Heeram Thule The sun continued to beat down on him. The rope dug viciously into his wrists. Deep grooves caked with blackened blood marked them. His ankles were similarly bound, though they had long since lost all feeling. The frayed remnant of rope lay about his head. The rope had bound his head, forcing his face to the sky; but there was a sharp fragment of bone near his head, and for a day and a half, he had rubbed the rope against it until it broke. It had given him little relief, for though he could turn his eye from the sun, the sand and powdered bone burned his cheeks. His arms were burned. His bare chest and legs were burned. The earth had burned his back and neck, leaving pealing, sensitive flesh at the mercy of fine bone fragments and pebbles. His body was pocked with blisters and sores, but death would not come for him. Death itself seemed to shun this place...as did life. A plate of food--black bread and salted meat--had been placed by his left hand just out of reach and a goblet of water by his right. He knew them to be poisoned and had scorned them. He had tried to cast spells of escape: opening, levitation, unbinding, even a fireball to blast the ropes. No spells would work in this place. That was days ago. Now he would give anything to eat that bread, that meat; the water had evaporated the first day. A shadow fell over him. *Is it night?* he thought to himself. *No. The shadow is on my face only. Death? Has death come for me?* Heeram Thule painfully turned his head to the shadow. His eye cracked open, but his sight had dimmed under the constant bombardment of the sun. The shadow seemed immensely tall. Soon it was joined by another. *Death? No, not death. Someone else. What then? Who?* He could not think. The effort was too great. Instead, he opened his mouth. His lips stuck stubbornly, then parted and cracked. His lips were too dry to bleed. He lay there with his mouth open, drawing dry air in harsh rasps. It was slow to dawn on him that these shadows were not apparitions. Urgency gripped him. He drew in another breath, but could not speak. His throat would produce no sound. His tongue felt like a dead thing, a hard rock rolling around his mouth. He heard sounds; voices, but they seemed distant to his seared ears. "--this man?" "Yes... one-eyed--" "--bastard--grief.--stepped on someone--" "Do you have--" "--needs water." "Not mine!" This last shot was quite clear. His ears slowly adjusted to the voices. Women. He grinned inwardly for his lips were too parched to stretch. He recognized on as that girl, J'layah. He would get out of this yet. Twilight stared down at the abused figure pinned to the pebbly ground. A moment later, J'layah was peeking over her shoulder. She gasped. The dark elf turned. "You know this man?" J'layah nodded dumbly. "Yes. He's the one-eyed man." Twilight looked back down at the man. Cold hatred and contempt crept into her face. Had J'layah seen it, she would have recoiled. "So this is the bastard who has given you such grief. It seems he has stepped on someone else's toes as well." There was grim satisfaction in her voice. J'layah started to kneel by the man, but Twilight grabbed her shoulder. It was clear she wanted J'layah to come no nearer to the one-eyed man, though he be staked and immobile. J'layah almost felt sorry for the man, but immediately squashed the feeling. This man had kidnapped her sister, threatened to kill her. He had sent her on a suicide mission. He deserved no pity. Yet his condition was horrible and she needed to know where her sister was. She turned to the dark elf. "Do you have any herbs or potions to heal him? He must be made to speak." Twilight stared down at the one-eyed man. "If I had any, he would have none. What he needs is water." J'layah nearly choked. She didn't have much water, having expected to be in Aldingbury, not some forsaken desert to bone in the middle on nowhere. She didn't even think before speaking. "Not mine!" Twilight almost gave her an annoyed look. "I wouldn't ask that of you. You are not accustomed to traveling great distances, so I wouldn't think you would have much water on you. I will spare some." J'layah blushed at the rebuke. Twilight reached into her pack and brought out a waterskin. She bent over the man and let fall a trickle into his blackened mouth. She did this a few times, pausing when he began choking or coughing. Still, she didn't give him anymore than to whet his throat. His first words were: "Untie me." The two elves stared at him for a moment. The dark elf broke the silence. "You are in no position to dictate." "Untie me!" His voice screeched and broke. Now J'layah was getting angry. She roughly removed her companion's hand from her shoulder and bent over the one-eyed man. She made sure her shadow did not fall on his face and shooed Twilight to the side so her shadow too