifed hair hung now over one eye. His shirt sat cockeyed on his chest, crumpled at the neck where Liam had grabbed hold.
The baron pushed his hair back out of his face. "I'd rather you didn't do that again."
Liam's arms and legs swung freely. He craned his neck to look back at the gray-skinned creature. The bodyguard held him off the floor with only one arm and apparently little effort.
Liam looked back at the baron. "Or what?"
Purdun took a deep breath, looking a little exacerbated. Then his face broke into a smile, and he laughed.
"I like your spirit." He turned his rapier around and slipped the tip back toward his belt as if he were placing it into a sheath. The blade disappeared slowly, looking as if it were being swallowed by an invisible snake. When the hilt reached his hip, it too vanished, and the baron's fencing belt once again appeared to be conspicuously empty of weapons.
Purdun straightened his shirt and collar and collected himself, then he nodded to the bodyguard. "Put him down."
The creature released Liam, and he fell to the ground, landing on the wooden floor with a thud. Liam scrambled away from the bodyguard and lifted himself to his feet.
Purdun looked him over from head to toe, spared a glance at his bodyguard, then took a step toward Liam, holding the key out.
"Please," he said pointing to Liam's shackles, "I'd prefer if you weren't wearing those."
A shudder ran down Liam's spine. He'd heard about this sort of thing.
He took a quick glance around the room. The other guards were still motionless in their alcoves. The door he'd come in was closed and presumably locked. The only other way out was the stone archways in the far wall that looked out on the bay and the ships in the harbor. It was a long way down-too far for Liam to jump.
Liam shuffled away from the baron. "Is this some sort of game?"
Purdun stopped, still holding the key out before him. "Game?"
The brutality of Purdun's elite guard was common knowledge. Liam had heard the tales of Captain Phinneous letting prisoners free only to claim they were trying to escape. He'd let them get into the courtyard, then sound the alarm. From what Liam had seen on the way in, a prisoner wouldn't stand a demon's chance in heaven of getting out. Anyone caught in that courtyard would be picked to pieces by the first volley of arrows. After that, there probably wouldn't be much left. It was a sick game, another abuse of power and another way to dehumanize the citizens of Duhlnarim.
Liam held up his hands. "Why drag me in here and shackle me, only to let me go?"
Purdun grimaced. "I apologize, Liam. It was never my intention to chain you up."
"I'm not going to give you an excuse to torture me. I'm not going to try to escape."
One of the freighters in the harbor began to weigh anchor, its chain clanking as it rose out of the water. Liam looked out the window, once again longing to be aboard that ship bound for a new place.
Purdun chuckled. "Is that what you think this is?"
Liam's attention came back inside the room. He never would have imagined his life ending like this. Three days ago, before he'd jumped out to attack the carriage, he knew that his actions could get him killed. Somehow though, he figured his end would be a bit more heroic.
He looked Purdun in the face. "There's no one here except you, me, and your goons. You can do what you want to me and make up whatever story you like. You don't need me to play along."
Purdun waved his hand, and the bodyguard took several steps back. "Liam, I have no intention of harming you."
"Then what did you bring me here for?"
Purdun stepped forward again and grabbed Liam by the wrist. Liam jumped back but not before the baron had unlocked and released his right wrist. The shackle swung free.
"I brought you here, Liam," said Purdun, "to offer you a job."
Liam stopped his retreat. "A job?"
Purdun nodded. "Yes, Liam. I want you to join my elite guard."
Liam wasn't sure he had heard the words right. "You want me to join your guard?"
"That is what I said," confirmed the baron.
Liam laughed. "What makes you think I'd want to join your elite guard?"
Purdun shrugged. "The money."
Liam was confused. Less than a tenday ago he'd attacked one of the baron's carriages, and somehow that had qualified him for entrance into the baron's elite guard. "Are all of your thugs ex-criminals?"
Purdun smiled, ignoring the question. "You'd get the best training and the best equipment. Three square meals a day, and extra provisions for your family. You could improve that run-down house of yours. Get your mother a proper wardrobe. Buy your father a new horse."
"I don't think you get it, Purdun." Liam narrowed his eyes. "I despise you. I hate everything you stand for. It's you who made my family suffer in the first place with your laws and taxes. And now you come to me with an offer to make their life better, bring their lives up to the level they deserve." Liam spat on the floor. "You step on our throats, suffocate us, then act as if you were doing us a favor by letting up, allowing us to simply live. Then you have the audacity to ask me to help you suffocate the rest of Erlkazar." He lifted the open shackle and placed it back on his wrist. "No thank you. I would rather live the rest of my life in chains than be party to such villainy."
Lord Purdun took a deep breath. "Well, Liam, I can certainly understand your position." He placed the key in the shackles and locked them once again. "But it's a standing offer. If you change your mind, you know where to find me." Purdun placed his hand on Liam's shoulder and directed him toward the door. "Come."
Liam didn't budge. "Where are you taking me?"
"I'm escorting you to the front gate, Liam." He smiled. "To make sure you make it out of Zerith Hold safely."
Ryder sat in the bowels of Lord Purdun's dungeon, his legs chained together, his wrists chained together, and the chains chained together. Beside him on the wooden bench were two similarly chained men-one muscular and bald with the tattoo of a blue triangle on his forehead and the other skinny and sickly.
In fact, the entire dank, dripping room was filled with manacled men. They sat side by side by side, three to a bench, twelve benches in all, each man chained to the next. They all wore the same identical clothing: dirty gray baggy hemp pants and matching sleeveless shirts. Down one side of the floor a huge shirtless man, bulging with muscles, paced the narrow walkway between the prisoners. His chest was crisscrossed in old scars, and he carried a whip in his right hand.
"All right, you vermin," started the man. "There will be no talking, no whispering, and no complaining." He cracked his whip against the stone floor. "If you're here it means your life is no longer worth a piss. So until we manage to find someone stupid enough to pay good money for your wasted, worthless hides, you belong to me." He turned and paced back toward the front of the room. "And I'm none too happy about having to spend the next several months with a bunch of criminal low-lifes, inhaling your fumes and watching you wallow in your own filth. Marching several hundred miles across the open plains ain't exactly a picnic with a fair maiden for me either. So mind that you don't make me angry, and you might just make it to your new home in one piece."