Chapter 29. Mind Games

acing had done nothing to alleviate his anxiety and boredom.  Pendaran alternated between sitting on the hard wooden shelf of the alleged bed and wearing an invisible rut into the stone floor before the lattice of gleaming iron bars.  The cell was roughly ten paces square.  Three of its walls were made of dour gray bricks.  The fourth was forged of an iron grate of crossed bars with a single locked entrance at its center.  It looked out into a room with a desk and a pair of grim little chairs.  He had sat in the more subordinate of the two as his jailor had chattered at him officiously while filling out paperwork.  Pendaran still had no clue what, if anything, he had done wrong.  Three such cells gazed into the grim little office.  A heavy door dominated the wall opposite the desk and from there guards and officials came and went as the hours crawled by.  There were no windows so he had soon lost track of time.  The only source of light was four torches spread evenly upon the walls outside the cells and these were renewed every few hours.

He had heeded the advice of his friends and had put up no resistance.  Other than being shoved a few times, he had been treated relatively well.  At least his hands were no longer bound.  Sighing, he rested once more on the bench, watching the big door and waiting.  What had Zhou been told and would he be able to do anything on Pendaran’s behalf?  He tried not to imagine what would happen if they decided to keep him indefinitely.

When the torches were renewed for the fourth time, a bowl of water and thin rice gruel were passed into his cell on a tray pushed through a small gap in the bars near the floor.  Having dozed off on the bench, he rose groggily and slaked his thirst, grateful for something to moisten his parched throat.  He had not eaten since before the ceremony and he choked back the bland gruel before retreating to his comfortless perch.  Cold and stiff, he rubbed his arms as the tray and dishes were taken away and he was left alone.

Curling back up on the bench he reflected upon how maddening this time alone in a silent cell would have seemed to him before Luitha.  He resolved to stay calm and performed the longest of the centering mantras, finding comfort as it renewed his connection to Zhou.  He knew his master would do his best to free him.  Worrying would not change anything now.

Eventually he dozed off again and was awakened by the clatter of keys in the lock.  A pair of guards had come for him and he wondered what they had been told for they radiated fear.  Pendaran rose and stepped away from the wall, hoping they would not treat him too harshly.  When they saw he did not plan to resist, he sensed their relief.  They did not bind his hands behind his back this time, but locked them to a belt of chain around his waist.  Flanked by the two burly men, he walked calmly from his cage and was led out through the wide door into a dim corridor.  They walked in silence and did not harass or otherwise try to hurry him along.  He observed the small clubs swinging from their belts and wondered how eager they would be to use them if he showed any sign of resistance.

The emerged at the end of the hall into a sunlit room lined with benches and a large imposing desk facing the door and windows and the world outside.  His throat clenched at the thought that he was only a few paces from freedom.  It was a waiting area, he realized, and it was empty.  Now he was directed into an adjoining room.  Its richly ornamented walls and gleaming wood floor were in stark contrast to a heavy chair with a collection of unpleasant looking bindings.  It was bolted to the floor before a long bare desk on which were set out a collection of gleaming metal instruments.  A contrasting padded chair was on the opposite side and a robed figure reclined there comfortably.  He raised a long fingered hand and gestured to the dreadful chair.

So it was to be torture.  Pendaran swallowed as his heart began to race.  He stumbled as the guards grasped his arms and pulled him toward the chair.  What did they hope to gain by doing this?  He tried to remain calm as manacles were exchanged for straps, his limbs and head and back each pressed harshly against the unyielding wood.  The guards departed and the door was locked behind him.  Pendaran gazed down at the man.  He was clad in long flowing robes of deepest black, his head and face concealed by a hooded mask that depicted a vicious creature with rows of tearing teeth and slitted eyes.  His hands were steepled before him on the desk but the pinkie finger of his right hand twitched involuntarily, a faint movement that might go unregarded normally.  It was something Pendaran had seen before.

“Your master has taught you well,” the man said, his Tyrian only slightly inflected by the softness of a Canthan accent, “I remarked it odd that you revealed no sign of fear until this moment.  Most people would have showed some strain before now.”

“Why am I here?”

“That depends upon how cooperative you are.”

Pendaran swallowed, trembling as the man reached for one of the items spread out on the desk.

“Cooperate and this could all be a big misunderstanding,” the man continued, “or resist and oddly, you have been found guilty of spying for Ascalon.”

Pendaran might have laughed if he had not been scared.  How could anyone believe that Ascalon had spies let alone a functioning government?

“Spying is a very serious offense.  I am afraid your guilt would result in immediate execution.”

“I have done nothing wrong,” Pendaran replied.

“If you are innocent, why are you here?  My sources are aware of several bounties on your head.  It could very well be that returning you to your homeland is also a death sentence.  And even if you were innocent, Master Kai, a foreigner may not attend a sacred Canthan ceremony without the blessing of the Celestial Ministry.  Furthermore, you work as an unlicensed mercenary with no guild affiliation in our illustrious city.  You see, there are several reasons we can hold you.”

“Then fine me and have done with it.  You know I have not been spying.”

“Master Kai, I find this business odious.  We both know torture is barbaric and unreliable, but in certain circumstances it is unavoidable.”

Pendaran closed his eyes, trying to calm himself.  He realized that once the torture started it was over.  There was no way they would release him to Zhou broken or damaged.

