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Leareth Loses It	By : masterdark Category: S through Z > Valdemar Series Views: 2381 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Valdemar Series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Leareth Loses It
- 1
It was a peaceful, starry night in the k’Treva vale. The only noises were the croaking of frogs, the bubbling of hot springs, and the scurrying, scuffling noises of the Hertasi as they caught nocturnal insects and gulped them down. In a large tree house in the lower branches of an enormous oak tree, Moondance woke with a start to the mind-voice of his bond-bird in danger. “I’m just outside the vale,” the bird mind-spoke. “It’s a creature from the Pelagirs. You can easily defeat it once you get here. Just hurry!”
Moondance bolted out of bed, tied a sash around his hips like a loincloth, attached his dagger to it, and shoved his feet into his boots. He leapt down the flights of steps to the ground and began sprinting toward the northeast end of the vale where his bond-bird was. Once he reached the border, he easily slipped across the Mage-barrier erected against cold and enemies. By now, Moondance was near enough to hear the distressed cries of a gyrfalcon. He followed the noise through the wild conifer trees until he caught sight of a horrendous, shaggy, barrel-shaped monster with thick muscular legs, a squashed-in face, and horrible, shark-like teeth. The creature’s claws were entangled in the feathers of his bond-bird.
“Let him go!” Moondance roared, summoning a small Mage-blast and charging at the monstrosity. His cry startled the creature enough that it released the gyrfalcon and whirled around to face its assailant. It reared and bared its teeth at the fiery sphere of lightning forming in Moondance’s hands, then made ready to charge at the mage. Moondance fired his Mage-blast in the monster’s face, flinching as the beast’s howl throbbed painfully against his eardrums. The monster, having judged Moondance to be too strong of an opponent, turned and fled deeper into the trees. “Thank you,” his bird mind-sighed with relief. “How about I finish looking for prey inside the vale?”
“That’s a wise idea,” Moondance mind-spoke back, lifting his arm for the gyrfalcon to land on. “Just how did that thing get its hands on a smart bird like you?”
“It seemed able to read my mind and know my next move,” the bird answered. “Its mind was entirely closed to me, though.”
“That’s odd,” Moondance frowned. He turned around suddenly as the bushes behind him rustled. “Who’s there?” he demanded aloud, summoning a mage-light.
“Well, well,” a sinister voice taunted. “It seems someone is out of bed late at night straying beyond the safe borders of his home. Perhaps I should inform your mother so she can spank you.”
“Starwind would be happy to do the honors,” Moondance thought silently, a wry smile playing across his lips. What idiot had the gall to taunt a Tayledras Adept late at night in territory near the vale? If he wasn’t careful, the fool could’ve startled Moondance enough to get himself killed by a strong Mage-blast.
The stranger emerged from the cover of the bushes. He was deathly pale with rather Tayledras-looking features, long dark hair (though not nearly as long as Moondance’s), and fierce, piercing dark eyes. His clothing was also dark in color and modeled after the style of Heraldic Whites, and he wore spiky armor wrought from a dull black metal. “Impressive,” the stranger murmured silkily, his eyes surveying Moondance’s form. Moondance suddenly realized that he was nearly naked and standing in front of a man who was definitely not of the k’Treva clan and probably not even Tayledras. Since the outside temperature was below freezing, Moondance also felt chilled despite the fact that Tayledras were highly cold-resistant.
The strange man’s eyes took on an odd and hungry red gleam as he continued to study Moondance. That meant that the man was definitely shay’a’chern, definitely an evil creep, and probably trying to make him feel threatened. To make sure, Moondance checked the man’s aura and, to his horror, he caught the scent of rotting blood. The man was no ordinary evil creep; he was a blood mage! He was also magically stronger than Moondance, much stronger, which was even more horrifying.
“Get back, you demon!” Moondance shrieked. Switching to mind-speech, he cried, “Starwind! I need help! There’s a powerful blood mage here!”
