Chapter 15
Before she made contact, a spark came to life in the guard's eyes and he grabbed a fistful of her hair with forceful indifference. "I'll say when enough is enough!" Before she could so much as cry out, he forced her to the ground, head first.
"Make a move and the boy will meet a fate worse than death."
Raidon froze mid-step, the weight of the guard's words keeping him anchored in place.
Releasing his mother, the captain stepped toward Alistar but paused thoughtfully. Looking over his shoulder and following the guard's gaze, Alistar saw that the older man lying on the ground was just beginning to stir. The captain was at his side before he was able to push himself up off the ground.
"You know," he began with an empty voice, "back home they used to call me weak. Weak! Can you believe that?" Having just regained consciousness, the older man didn't know how to respond. No one could be sure exactly who the guard was speaking to. "Just because I was the youngest, they called me the weakest. Because they thought me the weakest, they branded me useless. Useless! Second-hand equipment, third rate inheritance, and now this talk of permanently pawning me off at this lousy mine.
"I..." the man mumbled, disoriented.
"Oh, the injustices I've had to put up with. Well, I wouldn't expect slaves such as yourselves to understand." Somewhere amidst his ranting he had begun patting the older man's head, the light clap of skin on skin accenting his now gentle words in a most peculiar way. "Tell me, dear friend." He lifted the man's chin and made it so that their eyes met. His voice deepened. "Do I seem weak to you?"
In lieu of words, the man shook his head, fast. The look on his face left Alistar in a fit of cold sweats. Nearby noise was blocked out. It seemed as if the only things that existed were the two men in front of him.
"It seems we're of the same mind." He shook his head with a ghost of a smile. "I am not weak. Weak is being unable to take action. Weak is being too frightened to do so. Weak is helplessly allowing yourself to take constant abuse, to labour past the point that the body can handle, but saying nothing out of fear for your life. To me, weak is...this."
Perhaps because Alistar had been so focused on the bald man's expression, it caught him off guard when the red-haired man produced a small knife from his sleeve and lodged it deep into the defenseless man's throat. As if he were cradling a newborn, the captain of the guard held his victim's head in place as he shook quietly. Choked gurgling sounds filled Alistar's ears despite the noise that drifted over from the rest of the line.
When Alistar had nicked his arm after falling within the crevice, he had been both scared and fascinated with the stream of blood that had trickled down his arm. That was the most he'd ever bled in his life. The blood from that time didn't even come close to comparing with the amount that seeped out of the body in front of him. If he wasn't there to see how much blood had pooled around that hairless head, he would never have believed that a person's body held so much.