The Chronicles of Jonathon Postlethwaite: The Seed of Corruption (36 page)

Chapter Twenty Six

                            Rislo shivered in the dimness of a damp, cold cell deep in the heart of the Tallmens’ city. He knew where he was. He was incarcerated in a place reserved for those who had incurred the wrath of  the Elders, a transitory place between life and death beneath the Tallmens’ great central pyramid,  a  dark  temple  hidden  from view  behind  the  blazing lights of the Guardian Towers.

                            He had lain in for hours trembling as he considered his fate and recovering from the shock of his sudden and traumatic capture. Now his red rimmed eyes scanned the darkness in search of the small scuffling sounds disturbed his              sleep              and              the              nightmares              which              plagued this              temporary sanctuary. “So close “he spoke out loud.

So close to escaping this vile world he had come to detest so much and now, now.....

“You should have listened!” spat a voice inside his head. “Loyalty to lower animals!" it scoffed. Rislo shook his head to silence the mocking whispers and the chain which secured his neck collar to the moist, mossy wall rattled like a sarcastic chuckle. “Madness, madness!” Rislo muttered. He was going mad. He had been imprisoned in this dark, cell for at least a day he calculated. Stripped naked and unfed, the cuts and bruises which he had suffered left untreated, he felt his will to resist the Elders' interrogation and avoid execution slipping away. He was slipping into the darkest depression he had ever experienced. He closed his puffy eyes and whimpered.

                            To end it all now seemed like a favourable alternative to the fate which  lay  ahead  of  him.  But the empty  cell  offered  no  means  by  which  he could accomplish a suicidal act, as well as the fact that he had neither the courage nor the opportunity to do so. Every hour or so the inspection hatch on the door would slide noisily open and a laughing eye scrutinize him. "A traitor's fate is not an easy  one."  a  voice  would toll. The words would then rattle inside his skull.

                            He knew only too well what  the  captain  meant and tried to exorcise the images of  a  traitor’s  death from his mind. The visions of a public humiliation. The savage flesh tearing flogging. Then, then the slow and painful death at the hands of the executioner and his grisly garrotte. He began to shiver uncontrollably. Not because of the cold and damp, but because of the vivid memories of greying faces, bulging eyes, huge protruding tongues and then, then that final spine shattering snap.

                            The images haunted him and loitered inside his head, threatening to topple his already tenuous  sanity from its precarious perch. He sighed deeply in despair, he no longer had the strength to weep and slowly this fatigue dragged him back to the nightmare violated refuge of sleep.

                            Suddenly the sharp, metallic clank of the unlocking cell door rescued him from one hell and threw him toward another. Bright light flooded in and a rat, hurtled unseen from the cell. Rislo  covered  his  head  with  his  sore  arms  and moaned. This was it. The time had come. Leapt to his feet and screamed pitifully for mercy.

                            The  guards  grinned and  then  laughed  loudly  as they threw buckets of ice cold water over him. The captain of the guard threw him a coarse towel and a plain grey prisoners robe, his face a stern command.

"Get dried and dressed runt." he ordered as he looked down on his quaking charge. "It seems as if you have been afforded the privilege of a trial, the Elders' seem to want to question you despite your obvious treachery!” he barked disbelievingly and spat in Rislo's face.

                            Why Question him? he mused. Yes! That was it. He had a chance! They couldn't have found the power reservoiur, since he had concealed it well back at the dimension door. He smiled weakly to himself. There was hope yet. They had fgound his machinem, they knew what it was...and also that they were missing the vital power reservoir. They could not kill him without knowing whom, if anyone, had the reservoir. They could not take a chance. He felt some strength returning to him as he was escorted to the Elders. He could perhaps bargain for his life.

                            The   Tallmen   Elders,   beings   of   great    age and wisdom, sat alongside a great wooden table and awaited the arrival of their prisoner. They were concerned. On discovering that Rislo's machine had been plucked from their grasp  and that the only replacement power globe had also disappeared from their  domain,  they   found   themselves shaken from their secure position as masters of the dimension of Dubh.

                            Without the spare power globe they were no longer in a position to vent the City's quickly stagnating atmosphere, no longer able to repair the rifts which occurred in Dubh’s field  walls  and  unable  to ensure the stability of the Great Gate - the City's resource lifeline.

                            These facts alone were enough cause grave concern amongst the Elders, but the retrieval of Rislo's machine was something else. The Tallmen technicians had briefed them on its destructive function and they feared that more than one may exist, that someone else had power over the future of their race. They had faced many problems in their history but now, it seemed, they had reached a crucial point in it.

                            Since    they    had    fled    their    Mother    World, many  centuries   ago,   as   rebels   and   renegades, they had overcome many different and  difficult situations. No  race  or  situation  had  stood  in  their way,  their  advanced  science,  applied   through weapons  technology   or   otherwise,   had   always seen them through. When threats proved to be  too great they had in the past been  able  to,  drawing  on vast energy resources,  shift  from  one  point  and place in time to another to leave the threat behind.

                            Then  their  energy  resource  had  failed  and  they had found themselves stuck with Dubh without the means to go anywhere. They had solved that immediate problem, by employing an inferior and inefficient technology, but now they where stranded  and vulnerable. Now the threat  came  from  within.  The reports of Rislo's machine were bad enough, but when it had been snatched back from  them  they  assumed that there were others in league and for the first time felt fear for themselves.

                            Rislo now became the key to their  survival. His death would only contribute to their destruction. But they knew that he was frightened and unbalanced, reports from the guards confirmed this. It would be a simple job to tip him over the brink of despair and then hold out a helping hand.

