Paragon of Destruction

Chapter 348 A Lord's Mercy

To Arran's surprise, neither he nor the captain suffered any serious abuse from the two Rangers as they traveled. While the Rangers occasionally insulted them, that was the extent of it.

Arran was glad not to suffer any beatings — in no small part because he feared he might kill the Rangers in anger — but he had little doubt about the reason for their restraint.

The Rangers looked at them with dismissive contempt, as if they'd already been defeated and the only thing that remained was for them to realize it. Whatever they expected to happen once they reached their destination, they clearly believed that Arran and the captain were already as good as dead.

The overseer didn't seem to think much of their chances, either. While the tall man showed no hostility, the pity in his eyes was every bit as worrying as the Rangers' contempt. From his somber expression, Arran could almost think the man already believed them dead.

And yet, Captain Kaleesh showed not even the smallest sign of concern. If anything, he looked to be in better spirits than before.

Once, Arran even heard him whistle softly as they walked, and when he glanced over in wonder, the man's lips held the hint of a smile.

Their journey was as quick as it was peaceful. The two Rangers maintained a pace that left the overseer and the soldiers struggling to keep up, and whenever they stopped to eat, they were moving again only minutes later.

After less than a week, Arran saw a large city appear in the distance.

It was the same city they had passed on their way to the mines, but this time, they were headed straight for it. Apparently, this was where they would face Lord Kadun's mercy.

Despite his concerns, Arran could not help but be eager at the prospect of seeing a proper Darian city. His main task in entering the Imperium had been to study it, but despite having arrived months earlier, he'd still only caught glimpses of the true Imperium.

But now, that would finally change.

As they neared the city, Arran's eyes slowly widened in shock. He'd only seen the city walls from a distance, but now, he realized that they were far higher than he had realized.

The walls towered at least eighty feet in the air, and they were made from a dense gray stone that looked to be utterly impenetrable. Although Arran could Sense no magic in the walls' construction, he knew instinctively that these were barriers to stop men and magic both.

"Darian cities are unrivaled fortresses," the captain's voice sounded. "With the gates closed and Lord Kadun's troops inside, no army can pass these walls. Even another Lord's army would break if they tried. And the city has supplies to weather a siege for years, if not decades."

"You know a lot about our lands," the overseer said, his breath heavy from the fast pace. "And still you decided to…" He sighed. "Never mind. You made your choice."

The overseer spoke no more, and as they approached the gates, Arran soon found his attention drawn away from the petition ahead.

The gates were wide and massive, several feet thick and shod with layer after layer of steel. While the walls were thicker still — twenty feet, if not more — he could not imagine anyone breaking through either.

There were numerous guards, too, inspecting the people who passed the gate and taking some aside to question them. The Rangers, however, were spared that small indignity. When the guards saw them, they merely offered respectful nods before quickly getting out of the way.

Arran barely noticed this, however, as his attention was still drawn to the city's massive defenses. There was no doubt in his mind that the captain was right — no army could breach these walls.

And yet, even as he looked in awe at the bulwark, a question arose in his mind.

This deep into the Imperium, what need was there for such exaggerated barriers? These were clearly defenses built for full-scale warfare, meant to withstand entire armies. And while he already understood that the Imperium was not without conflict, the effort seemed disproportionate.

They soon left the walls behind them, however, and as they ventured onto the city's crowded streets, Arran's attention shifted to the people he saw.

Many of them carried weapons, moving about the streets with the air of soldiers even if they lacked the armor and uniform. This was true even for the youths — there were some who carried the weapons and demeanor of trained warriors, despite not being old enough to grow a full beard.

But there were many more people who were unarmed. And although there were some exceptions, most of these hurried through the streets with downcast looks, appearing almost as if they were afraid of offending anyone with their mere presence.

"The armed ones are the true Darians," the captain explained. "The others are outsiders, like us. Or their descendants."

Arran nodded in understanding, though he could not help but be taken aback by the fearful looks on the outsiders' faces. He suspected that most of them had long earned their citizenship, and yet, they walked the streets of their own city with the timid looks of mistreated servants.

He considered asking the captain why the outsiders did not rise up against the Darians, but quickly thought better of it. Not only would speaking those words be dangerous, he also knew the answer already — against the armed and trained Darians, the outsiders would have no chance of victory.

