Dragon Traders (4 page)

Katsu nodded wordlessly, tight-lipped.

Eddie hesitated, then made a decision. "Ashe thinks you're using him for sex. I think he's wrong."

Confusion crossed Katsu's features, followed by swift comprehension and vague annoyance. "I wouldn't let him stick around if I -- this isn't the time. Get out of here and get back."

Eddie nodded, spun her horse, and took off as fast as she could through the crowded city.

***

Ashe didn't know how long he'd been there. Long enough for the drug to wear off. Long enough for his ankles and wrists, bound tightly behind his back, to chafe. At first he'd heard voices, but whether they were real or drug-induced he wasn't sure. Now there was only silence.

He lay on his side on a metal slab, downward shoulder aching. Wriggling around earlier had brought bars into view with a heavy cloth drape outside them. Faint light trickled under the bottom edge of the drape, but no amount of prodding had done anything, and he couldn't get the leverage needed to pull.

He flexed his fingers, trying to keep blood flowing into them as they began to go numb. He'd shouted earlier, but the gag was too well done. Any noise he made was muffled into a blunted yell, and the effort only winded him -- dangerous, when he couldn't gulp air. He'd spent several fuzzy minutes sucking air through his nose, which was half blocked by the folds of the gag.

It was impossible to sleep, though given low light levels and the overall quiet Ashe figured night had fallen. He counted hours. Twelve hours of lazy riding over two days to get here. They could have made it in eight hours. Eight hours to get back to the others after Katsu and Eddie realized something was wrong. An hour to mobilize and another eight for the best riders to get to the city. Seventeen hours before rescue arrived, and that assuming Katsu and Eddie had left right away.

So say twenty or more, before they'd realize something was wrong, before they'd return for a rescue. He had no idea how many hours had already passed. The whole day, he was relatively certain. Surely it wouldn't be so dark or quiet if people were awake.

They'd arrived in the city around lunchtime. It had likely been mid-afternoon before Katsu and Eddie went for help. Ashe's heart sank. They'd be lucky to return by noon -- and surely Byron's caravan would leave before then.

Ashe tried to convince himself they could find him on the road. That his friends would somehow know he was still with Byron, not dead in an alley somewhere, and would effect an escape. He couldn't keep his heart from sinking, though. It just wasn't likely. Caravan guards would stop them, even if they didn't spend too much time looking for him in the city and set out right away. Nate wouldn't allow the whole crew to be slaughtered rescuing him, and that's what it would come down to. Byron could always claim they were bandits who'd attacked; the law was on his side. Even if they proved Ashe was being held against his will, they'd have to do it before the caravan crossed over the border into Diwegol. Slavery was legal, with certain provisions, across all the provinces, but in lands where dwarves were far more common than elves, and no love was lost between those races, they wouldn't side with Ashe instead of a wealthy merchant -- despite suspicious circumstances.

The thought made Ashe renew his struggles. He
hated
riding this close to the border. He
especially
hated being tied up and kidnapped.

Fear stirred in his chest, though he'd managed to fight it down earlier. He strained at his bonds, even pouring magic into his skin to protect it from rope, then into his muscles to add strength. All the strength in the world wasn't enough to snap his ties, though. Ashe bellowed into his gag, mostly out of sheer frustration, and heard an animal growl in response not too far away.

He lay still for a moment, catching his breath. The gag reeked of sweat not his own, and was gritty against his tongue. He'd tried pushing the ball of cloth out of his mouth, but it was held in place by the material wrapped around his face. He'd tried rubbing that off, but only ended up rubbing his cheek raw.

Ashe yelled again, kicking both feet against the bars of his cage. It got no response except the hammering of his heart, the rustling of other animals, and more silence.

He sagged in his cage, defeated, sucking in air through his nose. It whistled past the gag. Sweat dampened his brow and under his arms. Fear made it potent.

If Eddie and Katsu were going to mount a rescue on their own, it would be happening now, under cover of dark. He didn't know how two people would break into somewhere so heavily guarded, find him, break him out, and escape with no one the wiser. Better to go get Nate. A force of mercenaries might be able to stop a caravan awkwardly leaving a city. They could create distractions so one person could break in and get to Ashe. They could overpower the guards, send up an alarm, call in the militia.

