Gorgoroth (Haladras #2)

THIRTY-SIX

Part of Skylar wished the soldiers had shot Endrick and him on the spot. He didn't know what the empress would do with them, but he knew it wouldn't be merciful. Already the blaster wound in his back had inflicted severe pain, and the throbbing showed no sign of letting up. Endrick's legs were of no use to him. And his face showed that he, too, was suffering.

The soldiers promptly arrested the injured pair and took them into one of the outpost buildings for questioning. Despite Endrick's legs, the soldiers handled him roughly, dragging his stout bulk when his legs failed him. They were brought into a sparse room, with a desk, a few chairs, and an assortment of charts pinned to the back wall. For several tense minutes, they stood there.

"I don't supposed you'd let a man with broken legs sit in one of those chairs?" said Endrick.

He grunted as one of the soldiers struck him in reply.

Skylar clenched his fists at his side. If there were anything he could have done or said to help his friend...

The stamp of boots sounded outside the room. An officer burst through the side door, his face red and his stride stiff. He walked right up to Endrick and stared him down.

"Are these the two miscreants wreaking havoc on my landing field?" he demanded, speaking through Endrick.

"Yes, commander."

He struck Endrick across the face with the back of his hand. Then came over and did the same to Skylar. The blow momentarily blinded Skylar. His ears rang with the sting of it. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.

"If I didn't need answers from you two, I'd tear out your tongues with my own hands," he growled.

He turned his back to them abruptly.

"Who is in the ship, and where are they going?" he continued.

Neither Skylar nor Endrick responded. The commander whirled around, his face livid.

"I said, who's in the ship!" He lifted his arm again to strike Skylar.

Skylar tried, but failed to keep from flinching. He closed his eyes and waited.

The blow didn't come. Tentatively, he opened his eyes again. When he did the commander's expression had transformed. The commander was looking at him, studying him intently. After a moment, he broke off his gaze and marched over to his desk, where he retrieved a letter, and examined it.

He looked back at Skylar, his eyes narrowed.

"You're Ahlderion, aren't you?" he said. Skylar swallowed, but remained silent.

"Aren't you!" he shouted.

Seeing Skylar's intent to remain tight-lipped, the commander signaled to one of his men. Skylar turned just in time to see one of the soldiers take a cudgel and strike it across Endrick's leg.

The howl of pain which escaped Endrick's mouth could have made even the hardest heart bleed.

"Leave him alone!" plead Skylar, fighting to break free of the men who held him bound so he could help Endrick. "I'll talk. Just let him be."

The commander held up his hand for his men to halt any further abuse of Endrick.

"I am Ahlderion," said Skylar with a sighed. "I'm the one you're looking for."

The commander gave a triumphant sneer.

"Prepare a transport," he said. "Immediately."

No doubt as to where the transport was bound or for whom it was intended existed in Skylar's mind. He berated himself for not being quick-witted enough to handle the commander's interrogation. Even now, he wished he could collect himself to form a plan of escape. If nothing else, a way to save Endrick. But the jabbing pain in his back addled his brain and weakened his resolve to continue fighting.