The Adversary
an excerpt

Adversary – (noun) one who contends with, opposes, or resists, an enemy; (adjective) having or involving antagonistic parties or opposing interests.

Amok – out of control, a dissociative episode characterized by a period of brooding followed by an outburst of violent, aggressive, or homicidal behavior directed at people and objects.

Doyenne – a woman who is the eldest or senior member of a group.

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Some said that he was possessed by the Adversary, others that he was a favorite. Some said he had gone irreversibly insane. Still others claimed that Thomas Kane had simply “run amok,” that he had been bitten by a jahreen and now suffered from jahrennic fever. All Claire RoDolenn, Doyenne of Korso, saw when she peered between the bars of Kane’s isolated cell was a frightened and sick young man – not sickened by a malady of the body, but rather one of the soul.

Kane sat on the pad that served as bedding in the ten-by-ten cell, legs stretched out in front of him, hands lying loosely on his thighs. His head hung low, chin to chest, but when he realized she was there, he looked up. She stared for a long moment into haunted green eyes, eyes that had seen too much, that saw too much, even now. The pain she witnessed in his eyes before he shuttered them struck Claire like a physical blow.

His too-bright glance darted to the kerchief that covered her hair, the only visible sign of her office, and he seemed to back away from her, startled, although with his back against the stone wall he hadn’t truly moved. Kane met her eyes again, but she could no longer read him and that disturbed her greatly – one of the invisible signs of her office was the ability read people, to know the what and when and how of them.

“Are you here to make me confess, Lady?” His voice was thin, strained and scratchy. Claire recalled a mention overheard of Thomas Kane dragged through the streets of Korso, screaming, and that he hadn’t stopped screaming until a blow had finally knocked him low.

Knocked low indeed. Claire had known young Thomas all his life, had known his poor wife as well. Katrine was the reason he was here. Or rather Katrine's murder, of which Thomas had been accused and, in the hearts of many, convicted. Constable Harris had asked that one of the sisters of Korso examine Thomas Kane and discover the truth of what had happened. Claire simply could not allow anyone else to take care of this. She owed it to Thomas. She owed it to Katrine.

She owed it to their families.

Claire met Thomas' eyes, those green eyes that she should be able to see through into his soul. "No, Thomas, I am not here to make you confess. I am here to see justice done, as your sweet Katrine would have wanted." She licked suddenly dry lips. "And I am here to learn what happened, and that is something that cannot come from anyone but you."

She didn't know what she expected, but it wasn't for the young man before her to curl in on himself, to slump to the floor in a ball of silent misery. Just as she had felt the pain that had shone behind his eyes a few moments before, Claire felt the nearly palpable waves of fear and grief that emanated from him now, threatening to engulf her.

A step forward and Claire wrapped cold fingers around iron bars. As quickly as it had begun, the crushing emotion was gone, at least for her. Thomas still lay on the thin pallet, the only thing that separated him from the hard stone floor.

Arms wrapped tightly around his legs, Thomas shook. At first Claire thought that he shook with the force of his grief. It wasn't until he rolled to his back and slammed his head once, twice, against the floor that she realized he shook with the effort to regain control of himself.