A group of mercenaries could do all
sorts
of things. Assuming they got here in time.

Ashe really didn't want to be a slave. Some rich man's exotic servant, as he guessed would be the case in lands without elves. Even worse, he'd heard that there were lands without magic, where creatures half human and half demon ruled and anyone unlike them was enslaved or killed. He
really
didn't want to go there.

He twisted his wrists again, yanking at the ropes until he felt blood sliding down his hands. It was no use; the rope was too tight. Ashe lay limp against the cage floor, pressing his face against the cool metal. The world was spinning again, though he couldn't say if it was from drugs or a lack of air or good, old-fashioned fear.

They had to come for him soon.

***

It came as some surprise to Ashe to realize he'd dozed off. He woke with a lurch at the sound of voices. Footsteps. A door opening and closing, the speakers suddenly louder.

Ashe yelled and kicked the bars of his cage again, setting up a racket made louder when the animals nearby started protesting as well.

The curtain hanging over his cage whipped away, and he blinked painfully in the sudden light. "Shut up," one of the guards-cum-servants snapped, and banged Ashe's cage with a staff, setting up a ringing that hummed right through Ashe's bones.

Ashe yelled again, kicking back. The servant knelt, moving with an unexpected swiftness. One hand clamped painfully on Ashe's ankles, yanking him closer. The other reached between the bars and grabbed his tunic, dragging him over and slamming him against the side of the cage. Leaning close, the servant practically whispered. "It is too early for this sort of ruckus. Behave yourself."

His breath reeked of stale beer and onions. Ashe pulled away uselessly, a slow ache building where he'd been slammed against the metal. The guard let him go and stood, picking up his dropped staff and walking away.

There were no windows in the room, but with the cloth removed he could see planes of glass set in the ceiling. Light filtered through; it was
very
early morning.

Ashe's heart sank. There was no way his crew could arrive so soon, and from the number of guards coming through the door and hauling cages and crates out, it wouldn't be long before the caravan left.

Surely, though, all of these guards and porters couldn't be comfortable kidnapping people. Ashe set up another ruckus, trying to get any attention he could. It came to an end, though, when one porter leaned toward another, both of them watching him, and single word was murmured.

"Thief."

Gagged, Ashe couldn't argue, and his vehement head shake met only disdain.

The sky above the glass panels was only slightly brighter by the time the last half dozen cages were carted out. The goods had gone first, the animals second. Only a few items were left; Ashe himself, the griffon, a flight of brightly colored creatures too small and quick to easily name. The dragon eggs were being carefully re-packed into a crate stuffed with straw. That was the first time Ashe saw Byron again, entering to make sure the eggs were cared for properly. Ashe yelled some more, and hoped they couldn't hear his desperation behind his gag.

Byron glanced at him once, then paid him no more heed.

Two men came in, lifting the delicate cage full of quick little creatures and carrying it with extreme care out the door, leaving only the griffon, the eggs, and Ashe.

And no sign of a rescue. The sky above the glass was still a raw pink. Too early for any chance that the mercenaries would arrive. Byron's caravan would have hours on them, guards already settled into place, creating a traveling fortress. If they hadn't crossed the border by the time the mercenaries caught up, they wouldn't be far from it. There would be no rescue if it didn't happen soon.

Ashe yanked at his ties again, half frantic. Rope rubbed his flesh painfully, tore it, and swelled as it absorbed his blood. He dislocated both thumbs trying to pull his hands free, but the widening of even his willowy palms was too much. The binds were too tight.

"I don't want him scarred," Byron said, sounding irritated. Ashe looked up to see one of the guards give him a frustrated look, then leave the room. Ashe glared at Byron, filling the look with as much hate as he could, and kept yanking at his hands. He poured magic into them, dulling pain receptors, strengthening muscles.

The guard walked back in, dabbing liquid from a deep brown bottle onto a scrap of cloth. He moved purposefully for Ashe's cage.