“Wise,” the man said quietly, “By all accounts you are an excellent student.”

Pendaran clenched his teeth.  The man was a mesmer and he was prying.  A cold focused point of energy thrust into his mind, causing Pendaran to gasp in pain.  Nevertheless, he was able to block it.  He recognized the feel of that mind, had tasted its harshness before, although not with such force.

“What do you want?” Pendaran asked.

“The Ministry has some concerns about your master.  Who better to question than his prized adept?  Is it true that you are linked by oath as a Lyssan pair?”

Pendaran suddenly felt uncooperative.  He was angry and frightened.

“May your ancestors curse your name,” he snapped in Canthan.

The man laughed coldly.

“I asked a simple question, Peng Ren.  You should answer it.”

“Die, pig.  I’m not afraid of you or your torture.  I’ve faced worse than mere men.”

“Have you, indeed?  If you are not afraid, why are you trembling?”

“My body fears, but I do not.  You have already lost if you have to resort to torture.  Now end this charade and let me go.”

“You are remarkably like your master,” the man said coldly, “Nevertheless, you have revealed much.  Farewell, Master Kai.”

Pendaran swore as the man departed, leaving him alone and vulnerable.  The door slammed.

“Farewell, Master Tan,” Pendaran growled under his breath.  He remembered their first encounter at the Ministry of Earth, the sound of the man’s voice, smooth and cold, the feel of his sharp prying gaze.  He had to warn Zhou.  He tested his bonds, releasing his rage in a fruitless and ineffective attempt to move. 

The light shafting through the high window grew dim, marking the passage of time.  He occupied his mind with mantras, determined to remain calm.  As twilight fell, the door opened to the tramp of several pairs of feet.  One was a guard judging by the jangle of keys, the others were most likely clerks or possibly his torturer although he did not sense the piercing cold of Tan’s mind.

“Peng Ren!” cried Zhou’s voice, his fear palpable to Pendaran.

“I’m unharmed,” he soothed, “but I would like to be released.”

Zhou swore, his emotions uncharacteristically roiled.

“Did I get charged with spying?” Pendaran asked as the guard released him.

“Did they threaten that?” Zhou choked.  There was something wrong with his master.  Why had Pendaran’s imprisonment caused him so much grief?

“Yes,” he said, rising stiffly from the chair.  His hands and feet tingled painfully but he was grateful when the guard departed and it became obvious he was free to go. 

“Did they harm you?” Zhou demanded, looking him over.  Xiang Yi drew toward Pendaran but he waved the monk politely away.

“I’m tired and stiff, but otherwise fine.”

Zhou embraced him stiffly, the strain of grief and worry fading from his face at last.

“If their goal was to scare me, they succeeded,” Zhou said coldly, “Come, let us leave this place before they change their minds about releasing you without charges.”

“Did they ever say what I was charged with?”

Zhou shook his head, slowing his pace to accommodate Pendaran’s stiffness.  He moved as quickly as he could, aware that Zhou was eager to get away from the ministry.  They filed past the ornate buildings on their way to Raisu and his hair stood up on his nape as he sensed they were being watched and followed.

“Will they attack us?” Pendaran whispered.

“No, something is stopping them.  Please, Peng Ren, do not speak now.”

He nodded, aware of the fear creeping back into Zhou’s voice.  He wanted to comfort the man but sensed it would only embarrass him and it was an empty gesture.  If something was bad enough to frighten his master, then Pendaran should take heed.

The three of them sighed with relief once they reached Kaineng and met up with Zhou’s usual retinue of warriors and magi.  That evening everyone who had come with him to Nahpui was present and they cheered to see Pendaran back among them.  Kazuma and Mashiro each embraced him roughly. He was variously asked if he was well or had been harmed to which Zhou finally told them to leave Pendaran alone.  In good spirits, they fell in step around Zhou and set off for home.

“I believe Master Tan from the Ministry of Air is involved somehow,” Pendaran told Zhou, “It was he who intimidated me and he wanted to know about you.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes.”

“I am sorry this happened to you, Pendaran. I feared my enemies would begin harming people around me and I am trying to get everyone to safety.”

“I know, Master. Don’t blame yourself.”

“If anything happens to me, please just leave.  It is too dangerous for you to seek revenge.  Promise me that.”

“Master, so long as I draw breath, I will stand by you and protect you.  I will not see you pass into torment.  I vowed that I would do whatever I could to prevent it.”

“Pen, please, it is not your responsibility to save me from my sins.  You have a wife and children now.  You have my permission to go on with your life and leave me to my punishment.”

Pendaran finally lost his composure.  Perhaps it was the lack of sleep and food and the hours of being alone and helpless, but the very thought of Zhou going unjustly into eternal torment was too much.  Tears slid down his cheeks and anger spilled over.

“If you are cut down now I will take my fury to the feet of the gods.  You do not deserve to suffer, I have seen the goodness that lies inside you.  I will not make any such promise.  And by the gods, you will not be slain while I am beside you.”

Zhou shot him a pained look but said nothing more.  He was closed to Pendaran now.  He swept the tears from his face and resolved to regain his calm.  Now was not a good time to talk of such things.  In the morning when they were both rested and safely inside the compound there would be much to discuss.

But Pendaran would not back down.  Tired or not, he had meant every word.