Pixilated (22 page)

"You can tell me about Hueil. Tell me about
the elves loyal to him. Is this a widespread coup or an isolated
one? What magic, uh, talents do they have on their side? What
resources do we have? Does he have more enchanters like the one I
killed? Tell me about this building. How many doors, how man
windows? Can you draw a floor plan? What are servants’
routines?"

Rian settled himself back on the wine cask
he had vacated. "I can tell you all of that, but to what end?"

A crooked grin tugged at Kree’s lips.
"There’s an old saying where I come from. It goes like this: You
can’t hold a demon unless you chain him to the wall. This cellar of
yours cannot hold me."

"And if you were chained to the wall?" Rian
laughed.

Kree grinned. "Then my escape would take a
little longer."

***

The fine hair on Kayseri's arms stood on end
when Colt swaggered into the room. A shiver shook her. Did the air
actually turn colder? Thanks to Nhurstari healers, one would never
guess Kree had shattered the man’s kneecap only two days past. She
shivered again as his cold black gaze raked her. She had chosen her
gold colored gown’s daring décolletage to tempt her captain. Back
in Arbala, it seemed like a good idea. Now Kayseri wished for
something less revealing. One hand slipped up to cover her bosom.
The devil mercenary winked at her as he made his way to their host.
Hueil had insisted they call him their host.

"Lord Hueil, my men and I are ready to
depart. I trust our service was everythin’ you expected?"

"Everything and more."

"There’s jus’ the little matter of my
payment."

Hueil shifted in his chair. "I understood my
steward had seen to that."

Colt closed in on the Nhurstari lord, placed
his hands on the arms of the elf's chair and leaned in close. "You
hired me to kidnap a child not to go up against some
Goddess-sucking temple champion. You've cost me several good men,
and I demand compensation."

A look of pure astonishment even a dash of
fear bloomed on Hueil’s face. Under other circumstances, Kayseri
would have laughed at the old elf's discomfort.

"You want more gold?"

"I want the champion’s tart so's he
understands what loss is."

Nhurstari guards slip silently into the room
responding to Hueil's telepathic summons. For a man working for
Wilderkin Colt was ignorant of their ways.

"The female is the worst sort of mongrel."
Hueil said. "However, she is under the protection of a Thallasi
princess. She is, therefore, not mine to give. You may ransom the
Templemen, and you may have the champion’s life for those you have
lost."

"No!" Kayseri jumped to her feet. Sandahl
dragged at her hand, but Kayseri shook her off.

Colt smiled cold as winter. "No?"

Kayseri chewed her lower lip, thinking fast.
"Free My Captain and I will come with you. Him for me."

"Such a devoted little tart. How does he
inspire it, I wonder?" Colt reached Kayseri’s side in two strides.
His fingers dug into her arms. His hard gaze traveled the length of
her body. Icy panic shot through her, but an image of Kree alive
and free gave her the courage to lift her chin and look her
tormentor in the eyes. "Do we have a deal?"

"We do indeed, little tart." Colt hauled
Kayseri toward the door, stopped and turned back to Hueil. "Here's
a last piece of advice free of charge." He crossed to elf and
whispered in the Nhurstari's ear.

Chapter Seventeen

As morning wore toward afternoon, the
cousins gathered around offering details Rian had overlooked. Biggs
and Fergus listened intently. Alrick, rebuffed by his prince, sat
in one corner nursing a mug of honey wine. The Nhurstari surprised
Kree. He respected the Majority Apparent and his companions. They
were as impatient with their captivity and as eager to take action
as he was. They were fresh and alive as unlike the staid Thallasi
as night was to day. Kree liked them. He had Rian rehearse every
detail a second and even a third time as they all bent over the
floor plan drawn on the top of a wine cask.

Suddenly, Garen cocked his head to the side
in that odd bird-like way the Nhurstari had. "Someone is coming."
He dropped his hip onto the edge of the cask just as the door
opened at the top of the stairs. The tail of his cloak covered the
drawing.

Kree recognized the newcomer as the elf
whose magic had felled him. There were several other elves with him
all of them armed to their pointy teeth.