He felt his life-bond startle awake. “I’m coming, shay’kreth’ashke,” Starwind mind-spoke back. “I’ll bring more mages with me.”
The blood mage smiled. “So you’re calling for help,” he jeered. “Don’t play dumb with me; it’s obvious you’re sending a distress call when you mind-speak while blocking me out. Need Daddy to come rescue you?”
“He’s my life-bond, you idiot,” Moondance muttered. “Although I’ll admit he is old enough to be my father.”
The evil mage smiled again, a smile more like a wicked grimace. “You have probably realized by now that if I so chose, I could smite your entire vale, shields, people, birds, and all, since I’ve Coercioned several weaker mages into tapping into nodes for me. I can draw the power directly from them with no ill effects. Why am I telling you this? I’m giving you a choice: I’ll let you run and save yourself while I destroy your vale. Or…”
The mage paused and ran his tongue over his teeth, licking his cuspids threateningly. “You could come with me. I will spare your people, your birds, your vale, and everything else you value, but you will suffer greatly- in the worst way possible.” The red gleam returned to his eyes.
Moondance froze. The mage meant… rape. However, Moondance couldn’t allow him to destroy the vale. Nearly everything and everyone he had ever cared for were in the k’Treva vale. Unless… his gyrfalcon. Yes, the trusty bond-bird still sat on his arm, and once the mage had taken him away, he could send the bird back to k’Treva to tell Starwind where he was.
“I will go with you,” Moondance said resolutely.
“Yes, you shall, but you are not allowed to bring your little bird,” the mage said as though he had read Moondance’s thoughts. “In fact, I could kill your poor birdie right now…”
He paused to savor Moondance’s agonized wince. “No, actually, I will let him fly back to the vale to deliver the distressing news of your capture to your people. You have a life-bond?”
“What do you care?” Moondance spat, mindspeaking his bond-bird to fly back to the vale and take his dagger to Starwind. If somehow beyond all hope Starwind managed to find the blood-mage’s lair, the dagger might come in handy during a rescue operation. The gyrfalcon launched himself from Moondance’s arm, expertly cut through the cord holding the dagger to Moondance’s sash, and took off into the darkness with a blur of wings and a gust of wind.
“Your dear life-bond will be in anguish as soon as he finds out what I will do to you,” the mage answered. “Yes, I know all about you, Moondance k’Treva. I set you up. I controlled the mind of that beast from the Pelagirs to catch your falcon so you would come and rescue him. I knew I could fight you more easily once you were outside the vale. Now that you have no hope of rescue once you are caught, I will ask you once again: Will you flee and leave me to destroy the vale, or will you come with me, thereby saving your clan but giving yourself up to torture?”
The mage mind-spoke Moondance, sending him an image of the vale in ruins. Trees and ekeles were toppled, smashed to nearly unrecognizable pieces. Dead, mutilated bodies were scattered across the ground. Starwind lay among them, his forest green clothing and beautiful silver hair soaking up a pool of his own blood. There was movement, and Brightstar struggled out from beneath Starwind’s body, shell-shocked and weeping. As suddenly as the image had appeared in Moondance’s mind, it melted away into an image of himself lying bound, helpless, and bleeding on a cold stone floor. His back was red and raw from being whipped and beaten, and the tender flesh around his neck and shoulders had been lanced with knives.
The second image faded as the first had, and the mage again stood before him with an evil, lustful grin spreading across his face. Moondance swallowed hard as he suppressed a shudder. He had no choice. “I will go with you,” he told the mage, bowing his head with anguish.
“Very good,” the evil creep hissed with ravenous glee. “Oh, look, your friends are trying to gate here. I think I’ll hijack the gate so it will take us to my mansion and send your friends tumbling into this spot where they’ll find absolutely nothing. I’d also better do this.” The blood mage pulled some thin but strong rough cord from under his tunic and began binding Moondance’s hands. When he was nearly finished, the mage yanked cruelly on the bonds so that they cut into Moondance’s slender wrists. He licked his lips as he watched a drop of blood trickle down his victim’s hands.
