Gaardal tested the ropes that bound his wrists once again. Â They never budged. Â Normally he would have no problem breaking the material, but he had lost a lot of blood in the recent days.
They called him and Garston sick and twisted, but here he was, missing one eye and one testicle. Â But he pushed through the pain, using his years of training to heal himself, albeit slowly.
His loyalty to Garston was never wavering. Â It was stronger than that dead elezen's ever would have been. Â He never broke until they brought the boy's name into things.
Rendafel had no idea what was going on, and he didn't want the boy to be dragged into this. Â He would take the blunt of their anger, take the pain, anything they gave him.
The hidden pearl in his ear hummed. Â It was on the whole time he was questioned, Garston having heard everything. Â Gaardal understood his boss's thinking, and accepted his fate at the hands of these Drifters if Garston would be able to continue on.
"Gaardal."
The man made a light grunt. Â He didn't want anyone nearby to hear him talk.
"Gaardal ... Garston is dead."
Gaardal closed his one eye, shoulders slumping. Â "How." Â It was said low but enough to be heard over the pearl.
"He was tortured. Â Knife found in his gut while he was in his bed. Â Must have been an inside job. Â No way anyone could have gotten in."
The highlander gave a deep chuckle, banging the back of his head on the stone wall a few times in anger. Â He was not there to do his job, and now ... Garston was dead.
He would surely be next.
"Protect the boy. Â Keep him out of this. Â I fear I will be next."
The voice on the pearl was silent for a time. Â "Understood, Gaardal. Â Twelve watch you."
And the connection was cut.
Gaardal slumped against the wall, chuckling to himself. Â The pain from his skull radiated through his body. Â He did not care.
The door nearby opened, light bouncing off a figure in the doorway.
The man sneered. Â "Do your worst ..."
They called him and Garston sick and twisted, but here he was, missing one eye and one testicle. Â But he pushed through the pain, using his years of training to heal himself, albeit slowly.
His loyalty to Garston was never wavering. Â It was stronger than that dead elezen's ever would have been. Â He never broke until they brought the boy's name into things.
Rendafel had no idea what was going on, and he didn't want the boy to be dragged into this. Â He would take the blunt of their anger, take the pain, anything they gave him.
The hidden pearl in his ear hummed. Â It was on the whole time he was questioned, Garston having heard everything. Â Gaardal understood his boss's thinking, and accepted his fate at the hands of these Drifters if Garston would be able to continue on.
"Gaardal."
The man made a light grunt. Â He didn't want anyone nearby to hear him talk.
"Gaardal ... Garston is dead."
Gaardal closed his one eye, shoulders slumping. Â "How." Â It was said low but enough to be heard over the pearl.
"He was tortured. Â Knife found in his gut while he was in his bed. Â Must have been an inside job. Â No way anyone could have gotten in."
The highlander gave a deep chuckle, banging the back of his head on the stone wall a few times in anger. Â He was not there to do his job, and now ... Garston was dead.
He would surely be next.
"Protect the boy. Â Keep him out of this. Â I fear I will be next."
The voice on the pearl was silent for a time. Â "Understood, Gaardal. Â Twelve watch you."
And the connection was cut.
Gaardal slumped against the wall, chuckling to himself. Â The pain from his skull radiated through his body. Â He did not care.
The door nearby opened, light bouncing off a figure in the doorway.
The man sneered. Â "Do your worst ..."