When Rian stood, his youthful awkwardness
vanished. Kree stationed himself behind and slightly to the right
of the Majority Apparent forming a bulwark behind the young male
and clearly declared his allegiance. His Templemen moved into
position on the other side to them.

The older elf inclined his head to the
younger. "Are you comfortable, Rian? Do you have all you need?"

"I am surrounded by the best Nhurstari
vintages. I am making interesting new friends. There are hardly any
rats. I lack nothing aside from my liberty."

Hueil favored Rian with a razor thin smile.
"I did not come to spar with you First Heir, though it is always
amusing. I came for the large human." A slight nod directed Hueil's
elves toward Kree. "Place your hands behind your back, kneel on the
floor, and allow my guards to secure you. The other humans will
stand away."

Rian blocked the guards’ path. The look of
puzzlement on the young Nhurstari’s face amazed Kree. Rian was what
then, a hundred-year-old innocent?

"Explain yourself, Hueil."

Two Nhurstari tied Kree’s wrists and elbows,
and dragged him to his feet.

"You are so noble, Rian. So trusting. It is
your greatest fault." Hueil shook his head in mock wonder. "How
could a babe such as you guide the Nhurstari for a day? Allow me to
keep things simple. So simple even a babe can understand them.
Ransom has been arranged for this human. I suspect this news will
not please him, and I want no more violence from him."

Kree’s head snapped toward Hueil.
Ransomed?
He could not imagine Duncan paying ransom. But
then again, he could. His first lieutenant had a far cooler head
than most men of war possessed preferrng words over swords. An
accommodation might suit Duncan.

"Ransomed how?" Kree said.

"Ah." Hueil folded his hands before him. "It
is quite romantic actually. The mongrel female sold herself to my
hired man in exchange for your freedom."

His words hit Kree as a blow to the chest.
His heart stuttered. His legs failed. On his knees, arms bound
behind him, he threw back his head and roared. Nhurstari guards
hauled him to his feet and manhandled him toward the stairs, but he
broke free and lunged into Biggs. "Be ready." Kree snarled at the
startled Templeman before the guards overpowered him and pushed him
up the stairs.

Outside the shadows lengthened toward
evening. Two additional guards waited armed with Nhurstari long
bows and fell in with the others as they marched Kree deep into the
forest. He wondered if they planned to set him free or execute him.
Who had promised Kayseri his freedom? Had she made her bargain with
Colt? If so, Kree didn't give a copper lady for his survival.
Whatever else Colt was, he was a hired killer who knew better than
to leave enemies at his back.

Kree could not tell how long they marched.
The moon had not risen and the forest's thick canopy blocked out
the stars. They reached a small clearing and stopped. Night
creatures crawled through the undergrowth. In the distance, a wolf
called mournfully to its pack.

Their leader pushed at Kree's shoulder. "You
will sit."

Kree went first to his knees, then over onto
his hip.

"Legs straight front," the leader said.

Two Nhurstari knelt on Kree's thighs while
another held a drawn bow pointed directly at his chest. Still
another pulled Kree's boots off and tied his ankles. When his legs
were secure, their leader moved in and cut the rope binding his
elbows, leaving his wrists bound. The elf scored Kree’s arms with
shallow cuts meant to bleed freely, and pitched the knife into the
underbrush. He stared down a Kree. "I regret there is no honor in
my orders."

Kree gave the elf a curt nod. He was a
soldier. He understood. Abandoning him to predators kept the letter
of Kayseri's bargain. If freed himself and survive fine. If not,
fine. The moment the elves disappeared into the trees, Kree closed
his eyes, drew a deep breath, and tried to relax the muscles in his
arms and shoulders. What he was about to attempt would hurt like
the very hells if it worked at all. He took another steadying
breath and centered himself. Leveraging the pressure of the ropes
against his own muscle, he dislocated his left shoulder, rolled
onto his back, and rocked back and forth until he had worked his
hands under his hips. With a little more painful wriggling and
rocking, he worked his legs through the circle of his arms.

He lay on the ground panting. A light sheen
of sweat coated his skin. Goddess sodden hell! That hurt. But his
hands were in front where he wanted them. He sat up and set to
gnawing on the knots. His left arm throbbed like the devil. If only
he could pop his shoulder back into place as easily as the
contortionist who had shown him the trick had done. Wouldn't that
be something?

