Guardians of the Prophecy

Chapter Fifteen: Doubt

Note:  We have crossed the halfway point (not counting the epilogue)!  Yay!  Unfortunately, school starts this coming Monday, so it is most likely going to take a while for the next chapter to come out.  I am trying to make it my goal to finish this story before next year though.  Hope everyone has a good school year, and I would really appreciate votes and comments to let me know whether you enjoyed reading it.  Hope you did!

“Tell us where the Guardians are!  We know you have the information!”

Alistair grunted and arched his back as the whip whistled through the air and slashed through his skin, blazing a trail of pain in its wake.  Sweat trickled down his body and his eyes were becoming watery.  He slumped in the chains for a moment, panting heavily.

“I don’t know,” he said, gritting his teeth.  “But if I knew, I wouldn’t have told you anyway.”

“Liar!” 

And the whip cracked against his back once more.  Fire seemed to sear along the length of his spine.  Alistair raised his head with a groan to see glowing eyes glinting in the darkness—

Alistair shot up from the bed with a yell, his heart racing desperately.  He sucked in as much air as he could and ran a hand through his hair, his chest heaving.

The horrifying memories of his torture began to gradually fade into the semidarkness.  For a moment, remembering the pain, the feeling of hopelessness and the satisfied, twisted smirks of the demons made him tremble and tightly grip his hair.

Damn it! 

“What the hell is wrong with you?  Yelling like that when everyone’s sleeping?”

Alistair glanced down to see the courtesan blearily open her eyes.

His temper flared.

“Get out,” he snarled at her.

She pouted at him and trailed a hand down his chest.  “But it’s the middle of the night.”  Her hand drifted lower, between his legs.  “Do you want to have another go to make you feel better?”

Alistair firmly pushed her hand away.  “The brothel isn’t far from here.  Now, get out.  You’ve stayed longer than necessary.” 

The courtesan gathered up her robes and seemed to glide over to the door.  She stopped with her hand on the doorknob and sniffed at him, “No wonder you needed me.  You’ve got a terrible temper… what woman would want to stay with you?”

She slammed the door behind her.

He scoffed.  She doesn’t know me.  I don’t need Rima.    

Alistair looked down and saw that his hands were shaking.  He clenched his fists and grit his teeth.

Well, there’s no way in hell I’ll be able to sleep now, he thought bitterly, shoving the blankets off of him.  Again.

He sighed and wearily closed his eyes.  When am I ever going to sleep properly?  Got to see if I can talk to Laurel about making some sleeping potion or something.

He might as well make his way back to camp.  The others might have started to wonder where he was.    

  

“Alistair!  Where’ve you been?  We’ve been looking for you for hours!”  Caleb practically shouted, stomping over to him. 

Alistair glanced over at him, somewhat taken aback by his reaction.  His gaze wandered over to Rima’s face: the lines of worry were evident.  Shan laid a hand on Rima's shoulder.