pitchforks had not Hagen, alerted by the fuss, arrived and ordered that the senseless man and the
screaming child be imprisoned in the Worship Hall cellar. ―He might tell us if there are other
Forbidden about,‖ Hagen had said, ―don‘t worry, Artor will protect us from his evil sorcery.‖
Hagen‘s words proved correct and, in the days since the capture, the villagers not only
became increasingly bold about their prisoners but also reworked the story of their capture until
it was their bravery that had captured the creatures, not a combination of panic and ill-luck.
Axis nodded impatiently. ―Yes, yes. I‘m sure your men are extraordinary.‖ Two against
eight did not seem a great battle to him. ―Now, let me see these creatures.‖ He almost pushed his
chair over in his haste to rise. Belial was already hovering by the door.
Hagen rose more slowly. ―We have interrogated them extensively, BattleAxe, but have
learned nothing. The beasts refused to answer any of our questions. We will all be relieved when
we can put them to the torch tomorrow.‖
Even in his haste to get to the door, Axis noted that Azhure had blanched at the mention
of the burning.
Hagen led the group outside and across the courtyard to the Worship Hall. The back door
was unlocked and Axis glanced questioningly at the Plough-Keeper.
―Be assured we have them under close guard, BattleAxe. They will not escape.‖
The Hall was empty of people and their steps echoed across the stone slab floor as Hagen
took them across to a stairwell and then down to the cellar. Axis, his heart racing, almost pushed
the Brother in his impatience to reach the bottom of the steps.
But well before he reached the cellar a sickening stench caused him to choke
momentarily. ―What?‖ he began to ask, but Hagen was leading him off the stairs and across a
large windowless cellar. The rear quarter of the cellar, partitioned off with sturdy metal bars and
normally used as a lock-up for drunken husbands, was now being put to a more vile purpose. The
stench that came from the barred cell was overwhelming, and Axis had to cover his nose and
mouth until he acclimatised himself to the smell of old blood, stale urine and faeces. Every time
Axis encountered unnecessary cruelty it sickened him—and he could smell it now in this cell.
When he finally managed to look at the cell, he was not surprised to see that Ogden and
Veremund had managed to find their way down there before himself. Hagen was obviously
overjoyed to see two of his fellow brothers and exclaimed with delight as he hurried over to
them, pointing into the cell as if showing off prized pets. Axis could see that both Ogden and
Veremund were white with anger.
Axis finally gathered himself and looked more closely—and within the space of a
heartbeat he completely and utterly lost his temper. Huddled in a corner, as far as they could get
from the iron bars, were a dark man and a small female ch ild of alien although attractive
features. They were naked, filthy and covered with bruises and abrasions. Looking briefly at the
long iron bars that the two village lads, acting as guards, held, Axis realised that Hagen‘s
―interrogation‖ probably consisted simply of poking and prodding the two until pain made them
confess to whatever crime Hagen had in mind. Obviously no-one had been inside to clean the
cell, or to offer the two the simple decency of a bucket for their bodily needs. Sores running
across their lips and down their faces suggested they had not received any water in the four days
since the good people of Smyrton had imprisoned them in this iron-barred chamber of horrors.
For an instant the strange man‘s eyes, full of velvet darkness, met Axis‘ through the iron
bars of his cage.
―You curdled clot of whore‘s piss,‖ Axis snarled, reaching over to Hagen with one hand
and slamming him back against the bars of the cell. ―In whose name do you dare to treat anyone
like this?‖
Hagen went as white as the underbelly of a fish. The BattleAxe‘s hands had him pinned
so viciously by the throat that he could hardly breathe, and the BattleAxe was leaning over him
with a look on his face that suggested Hagen was not long for this world. Blood trickled down
his neck where his head had been pushed roughly against the iron bars. He could feel the hilt of
Axis‘ sword pressing painfully into his ample belly.
