Author's Nightmare: Chapter 133 (Patreon)

Shango POV: Day 104

Current Wealth: 222 gold 0 silver 37 copper

Say one thing for Byror, he didn’t waste time. Not much at least. I was marched off-road and onto a carriage within the minute, and far from the point of my abduction in only three more. His vehicle was a lot more comfortable than ours. Or, as Solitaire would say, insecure. The walls were pretty wood, not clumsily bolted iron. The whole thing seemed to glide over the ground, rather than shiver each time its extra tonne of weight was rocked an inch too far, and the air within lacked that dirty, metallic reek I’d come to grow accustomed to. 

The company, of course, was a downgrade. Byror didn’t share it with me, which was definitely the smart choice on his end. Instead I got to enjoy the presence of four men who each individually looked like they’d sworn an oath to do one push-up every time they breathed through their mouths. 

Fortunately, I wasn’t riding with them for long. We soon arrived at Byror’s mansion. 

Not as big as mine. Somehow, that took the edge off the moment. Phelia’s house was broader, and just as tall. The grounds were the real difference though, and probably a good acre removed from the new Belahont headquarters. It didn’t do anything to diminish Byror as a threat mind, but it felt good enough. I soaked in more while being ushered in through the building itself, though didn’t get much noted down before we finally came to his office. 

It was a nice room, well decorated and warm against the winter. But it felt icier than the taverns me and my brothers had spent our first days shivering away in. I took the seat gestured to me- opposite Byror’s desk- and readied myself for whatever was coming. 

I wasn’t waiting long.

Byror dropped himself down facing me, and smiled. 

“We both know where this is going, I think.” He noted, with the tone of a man who thought he knew more than he did. “I need your secrets. All of them. The secrets to your technology, your tactics, your brother’s impossible growth. Give them to me, and I will have no further incentive to harm you.”

I thought about convincing him torture didn’t actually work very well, but decided against it. If the C.I.A wouldn’t let themselves be told that in the twenty first century then some fucking feudal caveman certainly wouldn’t. 

“And if I refuse?”

It was so obviously what he wanted me to ask that it would’ve been rude not to. Besides, if I kept on not giving him what he wanted, his ego might’ve gotten pricked. Stupid people with pricked egos and power over others were a disaster in the making. 

With a gesture, Byror had a door opened and passed. Through it came a large group. Three of it were tall men whose bodies clinked with thick steel plates, each of whom had physical stats in excess of a dozen. Between them was a terribly familiar face.

Tall, as ever, wiry as ever, and vibrating, as ever, with the concentrated urge to kill every single person on the planet. Solitaire was bound in thick enough chains to hold the mega-troll as they hauled him in. He looked around the room with the sort of expression I’d expect to find in the eyes of a rabid dog. It barely softened as he recognised me. 

I didn’t soften at all, in turn. There was some part of me that rejoiced at the sight of him but it was deep and buried, and through no great effort on my part. I’d figured out what Solitaire had turned himself in for- figured out he’d thrown himself away to save Phelia- and I loved him for that. 

But now wasn’t the time for love, not even for a brother’s. The icy tendrils tightened their grip on my thoughts, keeping me calm and clever. I turned my gaze to Byror as if Solitaire was no more than a poker chip. 

Byror, it seemed, was dumb enough to buy the act. 

“As you can see.” He said, sounding about one third as confident as before, and only slightly angrier, “We have your brother.”

“I knew that already.” I sighed, as if he were being incredibly tedious. “But you should know he’s not the best way to hurt me.”

The noble stared at me, almost offended.

“Do you take me for a fool?” He snapped, “I-”

“Solitaire pinned my wife against her desk.” I cut in, crushing his words under mine, “And threatened to break her fingers. He held her like this- terrified- for minutes all over nothing more than a suspicion. You’ve heard the stories. He’s a mad dog, and if he weren’t so useful to me I’d have had him put down long ago.”

“Bastard!” Solitaire snarled, thrashing against his chains and almost making me flinch. There were few things in the world more terrifying than watching him lunge for you when you’d seen him fight. If it was an act, it was good enough to fool me. At least in my moment of panic. 

Certainly, it fooled Byror. 

“You…This is the man you’re partnered with.” He whispered.

For one, single, stunning moment I understood Byror, and he understood me. We looked at each other not as enemies, but as two men who were both in the presence of Solitaire. Basking in the snarling, screaming, jagged bundle of nuclear misanthropy that was my friend and leaning on one another for mental support. Hugging in the eye of the storm. 

Then the moment passed, and we were all business again. 

“We all make concessions.” I shrugged.

Byror was quick to adapt at least, if only by moving on to the second most obvious chip. 

“And yet we still have your wife, too.”

I tensed at that, all deliberate and controlled. Nodding after a moment.

“You do.” I replied, speaking through carefully tightened teeth and vocal chords. If I do say so myself, I did quite a good job of making the words sound reluctant. I did care about Phelia of course, but…Well, that care was as distant now as everything else. If emotion gets in the way of thought, better to throw it away and pick it back up when it’s useful. Of this, I am the master. More than Solitaire, more than anyone. My mind does nothing I don’t want it to. 

And in that moment, I wanted it to do nothing but think. 

“I can offer you…Some schematics.” I said at last, taking my time as if it was a difficult choice. 

“The fuck you can!” Solitaire roared, then gasped as someone hit him. I resisted the urge to look over instantly, turning my head slowly, instead, to make sure he was uninjured with a colder and more lethargic eye. Our gazes met for a moment, and I flashed him the quickest, shortest expression I could. Anyone else would have missed it- because eye blinks were faster. Solitaire flashed me one back to let me know he’d seen. 

I turned back to find Byror was smiling, which was an entirely expected response. Everyone smiled when they thought they were winning. It was a good sign. 

“Excellent.” The noble beamed. “I might have expected as much, of course. Word has already begun to spread of you and yours you know my Lord. It is rather well known, even now, that you are the reasonable brother.”

The reasonable brother. What a curious thing to be known for. I just shrugged.

“I suppose I am.” And I supposed truthfully. Without another word, without asking for permission, I got up. Byror beamed wider.

“By all means, make your way out. We’re not holding you prisoner, after all! Indeed, you’ll find a carriage awaiting you outside.”

I’d known all that of course, with Solitaire already prisoner they’d want to ensure whoever else they strong-armed for information had a path back to the laboratory where we were developing all our technologies. It had been a few more layers of guesses and hopes than I was typically comfortable with, mind, but then I’d been doing a lot more of both than I’d ever have wanted to since coming to Redacle. It had paid off this time, at least.

Solitaire swore after me for each and every step I took to the door, and I just ignored him too. Better that than look back. Now, above all other times, I had to keep up my feigned indifference. 

The plan relied on Solitaire, after all. And if the enemy got even a whiff what it was I doubted he’d survive the night. The temptation to volunteer just how much of our technology was stored specifically in his head was almost irresistible.

But I did resist, because indulging the urge to protect him in the short-term would doom him in the long. I was cold, clever, and calm. And for the time being I was free.