Ties that Bind

Chapter 1

The man stood, staring out at the horizon in front of him. In one hand, he held a sheet of paper. In the other, a thick silver chain, ornamented with a cluster of small silver rings, dangled from his fingertips. He had remained in that exact same position for over an hour, his only movement was to occasionally run the rings through his grasp like worry stones on a string.

"Milord?" The man on the terrace with him finally, finally summoned the nerve up to interfere with the heavy silence.

"You believe we should hold onto our humanity." The voice was deep, dark, echoing. "Our ties. Our bonds. Our...loved ones."

"They are what hold us back from the precipice of our own monstrosity, Highlord." The other man's answer was wary, but firm. He would not deny it even if it brought him trouble.

"And we forgive those who have lost their way."

Heavier doubt, but Thassarian finally gave his answer. "Many of them, as we sought forgiveness, so should we forgive. May I ask why you've asked me here?

Why, indeed. Darion Mograine, Highlord of the Ebon Blade, studied the chain in his hand, his expression somber. "You are the only one I can trust with this, Thassarian. I must...ask for a favor. And it will not be an easy one."

That brought the other man to his side in a moment, the wariness gone. Thassarian was willing, but could Darion ask it of him? It was insanity. It reeked of failure, a disaster. But he couldn't just turn his back on this. He still had enough of that humanity that Thassarian extolled so persistently to know it had to be done. "Nothing truly important is."

"I want you to kidnap someone."

"Kidnap, milord?" Now, there was doubt in Thassarian's voice, and Darion chuckled. "I think you have the wrong man." Thassarian finally stated, and Darion glanced over his shoulder. No, he was certain he had the right man. He held up the sheet of paper, the dull light washing it red.

"This is a death order, Thassarian. On one of the few living people I still give a damn about. I can't..." Let this one go. He'd invested so much in a superb spy network, expecting it to help his allies, and to underscore the value of his people to an often dubious audience. He hadn't been expecting this.

"You want me to kidnap the person who has put up the order?"

Thassarian was almost bridling with doubt and resentment, his pale brows lowered. "Koltira would be better equipped for that endeavor. I will not help you torture someone, even if..." He waved impotently at the paper. "Kill them outright for you, yes, but..."

"I don't want you to kidnap the person who has issued this." Darion slapped the folded paper into his other palm. "I want you to kidnap the target."

"Save...?" Less disdain, that was much more palatable to the other death knight, and Darion nodded slowly.

"Yes, Thassarian, I want you to save the target. It will be dangerous, because she won't want to be saved, especially by the likes of us. And I need it done in a very particular way. Not a simple snatch and grab, although that by itself wouldn't be simple. She will put up a fight."

"A worthy fight?"

Darion snorted, suspiciously close to laughter, and Thassarian tilted his head to stare back. "A worthy fight, yes. No doubts. But first, I need a replacement for her. Someone to be her doppelganger until this is acted upon. That is obviously a death sentence." That was the part that Darion wasn't certain that Thassarian would go along with. For the plan to work correctly, it must seem to all that she had died. It was the only way she'd know the truth, and it was the only way she'd have the time and freedom to see what played out around her. For that, there must a sacrifice. But without that sacrifice, he would lose his final link to his living past. And, he loved her. Not in the expected way, of a man with a woman, but love nonetheless. "When I was a child, I gave her a gift." He'd been trying so desperately to be more than his years. It had been chosen so carefully, and now he understood his father's indulgence in its purchase. It had been no cheap trinket bought by a boy, the item that had caught Darion's eyes that day was not a small token. Today, he understood its worth, its value. "A necklace, with several silver rings suspended on it. Each ring was different. Different carvings, different stones. It was beautiful."

Thassarian's gaze dropped to Darion's hand, the chain patently visible hanging in the air, painted by the dying sun. "This is only a small part of it." Darion stated, "When I became very ill, she and some others each took one of the rings, had it blessed, said their prayers on it, and put them on this chain. The prayers of paladins for a child that they loved and cared for. And they put it around my neck. It's been with me ever since."

"A true gift to still possess." Thassarian noted. "So you want me to kidnap a paladin, replace her with a doppelganger, and wait for the inevitable to happen?"

"That's exactly what I want."