The Detention Cells - Palace Sublevels
The three scouts sat in separate cells carved from stone and reinforced with steel. Each chamber was identical, bare except for a simple cot and a bronze mirror that Kael knew allowed observation from the control room. The prisoners couldn't see out, but Argus could see in, analyzing every gesture, every expression, every physiological tell that might reveal useful information.
Kael stood in the observation chamber with Elena and Marcus, studying the captives through Argus's enhanced displays. The artificial intelligence had already compiled preliminary psychological profiles based on their behavior during capture and the first hours of detention.
"Subject One," Argus reported, highlighting the lead scout on the central display. "Male, approximately thirty-five years of age. Military bearing consistent with professional soldier background. Stress indicators elevated but controlled. Probability of intelligence training: eighty-two percent. Estimated resistance to interrogation: high. Recommended approach: establish authority, demonstrate futility of resistance, offer pragmatic incentives for cooperation."
The display shifted to the second prisoner. "Subject Two: female, approximately twenty-eight years of age. Technical specialist based on equipment carried and callus patterns on hands consistent with precision instrument operation. Stress indicators significantly elevated. Probability of intelligence training: forty-one percent. Estimated resistance to interrogation: moderate. Recommended approach: emphasize personal safety, minimize perceived threat, appeal to rational self-interest."
Finally, the third prisoner appeared. "Subject Three: male, approximately twenty-three years of age. Less experienced than companions, stress indicators extreme. Probability of intelligence training: minimal. Estimated resistance to interrogation: low. Recommended approach: isolation anxiety, implied consequences, rapid capitulation probable with minimal coercion."
Elena studied the profiles with professional interest. "Argus has them categorized by vulnerability. Standard interrogation doctrine, actually quite good analysis for an intelligence that's only been conscious for a week."
"Learning curve accelerating," Argus confirmed. "Intelligence gathering and analysis protocols refined through continuous processing of historical data and tactical literature accessed from King Kael's archived knowledge base."
Marcus looked uncomfortable. "Your Majesty, what exactly are we planning here? These people surrendered without resistance. They're prisoners of war, entitled to certain protections under military law."
"They're spies," Kael corrected, his voice cold. "Garret sent them to gather intelligence about our capabilities. They would have reported everything they learned, enabling future attacks against Draven's Reach. They surrendered because fighting was suicide, not from any principle of honor."
"Even spies have rights," Marcus pressed. "Torture won't just stain our honor, it produces unreliable intelligence. People will say anything to make pain stop."
Kael turned to face his militia commander directly. "I have no intention of torturing them, Marcus. Torture is inefficient, unreliable, and unnecessary given the tools at our disposal. But I will extract every piece of useful intelligence they possess, whether they wish to share it or not."
He gestured to the displays showing the three prisoners. "Subject Three will break quickly under psychological pressure. Subject Two will cooperate once convinced resistance is futile and cooperation ensures survival. Subject One will resist longer, but even he will eventually recognize the logic of pragmatic capitulation."
"And if they don't?" Elena asked. "If Subject One maintains silence despite everything?"
Kael's expression was ice. "Then Argus will analyze every involuntary response, every micro-expression, every physiological fluctuation when we mention specific topics. The human body reveals truths even when the mind tries to conceal them. One way or another, they will tell us what we need to know."
Subject Three - The Breaking Point
Kael entered the youngest prisoner's cell alone. Subject Three, a young man whose sparse beard and uncertain eyes marked him as relatively new to dangerous work, scrambled to his feet at the king's entrance. Fear radiated from him like heat.
"Sit," Kael commanded, his voice carrying absolute authority that centuries of royal lineage had perfected. The young man collapsed back onto his cot as though his legs had been cut from beneath him.
Kael remained standing, looming over the prisoner with presence enhanced by Earth-learned psychological techniques. Silence stretched, oppressive and heavy. Let the prisoner's imagination work against him, filling the void with terrors worse than reality.
"What's your name?" Kael asked finally.
"D-Daven. Daven Marsh." The words tumbled out quickly, as if honesty might shield against whatever fate awaited him.
"Daven Marsh." Kael repeated the name thoughtfully. "Age twenty-three. From the Eastern Territories originally, relocated to Northern Wastes approximately eighteen months ago. Joined Garret Duskthorn's organization as technical assistant, promoted to field operations six months ago. This is your third reconnaissance mission. Your first two were simple observation tasks. This mission was your first deep penetration into potentially hostile territory."
The color drained from Daven's face. "How do you know that?"