Concessions were theirs to give and soon he would be desperate and willing enough to give them what they wanted. As soon Rislo was placed before the Elders his loyalty to Jonathon and the others evaporated completely. He was confident that the return of the power globe would be sufficient to save him from the frightful ritual execution he feared so much. The safety of Jonathon and Milly were now secondary when he considered his own survival.

                            He wanted to live no matter what happened to others. It was an equation he had only briefly considered before, and before his conscience had called out to him to spare it the pain of guilt, but now it cried out for its

own preservation. He  would  lead  the  Tallmen  to  the power  reservoir,  he  decided,  and  then  risk  entering the  unstable  door  to  escape  them.  It  might  not lead  to  the  same  world  as  it  had  done  before when  he  and  Jonathon  and  the  beast  had  gone through  it,  yet  he  would  at  least  be  able  to escape  his  jailers  and  any  place  was  preferable  to

the public  execution  chamber  in  the  Great  Pyramid.                             But he was still wise enough to realise that once the Tallmen had their hands  on  the  power reservoir that they might suddenly forget any deal they struck with a traitor.

                            Eventually  Rislo  was  seated  in  a  large  wooden chair facing across the table where the Elders sat in their blood red robes, studying him without expression. The huge iron doors to this chamber closed with a dull boom behind him and Tallmen warriors took up positions in front of them.

                            For a few moments the Elders gazed silently at the wretched brother who held the destiny of their race in his head. Each Elder, a mass of grey-white hair and exotically plaited beards, stared unblinking at him.

Their intentions to pressurize him with silence had little effect, for Rislo schemed furiously as he waited for them to speak and had little time to be intimidated.

                            He   knew    the   power    globe    was   of    great importance to them since he  now  realised  its significance to the city. They had his machine, he wrongly assumed, and that it was now worthless to him. But he had the globe. That was why he wasn't tied to the garrotte pole at this moment.

                            He smiled smugly and glanced from one wizened  old face to another. Eventually, when the Elders    realised that Rislo was not about to beg for           mercy, the Elders' spokesman rose to his feet and spoke.  He introduced his colleges in a formal manner, as        in the tradition of the Tallmen in court, and awaited Rislo's anticipated response. He waited a while frowning and then, when it was obvious no response was forthcoming, he sighed in irritation and continued.

"We the Elder Council of the Tallman City of Dubh, having considered your case of treason and theft in your absence, find you guilty of the said charges." The Elder looked solemnly to his companions and they all nodded in agreement. He turned back to Rislo.

"We therefore sentence you to death." he said without emotion.

                            Rislo was shocked. He could not believe what he was hearing. They had not even tried to bargain. He could not believe it. He opened his mouth to speak, but was struck dumb and could only manage a groan. The Elder continued. “Therefore you shall be taken to the Great Hall to receive the Humiliation and subsequently executed in the time honoured manner for traitors. Rislo staggered to his feet, only to be restrained by two guards. The Elder smiled at him triumphantly. Rislo stood   opened   mouthed   and   wide   eyed   in   stunned amazement.  He  had  thought  they  would  be  willing  to bargain.

                            Thoughts raced through his mind. Had they found the power reservoir? No-one could have found it, only he knew of its location. Then why, why! It made no sense unless, unless. The thought of his miscalculation horrified him. Rislo's legs gave way and the guards began to drag him towards the black doors. He could already feel the garrotte biting into his neck, cutting off his air supply, tearing into his skin. He began to gasp for oxygen.

                            As they reached the door the guards were commanded to halt.

"One moment. Return him to the seat." Rislo was seated again and he felt the damp, warmth of the urine stained robe beneath him as he collapsed into the chair. The Elder's statement was brief.

"You know what we want. Co-operate and we can come to some agreement." he smiled at Rislo. "Your acts of treason are of no consequence - give us back what belongs to us and you can go free." he finished bluntly, but without conviction and sat slowly down in his chair. "A simple bargain." he looked at the other Elders and they nodded in agreement.              "Give              us              the power reservoir              and              the              whereabouts of your fellow conspirators and the machine, and you are free to go wherever you wish." he smiled

briefly, and then his face turned into serious and stony glare, enough to reinforce his threat of non-cooperation.

                            Now Rislo knew what it was like to be led to his death, the Tallmen Elders had ensured that he would not take that trip again.

"A day of thought for you brother Rislo. Do  not make things hard for yourself. Your choice is quite simple. Live or die." he finished sternly and indicated that the guards take him back to his cell.

                            In his now warm cell, with a full stomach and dressed in a soft dry robe, Rislo was given time to consider the Elders' simple proposal. Without the interruptions he had experienced previously he relaxed but did not sleep. The Elders' death sentence resounded inside his skull. He had really thought he was going to die. He wheezed heavily. They had made him understand, given him and experience on the trip to the door he could not forget, and  then  brought  him back from the brink of the darkest terror.

                            Rislo had been broken by the Elders psychological torture. If they did not get their way he believed they would kill him despite the consequences of that act. In the few seconds that the guards had taken to drag him to those doors which where emblazoned with terror, pain and a lingering death, he had become completely and utterly self-interested.

                            He had already betrayed Jonathon, now he no longer cared for anyone in any way at all. Jonathon and Milly could die for all he cared, he was now only interested in avoiding death  at  any  cost  and  here  his conscience howled in agreement.  Finer feelings such as loyalty and love could be of  no  use  to  him.  He was no martyr he decided.