38 - Consequences
Garrick sat stone-faced in his office, fingers laced together as he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to them. Bran and Edain stood before him while Lyndon and Maeve stood to his right. Tension flowed off them in waves, for all but Edain who held herself tall. Garrick glanced once at the sling on her arm, but said nothing. She was the only one who looked him in the eye, too, expression respectful but eyes challenging.
“Tell me,” he commanded quietly. “What happened?”
Lyndon stood up straighter. “I gave orders to move Luka to the infirmary.”
Garrick’s questioning was sharp. “Why?”
“He hadn’t responded to anything since yesterday when the archmage and his majesty were here,” Lyndon explained. “Not even to eat. We thought a difference of location and perhaps soft stimulation may wake him up and get him to eat.”
“It was my idea,” Edain spoke up.
The knight commander shot her a look. “But I agreed to it. Lady Glennan gave a reasonable argument. So we carried it through.”
Garrick nodded. “Go on.”
“There was a mistake in the ordering of the supplies for the tower. I was called away to deal with it,” Lyndon said.
“And you left Luka in the infirmary with Sergeants Halek and Glennan and squire Byrick. If anything had gone wrong,” Garrick frowned.
“We had sedatives,” Maeve said sharply. “We were prepared. We thought we were anyway.”
Lyndon’s jaw tightened. Garrick knew he didn’t much care for this lack of decorum being shown by his subordinates, but he said nothing again, knowing they were only trying to help him.
“I understand, sir,” Lyndon said. “It was completely an oversight on my part. I should have sent more men or secured him and had him moved back to his cell.”
“We argued with you,” Bran mumbled.
“Enough!” Lyndon hissed.
Garrick held up his hand. “No, Lyndon. They’re right to defend you. As far as I’m concerned, you did nothing wrong.”
“But-”
“No protests, commander. You did what you thought I would do. I can’t fault you for that.”
Lyndon’s mouth shut fast. He swallowed and nodded. His spectacles rested on the tip of his nose, but he did not adjust them now.
Garrick turned back to the others.
“What went wrong then?” he asked.
“Captain Hawthorne returned early.”
Garrick swore. “What did he do?”
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“He found Luka in the library. He was…playing,” Bran said.
“He was doing so well, too,” Edain muttered.
“Edain,” Bran hissed.
“He was!” Edain protested, louder this time. “Luka was fine until that ass…inine bastard stormed in like he was the executioner himself.”
Garrick’s eyes narrowed. “Where is Luka now?”
Edain’s eyes finally flickered. She looked down.
“In his cell. We had to chain him back up again.”
He felt a sharp twist in his chest at the report. “Meaning he had no chains on to start?”
“Yes, sir,” Lyndon said. “We bathed him and gave him new clothes. He was docile.”
“But Captain Hawthorne…”
Edain’s eyes flashed with anger. “He called Luka a monster. Provoked him. Grabbed him.”
Garrick’s face hardened, eyes narrowing. “And?”
Bran’s voice dropped lower, filled with remorse. “Luka fought back. Bit him, clawed him. When we tried to get him to stop, he turned on us.
“He was terrified,” Maeve interjected.
Lyndon looked at her sharply and shook his head.
Bran cleared his throat and finished his report. “We had to pin him down, sedate him. If the collar hadn’t been working, we’d most likely not be here.”
The words hung heavy in the air. Bran’s face still looked raw and red from where Luka’s fingers had drawn blood. Garrick closed his eyes and let out a slow breath.
“Is that all?” he asked, knowing it probably wasn’t.
“No, sir,” Bran said softly. “I struck Captain Hawthorne.”
Garrick’s jaw tightened. He opened his eyes and looked up again.
“You struck a superior officer?”
Bran didn’t blink. “Yes, sir, I did.”
“You know I have to punish you for striking a superior officer,” Garrick said flatly.
“I do, sir.”
Maeve looked ready to protest again, but this time Lyndon grabbed her arm and shook his head. Garrick stood, moving past them and standing in front of Bran.
“One week's suspension. No pay, and when you return, you will be on extra rotations,” Garrick told him.
Bran only nodded, eyes downcast. With a sigh, Garrick placed a firm hand on the sergeant’s shoulder, his grip strong.
“Thank you,” he said. “For protecting him.”
Then, he turned to the knights in the room.
“Lyndon, Glennan, with me,” he said sharply.
He didn’t wait to see if the two would be following. He knew they would. As they left the study, Bran, and Maeve behind, Garrick’s sharp steps echoed in the corridor.
“Where is Riven now?” he asked.
“In the infirmary. He was bitten rather badly,” Lyndon admitted.
Edain mumbled something unintelligible under her breath. Garrick did not ask her to repeat the litany of curses she was probably composing.
“Do you want to go there first?” Lyndon asked him.
Garrick nodded tightly.
Edain pursed her lips and turned on her heel. They’d barely reached the first floor, however, when a panicked squire Collin raced up the steps from the cells below, pale and clutching the hilt of his sword as if his life depended on it.
“Sir Nealan and Sir Harlan sent me up here, sir,” he stammered. “The mon- I mean, Luka is awake, sir, but he’s…he’s screaming and thrashing. They don’t know what to do.”
“Dammit!” the high commander growled.
He glanced at Lyndon. The knight commander met his gaze.
“Go. I’ll hold Riven in the infirmary until you get there,” he said.
“Tell them to do nothing,” Garrick ordered Collin. “I’m coming.”
Collin took a deep breath and nodded, racing back down the steps to do as he was told. He quickly followed after the squire, dreading what he was about to see. All that progress, all that trust. Gone in a single moment of anger and foolish pride. He hadn’t expected this from Riven, hadn’t expected his most stalwart knight to break like this, but perhaps…
No. Garrick shook his head.
He would try to understand Riven later. For now, he needed to go see Luka.