―What?‖ he gulped, unable to comprehend why the BattleAxe had reacted like this. The
two village lads on guard stood helplessly to one side, stopped from trying to prise the BattleAxe
off their Plough-Keeper by his lieutenant, who looked almost as furious as the BattleAxe
himself.
―In Artor‘s name,‖ the Plough-Keeper finally managed to whisper. ―They are filth,
beasts, there is no point in treating them as if they understood what was going on. This is all they
deserve.‖
Axis‘ face was white with fury. Did Artor call for such treatment of prisoners? ― You are
filth, Brother Hagen,‖ he spat at the terrified man and, seizing him by his hair and the cloth of his
habit, hurled him against the far wall of the cellar where he crashed senseless to the floor. The
Goodmen Hordley and Garland cowered back against the steps of the stairwell, terrified that
Axis would attack them next, but the woman Azhure stood her ground, retaining her composure
before Axis‘ fierce stare. ―I have brought water and food every day for the past four days,‖ she
said calmly, indicating a bucket and tray of food standing unused by the foot of the stairwell.
―But Hagen would not let me minister to them.‖
―Then get the water now,‖ Axis said gruffly, and turned on his heel to the two guards.
Both of them backed up to the wall, patently horrified. What had they done wrong?
―Belial, will you get the keys to the lock off these craven deformities that think to call
themselves men?‖ Axis said tightly. ―I do not trust myself to get too close to them.‖
The guard holding the keys voided in sheer terror when Belial snatched the keys from his
hand. Belial turned and spun them through the air to Axis, their eyes meeting in complete understanding as Axis caught the keys. Whatever either might have thought about the people in
this cell, no-one ever treated prisoners like this, nor did anyone ever imprison a child that could barely walk.
Axis turned and slipped the key inside the lock; he felt Azhure at his shoulder with the
bucket of water. Goodman Garland gasped in horror as the lock swung free. ―They are
dangerous, BattleAxe! Do not go in there!‖
Axis turned and caught Garland‘s eyes. ―You do not know what danger really means,
Garland,‖ he said quietly but menacingly. Garland paled and shut up.
Ogden grabbed Axis‘ arm. ―Axis, I beg of you, let them go!‖ he whispered, his face
completely distraught. Forgetting that Azhure was right behind him and within easy listening
distance, Axis grabbed Ogden‘s hand and threw it off his arm. ―That‘s hardly a sentiment the
Seneschal would approve of is it, Brother Ogden?‖
The woman frowned at the exchange, but the next moment Axis had thrown open the
door of the cell, leaving his sword and axe by the door, and was walking slowly across the filthy
space towards the pair huddled in the corner. Azhure slipped in behind him, and Belial stepped
up to guard the door.
Axis turned and caught Azhure‘s arm as they were halfway across the cell. ―Wait here,‖
he said quietly, and took the bucket of water from her.
Axis hesitated before he moved over to the prisoners. He had always wondered how he
would react to the Forbidden. Now, instead of the anger or fear that the Seneschal had taught
him, Axis found himself regarding these two with sympathy and, even more confusingly,
empathy. Looking into the great dark eyes of the man, Axis discovered that he was incapable of
hating or even fearing this man.
Raum watched as Axis approached. He had recognised the black uniform emblazoned
with the twin axes as soon as the man had stepped into the cellar. That uniform had not changed
in over a thousand years, and every Avar was raised to fear and loathe it. Yet, just when Raum
was about to commend himself and Shra to the Sacred Grove for eternity, everything had
exploded in a direction that he could never have foreseen. The BattleAxe had seized the
Plough-Keeper and had half-murdered him in a rage that would have done a Horned One proud.
And now, after Raum and Shra had endured four days of unimaginable terror, pain and thirst, the
BattleAxe had disarmed himself and was approaching with a bucket of water in his hands and
sympathy in his eyes. Raum hugged Shra to his chest protectively. She had been unconscious for