ma’am?”
Normally
Kade deferred to Azak as thoroughly as any Zarkian woman would. This time she
met his mocking gaze with a royal confidence of her own. On muleback, she was
almost at his eye level, which no doubt helped, and perhaps she no longer
wished to play the Mistress Phattas role, for there was no deference in her
ice-blue eyes as she replied. “Because I am convinced we have made a
terrible error, your Majesty.”
He
flushed. “I trust that you are mistaken! “
“I
hope I am. I pray that I may live to apologize.”
Azak’s
red eyes flashed anger, and he turned away, yanking his mule’s reins.
6
Someone
slapped Rap’s face to get his attention. He was still bound, crammed in
on top of some angular sacks and under a bench. He could not feel his feet at
all, and his hands were only more anonymous lumps twisted underneath him. Day
and night were a blur, as if he had been lying there for weeks, unwanted
baggage on Blood Wave. Even in the taiga, he had never felt so cold. His head
throbbed from the effects of the blow that had felled him as he boarded,
although he had detected the ambush in time to dodge and avoid some of the
impact. Gathmor had not been so lucky, and he remained an inanimate bundle
jammed in beside Rap.
The
storm roared unabated. Kalkor had set sail into the middle of it, with brazen
insanity, and Blood Wave had been whirling around like a feather ever
since-standing on her bow or her stern or her beam ends, never still. She
groaned and creaked under the battering, but an orca ship was as near to indestructible
as a jotunn raider himself. Even in the dark, Rap had been able to see the
waves, and from his low vantage they had been green mountains, taller than the
mast. They were still coming.
“Water!”
he croaked. The only water he had tasted had been the rain on his face mingled
with the salt spray that drenched him and everything else aboard every few
minutes.
Then
he recognized the hairy giant kneeling over him. “What’s it worth,
Stupid?” His sibilant growl was familiar, too. That voice came with the
nightmares.
“Water!”
Darad
thumped a fist on Rap’s right eye. Cold and numb as he was, the pain was
unexpectedly overwhelming. For a moment it blocked out the whole world,
crushing, deadening, nauseating. Lights blazed around in his head.
When
his mind cleared a little, the jotunn was grinning his wolf grin, the big
canines emphasized by the missing front teeth, top and bottom. “Andor
told you he’d find a way to get you off that stupid little tub. Well, we
did, didn’t we? I did!”
“Friend
of yours, is he?” Rap croaked. “Kalkor an old friend? “
Darad
nodded, leering. He was ugly as a troll, and almost as big. With any other of
the sequential five it was possible to argue, but Darad was too witless to be
distracted.
“And
he was willing to do me a favor!”
“How’d
you meet up with him?”
“Luck,
Stupid. Just luck. My word makes me lucky, see? Yours doesn’t! You’re
mine now, faun. A gift from Kalkor! You’re going to tell me your word. “
“I
don’t know-” The other eye was thumped now, harder. Oh, Gods! That
was worse.
“Thinal
thinks you do. That’s good enough for me. “ Darad raised a thick
finger and stroked his goblin tattoos. “You’ll talk.”
Rap
had recognized Darad among the raiders. That was the main reason he had rushed
forward like a maniac to denounce Kalkor-he had known then why the jotnar had
come to Durthing. But some of his madness had been the remains of his own
killer anger. Without that he might just have run away, and he would have
escaped, unless he had lingered to help the women and children. He had been
within seconds of beating Ogi; now he was getting what he deserved for losing
his temper.
And
for being so stupid! He had known that Darad would always be a danger-Darad and
Andor and the rest of the fivebut he had thought he could shelter in Durthing,
guarded by a few hundred jotnar. Had he used the
Normally
Kade deferred to Azak as thoroughly as any Zarkian woman would. This time she
met his mocking gaze with a royal confidence of her own. On muleback, she was
almost at his eye level, which no doubt helped, and perhaps she no longer
wished to play the Mistress Phattas role, for there was no deference in her
ice-blue eyes as she replied. “Because I am convinced we have made a
terrible error, your Majesty.”
He
flushed. “I trust that you are mistaken! “
“I
hope I am. I pray that I may live to apologize.”
Azak’s
red eyes flashed anger, and he turned away, yanking his mule’s reins.
6
Someone
slapped Rap’s face to get his attention. He was still bound, crammed in
on top of some angular sacks and under a bench. He could not feel his feet at
all, and his hands were only more anonymous lumps twisted underneath him. Day
and night were a blur, as if he had been lying there for weeks, unwanted
baggage on Blood Wave. Even in the taiga, he had never felt so cold. His head
throbbed from the effects of the blow that had felled him as he boarded,
although he had detected the ambush in time to dodge and avoid some of the
impact. Gathmor had not been so lucky, and he remained an inanimate bundle
jammed in beside Rap.
The
storm roared unabated. Kalkor had set sail into the middle of it, with brazen
insanity, and Blood Wave had been whirling around like a feather ever
since-standing on her bow or her stern or her beam ends, never still. She
groaned and creaked under the battering, but an orca ship was as near to indestructible
as a jotunn raider himself. Even in the dark, Rap had been able to see the
waves, and from his low vantage they had been green mountains, taller than the
mast. They were still coming.
“Water!”
he croaked. The only water he had tasted had been the rain on his face mingled
with the salt spray that drenched him and everything else aboard every few
minutes.
Then
he recognized the hairy giant kneeling over him. “What’s it worth,
Stupid?” His sibilant growl was familiar, too. That voice came with the
nightmares.
“Water!”
Darad
thumped a fist on Rap’s right eye. Cold and numb as he was, the pain was
unexpectedly overwhelming. For a moment it blocked out the whole world,
crushing, deadening, nauseating. Lights blazed around in his head.
When
his mind cleared a little, the jotunn was grinning his wolf grin, the big
canines emphasized by the missing front teeth, top and bottom. “Andor
told you he’d find a way to get you off that stupid little tub. Well, we
did, didn’t we? I did!”
“Friend
of yours, is he?” Rap croaked. “Kalkor an old friend? “
Darad
nodded, leering. He was ugly as a troll, and almost as big. With any other of
the sequential five it was possible to argue, but Darad was too witless to be
distracted.
“And
he was willing to do me a favor!”
“How’d
you meet up with him?”
“Luck,
Stupid. Just luck. My word makes me lucky, see? Yours doesn’t! You’re
mine now, faun. A gift from Kalkor! You’re going to tell me your word. “
“I
don’t know-” The other eye was thumped now, harder. Oh, Gods! That
was worse.
“Thinal
thinks you do. That’s good enough for me. “ Darad raised a thick
finger and stroked his goblin tattoos. “You’ll talk.”
Rap
had recognized Darad among the raiders. That was the main reason he had rushed
forward like a maniac to denounce Kalkor-he had known then why the jotnar had
come to Durthing. But some of his madness had been the remains of his own
killer anger. Without that he might just have run away, and he would have
escaped, unless he had lingered to help the women and children. He had been
within seconds of beating Ogi; now he was getting what he deserved for losing
his temper.
And
for being so stupid! He had known that Darad would always be a danger-Darad and
Andor and the rest of the fivebut he had thought he could shelter in Durthing,
guarded by a few hundred jotnar. Had he used the
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