Ahriman: Exile by John French

pupil of his remaining eye narrowed to a pinprick of hate as he saw Maroth. Ahriman heard the hatch seal behind them and let go of his hold on Maroth’s mind. The soothsayer slumped to the floor, and began to mewl and twitch. Ahriman felt a wave of nausea and fatigue bubble up as he broke the link. There was a sweat on his skin and he had to take a deliberate breath to balance his thoughts.
    Astraeos was looking at him, his expression stony and his mind a caution-clad fortress.
    ‘I can free you,’ said Ahriman. Astraeos was silent, his eye still fixed on Ahriman as if weighing the possibility of the offer being true.
    ‘How?’
    ‘The leaders of the Harrowing are dead,’ said Ahriman, and saw Astraeos’s eye flare with surprise.
    ‘At whose hand?’
    ‘Mine,’ said Ahriman. Astraeos shook his head, the chains holding him clinking at the movement.
    ‘You did not do that to free me.’
    ‘No.’ Ahriman held Astraeos’s gaze. ‘But I will free you.’
    ‘To what end?’ growled Astraeos and there was laughter in his voice. ‘To be another lord’s pet? To be yours?’
    ‘To save yourself, and your brothers,’ said Ahriman, and he watched Astraeos’s aura flare and churn with conflicting emotion. He hoped he had the measure of the renegade Librarian, and that this gambit would work. If it did not…
    ‘But what is the price, Horkos ?’ snarled Astraeos, loading Ahriman’s false name with contempt.
    ‘You will give me your oath, and follow my word,’ said Ahriman levelly. Astraeos did laugh at that, a full snarling laugh that hacked from his lungs and shook the chains.
    ‘You say you have slain your masters, so you will have few allies and less time.’
    ‘I need this ship, and the Harrowing on board must die. For that I need you and your brothers.’ Ahriman could see Astraeos struggling to contain warring instincts. ‘I can give you more,’ he said, and paused. ‘I can give you vengeance.’
    Astraeos gave him a long hard look, then spat on the floor.
    ‘My oath and the oaths of my brothers are not goods to be bartered for.’
    Ahriman nodded slowly. He had thought it might come to this, that he would have to take this step. He did not want to; Astraeos’s loyalty and defiance were qualities he admired, but there was no choice.
    ‘Very well.’ Ahriman raised Tolbek’s sword. He could feel the crystal at its core sing in tune with his mind. A thought drove cold light down the blade’s edge. He raised the sword and Astraeos followed with his eye, defiance hardening his face to pale stone in the sword’s light.
    Ahriman cut, the movement and his mind flowing as one. Astraeos fell to the floor. Maroth yelped from the corner at the sound of shearing metal.
    ‘Now you are free,’ said Ahriman, looking down at the figure at his feet.
    ‘Curse you,’ whispered Astraeos, anger making his voice shake. He remained on the floor, kneeling, with the remains of his chains hanging from his wrists. ‘Curse you to the end of all things.’ Ahriman nodded, swallowing a breath. The sword’s glow reflected from his eyes, and he turned towards the hatch.
    ‘Come,’ he said quietly. ‘I need your repayment for the life I give you.’ Astraeos did not move. He was breathing hard and Ahriman could feel the Librarian struggling to contain his rage.
    ‘You have my oath, sorcerer. But give me one thing in return for its theft.’ Astraeos looked up. ‘What is your name?’
    ‘My name is Ahzek Ahriman.’
    Astraeos nodded, without emotion or recognition.
    ‘We will need the ship’s mistress. If this insanity is to work we need her,’ said Astraeos and turned back to Maroth. The soothsayer was a hunched and foetal shape, clad in armour and tanned skin. Maroth’s jaw twitched as if he were going to speak but he said nothing, his black eyes jumping at every movement.
    ‘You can have him,’ said Ahriman, glancing from Astraeos to Maroth. ‘You may not demand vengeance but I give it to you.’ Astraeos got