"The false gods speak ill of the king. and I can't help but wonder… is it hatred that drives them, or envy?"
------------------
"Then let it burn," Tarkun snarled. "Better to rule over ashes than bow to murderers and demon-worshippers."
The finality in his voice told Anumi everything she needed to know. This meeting had been a charade from the beginning. Tarkun had no intention of negotiating in good faith. He had brought them here to humiliate them, to demonstrate his power before crushing them utterly.
She was about to voice this realization when the great doors burst open with a crash that echoed through the chamber like thunder. A young man stumbled in, his face flushed with exertion and his clothes disheveled from hard riding. Anumi recognized him as one of Tarkun's messengers, though she couldn't recall his name.
"My lord!" the messenger gasped, barely able to catch his breath. "The prisoner ...the king's blessed...he's escaped!"
The words fell into the chamber like a lightning bolt, instantly transforming the atmosphere from tense negotiation to electric crisis. Tarkun's face went through a remarkable transformation. surprise, fury, and something that might have been fear all flickering across his features in rapid succession.
"Escaped?" he bellowed, his voice shaking the very stones.
"How in the seven hells does a man escape when he's half dead?"
"There were others," the messenger stammered. "A group of men.. soldiers, we think. They overwhelmed the guards and freed him. The whole lower level is in chaos."
Anumi felt her heart skip as the implications crashed over her. Someone had rescued the wanderer, which meant there were forces in play that none of them had accounted for. But more immediately dangerous was the look of murderous rage building in Tarkun's eyes as he turned his gaze on them.
"You fucking bustards," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper that somehow carried more menace than any shout.
"A rescue attempt just as the Dabru family comes calling. What remarkable timing."
"We had nothing to do with this," Arzash said urgently. "We've been here with you the entire evening."
"Have you? Or did you arrange this little distraction before your arrival?"
Tarkun's massive hands clenched into fists.
"Did you really think you could make a fool of me so easily, old man?"
"Lord Tarkun, I give you my word—"
"Fuck your words!!" Tarkun's laugh was like breaking glass. "The word of a family that harbors murderers and makes pacts with demons? Forgive me if I find your assurances somewhat less than compelling."
"Several men came to rescue him," the messenger continued breathlessly. Tarkun's face contorted with rage as he swore viciously, his gaze snapping to Lord Arzash with murderous intensity. Anumi felt terror flood through her veins like ice water. They had nothing to do with the escape, but she could see the suspicion burning in Tarkun's eyes, could feel the accusation forming on his lips.
"We have nothing to do with this," she said quickly, before Tarkun could speak. But her words only seemed to inflame him further. "YOU OLD MAN!" Tarkun roared, pointing an accusing finger at Arzash. "YOU TRICKED ME!"
Lord Arzash's face showed genuine concern for the first time that evening. He seemed to understand how precarious their situation had become.
"Lord Tarkun, we truly have nothing to do with this escape. We've been here with you the entire time. And besides, the king's blessed wouldn't be much help to us
anyway—"