Chapter 1 - Brought to Bay

"I don't believe in redemption, Lady," Syphis hissed out through clenched teeth, glaring defiantly at Lady Griflet. The floorboards felt cold and hard under his knees, but that was a minor discomfort compared to what the rest of his body was experiencing. He struggled in vain to loosen the invisible bonds holding him in place and pinning his arms, but they only constricted further, tiny fishhooks of magic digging deeper into his flesh. Syphis gasped and squeezed his eyes shut against the pain, sinking his teeth into his lips to keep from crying out. When the wave finally subsided, he gave a shuddering sigh of relief and sagged down with a groan, panting heavily.

If he had looked up at that moment, he would have caught the concern and pity in Lady Griflet's expression. She regarded him silently, her heart torn between his pain and the danger he posed. After a moment, she said, her voice soft, "It wouldn't hurt so much if you didn't fight it so hard."

"I'm not one to simply give up, Lady." Syphis lifted his head, and though his eyes were bright with pain, they also glittered with a hard, cold light that made the Lady shiver. She closed her eyes and looked away, trying to master her revulsion.

Her gaze strayed to the large four poster bed in the center of the room, its single occupant a middle-aged man with pepper-gray hair. Lord Griflet's profile would have been handsome at any other time, but now it lay waxy and wasted, the eyes sunken from long illness, the shallow breathing labored and irregular. His wife felt tears starting in her eyes at the thin, frail wreckage wracked by disease.

Taking advantage of her distraction, Syphis snarled under his breath and hurled every scrap of power he could summon against the magical barrier she had erected between him and the crystal that hung around his neck. If he could only break her shield, he could use the full force of his own magic, could unleash the fury that the crystal contained.

Lady Griflet staggered at the unexpected assault, and for a brief moment, the barrier trembled, caught between two opposing wills. Then her fingers curled around her own crystal, and the resulting surge of magic roared back at Syphis like a hurricane.

The physical agony arched Syphis' body into a tortured bow, but even that dimmed in comparison to the internal damage the magical storm inflicted. It howled around his mental barriers, the shields that guarded his mind and his Self. Syphis screamed, the sound faint and faraway to his own ears. He scrambled frantically to reinforce his protections, but the foreign magic went on and on, eroding away with agonizing thoroughness at the layers of his defenses until they were left raw and oozing.

Then, just as his mental shields bordered on collapse, the storm was gone. Syphis found himself on his side on the floor, tears streaming out of his eyes. Both his body and his mind felt as though someone had flayed off a layer of skin, and breathing took all his energy and concentration, but his barriers were still intact. Even in the midst of his pain, Syphis felt an overwhelming sense of relief. She had not broken into his mind, had not ripped it to shreds with her power.

Her face swam into view, pale and shaken, a far cry from her usual composed beauty. In her late thirties, Lady Griflet still possessed much of the same charm as she had ten years earlier, plus an unconscious grace that marked her as one of the kingdom's leading ladies. Her strawberry blond hair had retained its rich luster, her skin its delicate cream, and her hazel eyes their shine.

She lowered herself by Syphis' side, her dress forming a pool of green silk around her, and tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder. "Are you...?"

Syphis cut her off with a hiss, jerking back from her touch. They stared at one another. Finally, "Why the hell didn't you just kill me?" he snapped savagely. She stiffened but made no answer. "Don't want to dirty your hands, Lady? Saving me for the headsman?"

Lady Griflet colored and opened her mouth to make a sharp retort, but caught herself and merely eyed him thoughtfully. "I want you to reconsider my request."

Syphis laughed, a harsh, rasping sound. "I can't believe you're asking me - of all people! - to keep your son safe! After what I've told you!"

"Your past mistakes do not prevent you from trying for a better future."

He stared up at her, disbelief writ across his features at her persistence. "Why?" he demanded bluntly. His confession while under the power of her compulsion spell was enough to condemn him to an excruciating death anywhere in Asirov, anywhere in the Hundred Kingdoms, in fact. By her reaction to his name, she had surely heard of his reputation and the deeds he had done. And she wanted to entrust her son to him?