Ashe paused, taking in the sight, the intention. Then he renewed his efforts, twisting to fling himself into the center of the cage so they couldn't just grab him. They'd have to open it. He'd have a chance -- he had to make a chance, because if they drugged him again he'd never be able to escape.

The guard opened the cage. Ashe still didn't have his hands free, wasn't even close. He kicked out, giving a muffled yelp when the guard stomped down on his ankles to pin them in place. The guard bent, grabbed him by the hair, and hauled him partially upright.

Ashe poured more magic into his blood, not sure what he could do with it but knowing he had to do
something
. He struggled, though it was almost useless. The guard clamped the cloth over his nose. Ashe held his breath. He tried to wrench his face away, but held up by a hand in the braids at the back of his skull, he couldn't twist far. He couldn't do much of anything; even his legs were still pinned down by a boot on his ankles. The cloth went with him, no matter how much effort he put into turning his head.

Magic pulsed through him again, a temporary substitute for air as his lungs started to burn. His eyes watered, and as the magic lost some of its potency, agony slid in beside it. His lungs contracted. Against his will Ashe gasped, choked on the gag, and dragged a breath through his nose.

Chemicals set him to coughing, painfully when the air couldn't expel past the cloth ball in his mouth. The world swam for more reasons than drugs, and every ragged inhalation sent him into more abortive hacking.

He couldn't get enough air. The magic bled away. The world spun and went fuzzy, narrowed down to the effort to breathe. Pain lanced through him even as he realized the damp cloth was no longer over his nose. His lungs calmed. The coughing fit eased and went away. The whole world floated, far away, too distant to reach, somewhere with the fear that still lurked.

Emotions came back slowly, as did awareness. His cage was closed and locked. They'd taken the griffon. The lid to the dragon egg crate was being tapped on carefully, four men standing nearby to carry it off. He blinked, and came back to the world to see the curtain back on his cage, to feel movement.

Fear stabbed through the drug haze. He tried to call out for help, and heard only the faintest whimper before his eyes closed again.

Then they were moving.

***

"What do you mean, he's gone?"

Eddie watched the tavern keeper rear away from Nate and almost felt sorry for the man. She wouldn't want to be faced with Nate, the entire towering hulk of him with his scowling visage, the salt and pepper beard ghosting over coal-dark skin. He was scary when he
had
gotten a good nights' sleep and
wasn't
worried about a member of his crew. Right now he looked more like a furious demigod than a man.

The tavern keeper spread his hands harmlessly. "He left this morning, at first light. Asked me for a list of physikers and herbalists before he went. I can make you the same list."

"Do so," Nate growled. The tavern keeper backed off far enough to doubtlessly think he was out of range, then glared at Nate and marched away to get writing utensils. Nate turned to Eddie, his anger leashed. "Go to the stables. Find out what he took and what he left. I'll meet you there."

She nodded, dragging herself off the stool she'd occupied and heading out the door. Exhaustion pulled at her, even the adrenaline that had kept her going all night not doing much anymore.

The ride to the mercenaries had been long and brutal. Dark had fallen before she'd gotten back. She'd napped while Nate put together a raiding party, though it'd given her only twenty minutes of sleep. Eddie and Nate were part of a group of ten that rode ahead of the others, leaving the rest to pack up camp and follow as soon as they could. Their group had spent the night in the saddle, moving as quickly as possible to beat the dawn.

They hadn't beaten the dawn, though they'd made better time than Eddie would have guessed. Not that it did them much good; the caravan had left hours ago, and now Katsu was missing, too.

At the stable Eddie found the packhorse and Ashe's belongings, but no sign of Katsu's mount. The stable master, a heavyset woman with strong hands, put up a fuss when Eddie went to take what was theirs.

"I bought that animal from that strange little man," she snapped, blocking the way. "Its tack, too, and the bag of belongings. Try and leave here with it and I'll call the guard."

Eddie glanced up, gaze landing on Nate as he walked into the barn and down the row of stalls. Her eyebrows rose in silent question: had he heard enough?

Apparently, he had. "That animal belongs to one of ours, as do those clothes. Was it a black-haired man who sold them to you?"