Slip of the Tongue

Jarmir, advisor to Dremeadow's king, is livid. One of his prisoners dared to outright lie to his interrogator, and by extension him, about very important information. That prisoner must pay dearly.

                The shadowed room  was small, only four paces wide and five long, and devoid of furniture but for a desk of iron and yew wood and a matching chair.  A bone-thin elf with alabaster-white skin leaned casually against the wall of stone, drumming his long fingers upon the desk. These light taps echoed in the silence. Jarmir Esteel stared pensively toward the top of the opposite wall. The wait was endless.

 

Presently, his keen ears detected first badly stifled whimpers of pain, then the muffled thuds on footfalls on stone. Jarmir sniffed with disdain at the snivels. Not sounding so courageous now, are you, Your Highness? Of course, he'd need to make sure those guards were not excessively manhandling him as they had two days ago. He'd told  them not to cause the prisoners any unnecessary harm. Yet one of the orcs had to go and rip the prince's arm out of its socket. It would not do to have either of  the youths dying on him. Not before a time he himself decided, anyhow. That time was not yet ripe. Jarmir still needed them both alive.

 He needed the prince for his being an obvious source of information. Besides, as Jarmir had pointed out to King Hrothgar, he was primarily responsible for stirring up trouble in Dremeadow. The lad just had  to go publicly insisting the emissary from Cancalia was innocent. That nosy, interfering paladin Mani might be out of his way, but the fact remained the prince had caused a lot of trouble. If it weren't for him, others would not have questioned the king's judgment. If it weren't for him, the kingdom would not have fallen into the very disarray Jarmir feared. And he dared lie to the agents of one of the king's chief advisers! That friend of his was far less valuable.  Regardless, that friend was leverage.

At least they could do no further damage. Before some of King Hrothgar's people apprehended the two young halflings, the prince was trying to help Mani cause Cancalia to interfere. They'd gotten that much out of him, though he would not specify who was helping him and the fugitive halflings. Jarmir had some suspicions though because of a telling threat the lad made. "If you're violating I.C.T.A. terms, they'll stop you." Only a highly ranked noble or member of the royal family could affect the Intracontinental Trade Alliance.  If Cancalia got directly involved, Jarmir had no doubt its allies would follow suit, if not all the fools in the Intracontinental Trade Alliance. Much as he detested self-righteous buffoons like Cancalia's Benoits, he had to grudgingly admit they were a powerful group. Many lands around the continent were in Cancalia's pocket. Really, the Benoits could rule the entire continent if they weren't too cowardly to take over weaker lands.

He'd make the undersized fool rue his falsehoods a hundred times over, but he hadn't decided how yet. Jarmir hated liars. Those dishonorable fools deserved to be disciplined in a way that would teach them once and for all to never lie again. Those whose word could not be trusted were not worthy of being royalty, no matter who their parents were.

 

A knock sounded. He would have to ponder  what to do about the youngest Foxtrot and his friend  later. "Enter."

 

The door swung open, revealing a beefy orc with massive arms greatly contrasting twig-like legs. The sentry clasped the arm of a trembling halfling by the part where his upper arm ended and right shoulder began. The adolescent dangled several inches off the ground at an angle only possible because of a badly dislocated shoulder.

 

Jarmir stared dispassionately at the pair, completely unconcerned. He would not scold the guard for restraining the prisoner. He could not run- Jarmir himself had seen to that with the spell he’d used on the fellow the first day of his stay- but there was plenty he could do to cause trouble even with just two working limbs. The elf had forbidden physical measures against the Foxtrot in interrogation sessions, that was true. He had the honor to not torture royalty unless necessary. It was not in this case. The other lad, the farmer’s child, sufficed for that. Watching a friend suffer usually proved  more effective at breaking a captive’s will than harming the captive himself. Not always. When the prince pleaded for his inquisitor to stop and said he’d give the solicited information, he’d had enough presence of mind to lie. The halflings were a challenge, but nobody’s willpower and patience exceeded Jarmir's. He could wait. He could take the time to contemplate the perfect way to make the truth reveal itself. Besides,  it could be argued the halflings were  at fault for their own suffering. Things would have ended quickly if they’d cooperated. Jarmir was no liar.

