B4: Chapter 6: Quite Undeserved Intimidation Tactics

Chapter 6: Quite Undeserved Intimidation Tactics

The moment her mouth opened to scream, I moved with inhuman speed. One instant I loomed over the Duke's bed, the next I materialized beside the terrified girl. My left hand shot out, palm clamping over her parted lips before any sound could escape. The force of my sudden appearance sent her stumbling backward against the doorframe.

One of my dragon-headed tendrils snaked through the air, positioning itself mere inches from her face. Its metallic jaws parted to reveal rows of gleaming teeth as a low, threatening growl rumbled from its throat. The girl's eyes went impossibly wide, tears already beginning to spill down her cheeks as she stared up at my towering form.

Keep calm and keep quiet, I whispered into her mind, my telepathic voice carrying the weight of absolute authority. Do exactly as I say, and no one will get hurt.

Her entire body trembled against my palm, but she managed a shaky nod. Terror blazed in her brown eyes as they darted between my masked face and the mechanical dragon head still growling beside her cheek.

From the bed behind us, the Duke's voice rang out with paternal irritation.

"Kolin! Are you bullying your sister again?" The old man propped himself up on his elbows, squinting through the darkness at our forms near the doorway. "How many times do your mother and I have to tell you to behave in a dignified way? Honestly! If it isn't your sister, you're terrorizing the servants! Behave yourself this instant!"

I ignored the rambling old man, keeping my full attention focused on the girl pinned against the doorframe. Her chest rose and fell in rapid, panicked breaths beneath her nightgown, but she remained perfectly still otherwise.

I'm going to remove my hand, I told her in that same deadly tone. You will answer my questions truthfully and quietly. If you scream, if you try to escape, if you do anything other than what I command... I paused, letting another tendril drift closer to her throat. I will kill you.

The words left my mind like a casual observation about the weather, though part of me recoiled at the threat. I told myself it was merely a bluff, a necessary intimidation tactic. Yet deeper down, in the darkest corners of my consciousness, I knew the promise carried weight. She was a Redflight after all, cut from the same corrupt cloth as Kolin and Lyman. The entire bloodline represented everything I despised about the nobility.

The girl nodded frantically, fresh tears streaming down her face. Slowly, I withdrew my hand from her mouth while keeping my tendrils positioned threateningly around her. Their metallic heads continued to hiss softly, fangs glinting in the moonlight streaming through the windows.

Who are you? I demanded.

"L-Leilana Redflight," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Youngest child of the honorable Duke Redflight."

I nearly scoffed at her use of "honorable" to describe the man I'd come here to destroy, but I suppressed the reaction. Instead, I activated Analyze, probing her status screen for confirmation.

Name: Leilana Redflight

Level: 12

Class: Bookman

Species: Sapien [Human]

Age: 16

The information matched her claim exactly. A Bookman class suggested scholarly pursuits rather than combat training, which explained her relatively low level for someone of noble birth. More importantly, Analyze detected no deception in her words.

Your father, I continued, glancing toward the bed where the Duke had resumed his one-sided conversation with invisible companions. He suffers from dementia, doesn't he?

Leilana's eyes darted fearfully between my masked face and her father's prone form, as if expecting me to strike him down at any moment. She nodded reluctantly.

How long has he been like this?

"Five years," she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. "Ever since my eldest brother Neik died from sickness, Father's been getting worse. Now he's... he's completely gone. He talks to shadows, remembers things that never happened, forgets that his sons are..." She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

My frown deepened behind my thorny crown mask. If she spoke truthfully, and her genuine distress suggested she did, then Barson Redflight would have been far too mentally compromised to orchestrate Kolin's mission to steal Mallie's War Academy invitation two years ago. That meant Kolin had acted entirely on his own initiative, probably hoping to impress a father who could no longer even recognize reality.

The same applied to Lyman's quest for revenge. Rather than following paternal orders, he'd pursued his vendetta out of personal grief and rage over his brother's death.

If your father is in this condition, I pressed, trying to process these revelations, then who runs his territory?

Leilana swallowed nervously before answering. "Most of Father's duties have been divided among his senior aides. They handle the day-to-day affairs of governing, tax collection, trade negotiations... everything really." She paused, glancing down at her hands. "Eventually I'll take over from them when I'm older, since I'm the only Redflight left now. But at the moment, I'm still too young and inexperienced."

The information hit me like a physical blow. I had traveled here expecting to confront the architect of my suffering, the corrupt nobleman who had sent his sons to terrorize innocent villages. Instead, I found a broken old man lost in the fog of mental illness, entirely disconnected from the crimes I'd attributed to him.

