In the previous episode, Gremlaw brought back an unconscious Ancestor after encountering thousands of tents on their way to find his wife and daughter. Determined to find out where they took her, readers voted that he said, “I’m going to find out what they’ve done with my wife and daughter,” and drew a wicked-looking knife.
Mar-Tshi-Srin gasped as ice-white moonlight glinted from the foot long blade he held casually, Dornoyen looked at the other man with distaste akin to treading barefoot on a rotting corpse,
“What in hell’s name do you think you are doing?” the captain demanded. Gremlaw splashed cold water on the Lost Ancestor he had abducted and slapped him awake,
“I’m going to find out where my wife and daughter are, if it kills him.”
“Not with a dagger, I forbid it.” Gremlaw fixed Dornoyen with a cold stare,
“This is Lavash,” he stated, gesturing around with the glinting knife “You’ve got no power over anyone here.” He turned his attention back to the Lavashian who sputtered and coughed up water.
Trapped like a cornered animal, the Lost Ancestor, who Gremlaw had not restrained, bellowed through his rage, pain and fear, leaping at Gremlaw who crouched closest to him. Mar-Tshi-Srin could not believe anyone was able to move as fast as Gremlaw did then, her eyes were unable to follow what each of his limbs did as he rolled with the tattooed man, using the man’s own momentum against him. In a flash of blurred motion, Gremlaw had managed to maneuver himself behind his assailant, wrenching his arm back painfully and forcing his wrist into an awkward position. Gremlaw rested his other armpit on top of the other man’s shoulder, the knife weaving like a cobra ready to strike.
“Two or three days past,” Gremlaw hissed into the Lost Ancestor’s ear, “My wife and child were brought this way by three of your kind,” his hate-filled words bit into the man, who flinched, “Tell me where they are, or where they’re being taken and you can return, unharmed, to your people.” His perfect Lavashian was not lost on his captive, however he remained silent. Gremlaw nodded, a grim expression on his face.
A low moan escaped from the Lost Ancestor’s lips as Gremlaw lifted his strained arm even higher, pulling and twisting, stressing the joints until they threatened to separate. He brought the tip of his knife up, resting it on the man’s lower eyelid.
“Have you got a wife? Children?” Gremlaw whispered into the other man’s ear like a lover spilling his heart out. Unwilling to nod due to the knife’s position he simply whispered,
“And if they were taken from you,” Gremlaw continued, “Can you imagine the lengths you might go to in order to get them back?”
“I can imagine,” the captive Lavashian’s voice shook.
“And can you imagine the awful things you might be capable of inflicting on the people you blamed for taking them from you?” Gremlaw’s voice was terrible to hear, a compassion-less whisper like wind through dead trees. The other man swallowed and whispered back,
“Y-yes.” Gremlaw pressed his cheek to the other man’s face as if they were lovers, remaining silent, building the fright up in the man he held,
“I’m not playing games here,” he said, “If I don’t get what I need from you, I will go back and find your wife, your children, you understand?”
“Yes,” came the reply as a tear rolled down the knife blade.
“So where is my family?”
The captive Lost Ancestor told Gremlaw he had seen the cart, it had been through the camp of tents, halting once to speak to the general in charge before continuing north. It had been driven northwards into the Ancestral lands, possibly towards Gul-Maz.
“This is all I know, I swear!” the man begged.
“I believe you,” Gremlaw said, taking the knife away from his eyelid. He wrapped his arm across his captive’s throat, cutting off his air supply, holding him as his thrashing body fell into unconsciousness once more. He gently lowered the man to the ground and covered him in a blanket after making sure he was alive. Leaving the man’s dagger and a small pouch of food on his chest.
Dornoyen had watched the whole exchange in awed horror, he had no idea this usually mild-tempered man could become the frightening torturer he had just seen,
“What would you have done if he had not told you anything?” the captain asked as Gremlaw packed his saddlebag. Without even pausing to consider his question, Gremlaw answered,
“Put his eye out, broken his wrist, dislocated his shoulder, sliced his flesh from his bones until he did.” Mar-Tshi-Srin gasped, her normally large eyes widening in shock.
“You are out of control.” Dornoyen stated. Gremlaw just nodded in agreement,
“Quite possibly,” he conceded while tying his blanket to the rear of his saddle, “It’s what happens when a normal man has everything he cares about taken from him,” Gremlaw sneered, “Imagine if your dear Argrotiern was lost, how would you feel?” Dornoyen took a step towards the other man but thought better of it after what he had just witnessed.
Mar-Tshi-Srin had managed to gain control of herself a little,
“What will you do now?” she wondered. Vote below on what will happen next or if reading in email click Take our Poll.