 

The orc hoisted the halfling even higher off the stone floor before slamming him facedown at Jarmir’s feet so hard the impact echoed throughout the chamber.  The halfling emitted a strained yelp.The advisor froze, irritated. He'd be a fool to ignore that. It was feasible for an orc to kill a halfling doing that! It would not do for the youngest Foxtrot to die before reaping all the consequences of his defiance in life. Fortunately, the cry of agony on impact and subsequent twitching made it clear he’d survived this one.

 

Stepping over the prone detainee to rebuke his servant, Jarmir hissed, “What have I told you, Ochtuurg, you insipid creature?” He’d already warned his guards about being overly rough with the small creatures after learning about what had happened with Folco’s shoulder. “Were you not listening when I spoke with you all after the other day about harming prisoners without my EXPLICIT  permission? Do you need another reminder?” The elf seemed to enlarge in his fury.

 

The orc bowed his head. He had the grace to growl, “yes, Master Esteel.” Jarmir raised a black eyebrow. “I fergot, sorry, but ‘ere’s da vermin...” He swept a scarred and disfigured hand over the small figure.

 

The elf sniffed haughtily. “Get out of my sight, Ochtuurg.”

 

Once the door clicked shut, his attention returned to the prostrate adolescent. His eyes glinted with malice as he stared down at the wretched halfling. Jarmir Esteel knew better than to trust the prisoner at his feet would be docile. Undoubtedly the Foxtrot was planning more tricks. Unfortunately for the halfling, he had tricks of his own. Tricks that would undermine any ideas the miserable boy might have. Folco Foxtrot might be royalty, albeit a pathetic excuse for royalty, but the pittance he had for power was nothing to Jarmir's. He couldn't even do magic!

The elf smirked at the ragged panting coming from the youth.  Judging by how it appeared to take all his effort just to breathe, the halfling was beginning to realize just how feeble and pathetic he truly was. Soon, he might realize Jarmir and his cohort were doing Drémeadow a tremendous favor. Within a few years, he'd be doing the entire continent a favor. He, Jarmir Esteel, would use his magical abilities and natural persuasiveness for the greater good. He'd eradicate chaos, crime and menaces to respectable society once and for all. All who got in the way of his goal to improve the world would be swiftly dealt with. There might be bloodshed along the way, but the world would be a better place in the end for it. He might taint himself, but it was a worthwhile sacrifice for a worthwhile cause.  

He could not get lost in his dream of a better future. Right now, he needed to contend with Folco Foxtrot, the prince unworthy of the title on the ground where he belonged, in front of him.

 

For a minute or two, the elf watched the halfling struggle to rise. He could not hoist himself  higher than two inches on his good arm, let alone sit up.. Pathetic. Jarmir slipped one foot underneath Foxtrot's stomach. In one deft motion, he  flipped the teenager onto his back. “You lied to me.” His voice was even, but his green eyes had an ominous glint that did not bode well for the prisoner.

 

“Did I?” responded the adolescent in mock-innocence. He heaved himself onto his good arm in an awkward half-sitting position.  “Anyhow,” continued the cheeky ignoramus, “I was under the impression that was a human I was talking to, not an elf and certainly not you. Last I checked, it was fellow had round ears and light hair, not pointy ears and black hair Or does your magic include changing appearance?”

 

“Do not trifle with me, insolent little fool,” Jarmir hissed venomously. “You know exactly what I mean.” To his annoyance, the lad rolled his eyes before averting them completely. He stooped, seizing Folco's hair and wrenching his head back to force the halfling's eyes to meet his own. “You wasted my time with that false information you gave my interrogator. You wasted the time of my servants. Time that could have been spent on much more important things. You said the paladin scum and the traitor trash he took with him were in the Waste of Dre, did you not?