For years, I had built up Duke Barson Redflight in my mind as the ultimate villain, the source of all injustice in this corrupt world. He represented everything wrong with the nobility: their arrogance, their cruelty, their casual disregard for common people's lives. I had made him into a symbol worthy of my hatred and fear.

Yet the reality proved far more mundane and tragic. The dreaded Duke was nothing more than a sad, mentally shattered old man who couldn't distinguish between his living daughter and his dead sons. He posed no threat to anyone, commanded no armies, issued no cruel edicts. He was simply another victim of time and grief, as powerless as any peasant in Weath.

The revelation tasted bitter and raw in my mouth, like swallowing broken glass.

Leilana's trembling voice cut through the Duke's rambling monologue like a blade.

"You're the creature who killed my brothers."

The words hung in the air between us, heavy with accusation and grief. I looked down at her properly for the first time since entering this room, really seeing what stood before me. Not another corrupt Redflight noble deserving of my wrath, but a frail, frightened child whose entire world had been shattered by my actions. Her tear-stained face looked up at me with a mixture of terror and desperate courage, the kind that only emerged when someone had nothing left to lose.

The weight of shame crashed down on me like a collapsing mountain. Here I stood, twelve feet of divine fury and mechanical death, terrorizing a sixteen-year-old girl who had done nothing worse than bear an unfortunate surname. My dragon-headed tendrils still hissed and growled around her, my massive form casting shadows that swallowed her small figure entirely. What kind of monster had I become?

In answer to her question, I nodded slowly. The simple gesture seemed to deflate something inside her, confirming what she already knew but had perhaps hoped wasn't true.

Your brothers didn't leave me much choice in the matter, I said, my mental voice carrying less menace than before. The words felt inadequate, almost pathetic when spoken to someone mourning their family. Yet they remained true. Kolin had tried to murder children in Weath. Lyman kidnapped my friend, torturing him in order to lead me into a trap. Both had chosen their paths knowing the consequences.

Leilana's composure finally cracked completely. She fell to her knees, her hands clasped together in desperate supplication.

"Please," she sobbed, her voice rising dangerously. "Please spare my father. He's done no wrong! He doesn't even know where he is anymore! He's all the family I have left! I'm begging you, please don't-"

Be quiet! I snarled, my telepathic voice booming inside her skull with enough force to make her wince. The girl immediately clamped her mouth shut, though tears continued streaming down her face in silent rivers.

Guilt twisted in my chest like a poisoned blade. She was right to beg for her father's life. The broken old man posed no threat to anyone, could barely distinguish reality from memory. Yet I needed her cooperation, and the only tool at my disposal was fear. I hated myself for it, but I pressed forward anyway.

I need information about Antos, the mayor of Weath.

She looked genuinely confused, blinking through her tears. "What about him?"

Your father's men took him prisoner when they investigated Kolin's death. What did they do with him?

Understanding dawned in her eyes, followed immediately by more confusion. She shook her head frantically. "I... I don't know. I'm sorry, I wasn't even aware that the mayor of Weath had been arrested. Father's aides handle all the legal matters now. They don't tell me about every person who gets brought in for questioning."

A low growl rumbled from my throat, echoing through the mechanical jaws of my tendrils. The sound made Leilana flinch backward against the doorframe.

Find out, I commanded. Now.

Her eyes went wide with fresh terror. "I... yes, I can check the record books in Father's office. The aides keep detailed records of all legal proceedings there."

Do it. Quickly.

Before she could leave, I moved one of my tendrils closer to her father's sleeping form. Remember what happens to him if you do anything else besides what I've ordered. If you sound any alarm, if you try to escape, if you so much as breathe wrong...

"I understand!" she whispered frantically, then rushed from the room as fast as her shaking legs could carry her.

I extended my Mind Sight to follow her progress through the mansion. She entered what appeared to be her bedroom first, throwing on a heavy robe to cover her nightgown before hurrying downstairs. Her bare feet made soft padding sounds against the cold stone floors as she navigated the darkened corridors.

The Duke's voice continued behind me, growing more animated as his delusions deepened.

"Kolin! Your sister told me the most astonishing thing! Apparently, there is a child living in Weath that was given an invitation to join the War Academy! Isn't that the strangest thing?"

My blood turned to ice water in my veins. Through Mind Sight, I watched Leilana push open heavy oak doors leading into a large study, but the Duke's words held my attention like a vise.

"Imagine, a commoner, no older than eleven summers, invited to such a prestigious institution! It's as I have always told you, boy! Hard work pays off!"

The old man's tone shifted, becoming stern and disappointed. "You do nothing all day but squander your potential. You need to be more like your elder brothers. Neik is my heir and Lyman studies at the War Academy. What have you done, eh? Spent more of the family's money?"

