rattling as he struggled against Dieter's iron hold. "My own people don't care if I live or die. Why would the Illussor?" He lay still, gasping for breath, amber eyes glazed with pain. "I don't know!"
Dieter let him go with a rough cry. "I should kill you."
"It would be a mercy," the prisoner said bitterly.
"Which is why I will not." He looked pensively at the prisoner, who was examining the food over the fire. "Are you hungry?"
"I will never be hungry enough to accept your name." The prisoner looked at him with an angry frown, and Dieter would swear there was something of a pout to it.
Dieter lifted the roasting meat from the fire. He ate heartily for several minutes, offering the prisoner none. "Why are you so touchy about a simple name? It is not as though it would kill you to be called something other than prisoner. You could simply tell me your real name."
"What does it matter!" the prisoner snapped. "I am of no concern to you. At least not important enough that you need my name. A prisoner is all I am, and a prisoner is all I shall be."
Dieter considered him. "You could have escaped in the time you had after using your damned pollutions."
"Those pollutions saved your life," the prisoner replied.
"You are still my prisoner."
The prisoner hefted his chains and sneered. "So I noticed. Whatever happened to a life for a life?"
"You took the lives of my men, and the rest of them died because the Illussor wanted you. Tell me why I should not let them have you?"
"Because though the Krians hate Salhara, they hate the Illussor just as much. You will not give them what they want, especially if you think I can be used against them."
"You think you can be used to hurt them?"
The prisoner snorted, "No. But they were after me for a reason."
"A reason you claim not to know."
"I speak the truth!" the prisoner shouted, his words echoing off the rocks just behind them. "I am rejected by my Brothers and my country. I am nameless. I have no purpose."
Dieter stared at him in surprise. "How is a man nameless?"
"None of your business."
"Why did you kill my men if you have no Brother, no country, no purpose?"
"Kill a hundred of my enemies and I shall welcome thee as friend. Kill a thousand of my enemies and I shall welcome thee as Brother," the prisoner quoted softly. He looked at Dieter, eyes burning hot gold in the firelight and setting sun. "The blood of Kria is my only hope."
"Would that I could kill you," Dieter swore. "That is not what the saying means. Sacrificing my men for so selfish a purpose. I will find a fitting punishment if it is the last thing I do."
The prisoner closed his eyes and laughed. "Do your best."
*~*~*
The prisoner was dying.
Dieter had lost track of the days he had been without food or water. At least three as they traveled and one or two after his Scarlet were slaughtered and however many days they had been on the road. He held the prisoner close, expression intent as he looked at the man barely conscious in his arms. "Do you really want to die?"
"No." The prisoner stared weakly at Dieter. "But I will not accept your name. Let me be called prisoner and be content."
"No," Dieter said fiercely. He wished he could explain to them both why it mattered so much. The prisoner was right: his name should matter little to Dieter. He should not care whether the prisoner lived or died. He should want him dead after the massacre of his entire Scarlet.
Except he wanted the strange prisoner, filthy and weak and enemy that he was, to accept the name that Dieter had chosen. On some level, it mattered. Dieter had learned long ago to trust such feelings, whether he understood them or not.
"Do you want to die nameless?" he asked, sensing somehow this was the right thing to say. "Unwanted by the people who should be welcoming you as a hero? Alone in the woods in the arms of your enemy?"
A hundred emotions flickered across the prisoner's face, pain and rage and misery like shadows in his eyes.
"You are
Dieter let him go with a rough cry. "I should kill you."
"It would be a mercy," the prisoner said bitterly.
"Which is why I will not." He looked pensively at the prisoner, who was examining the food over the fire. "Are you hungry?"
"I will never be hungry enough to accept your name." The prisoner looked at him with an angry frown, and Dieter would swear there was something of a pout to it.
Dieter lifted the roasting meat from the fire. He ate heartily for several minutes, offering the prisoner none. "Why are you so touchy about a simple name? It is not as though it would kill you to be called something other than prisoner. You could simply tell me your real name."
"What does it matter!" the prisoner snapped. "I am of no concern to you. At least not important enough that you need my name. A prisoner is all I am, and a prisoner is all I shall be."
Dieter considered him. "You could have escaped in the time you had after using your damned pollutions."
"Those pollutions saved your life," the prisoner replied.
"You are still my prisoner."
The prisoner hefted his chains and sneered. "So I noticed. Whatever happened to a life for a life?"
"You took the lives of my men, and the rest of them died because the Illussor wanted you. Tell me why I should not let them have you?"
"Because though the Krians hate Salhara, they hate the Illussor just as much. You will not give them what they want, especially if you think I can be used against them."
"You think you can be used to hurt them?"
The prisoner snorted, "No. But they were after me for a reason."
"A reason you claim not to know."
"I speak the truth!" the prisoner shouted, his words echoing off the rocks just behind them. "I am rejected by my Brothers and my country. I am nameless. I have no purpose."
Dieter stared at him in surprise. "How is a man nameless?"
"None of your business."
"Why did you kill my men if you have no Brother, no country, no purpose?"
"Kill a hundred of my enemies and I shall welcome thee as friend. Kill a thousand of my enemies and I shall welcome thee as Brother," the prisoner quoted softly. He looked at Dieter, eyes burning hot gold in the firelight and setting sun. "The blood of Kria is my only hope."
"Would that I could kill you," Dieter swore. "That is not what the saying means. Sacrificing my men for so selfish a purpose. I will find a fitting punishment if it is the last thing I do."
The prisoner closed his eyes and laughed. "Do your best."
*~*~*
The prisoner was dying.
Dieter had lost track of the days he had been without food or water. At least three as they traveled and one or two after his Scarlet were slaughtered and however many days they had been on the road. He held the prisoner close, expression intent as he looked at the man barely conscious in his arms. "Do you really want to die?"
"No." The prisoner stared weakly at Dieter. "But I will not accept your name. Let me be called prisoner and be content."
"No," Dieter said fiercely. He wished he could explain to them both why it mattered so much. The prisoner was right: his name should matter little to Dieter. He should not care whether the prisoner lived or died. He should want him dead after the massacre of his entire Scarlet.
Except he wanted the strange prisoner, filthy and weak and enemy that he was, to accept the name that Dieter had chosen. On some level, it mattered. Dieter had learned long ago to trust such feelings, whether he understood them or not.
"Do you want to die nameless?" he asked, sensing somehow this was the right thing to say. "Unwanted by the people who should be welcoming you as a hero? Alone in the woods in the arms of your enemy?"
A hundred emotions flickered across the prisoner's face, pain and rage and misery like shadows in his eyes.
"You are
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