 

The hobbit smiled darkly. “Not in those exact words, but yes, I did say the paladin was in the Waste of Dre."

The king's adviser leered back. “So you admit to perjuring yourself!” he exclaimed.

 

“Not at all,” contradicted the youth. “I told you, I said he was in the Waste of Dre.” Jarmir’s thin black eyebrows contracted. The beginnings of anger stirred within him. It was impossible for a paladin like Kiran Mani to evade his servants' spells. Those spells were specifically intended to detect the auras of paladins. He'd even sent Jade to scout the area in case the spells of his hirelings failed. Jade was familiar with the odor of humans and halfling. The dragon’s potent olfactory senses could detect just one from miles away. She hadn't found any human or halfling but his own servants.

 

The prisoner continued, “WAS. He actually did pass through there at one point, so yes he was there.”

 

Jarmir’s eyes went wide. Did the mendacious little dimwit have a death wish? It would be granted. Unfortunately for him, Jarmir planned on his death being later rather than sooner. “Why you miserable little… So you thought you could get away with bandying semantics?!”

 

“Hmm?” the treacherous halfling said casually. “Were you going to finish that first sentence?”  The cleric’s blood boiled. He took a deep breath. The poltroon had simply figured out he was a cornered beast.  That was the only reason for his bravado. He was obviously afraid. His eyes and the quaver in his voice betrayed him.

 

He leaned close enough for his hot breath to hit the prisoner’s face. Tightening his grip on the golden-brown curls, Jarmir murmured, “you will stop your insolence, or you will be very sorry indeed.”

The halfling raised an eyebrow. “Indeed?” he replied impertinently. “Remind me, which of us is the prince and which is the royal family’s servant?” He delicately stressed the last word.

 

The elf’s blood reached boiling point. “How dare you!” he spluttered, teeth gnashing.  Calm down, don’t be weak, he reminded himself. You did not endure years and years of grueling training and hardship for nothing. You have powers the rest of the world could scarcely imagine in their dizziest daydreams. You can bend and break anyone. This is a worthless child playing at being royalty.

 

“What?” the adolescent said in a petulant voice. “It’s a simple fact. While we’re on the subject of my family, does my father know I’m here then?”

 

Jarmir's eyes narrowed into slits. His cheeks felt ablaze with fury. “I ask the questions here, not you,” hissed the elf. He drew in a long breath. It was essential he retain control of his temper.  Perhaps planning what would befall those who dared defy him once he was ready to unleash his full power would assuage his boiling blood. He could do that once he was through with this filth.

 

“Should I take this as he doesn’t know or doesn’t care? Interesting. But I thought we were talking about whether I lied ab-“

 

Jarmir had had just about enough impertinence from the young prince. “Aaargh, that halfling should have put poison in your cup!” he raged. His stomach dropped. His wrath reached a crescendo as he realized what he'd just allowed himself to be goaded into saying. His eyes flashed almost yellow. Jarmir, you thrice bedamned fool!  he rebuked himself furiously. That's a nineteen-year-old! Not even a full adult by his people's standards until next year! He's an overgrown child!

 

The youngest Foxtrot’s face, though still very pale, was suddenly triumphant. “So you DO know who’s behind my mother’s death!” he exclaimed. “Well, since you've me hidden so well, it can't hurt to tell…”

 

Jarmir cut the rest of the sentence short, relinquishing his grip on the hair and backhanding the halfling across the left side of his face in one motion. The force knocked the halfling sideways. He landed sprawled on his right side with a strangled cry of pain. The smell of blood began to fill the room as it issued from his mouth where he'd bitten into his cheek. Folco spluttered and spat, two molars falling to the ground. There were also fresh rips with the beginnings of stains around the edges in both elbows and along his right sleeve. Jarmir folded his arms, sneering. A weaker-willed person might take pity on  the grubby, bloodied little halfling. Jarmir, however, knew better than to grant mercy to one who'd let the world remain sullied by the unworthy. There was to be no clemency for the likes of him.