In the study below, Leilana had opened several drawers of a massive desk and begun pouring over leather-bound ledgers, her finger tracing down columns of names and dates. But I could barely focus on her search as the Duke's rambling continued.

"Ha! Here you are, with all the privilege that my name can afford you, and all you do is waste it! And out there, a little girl with no surname is showing you up! You should be ashamed! Work harder, son! Lest you further shame the name of Redflight!"

I cringed as the pieces fell into place with horrible clarity. This conversation, or one very much like it, had been the catalyst. The Duke, in his diminishing mental state, had probably repeated this same lecture to Kolin countless times. The comparison to a peasant girl who had earned what he could never achieve through birthright alone. The shame of being outshone by someone he considered beneath him.

No wonder Kolin had been so determined to steal Mallie's invitation. In his twisted logic, he hadn't just been claiming what he thought he deserved; he'd been trying to prove his worth to a father who could no longer even recognize him.

The revelation made my stomach churn with sick irony. The Duke's dementia hadn't just robbed him of his sanity; it had created the very monster who would eventually face my wrath.

Through Mind Sight, I saw Leilana closing the ledgers and rushing back upstairs. Her breathing came in harsh gasps as she ran across the mansion, taking stairs two at a time in her desperation to return quickly. She burst back into the bedroom, her face flushed from exertion.

"About a year and some months back," she panted, "an Antos of Weath was admitted to the city jail on charges of conspiracy. He stayed for a few weeks while the magistrates went over his case. Ultimately, they found him guilty and he was sentenced to fifty years in the city prison."

Rage exploded through my consciousness like wildfire. Fifty years. They had sentenced a kind old man to die in prison for the crime of being a convenient scapegoat. Antos would never see Weath again, would never tend his small garden or share drinks with his neighbors. All because some coward needed someone to blame for Kolin's death.

I want him released, I growled, my tendrils snapping forward threateningly. Immediately.

Leilana looked terrified at my vehemence. "The process could take days! I would need to have the aides write up a letter, then deliver it to the magistrates for approval, who then have to deliver the order to the prison warden-"

My patience evaporated completely. I loomed over her small form, my full height casting the room into deeper shadow. Your father is the Duke! I roared into her mind, the telepathic shout making her whimper and clutch her head. Use his name! Use his authority! Get Antos freed now!

"Yes!" she cried out, nodding frantically. "Yes, I'll do it right away!"

Before she could flee again, I reminded her one final time. Remember what happens to your father if you betray me.

Leilana rushed downstairs once more, this time heading straight for the study. I watched her pull out fresh parchment and a quill, her hands shaking as she began composing a letter. Her penmanship, despite her terror, remained elegant and precise, obviously the product of noble education. She signed the letter with a flourish, then opened a drawer to retrieve an ornate ring bearing the ducal seal.

The wax melted and hardened under the impression, creating an official document that carried the full weight of Redflight authority. With the letter complete, she rushed through the mansion until she found a guard stationed near the front entrance.

Their conversation was brief but animated. Leilana thrust the sealed letter into the man's hands, her voice rising as she gave him urgent instructions. The guard looked confused by the late-night summons but didn't question orders bearing the Duke's seal. He quickly departed for the stables, secured a horse, and rode hard toward the city.

I watched his torchlight disappear into the darkness, carrying Antos's freedom with him into the night.

***

Four hours crawled by in tense silence. I remained motionless beside the Duke's bed, a dark sentinel watching over his peaceful slumber. The old man's face had relaxed into contentment, whatever demons plagued his waking hours banished by sleep. His breathing came steady and even, hands folded across his chest like a man at prayer.

Leilana had changed into a proper dress during the wait, trading her nightgown for burgundy silk that matched the family colors. She perched on the edge of a velvet chair, her spine rigid with nervous energy. Her eyes darted between my hooded form and her father's sleeping figure, as if afraid one of us might vanish if she looked away too long.

The mansion settled around us with the occasional creak of old timber and distant footsteps of patrolling guards. Through Mind Sight, I tracked their movements across the grounds, noting the careful patterns they followed, the way they avoided certain shadowed corners. Professional soldiers, well-trained but not expecting trouble from within their own walls.

Then I sensed movement beyond the estate's perimeter. A heavy vehicle approached through the darkness, wheels grinding against cobblestone and gravel. Two horses pulled the burden, their hoofbeats echoing off the surrounding buildings as they drew closer to the Redflight gates.

The black carriage that emerged from the gloom bore the unmistakable marks of a prison transport. Iron bars covered windows that were barely large enough to peer through. Reinforced wood panels formed the walls, dark with age and weathered by countless journeys between cells and courtrooms. Two armored guards rode the driver's bench, one holding the reins while the other kept a crossbow within easy reach.

