Book 2: Chapter 77: Blind

Book 2: Chapter 77: Blind

“Bring her back,” growled Carmen, staring down at the woman in the chair. She couldn’t have been more than twenty years old, and once upon a time, she’d been quite lovely. And she would be again once Keith was done with her. She glanced at the Healer, seeing hesitation on his face. “Now.”

“I’m not comfortable with this,” he said, wringing his hands. He’d already brought the woman back from near death a half-dozen times, and as far as Carmen was concerned, he would do so a half-dozen more before they were done. And a hundred more after that. It would keep going until she gave Carmen what she wanted.

“I don’t care. Do it.”

“Carmen...”

All it took was a scathing glance before he went silent. Then, he used his healing spell – Carmen had no idea what it was called – and the mostly-dead woman gasped in surprise. Keith kept channeling the spell until she was back to perfect health.

“Please...I didn’t...I had no idea...I didn’t want to –”

Carmen didn’t care about the woman’s excuses. She’d never even asked for a name. All she knew was that after that despicable excuse for a human being had taken Miguel, they’d lost him in the woods. However, their search had yielded some results when they’d found two women trying to hide nearby. They’d been cloaked in some sort of skill meant to camouflage them, but all it took was the direct attention of one of Silverado’s scouts to strip them of the effect. Laid bare, they’d quickly surrendered.

Since then, they’d learned the error of that course of action.

One was already dead, the result of Carmen letting her temper take over and push her much too far. And she’d come close on more than one occasion with the other, which was the woman sitting right in front of her. That was where Keith had come in.

Carmen had beaten the woman near to death so many times that her knuckles had cracked and broken under her own Strength. And yet, the ally of that monster had refused to reveal anything. It would have been admirable if Carmen wasn’t so furious – with herself as much as with the Outlaw who’d kidnapped her son. And with Roman, who’d doubtless ordered it.

With the world itself.

So, she took it out on the helpless prisoner she’d tied to a chair.

At first, it had been an attempt to get information, but it had quickly devolved into something much worse. Something far more primal. Once, she’d have looked down on anyone who used such methods, on those who would let their emotions get the better of them when confronted by evil. Now, she embodied that wrath more than she’d have ever thought possible.

It wasn’t surprising.

Alyssa’s death had changed her, and in more ways than she wanted to contemplate. Before, she’d looked at the world with a fair amount of optimism. But now? That seemed like such an alien viewpoint that she couldn’t understand how anyone could see the world through such rose-colored glasses. And when she’d seen Trace fleeing through the woods with her son thrown over his shoulder, Carmen had snapped.

It had almost cost Colt his life. He’d been so thoroughly injured that it took Keith and the town’s other Healer nearly six hours to save him. Even then, he wasn’t entirely whole. Meanwhile, Carmen had stomped through the woods in a vain attempt to catch a man whose very existence screamed of an ability to hide. He was a rodent. A pest that needed to be exterminated. Yet, like all pests, he was incredibly difficult to pin down.

So, when the two accomplices had been found, Carmen hadn’t wasted any time before employing the worst of the worst interrogation tactics, and to almost no effect. Sure, she’d discovered some pertinent information, like the fact that Trace was the head of some sort of secret police in Easton. Or that he’d been sent – along with what sounded like a harem of young and beautiful apprentices – to spy on Carmen. What was unclear was whether or not he’d chosen to kidnap Miguel on his own or if it had been part of the plan.

“Where did he go?” she asked, pulling back her fist. She hit the woman again, breaking the delicate bones in her face. “Where is he keeping my son?”

“I...I don’t...know,” she muttered, spitting blood with every syllable. “I didn’t even know...”

Carmen hit her again.

And again after that.

It was the same answer, over and over again. So, she kept going until, at last, someone grabbed her arm. Then, when that wasn’t enough, a second person joined in. And a third. In all, it took four people to restrain her, and even they were barely capable of the job.

Colt, injured and pale, screamed, “We know where he went! You don’t have to do this!”

That cut through her fury. “What?” she spat, her eyes wild. “Where?”

“We found a trail,” Colt stated. “Heading toward Easton. That’s where he’s going. I’m sure of it.”

“Kill her, then,” Carmen growled.

“No, ma’am.”

“What did you just say?” she demanded, still struggling against the people restraining her. She glared at the tall, slim man. “Do you know what she did? Do you understand –”

“She didn’t do anything,” Colt said, his voice calm. “The one responsible is Trace. This girl is a victim, same as anyone else. You know that.”

“I don’t,” Carmen responded. “I won’t...I can’t...”

“You can’t sneak into the palace. You’re a samurai, remember? Not a ninja.”

Colt ground his teeth, clearly frustrated. Carmen could agree on that front. However, she also knew there wasn’t much either of them could do about it. They only had one chance to get Miguel back, and that meant they needed to put everything on the line.