 

 The hobbit spat out another large mouthful of blood. The elf watched, unfazed.  The small ashen face turned to him.“What’d you always say to me?” Folco choked weakly. “Right… 'you really ought to work on that temper of yours.' You should practice what you preach”

 

The captor’s lips twisted into a snarl. In a quiet foreboding voice, he said, “you will regret this conversation, Folco Foxtrot! Mark my words, you will come to lament the very day you were born.” He meant every word wholeheartedly. There would be no leniency for such flagrant disrespect. Not even from a self-important coward of a prince.

 

The fallen halfling gave a pained smirk. “Will I?”

 

Jarmir drew in a long breath. Turning his back on the halfling, he bellowed “OCHTUURG!”  His orc guard entered the room. “Take this away!” He delivered a swift kick to the halfling’s side. The orc gave a quizzical look. Jarmir sighed inwardly. I need to find more intelligent servants.

“Bring him back to his cell, then bid Fleance come see me.” The interrogator’s presence was necessary. Together, they might concoct an idea that might work as others had not.  Jarmir turned his livid green eyes back to the crumpled hobbit on the ground. Folco stirred feebly, left hand weakly clutching where Jarmir’s boot had caught him in the ribs.

The orc looked as though he were going to lift the prince by his bad arm again, but the elf held up a hand to stop him. “Carry him properly. He’s not permitted to die yet.” The orc scooped up the halfling, cradling him in his arms as easily as though he were a bundle of rags. “That’s better. Make sure you do not drop him when you put in his cell. I want him conscious when Fleance is ready for him!” He detected movement within Ochtuurg’s arms at the mention of the name and flicked a disparaging glance at the prisoner. “Oh, yes, Your Highness, I would not advise you to think he is anywhere near through with you or your servant, or friend, or whatever you want to call that other one. Indeed, Fleance has barely begun." The adolescent muttered incoherently. "You must learn, Your Highness, that you cannot be soft when trying to maintain order in a kingdom. A king cannot have any mercy on those who will not obey his law. Not even when they are his own family. ” At that, the orc bore the halfling out of the room.

 

            The elf sank into a chair, lacing his fingers together, eyes shut for a prolonged moment. He had made a mistake and dropped a hint to the lad he’d never meant to reveal, that was true. However, he reminded himself, it mattered not. It was not as though it mattered that he knew anymore. Who would he tell, a louse? Or one of the rats? He had no power here, no strength. He could not do harm with the newly acquired information. Why, he was losing the ability to even form a coherent insult! The youngest Foxtrot’s will was breaking down, that was clear, and once Fleance was through with him, it would be shattered. He'd yield the information needed to save Drémeadow from the vile doings of the paladin.

 

Author's Note

I have taken a very experimental road with this chapter in deciding to assume the point-of-view of the antagonist rather than Kiran or one of the lesser protagonists. Please let me know what you think and how I can improve on this. I want to get good enough at writing from the point of view of the "villain" that the reader is nearly convinced that what he is doing is actually the right thing to do and that his logic is sound. After all, it is a fact of life that even the bad guys think of themselves as the good guys- the villain thinks himself good and the heroes who dare oppose him evil. Jarmir Esteel is certain he is doing the right thing and convinced he is making the world a better place.

Second thing, I am also debating just how dark to go- I'm hesitant to have a chapter that would likely merit an M writing. Where do you think the line is drawn between T and M when it comes to violence?

Also, please alert me if this and earlier chapters accidentally repeat anywhere (hopefully I can transfer all before work!) or if it seems a chapter is missing. I'm finding myself adding chapters in the middle, and there's no easy way to reorder chapters on here.

