The TwiceBorn

The Heart Of A Coward

"Sometimes you make choices and sometimes choices make you."--Forman

Darius Buron blinked rapidly and one pale hand rose of its own accord and rested against his lips as though the mere mention of that much gold might cause him to retch.  The high color drained out of his face like water from a leaky bucket and Alora wondered if he was going to faint.  She was so fascinated by this display that she almost didn’t feel the insistent tugging at her arm.  She reluctantly tore her eyes away from Darius and gazed at Islinn’s anxious face.

“Don’t you think you asked for too much?”  Islinn whispered as she watched Darius struggle for air.

“Oh, no.”  Alora whispered back.  “If he doesn’t answer me, I’m going to tack on another fifty.”

                                 ******************************

Darius tried to take a deep breath but his chest had constricted as though a band had been wrapped about it and pulled tight.  He wasn’t aware that his legs had begun to shake because he felt numb from the neck down.

One hundred and fifty gold pieces.

And just as surely as he knew he’d pay it, he also knew the bitch had asked for that much because she knew he had it.  Fine.  He’d pay it and truth be known he’d pay whatever she asked just as long as she helped Alain.  As always, the thought of his brother brought a lump to his throat. 

Alain had left him.  Left him among a congregation of strangers who didn’t know what had been done, what had been bargained for and what had been paid in full. And how at times, like now, he wanted to follow his brother’s ghost and leave all of it behind. 

Leave behind the way his eyes turned inward and lingered upon dreams of insanity, dreams filled with the goodbye to all his days to come and yet…

And yet…

There was still a chance, a small one, that everything could be saved, that Alain could lie on hallowed ground and what had been written could be re-written and the grasping possessive fingers of the UnderRealms  would gently let him and his brother go. 

The thick shadows that waited in the corner of his bed chamber every night would be gone.  The oily chuckle he heard every now and then when he laid his head on his pillow would be gone as well and the night would, once again, be filled with the comforting sound of crickets and thunder far off in the distance.

He and Alain would no longer hold court with shadows.

He swallowed and his throat gave a dry click with the effort.  He forced a smile onto his face and his thunderous gaze moved over Islinn, who smiled timidly in reply.

“I see you care nothing for our plight, you simply want to bleed our coffers dry,” He croaked.  “One hundred and fifty gold pieces.  I’ll take you to my brother.”

                       ****************************************

“No.”  Alora shook her head for added emphasis. “Now you’ll tell me why the Hynti are here.”

He’d agreed to the one hundred and fifty gold pieces rather quickly in spite of the sickly show that had overtaken him momentarily.  

Of course he had agreed.

 And that told Alora more than she wanted to know.  She could have asked for twice that amount and the reply would have been the same.  She was trapped in the middle of a mystery not of her own making and she had the feeling she was in over her head.  And this was a darkness she would face alone.