"I know everything about you, Daven. Your background, your training, your capabilities. I know you joined Garret's operation because your family needed money after the Wasting Plague killed your father and left your mother unable to work. I know you send half your pay home to support three younger siblings. I know you've been having second thoughts about your employment for the past two months but stayed because you had no alternative."
Each revelation hit like a physical blow. Daven's hands shook. "That's impossible. How could you possibly know those things?"
In truth, Argus had extrapolated much of it from limited data and probability analysis, but Kael saw no reason to explain that distinction. Let the prisoner believe in omniscience. Fear of the unknown was a powerful motivator.
"The question isn't how I know," Kael said softly. "The question is what I intend to do with you now that you're in my custody."
"I surrendered," Daven said desperately. "We all did. We didn't fight. We put down our weapons and surrendered."
"You surrendered after being caught trespassing on crown lands with hostile intent. After working for a man who has systematically looted my city for thirteen years. After coming here specifically to gather intelligence that would enable future attacks against my people." Kael's voice remained calm, factual, making each statement an irrefutable truth. "Surrender doesn't erase crimes, Daven. It merely changes how those crimes are punished."
"I was just following orders," the young man pleaded. "I didn't know what Garret was doing here before I arrived. By the time I understood, I was in too deep to leave. He doesn't let people just walk away."
"No, I imagine he doesn't." Kael let that truth hang between them. "Tell me about Garret's organization. How many people work for him? What facilities does he control? What capabilities does he possess?"
Daven hesitated, loyalty warring with self-preservation. "I can't. If Garret learns I talked, he'll kill my family. He has people everywhere. Even if I'm locked in here, they're out there, vulnerable."
"Argus," Kael said to the air, "show Daven what we're capable of."
The bronze mirror on the cell wall flickered to life, no longer showing reflection but instead displaying an aerial view from a Watcher's perspective. The image zoomed across terrain, covering kilometers in seconds, until it focused on a small farmstead in what Daven recognized instantly as the Eastern Territories.
"That's my mother's house," Daven whispered, horror dawning. "You have eyes on my family?"
"We have eyes everywhere," Kael lied smoothly. The Watcher had simply done a wide patrol sweep and Argus had identified likely targets based on Daven's profile, but the prisoner didn't need to know the limits of their surveillance. "Your mother, your three siblings, all under observation. All protected."
The image shifted, showing RCSF units in patrol formation near the farmstead. They weren't actually there, the footage was from a different location entirely, but perspective and editing made it appear otherwise.
"Protected?" Daven looked up with desperate hope. "You'd protect them?"
"If you cooperate fully and honestly, yes. They'll be brought to Draven's Reach, given housing, employment, safety. Your mother will receive medical treatment for her condition. Your siblings will be educated, given opportunities they could never have in the Eastern Territories." Kael let the promise sink in. "But if you resist, if you hold back information, if you lie to me, then they remain vulnerable to Garret's retaliation. The choice is yours, Daven."
It wasn't really a choice. Not for a frightened young man who had taken dangerous work out of desperation rather than conviction. Daven's resistance crumbled like sand.
"What do you want to know?"
The Intelligence Flood
Over the next hour, Daven told them everything. The words poured out in a desperate flood, each revelation an attempt to purchase safety for his family through betrayal of his employer.
Garret's Northern Wastes fortress housed approximately two hundred personnel, split between technical specialists, soldiers, and support staff. The facility was heavily fortified but dependent on supply caravans from settlements further north. Recent production had focused on anti-automaton weapons after Garret became convinced that Kael had somehow survived and would eventually return.
"He's been paranoid about it for years," Daven explained. "He'd have nightmares, wake up screaming about bronze hands reaching for him. The others thought he was losing his mind. But then equipment started going missing from the Draven's Reach operation, and he became convinced you were back."
Elena leaned forward in the observation room, listening through the communication crystal. "Garret knew before we confirmed it. His instincts were warning him."
"Guilty conscience manifesting as paranoia," Marcus observed. "He betrayed his closest friend. Part of him has been waiting for retaliation ever since."
The interrogation continued. Daven described Garret's current capabilities including crude combat automatons reverse-engineered from stolen RCSF components, though far inferior to Kael's original designs. Experimental weapons including disruption fields that could temporarily disable magical enhancements. Desperate attempts to recreate the technological advantages Garret had helped destroy thirteen years ago.
"He's been in contact with the others," Daven revealed. "Liora and Asla. They communicate through magical sending stones, encrypted protocols. I don't know what they discuss, that's above my clearance, but the coordination has intensified in recent months."