They continued on for a good half hour, the Rangers not slowing their pace even the slightest bit as they navigated the city's busy streets.

And there was no need for them to slow — before the Rangers, the crowds parted easily, with even the armed Darians stepping aside without hesitation.

Finally, they reached a large keep at the center of the city — a massive dark building that stood in the midst of the city like an immovable monolith. Easily over a hundred feet tall, its features were brusque and brutish, and it resembled nothing so much as it did a giant rock.

Yet despite its size and thick walls, Arran could see that its defense was lacking. While the area around it was clear of buildings, it held too many doorways and windows to stop all but the smallest attacks.

But then, there was no need for the keep to withstand attackers. Not with the city's defenses strong enough to break even the mightiest army.

Inside the large building, they found a multitude of large hallways, each dense with guards and soldiers.

The two Rangers were clearly familiar with the building, as they guided their small group through the hallways with practiced ease, occasionally nodding at Rangers and soldiers they passed.

After several minutes, they came to a halt in a particularly wide hallway, at the end of which stood a set of large wooden doors. And next to the doors was a stone desk, behind which sat a cold-faced woman.

The lead Ranger approached the woman and gave her a respectful nod. "We have two outsiders who seek the Lord's justice."

The woman glanced at Arran and the captain before turning back to the Ranger. "They have someone to speak for them?" When she saw the Ranger nod, she continued, "You can go inside."

The Ranger turned around and shot the captain a cruel smile. Then, with a glance at the overseer, he said, "Come along."

Arran had expected that they'd be guided through the doors, but instead, only the lead Ranger and the overseer went ahead, opening the wooden doors just far enough for them to pass, then closing them behind.

The captain and Arran remained behind, with the other Ranger and the dozen soldiers keeping a close eye on them.

"This won't take long," the captain said, his tone almost sounding bored.

Indeed, barely three minutes later the doors opened once more, revealing the lead Ranger. "Take them inside," he said, a dark smile on his face.

When they were led through the doors, Arran saw that they had entered a large, empty chamber, with high stone walls. The chamber was mostly bare, but at its center stood a single wooden chair, clad in red velvet — large enough that it could almost be called a throne.

Arran had expected to see Lord Kadun, but he was surprised to see someone else upon the throne — an old man, with long gray hair and a wrinkled face, dressed in a black silk robe.

"Master Steward," the second Ranger said as they approached, giving the old man a respectful bow.

The steward acknowledged the Ranger with a small nod, then turned his attention to the captain.

"I have heard of your petition," he said, his deep voice carrying a slight crackle. "And I have heard of your transgressions."

He paused briefly, his small, dark eyes flitting between the captain and Arran. Then, he continued, "For their indolence and insolence, the outsiders in your group are sentenced to a lifetime of labor in the mines, and two decades of labor for any offspring they might have. The both of you, as their leaders, are sentenced to death."

At once, Arran's eyes went wide with shock. He'd expected that they would at least get to plead their case — that the captain would get the chance to make some compelling argument. But instead, without them having spoken even a single word, they'd been sentenced to death.

"We don't get to defend ourselves?!" he blurted out, already knowing that the words would do little good even as he said them.

The black-clad steward gave him a flat stare. "What value has the word of outsiders?" Slowly, he turned his head, facing the overseer, who stood at the side of the chamber. "Another has spoken for you. He will be suitably punished for his lies."

Arran briefly struggled for words, but gave up a moment later. He now saw what Lord Kadun's mercy entailed, and finally, he understood that there was no justice involved.

The steward gave them a final contemptuous glance, then turned to the lead Ranger. "Take them away!"

The Ranger nodded in response, a small but pleased smile on his face. Clearly, this was exactly the outcome he'd expected.

Yet as the Rangers guided them out of the chamber, Arran glanced at the captain, and was surprised to see that there was not even a hint of worry or surprise in the man's expression.

Arran creased his brow in a deep frown when he realized that this was exactly what the captain had expected to happen. And if the captain had expected this, then he would have a plan — even if Arran still had no idea what it might be.

After a moment's thought, Arran let out a small sigh. Before he tried to massacre his way out of the city, he'd first see what the captain was planning.