A birdcall sounded off to his left, a
twittering sea bird’s cry out of place in the mountains. Duncan.
Kree left off chewing the knots and answered the call. The sound
horses approaching through the trees rewarded him, and moment
later, Aimery Duncan lead Red Fist into the tiny clearing.

His first lieutenant knelt at his shoulder
and cut the ropes. He cleaned the shallow cuts on Kree’s arms, and
with quick economy of motion reset Kree's shoulder.

"Davith, bring the captain’s horse and his
clean uniform, please." Duncan glanced at Kree’s stocking feet.
Clearly, perturbed by his failure to plan a footwear contingency, a
frown line appeared between his brows. "Patrick!" A large senior
cadet rode forward. "Lend Captain Fawr your boots, please," Duncan
said.

"But I only have—" The cadet’s protest died
under the force of Duncan's glare. The first lieutenant's vivid
blue eyes practically shot off sparks. "Yes, sir, First Lieutenant,
sir." The cadet said hopping off his horse and shucking his only
pair of boots.

With Kree outfitted to Duncan’s
satisfaction, the young officer swung up into his saddle and
snapped off a sharp two-fingered salute. "Captain Fawr, Red Fist is
at your service."

"The Fist is light." Kree observed as they
rode toward Duncan’s camp.

"Yes, sir. I have been watching the lodge
for the better part of two days looking for a weakness that would
give me access to you. When the mercenaries withdrew today, they
took Miss Burin with them whose whereabouts I judged you would wish
to know. I assigned two men to tail them."

"Did you find one?" They reached camp and
dismounted. Kree handed Storm off to his senior cadet, taking the
time to tousle young Davith’s hair by way of a hello.

"Sir?"

"A weakness? Did you find one?"

The First Lieutenant pulled a face. "Nothing
I am comfortable using. I do not have enough intelligence on these
people to take absolute decisions."

"Come on. Cheer me up, Shug."

Duncan shrugged. "The mercenaries have
withdrawn. We are above average fighters. We have plenty of food. I
know you are hungry, but I am afraid I cannot think of anything
else you might find cheerful, sir."

"Above average, you say?" Kree chuckled. "We
are lions, Duncan.
Lions
. Don't ever forget it. Do we have
mead to go with that food?"

Red Fist kept a cold camp this night. No
cook fires. No lanterns. The two men made their way to the supply
wagon for a ration of dried meat, bread, cheese, and the lifeblood
of Kingdom armies, mead. Kree settled on a campstool and propped
his feet on another stool. The borrowed boots pinched.

Duncan sat opposite him. "How soon do you
wish to strike, sir?"

Kree wiped his mouth with the back of his
hand. "Soon. Tonight if you can manage it. And I’ve told you before
you don’t have to sir me. No one else does unless they’ve managed
to seriously brass me off."

"Yes sir." Duncan waited until Kree put the
mug to his lips. "And I am aware how difficult it is to brass you
off."

The captain snorted laughter. His feet came
off up of the stool, he turned his head quickly and spewed a
mouthful of mead on the ground. "Point taken." He set the mug on
the ground.

"Thank you, sir."

"So what did you bring me?"

"Lady Bird did not describe your situation
to my satisfaction, sir. Since I could not know what we needed, I
brought the whole pantry."

Kree leaned forward, held his reserved young
officer’s face between his hands and kissed the man soundly on the
mouth. "I love you, Sugarbabe! I swear it on Namar’s eyes!"

"Thank you, sir." The First Lieutenant raked
his hand across his mouth. "I think."

His first lieutenant's diffident response to
his unexpected burst of affection amused Kree. First Lieutenant
Duncan was, in his opinion, too controlled and too controlling for
so young a man.

"Gather the Fist." Kree winced as he pushed
to his feet. These damn boots were tight. "We’ve got a raid to
plan."

The captain meticulously reproduced the
lodge’s floor plan from memory. He described Rian and his people in
such minute detail that the Fist could recognize them on sight. The
plan Kree proposed included dropping weapons to the captives. Red
Fist’s strength lay in shock and speed. They hit fast relying on
surprise and confusion as much as skill. It would not do to kill
Nhurstari's young Majority Apparent in the resulting chaos.