Kael felt cold satisfaction at the confirmation. The betrayers were coordinating, recognizing threats even before fully understanding their nature. Good. Let them prepare. Let them fortify and strategize. It would only make their eventual defeat more absolute.
"Tell me about your mission here," Kael commanded. "What were your specific orders?"
"Survey the warehouse site, determine what happened to the operation team. Assess city defenses and population levels. Identify any unusual technological activity. Report findings back to Garret within three days." Daven's voice was hollow now, emptied by betrayal. "We weren't supposed to make contact. Just observe and report."
"You would have seen the restored districts, the active RCSF units, the signs of renewed industry. You would have reported all of it."
"Yes."
"And Garret would have responded how?"
"Increased force, probably. A strike team to eliminate whatever threat had emerged. He can't afford to lose the Draven's Reach supply line. Too much of his current work depends on components and materials only available here."
Kael absorbed that information. Garret was dependent on Draven's Reach, not just opportunistically exploiting it but actually relying on its resources. That dependency was both vulnerability and motivation for aggressive response.
"Anything else? Any other intelligence that might be relevant?"
Daven hesitated, then spoke quietly. "There's something else Garret has been working on. I only saw it once, by accident. He called it the Blackblood Project."
The name froze everyone. Blackblood Fields, where the original betrayal had occurred. Where demons had been driven back at terrible cost. Where Kael had been murdered by those he trusted most.
"Explain," Kael's voice was dangerously soft.
"I don't know much. Just that it involves demonic research. Garret has been studying corruption patterns, trying to understand how demons influenced human thinking during the wars. He's convinced there's a way to weaponize it, to create controlled corruption that enhances soldiers without fully transforming them." Daven looked up with haunted eyes. "The experiments I saw didn't go well. The subjects either died or became something no longer human. But Garret keeps trying."
Elena's voice crackled through the communication crystal. "Demonic enhancement research. Gods above, he's trying to create super soldiers using the same forces we fought to destroy."
"Worse," Kael said grimly. "He's trying to do what he accused me of. Blurring the line between human and something else, creating hybrids that might give him decisive advantage." He looked at Daven directly. "Where is this research being conducted? The main fortress or a separate facility?"
"Separate. I don't know where exactly. Subjects are transported out under heavy security and either return changed or don't return at all. The destination was never disclosed to my level."
Kael filed that away for future investigation. Garret had a hidden research facility somewhere in the Northern Wastes, separate from his main fortress. Finding it would be priority once immediate threats were addressed.
"You've been cooperative, Daven. That will be remembered." Kael stood, preparing to leave. "You'll remain in custody, but under comfortable conditions. Your family will be located and protected. If your intelligence proves accurate, you'll be treated fairly when this is over."
"And if Garret learns I talked?"
"Garret will have more immediate concerns than one compromised scout. I'm going to destroy everything he's built. By the time I'm finished, he'll wish he'd died on Blackblood Fields alongside me."
Subject Two - The Pragmatist
The technical specialist, a woman named Kira who had specialized in surveying equipment and precision measurement, proved more challenging but ultimately just as cooperative. Unlike Daven, she had no family to protect and no illusions about honor among thieves.
"I'm a mercenary," she said flatly when Kael entered her cell. "I work for whoever pays best and provides interesting technical challenges. Garret pays well, and his projects are fascinating. But I'm not loyal to him beyond the terms of our contract."
"Pragmatic," Kael observed.
"Realistic. I've worked for seven different employers over the past decade. Some of them are dead now, some have lost power, some simply found cheaper alternatives. The smart mercenary understands that loyalty is a luxury only the wealthy can afford, and even they rarely practice it."
Kael appreciated the honesty. "So if I offered better pay and more interesting technical challenges, you'd work for me?"
"Depends on the work and whether I believe you'll survive long enough to pay what you promise." Kira studied him with sharp eyes. "You're Kael Draven. The supposedly dead king returned from mysterious exile. Garret's been having nightmares about you for years. I thought he was paranoid, but apparently he was right to worry."
"What makes you think I'm the genuine article and not some clever impostor?"
Kira gestured around the cell. "This facility, the RCSF units operating with coordination I've never seen before, the surveillance capabilities that caught us kilometers from the city, the manufacturing restart evidenced by that bronze bird that's probably watching us right now through the mirror." She smiled without humor. "Either you're Kael Draven, or someone with equivalent technical genius has decided to impersonate him. Either way, I'm impressed."