She hesitated only briefly, gathering her thoughts, then rose and gestured sadly at the blanket-covered form of her husband. "This plague... it isn't natural. I can do nothing for those stricken; no healer can. There is a human hand behind all this, an enemy who wishes to bring down House Griflet. And now," she gave him an ironic glance, "Now it seems that this enemy grows impatient with the progression of his plans, and seeks a more rapid road to our demise." She shook her head, brow furrowed with worry. "This place is no longer safe for any of us. I have no choice; I must send Jaeron away before this unseen enemy decides to try again. That is why I am asking for your aid."

"You mean to tell me that there's no one else you can send with him?" Syphis didn't bother to hide his contempt or incredulity. "Am I to believe that House Griflet is so desperate for retainers?"

Lady Griflet ignored his goading tone. "You're quite right. There are some others, loyal to our House, to whom I might appeal. However, if I send too large a party with him, it will attract attention, and I have no doubt that our borders are being closely watched. But if I send too few to guard him, they may not prove sufficient in a fight. House Griflet is not a military house. Our people can defend themselves, but they are not trained for stealth, and they are not trained to kill." She said no more, but the unspoken words 'You are' hung in the air, as clearly as if she had voiced them.

Syphis couldn't help but give her a vicious smile. "And what makes you think I won't decide to just fulfill my original contract the minute you let me go?"

The lady remained silent for a long time, gazing at the bed, her expression unreadable. Finally, just as Syphis was debating another attempt to get free, she turned back to face him, her eyes troubled but resolute, as if she had come to some decision and had steeled herself to the consequences. "I'm afraid, Master Vaski," she remarked softly, "That I'm prepared to take steps to ensure your compliance."

Syphis blinked, taken aback at her changed demeanor. For a moment, he could only gape at her in confusion. Then, a flicker of suspicion dawned in his mind and as it quickly grew into certainty, he felt his chest tighten. He forced a wild laugh. "A Binding! A healer casting one of the Forbidden Magicks!" His shoulders shook, though whether from his desperate mirth or the dread that gripped him, he could not have said. "That's just too classic. Pray tell, when did House Griflet first begin to condone slavery?"

Lady Griflet paled at his cruel taunt, turning white as the sheets upon the bed. Her hand clenched a fistful of her dress as she took a deep breath and tried to master her emotion. When she spoke again, her voice was steady. "Even a healer will do what she must to protect her family."

"Then why the hell did you pretend I had a choice?" Syphis snarled bitterly, abandoning his facade of jeering sarcasm. A bead of sweat rolled down his face. "Why bother with the farce of requesting my aid when you're just going to force it on me anyway?"

Her reply held pity and regret, but the words conveyed her determination. "Because... because it will go much easier with you, Master Vaski, if you... if you don't struggle against it."

Her answer left him cold and shaken. There was no need to state what they both already knew. For a Binding to be placed, there could be no barriers preventing the spell's access to the subject's mind. If Syphis chose to resist, she would have to demolish his inner shields before the spell could take effect. Weakened as he was, there would be nothing he could do to stop her. At best, it would be forceful enslavement; at worst, an agonizing violation, the mental equivalent of rape.

Syphis fought against his fear, but it was a losing battle. His breathing became rapid, and he had to clench his teeth to still his shudders. He bowed his head as despair crept into his heart. In a way, he had always known that the day would come when neither his magic nor his fighting skills would be enough to save him, and he had hardened himself to thoughts of his own death. Now, those thoughts seemed a blessing compared to what he was facing. Bound to another's will, at the mercies of someone else's whims...

A rustle of silk, and he found himself looking into the lady's eyes once more. They were bright with unshed tears. "I am truly sorry, Master Vaski. I have no choice." For a moment, she wondered why she was trying to comfort this man, but continued nonetheless. "I know my words are meaningless to you, but my son... someday he will be the most powerful healer in the Hundred Kingdoms. And whether or not you believe in redemption, trust me when I say that you will be rendering Asirov a great service."

Syphis heard her, but the words sounded distant and unimportant, muffled by his shock. He nodded numbly when she finished, feeling suddenly drained and weary. He would accept the Binding, would not waste his futile efforts fighting it. He tried to focus, to think beyond the immediate events of the moment, beyond the dread that formed a cold lump of lead in his stomach, but it was no use. And after all, what was the point of thinking about a future that he could not control?

>> "Chapter 2 - Reluctant Escort"