At the front gates, the estate guards recognized the official vehicle immediately. They pulled the heavy iron barriers aside without question, allowing the carriage to roll up the curved driveway toward the mansion's entrance.

They're here, I whispered to Leilana.

She jerked upright in her chair, color draining from her cheeks. "Already?"

Bring Antos upstairs. Now.

Leilana wrung her hands, worry creasing her brow. "The guards won't like leaving a prisoner alone with us. They'll want to maintain custody until proper paperwork-"

Make something up, I cut her off. Convince them.

She cast one last glance at her sleeping father, then hurried from the room with reluctant steps. I watched through Mind Sight as she descended the grand staircase and approached the front doors just as heavy knocks echoed through the foyer.

The carriage had stopped directly before the mansion's entrance. One of the armored guards dismounted and walked to the rear of the vehicle, keys jangling from his belt. He unlocked the barred door with practiced efficiency, then pulled it open with a harsh squeal of hinges.

Inside the cramped compartment, a figure huddled against the far wall.

The guard reached in and grabbed the prisoner's arm, hauling him out with unnecessary roughness. The man stumbled and nearly fell, catching himself against the carriage wheel.

"Be more gentle with him!" Leilana's voice carried clearly across the courtyard as she rushed forward.

But my attention had locked completely on the frail figure emerging from his mobile prison. Gone was the spry old man who used to joke about inappropriate things and run Weath with steady hands. This version of Antos looked broken, hollowed out by months of confinement and despair.

His once-sturdy frame had withered to skin and bones. The simple clothes hung loose on his diminished form, fabric that should have fit snugly now draped like burial shrouds. His white hair had grown wild and unkempt, flowing past his shoulders in tangled strands that spoke of neglect. A matching beard covered his jaw, equally long and ragged.

But it was his eyes that hurt the most to see. The sharp intelligence and gentle humor that had always sparkled there had dimmed to hollow resignation. He moved like a man who had given up hope of ever seeing home again.

Leilana grasped his arm with surprising gentleness, supporting his weight as they approached the mansion doors. The prison guards moved to follow, but she turned to block their path.

"That won't be necessary," she said firmly. "The Duke wishes to speak with the prisoner privately."

"Miss, with respect, we can't leave a convicted criminal unguarded-"

"Are you questioning my father's authority?" Leilana's voice rose sharply. "This is official ducal business, and your orders were to deliver the prisoner. Consider your duty fulfilled."

The guards exchanged uncertain glances. The lead man opened his mouth to protest further, but Leilana unleashed the full force of her noble bearing.

"I am telling you to return to your posts immediately!" she shouted, her voice echoing off the mansion walls. "Any further delay will be reported as insubordination! Do I make myself clear?"

The guards stiffened at the threat. After a moment's hesitation, they climbed back onto their carriage and departed into the night, leaving Leilana alone with her fragile charge.

She guided Antos through the mansion's opulent halls with infinite patience, matching her pace to his shuffling steps. Each stair required careful negotiation, the old man gripping the banister with trembling hands while Leilana supported his other arm. Their progress was agonizingly slow, but eventually they reached the Duke's bedroom.

Antos's eyes widened when he saw my robed and hooded figure looming beside the bed. Terror flashed across his weathered features before he squinted harder, studying my face in the dim light.

Recognition dawned like sunrise breaking through storm clouds.

"No Eyes?" His voice cracked with disbelief. "Is that you?"

Yes, I said softly. It's good to see you again, sir.

Antos laughed, but the sound carried exhaustion rather than joy. "Well, you sure took your sweet time getting back."

I'm sorry-

He raised a shaking hand to silence me, his tired eyes holding mine. "Just take me home. Please."

I nodded, then turned toward the sleeping Duke and his trembling daughter. We're leaving now. For your sake, as well as your family's, please stay away from me and Weath. Do we understand each other?

"Yes," Leilana whispered. "I promise."

I hoped she meant it.

Placing my flesh hand on Antos's shoulder, I let my nine tendrils emerge from beneath my robes. They writhed in the air like living shadows, their dragon heads turning to fix glowing eyes on the far wall.

"Those are new," Antos observed with something approaching his old humor.

My tendrils lashed forward, their jaws clamping down on reality itself. With violent precision, they tore a hole through space, revealing the familiar dirt road of Weath's village square on the other side.

Leilana gasped in shock at the impossible sight.

I smiled down at Antos, who stared at the Tunnel with wonder replacing his exhaustion. Time to go home.

Together, we stepped through the portal.