The Draught of Truth
Story by Marcus Mooney on SoFurry
Hi, everyone! It’s me again with another chapter of Wulfein. Like I said before, I’m just feeling this story out at a casual pace while I do other things. Hope you enjoy.
Runil stared down into the heated cauldron, noting that only a small puddle of silvery liquid remained. There was only a little bit of the Draught of Truth left before the dust that had settled at the bottom made it unusable. Runil had a vial ready, but he found himself hesitating. It wasn’t that fact that he had moved most of his alchemy supplies down to the dungeon to interrogate the guards; he could work in almost any environment. No, something else had plagued his mind.
Could King Atreyu really be a fake?
He knew he shouldn’t believe a word Rencor said, but something had rung true through that psychic bond. If the King and the hyena did have history, that couldn’t mean anything good for the kingdom. Furthermore, it meant that his lover had been lying to him for years.
Runil continued to stare at the potion in contemplation. It was wrong. He knew it. But he couldn’t bring himself to ask Atreyu himself. It was easier this way…
“Runil! What in Lupir’s name is taking you so long?” Korthgar’s voice rang through the corridors. “Have you got the potion?”
“Yes, Korthgar! Only a moment!” Runil reached down and carefully filled the vial to the halfway point and corked it. Making sure his superior hadn’t come to check on him, he slipped the vial into his robes. He then took another one, filled it, and hurried through the dungeon to where King Atreyu, Baeril, and Korthgar waited.
“This is the last of the potion,” he announced, handing the vial to Korthgar. In an effort to avoid the King’s eyes, he sat in a chair and studied the guard who had been locked within a nearby cell. He was a burly red wolf clad in plate, having been called from duty to be interrogated. His helm sat on the ground next to him. “Are there any more guards?”
“No, this is our final suspect.” Korthgar surveyed the contents of the vial, swirling the liquid around. “Perhaps we will soon know who allowed that warlock to escape.”
“I saw nothing, I swear it!” The guard protested, gripping the bars firmly. “I was only on watch for the late hours of the night!”
“If you are not our culprit, then you have nothing to hide,” said Baeril, standing with his arms crossed in his usual gruff fashion. “If you are…”
“Do not jump to conclusions, Baeril. Let the potion do its work,” Atreyu scolded, though everyone was starting to get anxious. This was the only guard left employed in the castle. If their own sentries were responsible for Rencor’s escape, they would soon find out.
“Open your mouth,” ordered Korthgar. The guard obeyed, and he carefully poured the vial into the guard’s open maw. The guard grimaced at the taste but obediently swallowed. The potion would work almost instantly, so they could begin.
Korthgar began with a question he had asked countless times by now. “What is your full name?”
“Gallad Amadeus Hyde,” the guard stated. He blinked in confusion as the potion took effect. Runil, having tested the effects of the potion himself, knew the disorientation of losing control of his own voice.
“Did you help the warlock escape?”
“No.”
There was that cleared up.
“And can you recall when you were on watch the night before the warlock escaped?”
“I was on watch from late nightfall to early in the morning, when it was still dark,” Gallad replied, his tone speaking his sincerity.
“Do you remember seeing anything strange that night?” Korthgar pressed.
“No.” The guard shook his head. “Nothing odd that I recall. I –”
“Rubbish!” Baeril interjected. “How can none of the guards have seen anything? Did we train pups for guards?”
“That’s enough, Baeril!” Atreyu snapped. “Let him speak.”
Baeril huffed and resumed his brooding by the door.
“I only remember the Mage coming down to talk to the warlock,” Gallad protested. “That is all, I swear!”
“Relax, you are not in trouble,” Korthgar assured him, though he did send Runil a questioning glance. “I only need to ask you a couple more questions.”
“I don’t know how he escaped,” said Gallad, his ears going down in regret. “Maybe if I went over and checked on him…”
“He was still in his cell that morning. You can’t have been responsible,” said Korthgar. “Did you hear what the Mage said while he was there?”
“Not a word,” replied Gallad, glancing briefly at Runil at the table. “But I do remember hearing raised voices at times. It sounded like they were arguing about something. When the Mage left, the warlock yelled ‘he is always watching.’ I’m not sure what that means.”
Runil’s breath hitched in his chest. This certainly didn’t look good for him.
“I see.” Korthgar fell silent as he thought some more. Then finally he asked, “Did the Mage seem agitated or upset when he left?”
“Yes, very much so,” Gallad nodded. “He left in a hurry, like he was trying to get away from the warlock.”
Korthgar nodded. “Thank you, Gallad. You can go.” He took a set of keys and unlocked the cell.
The guard gave a nod of respect, gripped his helm, and left.
Korthgar immediately turned to Runil. “What were you doing down there that late, Runil?”
The fox’s heart raced. “I only wanted to try and interrogate Rencor!” He protested. “I wouldn’t let him escape!”
“Since when were you two on first-name terms, Runil?” Baeril piped up, his piercing glare now directed at the fox. “It is suspicious that you might go in the dead of night to speak to a prisoner.”
“It wasn’t me, I swear!” Runil insisted, putting a paw over his chest. “I am loyal to the King, and him only.”
“Gentlemen, think about this!” Atreyu stepped in. “This is the castle’s Mage we are talking about, someone who has been helping protect this city and provide magical remedies for over a decade! Do you honestly think that he would change his loyalties in the blink of an eye?”
Korthgar relented. “You are right. Forgive me, I got carried away.”
“I am not convinced,” said Baeril, still glowering at Runil. “Anyone can simply change their mind, and it is strange that Runil would wait until the castle is asleep before talking to the one responsible for our former King’s death. How do we know for sure that our Mage is completely loyal?”
There was a pause as everyone contemplated the situation, and Runil wanted nothing more than to step into a portal and be far away from here.
“I suppose I can try to imitate the effects of the Draught of Truth with a few ingredients,” Korthgar suggested. “There are a few raw materials that when combined, will make him speak the truth for a very short while. Very strong without the dilution of the potion, but only for a minute or so.”
“And there is none of the potion left?” Baeril asked. The vial felt heavy inside the pocket of Runil’s robes. “How long will it take to gather these materials?”
“I believe we still have some in our stores.” Korthgar stood. “I will grab them and be back in a few minutes.”
“Then it is decided. Make haste. And you,” Baeril snapped, pointing at Runil. “Get in the cell. No sudden movements.”
Runil splayed his ears and obeyed, stepping into the cell and hearing the bars lock behind him. Korthgar left, and Baeril stood rooted to the spot, not letting the fox out of his sight. Atreyu appeared conflicted. He watched Runil, seemingly wanting to comfort him but hesitating to do so. The mistrust was disheartening to see.
And now Runil was about to be forced to divulge any truth they demanded. They couldn’t know of his connection to Rencor. The exposure might kill him.
Was this what Rencor wanted?