“You could send someone in to talk to him. Negotiate,” Colt suggested.

“You think he’d listen?” Carmen asked. “The only way to deal with somebody like Roman is from a position of strength. He doesn’t understand anything else. Besides, he needs to die. I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.”

“We’ll get Miggy back,” Colt insisted.

“I know. Or I’ll tear Easton down to get him,” she said. However, in the back of her mind, Carmen knew that wasn’t feasible. She had power, but it wasn’t the sort of strength she would need to take on a whole city. Even in a one-on-one fight, without all the support that came with running a city, she would come up short against someone like Roman.

But that was why she’d made allies. Now, it was time for them to live up to their side of the bargain. So, she directed Colt to move on. He didn’t need directions because he knew as well as anyone where to find the warband. Everyone did, even Roman and his people. Yet, they maintained a tentative peace because neither side wanted to give up their advantage by pushing an attack. For Roman, that meant he and his forces remained in Easton where they could defend from a position of strength. Meanwhile, the warband – which was called the Crimson Eagles – stayed just close enough to the city to pose a credible threat.

By any measure, it was a cold war.

Carmen intended to apply some heat.

With that in mind, they soon arrived at their destination, which was an old mall that had been converted into a veritable fortress. The alterations weren’t pretty – not like Easton – but they were functional, with rough walls and towers made of timber. Guarding the compound were hundreds of combatants, each with a raw and ragged look about them.

Carmen understood it. These people had been fighting since the very beginning, and without much in the way of safety. But they weren’t the villains Roman and Easton’s council made them out to be. Instead, they were composed of castoffs and undesirables as well as the people who’d vowed to protect them.

Quite a few had been turned away from Easton at one point or another because they didn’t have useful classes. Most of the fighters were the men and women who refused to abandon family and friends who’d been denied entry.

There were also a few bandits in there. A couple of people who only wanted to murder, pillage, and raid. Though Carmen had been assured that those were kept on a tight leash, their presence was still a point of contention. However, with what was on the line, she wasn’t nearly as concerned as she might’ve once been.

“Something is wrong,” Carmen muttered.

“What?” Colt asked. “I don’t –”

Just then, a flight of arrows erupted from the surrounding woods. Some hit the trucks with the power of gunshots, but most targeted the tires. Colt slammed the truck in reverse, but it was no use because, only a moment later, someone leaped out from behind a rock. He was an enormous man, wielding a giant hammer that he sent on a collision course with the truck’s front end.

The head of the weapon hit with resounding force, tearing through the hood and destroying the engine. At the same time, a bunch of men and women wearing the armor Camen and her people had created descended on the other truck with merciless fury. Carmen’s people tried to fight back, but against such a focused and sudden assault, they were powerless.

Colt leaped from the truck’s passenger seat, drawing his sword at the same time. He lashed out, slicing the giant, hammer-wielding man to pieces with Blade Storm, but a second later, someone tackled him to the ground. Meanwhile, Carmen dove free of the trick, summoning her blacksmithing hammer. But before she could bring it to bear, she had someone clinging to both arms.

In a second, they had forced her arms behind her back and shoved her to the ground.

Furious, Carmen looked up to see Laramie, the man behind the warband, looking down on her. He was a tall and muscular man with dark skin who favored armor that made him look like he’d stepped out of a Mad Max movie. But he had clear, intelligent eyes that belied the barbaric appearance of his armor.

“What are you doing?!” she demanded, struggling to free herself. It was useless. Whatever they’d used to bind her arms was stronger that steel. “We’re in this together!”

He loomed over her, saying, “We were. But things change, Carmen. We got a better offer.” He squatted down. “I hate Roman. I want to see him dead for all the things he did. But I’ve got people to feed. Civilians to protect. And he can give us that. You can’t.”

“You asshole! He took my son!”

“He took a lot of sons. Daughters, too,” the leader of the warband said. “But the reality of survival doesn’t care about that. I’d hoped you would understand, even if you didn’t want to accept it.”

Then, he pushed himself to his feet and called for the prisoners to be taken away. That included Carmen, and though she struggled, she was incapable of escape. Instead, she and Colt were half-dragged, half-escorted into the mall before someone shoved the both of them into a makeshift dungeon that had once been some long-closed clothing store.

“I’m sorry,” Colt said. “I keep failing you.”

Carmen didn’t respond. Instead, she turned her attention to their surroundings. The former store had been stripped of everything but a few mannequins, and the entrance was guarded by a roll-down cage. Moreover, both she and Colt – the only two survivors – were bound so tightly that neither could properly move.

That’s when the reality of her situation hit her. Her capture had probably sealed her son’s fate. If he wasn’t dead, he soon would be. And she wouldn’t be far behind him. Colt hadn’t been the only one to fail.

“There’s a lot of that going around,” she muttered.