Part 57 (1/2)
43.
Hag's Teeth TALEN PULLED OUT his knife, knowing the fat lot of good it would do him against that monster, and stood to protect the others.
But the monster didn't rush in; a group of dreadmen did instead. They came in with torches and swords. Two spotted him and the others and charged forward. The rest raced silently into the pa.s.sageway. Before Talen could drop his knife, the two dreadmen were upon them. The one held his sword tip inches from Talen's chest.
Such speed-it took Talen's breath away. These dreadmen were tattooed with the markings of the Lions of Mokad, the Skir Master's personal guard. The one holding his sword in front of Talen looked like he would kill at the slightest provocation. A tattoo flared away from one his eyes. The other eye was puffed, the skin horribly burned.
”On your bellies,” whispered the dreadman.
Talen offered no resistance. He dropped to his knees, then prostrated himself, turning his head so that one cheek was flat against the earth. Sugar did the same. Legs slid off the side of the horse and dropped to the ground right next to the horse's legs.
Talen looked up at the dreadman. The torch in the dreadman's hand spit. One small burning droplet of pitch struck Talen's neck, but he dared not brush it away. The Tailor was not comfortable with the fire or the men. He protested and backed up, almost stepping on Legs, and banged into the stall.
Two more men walked into the chamber, a smaller one followed by a larger. The smaller man had short white hair and bushy eyebrows. He stood proudly erect. His clothes were made of sumptuous cloth. The eyes drew Talen's attention; they were black and s.h.i.+ny as polish jet.
Talen had seen only two Divines in his life. This one filled him with dread. Talen couldn't see the face of the larger man, but it was clear he was the Skir Master's servant.
”Master,” the large one said. ”Do you see? I'll make up for my sins.”
Talen looked on in disbelief. He recognized that voice. ”Uncle?” he asked.
Uncle Argoth turned and glanced at Talen, and then a Fir-Noy entered the cave. It was the Crab, the territory lord. Talen should have known the Fir-Noy would be behind this.
The Crab looked around at the chamber. ”Well, well. Even I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it.”
The dreadmen who had moved deeper into the refuge returned to the first chamber. Talen counted six of them besides the two watching him, Sugar, and Legs.
”There's n.o.body here,” their lead reported.
”No one?” demanded the Skir Master. He turned to Uncle Argoth. ”Clansman? Is there another place you haven't told me about?”
Uncle Argoth groveled before the Skir Master. ”No, no. The stone was pushed aside. Either they've come and gone, or they've gone and will return.”
What had happened to Uncle Argoth? He was so obsequious he didn't even seem the same man.
”There was a hearth in the first chamber,” the lead dreadman said. ”The coals were still warm.”
”Then they're here,” said Uncle Argoth.
The Skir Master turned and looked at Talen. ”Who are these three?”
The dreadman kicked Talen in the side so hard it took his breath away. ”Answer!”
”I am the son of Hogan the Koramite,” Talen croaked. ”The horse of blood hill. These are the children of Sparrow, smith of the village of Plum.”
The Skir Master made a small noise to himself and walked over to look down upon Talen.
”He speaks the truth,” said Uncle Argoth.
The Skir Master considered Talen as if he were judging a poorly fired pot. ”Was your father here?”
”No,” said Talen. ”Not that I know of.”
”Do not seek to deceive me,” said the Skir Master. ”I already know that he, like this girl's witch mother, was s.n.a.t.c.hed from those set to guard him. Tell me where the others are.”
The Skir Master's pants were scorched. His feet bare. And there stood Uncle Argoth next to him. Was he a traitor, or was this some ruse and the real Argoth would suddenly rise up and slay these men? ”I do not know, Great One.”
”Cut out his eye,” said the Crab.
The dreadman with the burned eye looked to the Skir Master.
”Please,” said Talen. ”We came and the cave was empty. Our guide disappeared while we were in the other chamber. I think the monster took her as well.”
”It's as I told you, Great One,” Uncle Argoth said. ”The creature is not ours. Something else is afoot.”
”Maybe not yours,” said the Skir Master. ”But you're only one man. How do you know the two Koramites, whom you trust so much, are not part of another murder of sleth?”
The Skir Master motioned at Talen, and one of the dreadman guarding him wrenched Talen up by his hair and held him in a lock with his arms and legs so Talen couldn't move.
”I swear,” said Talen. ”I'm telling the truth.”
The dreadman with the burned eye drew his knife and brought it close, the tang of his body odor filling Talen's nostrils. ”Hold still,” he said, ”or you'll lose more than an eye.”
”I can show you the footprint!” cried Talen. ”The monster was here.”
The dreadman changed his grip on knife and readied it to plunge into Talen's eye.
”Stop,” said the Skir Master.
Talen stared up at the thin point of the blade.
”Tell me everything you know.”
Where would he start? With his mother? With the fact that he was some soul-eater's artifact? Or should he simply blurt out that his family were all soul-eaters? And then there was Uncle Argoth-was he playing some ruse or had he been subverted? Tell the truth or fabricate a story, either might conflict with what Uncle Argoth had already told the Divine. He decided it would be best to interpret ”everything” to mean only what he knew about the monster.
”He's going to lie,” said the dreadman.
”Then give him a bit of motivation,” said the Skir Master.
”No,” said Talen.
But the dreadman brought the knife down. His face with its burned eye was terrible to behold. Talen tried to squirm away, but the man's grip was like stone. Talen closed his eyes at the last moment and felt the burn as the blade sliced open the skin on his cheek below his eye.
”I saw it first at our farm,” said Talen.
But the dreadman kept cutting. Blood ran down the side of Talen's face and dripped in his ear.