Reviews

[Jennie Baron]

You took a very wise turn with this chapter. The POV is a very nifty device to reveal a lot that you couldn't otherwise--especially when it's done as well as it is here. As for violence, maybe I'd draw that line if there was any more graphic violence than there already is, but that's my taste.

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

I'm glad speaking from the point-of-view of one of our protagonist group's enemies was helpful to the story at large! I'm debating adding a little blurb about stuff happening in Dremeadow, but it would be a bit of a digression- so savng that for a later chapter!

[Mila]

Loved the dialogue in this one. I felt as though I was in on their conversations. Well done!!

[NoelHC]

In answer to your question as to how dark you should go, I reflect on LotR, and how dark and fearsome it got in that series, without getting into a M rating. So far everything here I have read is safe for all.
I guess part of the answer is in what you are thinking of for "dark"ness.

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

aye aye Captain! Thanks for dropping by! As a kid who saw the Exorcist and other R-rated moviesin first grade and who WASN'T traumatized, I tend to think more sex scenes bumping things to M (I ran out of room during such scenes, though in my 7-year-old mind it was "EWWWWWW they're kissing a lot!"

[jjwilbourne]

I like where you went with this.
I love how Falco stuck it to Jarmir. I think you did a pretty good job of portraying Jarmir as realistic and self-rationalized. I think it was a great idea to show his POV. I love getting the antagonist POVs because it really shakes up the voice of the narrative.
Since George R. R. Martin has popularized the new grim-dark movement in fantasy, I think people (adults at least) expect some grit. I'm not sure what age group you're targetting here, but I don't think you went too far.
btw, you can reorder chapters by going to my writing > manage writing. Then click on the green arrange button of the book. It'll take you to a new page where you can drag the chapters around.
Notes here: https://diigo.com/075gq9
Excellent work with this passage. Stoked on the next part!

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

Aiming for teens to twenty-somethings, mainly new adults. Hoping to make it sort of new adult fantasy given chars (human and hobbit) fall into 18-30 dream. Democracy's End I intend to be more light hearted, junior high kids as target age (hence Folco as main character being 13-14)

[Valkyrie Warrior]

Wow what I brilliant chapter I will certainly read this book!

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

Wow. thank you so much for the kind review!

[♔ CrownedDevil &#..]

Wow, this was amazing to read. Love it, nicely penned.

Kaze~

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

Aw, thanks for the kind review! [=

[♔ CrownedDevil ☾]

Your very welcome, it was my pleasure. :-)

[Craig2591]

I think you did very well showing the antagonist's point of view. Jarmir's rationalizations for his evil acts reminds me of the scene where Saruman tries to convince Gandolf to join forces with him. I think that this is one of your stronger chapters.

You're right. Hitler, Stalin and even Osama bin Laden thought that they were the good guys.

I also like your writing style and the characters manner of speaking. It makes the story convincing.

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

Thanks so much. Yeah, this was definitely a tougher chapter to write, given I was trying to write in such a way where everything he's doing just in here seems well-justified, even though we know they're very screwy acts! It was also tough reducing one of the protagonists to almost nothing more than a pesky insect.

Ahh Yesssss, Bin Laden thought he was doing the work of his god with 9/11 (which I'll never forget- I know so many directly affected...) and his other psychotic acts. Hitler had the blatant social Darwinist attitude... then in reference to your story, Slobodan Milosevic thought he was ridding the former Yugoslavia of "pollutants".. crazy people

[Utkarsh Singh]

this chapter was beautifully written ,...........well done......

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

Aww, thanks so much for stopping by and reviewing! [=

[Kamari's]

Great job felt like I was there

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

How did I not already reply to this? Thanks for the review!

[C. Rose]

Congratulations on being in the top ten of the first "Promote Me!" contest.
This is more of a standard disclaimer. YAY. So I'm skipping the review line - because you already have a review from me. Logic.
Voting closes in a week.
I invite you to join the group "Promote Me!" - which you already did ... . Your piece will be accepted into the library along with the other finalists, and should you win it will be featured.