As soon as the gate was almost complete, the mage began pouring more energy into the gate, warping and twisting it to his will. As soon as he was finished, he leapt through the gate pulling Moondance behind him by his bound, bleeding wrists.
Moondance found himself falling onto a hard, cold, stony floor with the blood mage still holding his wrists and leering at him. “You have amazingly tender, sensitive skin, Moondance k’Treva,” the mage drooled, yanking Moondance to his feet and examining the fresh abrasions on his knees from having fallen on the hard, rough floor. “However, if I catch you using healing powers on any of your injuries without my bidding, your clan will pay dearly, especially your precious Starwind.” He sighed with hungry pleasure when a startled and anguished gasp escaped his victim’s lips.
Moondance, already horrified by his captor’s knowledge of and threats against Starwind, shuddered as the cruel mage’s arms slid around his waist. The mage’s hands began reaching behind Moondance’s long, silver hair and up his back, stopping just below the head. The evil man pulled Moondance roughly toward him and kissed him deeply, passionately, and very violently. Moondance cried out in agony as the blood mage’s spike-studded armor pierced the delicate, creamy skin of his neck and shoulders. The mage’s tongue wriggled around in his mouth, and sharp teeth sliced into his lips.
“Such pain,” the cruel man gloated, lapping the blood from Moondance’s lacerated lips. “You’re delectably easy to torture. However, what you feel now is but a foretaste of the agony you will soon suffer.”
Hot tears stung Moondance’s eyes as his captor’s tongue wriggled between every cut in his bleeding lips. The blood-mage sighed with sexual pleasure as he licked Moondance all over his neck and shoulders, savoring the feeling of his victim’s silken skin slippery with blood. When the bleeding slowed, the evil mage pulled away, dragged Moondance unceremoniously across the floor, and shackled his prisoner’s injured wrists with links of iron attached to chains hooked to the wall. The mage tightened the chains so cruelly that they nearly cut off the blood circulation in Moondance’s hands. When he had finished, he stood up and clicked his fingers loudly. Two huge wooden double doors creaked open to admit two servants, a middle-aged man and an elderly woman. Both had a tired, haunted, shell-shocked look about them as though they lived in a constant state of fear. They stumbled through the door and fell to their knees looking completely terrified.
“What is your bidding, Master Dark?” they asked in strained, throaty voices.
“I have successfully ensnared my prisoner,” the blood-mage, or Master Dark, answered as he turned to ascend a staircase and leave the room. “Keep him here chained to the wall without meals. If I find that either one of you has slipped him a single crumb of bread, both your heads will adorn the wall of my trophy room.”
The servants advanced toward Moondance with faces fixed like stone, and Moondance could sense their hatred of Master Dark and the things he did to his prisoners. They were thinking about others of their master’s captives who had died at his hands after many months of pure torture. They thought out loud as most people did, broadcasting gruesome images of bound, raped, and tortured victims with flesh cut by whips and seared with hot irons. Once Master Dark had left the room, their stony faces melted at the sight of Moondance lying bound, bleeding and helpless on the dungeon floor. The man gulped as though trying to shove down many memories of horror. The woman looked ready to cry.
Terror gripped Moondance now that he knew the full extent of the torture to which Master Dark would inevitably subject him. Here he was, tortured and chained in a cold dungeon, clad in nothing but the shear sash of hunter green silk that only covered down to a couple inches of his thighs. He shuddered, and the tears that had built up in his eyes began streaming down his cheeks. Being so vulnerable in front of complete strangers exacerbated his fear.
The woman knelt down beside Moondance. “Are you alright?” she asked tenderly, gingerly placing her hand against Moondance’s back to support him. “No, of course you’re not. What a stupid question!”
“He’s a mind-speaker, like me except trained and stronger,” she explained to her fellow servant. “He can read our thoughts. He knows what Master Dark will do to him.” The man turned pale and gulped again.
The elderly woman turned back to Moondance. “You’re a Tayledras, aren’t you,” she observed, “and a Healer-Adept judging by your aura. That will come in handy.”