did not fall on him. This was cruel, but she had had enough. "Where is my sister?" she hissed. The man grinned, creating fresh cracks in his lips. "And who might that be?" J'layah's dagger was instantly at his throat. She pushed the point against his neck until she broke the skin. "My sister. Where is she? Or so help me--" The man started a laugh which gave way to a coughing fit. The dagger nicked his throat with every spasm. He recovered himself shortly. "Go ahead. I have suffered worse than you could ever do! If I die, your sister will too." Twilight came over and took J'layah's shoulder. Gently, she pulled the elf away. J'layah gave no resistance, but let herself be seated in the pebbly sand. She ignored the intense heat. Twilight brought her waterskin into the man's view. "Now. Who are you?" The man leered. "What does it matter?" "I want to know who I'm about to torture." He gave a barking laugh. "This is no way to save that girl's sister." Twilight let fall a drop of water into his mouth. "Your name." She held the skin ready, but withheld another drop. He licked his lips, aware of only the waterskin. "Heeram Thule," he rasped. Despite the gravity of the situation, J'layah gave a thin smile. After all the pain and worry she had suffered at the hands of this man, he was now at her mercy. She watched Twilight with some interest, but Heeram Thule kept drawing back her eyes. Twilight continued. "Good. Now, where is J'layah's sister? Where is Ariana?" Heeram's face twisted. He opened his mouth, silently demanding more water. He was trying to turn the balance of power back to his side. He had played along with this dark elf that first time so he could strengthen his current position. No water, no information. Twilight saw this but remained unruffled. She moved the skin to him, but instead of placing it over his mouth, she held it over his forehead. She let a drop fall. The effect was amazing. He shook his head violently, trying to get the drop to roll down his face. Instead, it rolled into his empty eyesocket. He let out a howl. Twilight asked the question again, and again let a drop strike his forehead. It trickled into his ear. He was driven into a frenzy, cursing her and her parents and theirs until his throat bled. Occasionally, Twilight would let a drop fall on his face, but never his mouth. "Okay! Okay, I'll tell you. She is in Aldingbury and...and that black fortress." He dissolved into giggles at the look on the elves' faces. J'layah had given the reigns to Twilight long enough. She burst forward, stuck her mouth next to his ear. "Is she in Aldingbury or the fortress?" She had her dagger tip inside his ear. It seemed to have a more galvanizing effect now. "Both both. Her body is in Aldingbury--" J'layah almost drove the blade into his brain. "--and her soul is there." he cocked his head as best he could without disturbing the dagger. "Is that where the man lives who you crossed?" asked Twilight. "Crossed?" he screeched. "I haven't crossed anyone! He is insane. He wants the ring." J'layah frowned. "This?" She brought out Balefire's signet ring. It felt heavy in her hand, far heavier than it should have been. "I thought you wanted it." Heeram shook his head. J'layah quickly withdrew it before he cut himself. He tried to speak, but his throat caught. Twilight let a thin trickle from her waterskin splash in his mouth. "He wants it! I sent you to get it." He jerked his head up and strained against the thick ropes causing flakes of dried blood to float to the ground. "Don't let him have it! Don't give him the satisfaction! Don't let him feed the Heart." He fell back to the ground, chest heaving. The two elves glanced at each other. Feed the heart? J'layah started to speak but Twilight cut her off. "What does a ring have to do with a heart? What do you mean 'feed the heart?'" Heeram stared off into the sun. J'layah thought him dead, but for his moving chest. Twilight grabbed his head and brought it close to hers. "What do you mean 'feed the heart?'" The man's eye slowly focused on her. "The Heart is an artifact more powerful than you can imagine. It is the heart of the First One. Its blood is magicka itself. It must not be fed." With great effort, he continued. "Forget your sister. Leave this place. The ring cannot get near the Heart." J'layah bristled and shouted in his face. "My sister is more important than any Heart! Do you hear me?" Twilight laid down his head. He was again staring at the sun. J'layah raised her fists but Twilight grappled her and pulled her away. She struggled hard but vainly. Heeram made no movement. "I'm going to kill him!" she shouted, but Twilight wouldn't let her go. Slowly J'layah stopped, and as she looked at Heeram Thule, the man who had taken her sister and haunted her thoughts, she realized that he was dead. ++++++++++++++++++ Alduin dor Lammoth