said.
“Yes, but I am concerned why Huk went out his way to tell us about them,” Siyer said. “He has something planned he wants witnessed.”
Later, after the rest of the caravan had arrived, the four Abanshi were locked in the lowest level of the fortress, but they were not tortured. Instead, attendants bandaged their wounds and fed them generous portions of tolerable food. Clean clothes replaced their tattered clothing.
Quintel and Siyer were not allowed to see them. After Huk returned, they were locked in their cell and forbidden to speak to anyone, including the guards. For days, Huk sent a maid for his elixir.
At last, they were escorted to Huk's chamber. The corridors of the fortress seemed strangely empty.
“In five nights, we will hold a celebration in honor of my return,” Huk explained to them. “You and your apprentice will serve the wine throughout the evening. I would hate to waste this opportunity to display all my trophies.”
For the rest of the week, generals and landowners under Huk's rule arrived and encamped around the fortress walls. Colorful banners and tents of blue, violet and red, blossomed in the open brown fields and green forest surrounding the fortress. Representatives from a hundred villages clambered about the courtyards and castle halls clad in dress armor and dazzling robes. The once solemn corridors swam in the patterns and flags of people from all over the Forestlands.
All of them came to learn what the god had told Huk.
Chapter 10
The banquet was held in the columned room where Quintel first met the warlord. A great table stacked high with beef, fowl and other foods repeated the circular shape of the room. Guests lined the outside of the table leaving the center open for entertainment. Grand tapestries embroidered with the respective colors of each sect hung from the columns and ceilings. A cluster of musicians blew pipes, plucked harps and hammered drums. Great fireplaces roared, providing ample light and heat. Huk's throne sat empty. The warlord was nowhere in sight.
Siyer and Quintel, bound in gold shackles, served wine and bread to the hostile guests, who took several opportunities to douse them with insults and spittle. As the night grew older and the wine drained, the taunting increased in frequency and intensity.
“Fill my cup to the brim, Abanshi excrement, or I'll cut off your head and piss down the stump,” barked Underlord Taln, of the northern district. Taln’s reputation was well known. He had fought the Abanshi in three campaigns and trailed thirty battles behind his name. He hated every child born from Western stock and would have killed all of them himself given the chance. Quintel drew much of his attention throughout the evening.
Pouring from the large clay pitcher without a tremor, Quintel responded to Taln's requests with haste, showing no reaction to his insults. When the glass was full he moved down the line, not dwelling in the underlord's sight for too long.
As the evening continued, a number of guests began to raise questions about Huk. Their host had not yet shown himself. Where was he and when would they hear the god's message?
The inquiries were contagious and soon all the separate conversations melted together to raise a chant among the guests.
“Huk! Huk! Huk!”
After a few moments, a servant entered from behind one of the tapestries hung between the great columns surrounding the room.
“Binder of the Forestlands, Hand of Sirian Ru, Enemy of the West,” the servant bellowed. “Warlord Huk!”
The tapestries parted and Huk's procession entered. The musicians broke into an inspiring march of pipes and drums. Eight maidens, dressed in silk robes adorned with prismatic jewels, led the decorative parade of servants into the room. Behind them, a dozen warriors in sparkling dress mail followed with measured steps.
Then came Huk. Upon his litter, he occupied a large oaken chair. A gold helmet rested on his head. His silver mail
“Yes, but I am concerned why Huk went out his way to tell us about them,” Siyer said. “He has something planned he wants witnessed.”
Later, after the rest of the caravan had arrived, the four Abanshi were locked in the lowest level of the fortress, but they were not tortured. Instead, attendants bandaged their wounds and fed them generous portions of tolerable food. Clean clothes replaced their tattered clothing.
Quintel and Siyer were not allowed to see them. After Huk returned, they were locked in their cell and forbidden to speak to anyone, including the guards. For days, Huk sent a maid for his elixir.
At last, they were escorted to Huk's chamber. The corridors of the fortress seemed strangely empty.
“In five nights, we will hold a celebration in honor of my return,” Huk explained to them. “You and your apprentice will serve the wine throughout the evening. I would hate to waste this opportunity to display all my trophies.”
For the rest of the week, generals and landowners under Huk's rule arrived and encamped around the fortress walls. Colorful banners and tents of blue, violet and red, blossomed in the open brown fields and green forest surrounding the fortress. Representatives from a hundred villages clambered about the courtyards and castle halls clad in dress armor and dazzling robes. The once solemn corridors swam in the patterns and flags of people from all over the Forestlands.
All of them came to learn what the god had told Huk.
Chapter 10
The banquet was held in the columned room where Quintel first met the warlord. A great table stacked high with beef, fowl and other foods repeated the circular shape of the room. Guests lined the outside of the table leaving the center open for entertainment. Grand tapestries embroidered with the respective colors of each sect hung from the columns and ceilings. A cluster of musicians blew pipes, plucked harps and hammered drums. Great fireplaces roared, providing ample light and heat. Huk's throne sat empty. The warlord was nowhere in sight.
Siyer and Quintel, bound in gold shackles, served wine and bread to the hostile guests, who took several opportunities to douse them with insults and spittle. As the night grew older and the wine drained, the taunting increased in frequency and intensity.
“Fill my cup to the brim, Abanshi excrement, or I'll cut off your head and piss down the stump,” barked Underlord Taln, of the northern district. Taln’s reputation was well known. He had fought the Abanshi in three campaigns and trailed thirty battles behind his name. He hated every child born from Western stock and would have killed all of them himself given the chance. Quintel drew much of his attention throughout the evening.
Pouring from the large clay pitcher without a tremor, Quintel responded to Taln's requests with haste, showing no reaction to his insults. When the glass was full he moved down the line, not dwelling in the underlord's sight for too long.
As the evening continued, a number of guests began to raise questions about Huk. Their host had not yet shown himself. Where was he and when would they hear the god's message?
The inquiries were contagious and soon all the separate conversations melted together to raise a chant among the guests.
“Huk! Huk! Huk!”
After a few moments, a servant entered from behind one of the tapestries hung between the great columns surrounding the room.
“Binder of the Forestlands, Hand of Sirian Ru, Enemy of the West,” the servant bellowed. “Warlord Huk!”
The tapestries parted and Huk's procession entered. The musicians broke into an inspiring march of pipes and drums. Eight maidens, dressed in silk robes adorned with prismatic jewels, led the decorative parade of servants into the room. Behind them, a dozen warriors in sparkling dress mail followed with measured steps.
Then came Huk. Upon his litter, he occupied a large oaken chair. A gold helmet rested on his head. His silver mail
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