"I could use someone with your skills," Kael said honestly. "My chief engineer is brilliant but he lacks experience with modern field survey techniques. You could fill that gap."
"For what purpose? What are you building here?"
"Everything. A city restored to its former glory. Technology advancing beyond previous limitations. Military capabilities sufficient to break my enemies and secure lasting peace." Kael's voice carried conviction born from thirteen years of planning. "Garret pays you to survey ruins. I'm offering you the chance to build the future."
Kira was silent for long moments, weighing options with mercenary pragmatism. "What happened to the other two scouts?"
"The young one is cooperating. The leader is still deciding whether his honor is worth more than his life."
"Daven talked? What did you offer him?"
"Protection for his family. Safety and opportunity in exchange for information."
Kira nodded slowly. "And what are you offering me?"
"Knowledge," Kael said simply. "Access to technical innovations that will make your current work look primitive. The chance to work with an artificial intelligence that exceeds anything on this continent. Payment in actual silver rather than Garret's promissory notes. And most importantly, survival."
"That last one sounds like a threat."
"It's a prediction. Garret is going to lose this conflict. When he falls, his entire organization will collapse. Those working for him will either die in the fighting or face justice afterward. But those working for me will prosper." Kael let that sink in. "I'm not asking for loyalty, Kira. Just enlightened self-interest. Which employer offers a better future?"
The technical specialist smiled, a expression of genuine amusement. "You know what? I actually like you. Garret pretends his work is noble, that he's preparing to protect the continent from threats. But you're honest about revenge and ambition. I prefer that."
"Is that a yes?"
"It's a conditional yes. I want to meet this artificial intelligence. I want to see the manufacturing facility. And I want a specific salary figure before I commit." Kira leaned back against the wall. "I'll tell you everything I know about Garret's operations. But if I'm going to defect, I want guarantees that it's worth the risk."
Kael smiled coldly. "That can be arranged."
Subject One - The Soldier
The lead scout, a veteran named Corwin who had fought in three wars before joining Garret's organization, proved predictably stubborn. Even after learning his companions had cooperated, even after Argus demonstrated the futility of silence through physiological analysis that revealed truths despite words, Corwin maintained his professional silence.
"I won't betray my employer," he said when Kael finally visited his cell. "You can threaten, you can torture, you can kill me. I'll take Garret's secrets to whatever afterlife awaits."
"Admirable," Kael said, and meant it. "But ultimately pointless. Your companions have already told me everything you know and more. The only question now is what happens to you."
"Then I suppose I'll die here."
"Perhaps." Kael studied the man who had successfully resisted interrogation through sheer disciplined will. "But I'm curious about something, Corwin. You're loyal to Garret Duskthorn, a man who betrayed his closest friend and has spent thirteen years looting a fallen kingdom. What exactly inspires such devotion?"
For the first time, emotion crossed Corwin's weathered face. "He saved my life. After the Third Border War, when nobody else would hire crippled veterans, Garret found me in a gutter drinking myself to death. He gave me purpose, employment, a reason to keep living. Whatever else he's done, I owe him for that."
"So it's debt rather than loyalty to the cause."
"Debt is stronger than loyalty. Loyalty is conditional, dependent on continued alignment of interests. Debt is absolute. He saved me, so I serve him. Simple as that."
Kael understood that reasoning better than Corwin could know. He had sworn oaths to companions who then betrayed them. He had learned the hard way that loyalty was indeed conditional. But debt, especially life debt, transcended ordinary obligation.
"I can respect that," Kael said quietly. "So I'll make you an offer, Corwin. Remain in comfortable captivity until this conflict ends. You'll be treated with honor, given no opportunities to escape or communicate with Garret, but not harmed or coerced. When it's over, if Garret somehow survives, you'll be released to return to his service. If he dies, you'll be freed with compensation for your time and can seek employment elsewhere. Either way, your honor remains intact and your debt honored through silence."
Corwin studied him suspiciously. "Why offer mercy?"
"Because I understand the value of men who honor their debts even when it costs them. Because I might want to hire you someday, and demonstrating I treat prisoners with dignity makes that negotiation easier. And because honestly, you're more useful as an example of principled resistance than as another broken witness. Your companions will wonder why you were treated well despite refusing to cooperate. It will complicate their thinking, make them question their own choices." Kael smiled without warmth. "Mercy can be a weapon too, Corwin."
The veteran considered this, recognizing manipulation but unable to argue with the practical benefits. "Your word as king that I'll be treated honorably?"
"My word as king."
"Then I accept your offer."