Checkmate

Capture

I looked down dispassionately at the male curled by my feet. 

He was unconscious again, his bruised and bloody body limp, his breathing shallow with a slight wheeze. I jerked my head at the two males standing just outside the cell, watching as they came in and roughly lifted him, unresisting, to his feet, depositing him on the wooden pallet in the far corner of the dimly lit, bare chamber. 

"One mouthful of water when he wakes." I instructed the Dungeon Guard, who nodded, before I glanced one last time at the male as I left the cell and then headed down the dark corridor towards the Guard chamber, hearing the cell door clang behind me and the sound of a key being turned.

In the Guard chamber, I filled the stone basin with cool water, setting the jug down on the table carefully before looking at the mirror in front of me.

The male staring back at me was unsmiling, grim, eyes hooded and dark, face shadowed and flecked with blood, neck scarf standing out in stark contrast to the blood slicked bare chest, arms tight with their veins and sinews clearly defined, hands clenched into fists. 

And then I looked down at the basin and dipped my hands, beginning to rinse the blood from my hands, followed by splashing the cool water onto my chest and then my face, carefully, methodically removing the signs of what I'd spent the last few hours doing. 

When the water in the basin had become a dark crimson, I reached for a drying cloth, wiping it over my torso, arms, face and hands and tossing it into the basket nearby, glancing once more at the mirror to check no more blood remained before picking up my folded robes and heading out into the light. 

"Lio."

I looked up as I shrugged on my robe, to see Jax and Chief Guard Hayn approaching. 

"Well?" Chief Hayn asked grimly.

"Still not talking." I replied briefly, tucking the folds of my robe carefully to hide how loose it was around my thin frame, and then tying my robe securely.

Chief Hayn scowled.

"The others?"

"Oh, they're talking, but it's mostly curses and oaths, nothing useful." Jax answered as I strapped one wristguard on and began to buckle it. 

Chief Hayn's scowl deepened.

"Stubborn bastards."

"Well trained stubborn bastards." Jax added, watching me strap and buckle the second wristguard. "It was always unlikely they'd give anything up."

"Intelligence, then." Chief Hayn said slowly, as I slid my dagger back into its hold. 

Jax shrugged. 

"No-one's admitting that."

"Well, there's one thing they don't need to admit to." Chief Hayn said, voice hard. "Their Clanmarks do it for them. Lichorians."

Lichor.

It was the lead we'd been looking for. After so many months of not having the foggiest idea about what the hell was going on, we'd caught a break and it was a big one. The first real evidence, the first proper lead.

They were Lichorian. 

What we didn't yet know was whether they were sanctioned by their leadership or whether they were Renegades, operating on their own. 

But I doubted we'd get any clear answers about that, not from the Clan - who had been notified and whose delegation was on its way - and certainly not from our captives.

Although the latter's silence actually told me all I needed to know.

Only Intelligence would stay silent in these circumstances.