drop to one knee.
"Where is she?" De'Unnero demanded again, and he snapped his powerful arm out and down some more.
Roger heard the pop of his elbow a moment before the wave of agony crashed over him. He would have fallen to the floor, but De'Unnero grabbed him by the hair and jerked him upright. The poor man tried to grab at his broken elbow, but De'Unnero hit him a backhand across the face that sent him flying backward, crashing over the side of the small desk and crumpling against the base of the wall.
As his vision refocused, he saw De'Unnero towering over him. He tried to kick out, but the monk stamped upon his ankle and pinned it brutally to the floor.
"You went north with your wife," De'Unnero remarked. "Beyond Caer Tinella, so obviously to Dundalis. When I find your precious wife, perhaps I can persuade her to tell me of Jilseponie's whereabouts."
The mention of Dainsey brought a surge of power to Roger and he kicked out with his free foot, aiming for the knee of the leg pinning him.
But De'Unnero jumped straight up, then came down lightly on one leg behind the blow, and before Roger could retract his leg for another strike, the monk's other foot smashed into his face.
All the room was spinning.
"Make it easy on yourself and your wife, Roger Lockless," he heard De'Unnero saying, though it seemed as if the monk's voice was coming from far, far away. Roger felt himself being lifted into the air and set back on his feet. He forced his eyes to open and to focus.
Just in time to see De'Unnero's fist sweeping in at his jaw.
He felt the blow, and felt the wall crunch against the back of his head.
De'Unnero kept screaming at him, and kept hitting him.
Roger awoke sometime later, in the dirt of his cell that was turning to mud from Roger's own spilling blood. Aware of a presence behind him, the man turned his head about.
De'Unnero stood at his dungeon door, blocking the flickering firelight behind him, seeming even larger and more ominous in silhouette.
"We will speak again when you are well enough to feel the pain," the monk promised. "And well enough to understand the pain that will befall your dear Dainsey should you refuse." With that, the monk walked away.
Roger settled back into the mud. Hours had passed since the beating, he knew, and yet De'Unnero had stood there, waiting for him through all that time, just to make that one comment.
Even through the haze and pain of the beating, it was that last image of determined De'Unnero's imposing silhouette that stayed with Roger, that brought to him a sense of hopelessness beyond anything he had ever known.
Chapter 27 When Aydrian Came Home
The weather had cooperated wonderfully, and with his magical gemstones, Aydrian could light a fire on the wettest wood with ease. Those gemstones had made the trails so much easier, as well, for whenever they came upon a difficult obstacle along the road, Aydrian simply took out his malachite and used its levitational powers to take even the largest wagons across.
Thus the army out of Palmaris had made great progress out into the Wilderlands, crossing the frozen Moorlands without incident and moving up into the mountains. They all suspected that they were getting close to this strange enemy, the Touel'alfar - a fact confirmed that very night when whispering comments filtered throughout the encampment, melodic voices bidding them to "turn back," warning them to "go away, go home."
More than a few of the Kingsmen were unnerved by the ghostly whispers, but Aydrian wandered throughout the camp, full of enthusiasm, telling his men that the mere presence of the elven voices confirmed that they were drawing near to their goal.
"They try to scare us away," he explained, "because they know that they cannot beat us in the field. When we find Andur'Blough Inninness, as we soon will, the Touel'alfar will have to flee or die!"
Bolstered by his words and supreme confidence, the soldiers began shouting back threats and shaking their fists at those wind-carried whispers.
Convinced that the men were back in line, Aydrian went to his own tent, securing a pair of guards at the entrance and three others strategically placed around the sides. Inside, the young king lit no candle, but rather, sat in the darkness, clutching his soul stone. The elves were near! His spirit walked out of his body a moment later, drifting through the encampment and tuning in to