Moondance sighed heavily. “Master Dark has threatened to destroy my people and my home if I use my Gift to heal myself,” he explained.
“Oh, gods,” the woman breathed. “So the trap worked. You have come here willingly to prevent the slaughter of your people. Shit, that is just like Master Dark, using your noble character against you! Well, I’ll see what I can do for you.” She began trying unsuccessfully to loosen the chains binding Moondance’s hands.
“Master Dark told you about his plan for capturing me?” Moondance queried while she worked.
“Yes,” she answered disgustedly, pulling out a needle and trying to pick the locks on the shackles. “He always tells me his plans because he knows it will upset me. The gods know I can’t do anything about it. Darith, will you fetch me a bottle of cold liquor?”
“Of course, Mom,” the middle-aged man answered as he began ascending the staircase. The woman began dabbing the blood and saliva from Moondance’s wounds with a clean rag. When her son returned, she doused the rag with the liquor and carefully cleaned the injuries. Although she was unable to reach beneath the tight shackles, she was able to move them from side to side enough to work some of the liquor underneath them. Moondance whimpered with pain at the unbearable burn, but he knew that the alcohol would help prevent infection. When the woman was done, she bandaged his neck, shoulders, and knees with strips of torn linen.
“What is your name, by the way?” she asked.
“Moondance,” he answered, having deduced that the woman and her son were trustworthy. “I am Moondance k’Treva.”
“I am Agna,” the old woman informed Moondance. “This is my son, Darith.”
Moondance smiled weakly at them, stunned by the anguish in their mind-voices behind their casual courtesy. This man and woman were no paid and willing servants; they were Master Dark’s captive slaves. They didn’t belong in dark dungeons with evil people anymore than he did. Agna and Darith were of kind hearts and altruistic motives: they had fallen into a terrible situation, but they did the best they could to see that their master’s prisoners endured as little pain as possible. However, they both knew that their efforts were ultimately futile. Master Dark was adept at detecting any medicines and healing spells that they might secretly use on his captives. Whenever they tried to help their master’s victims, he punished them by leading them forcibly into the courtyard where he kept the mangled corpses left from his orgies of torture. He would then order the two slaves to examine every dead body, and he would use both voice and mind-speech to show them how he had personally inflicted each gruesome wound. The most grisly and torturous sight in the courtyard was that of mutilated men, women, and even children still alive and writhing in agony, yet left in the courtyard to die.
Moondance turned away from the servants’ faces, his cheeks glistening with tears. He had barely met Agna and Darith, yet he felt like he knew them. He was experiencing their thoughts and memories, feeling their grief and rage, and shuddering with their fear and pain as well as his own. Since Master Dark had forbidden him to use his healing gift on himself, he channeled it into healing his newfound friend’s minds. These slaves were kind, courageous, and strong-willed people, but their master was slowly grinding them down. Moondance wondered how long it would be until both mother and son were driven to irreversible insanity. He bowed his head and began weeping.
Almost immediately, Moondance felt a comforting hand on each of his upper arms and looked up into the tearstained faces of Agna and Darith. He was sobbing uncontrollably, but he didn’t care anymore. All three of them now shared the same pain, and thus there was no need to hide it. After a long while, they calmed down and lay on the floor in exhaustion.
“We’d better get you some bedding,” Darith said suddenly.
“Good idea,” Agna agreed. “We’ll do that, and then we’ll see if we can also get some sleep of our own.”
Despite their fatigue, the servants got up off the floor, left the room for a few minutes, and returned with a bed sack filled with fresh straw, some worn but clean linen sheets, and three brown wool blankets. They arranged them on the floor for Moondance, made sure he was situated, and left the room to retire to the servants’ quarters. Moondance very much doubted he would be able to sleep in such a horrible, pain-filled place with injuries of his own that he wasn’t allowed to heal. However, he soon became overcome with exhaustion and dosed off into a deep sleep punctuated by dull nightmares.
- 1
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Leareth Loses It