Queen of Stars (25 page)

Chapter 31

H
adar was not just the leader of the Family, he was also the biggest and meanest. He liked to maintain discipline by battering his half siblings senseless with fists and boots. His ears were as big as any starborn’s, but his face was uglier than a pig’s, made all the uglier by a heavy beard shadow, even when he’d just shaved. He usually dressed in black earthling clothes decorated with braid and medals. Rigel called this the uniform of a Nazi storm trooper, whatever that was, and couldn’t say enough bad things about anyone who would wear it.

Hadar also stank. Izar would have known him in pitch darkness.

For a moment he
was
in pitch darkness, because he was being crushed hard against that massive, bemedaled chest. When all the breath had been squeezed out of him, he was lifted clear of the floor, and heard that hateful voice say, “Gotcha! Strip him, lads!”

Busy hands grabbed his ankles and wrists and began pulling off his rings, bracelets, anklets, and ear clips. When he tried to resist, his fingers were roughly pried open. He had no chance to call Edasich.

After that, he was turned around and a stinking hand clamped over his mouth. He tried to bite those great smelly fingers. Hadar retaliated by jerking his hand up against Izar’s nose so hard that he would have cried out, had he been able. Then he pinched it, so Izar couldn’t breathe.

“Any trouble from you, brat, and I’ll rip your ears off.”

Hadar’s helpers were Maaz and Diphda, both of whom could pass for mudlings. Maaz was one of the youngest of the Family graduates. He was garbed in a fanciful warrior costume and was using his helmet to hold Izar’s amulets. Diphda was posing as one of the buxom maidens, wearing a blonde wig and not much else.

Suffocating, Izar struggled and tried to kick Maaz. His half brother punched him in the chest instead, and for a moment the world went black.

Even when Izar could breathe again, Hadar still kept one hand firmly clamped over his mouth and held him aloft with his other arm, so that Izar’s feet didn’t touch the floor. The brute could probably walk around like that all day without noticing the weight.

“Do we have to gag you and tie you up?” the giant growled. “We don’t mean you any harm, starling. We’re going to return you to your daddy, and we’re going to kill that halfling flunky of yours, but we shan’t hurt you.”

That was why his warning bracelet hadn’t warned him.

This was disaster! Without his amulets, Izar was helpless. Now Vildiar had what he wanted and could force Mom to give him the throne. Everything was lost. Izar would be sent to Hadar’s goon training school at Unukalhai and turned into a monster. Or perhaps both he and Mom would be sent to the Dark Cells, so there wouldn’t be any other claimants to the throne.

Then another half brother appeared, Tegmine. “We’ve got him!” he told Hadar jubilantly. “Walked right into it.”

“Good. Go and tell V. He wants to see it done.” Hadar gave Izar a playful but agonizing squeeze. “Like to go and say goodbye to your pet, hmm?”

He led the way, with the other Family members following, and they emerged from the dead heroes’ feast, what Rigel had called the theme park, into one of the rear corners of the great hall. There was the nightmare Izar had expected: Rigel held at bay, with Saiph in his hand. The empty corner was as big as a whole hall might be anywhere else. The cordon of six archers fencing Rigel in were standing seven or eight paces back, too far away for him to rush them, but close enough for them to be sure of hitting him. He didn’t look at all frightened, more sort of mildly annoyed, as if he were being kept from attending to some important business. When he saw Izar clutched to Hadar’s friendly bosom, his eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything.

Hadar did. He could never resist any chance to jeer. “Hey, look what I found! Your master!”

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” Rigel asked scornfully.

“Want to fight me for him?”

Rigel shrugged. “Sure. I beat you last time, when you had Tarf and Muscida and Adhil to help you. How many helpers will you need this time?”

Hadar didn’t answer that, although Izar felt a sort of silent grunt of anger pass through him. Izar peered around at as much of the group as he could see. The dead heroes were still roaring and carousing behind them, as they had done for centuries and would go on doing for as long as the Starlands continued. Another six or eight members of the Family had collected behind the archers to enjoy the coming execution, and among them was one starborn.

Hadar said, “My lord, we are very grateful for your aid. We’ll try not to make too much mess here.” He set Izar’s feet on the ground and reduced his grip to a hand around his upper arm.

Elgomaisa said, “Make as much mess as you want. Take all day. This gravel is self-cleaning.”

“You have a strange way of treating guests, starborn,” Rigel said.

“Guests?”
the royal consort shouted. “Halflings are never guests! Servants, never more. Flunkies. You forgot your place. You have only yourself to blame for the mess you are in now.”

“You swore loyalty on the Star.”

Elegy was turning purple with fury. “I don’t have to listen to this filth. Halfling Hadar, you promised me you would kill him. Do it now!”

“He’s frightened I’ll tell tales,” Rigel said. “He likes to preen around as the queen’s lover, but in fact—”

“Kill him!”
Elegy shrieked.

Hadar had taken his hand off Izar’s mouth, so the imp could join in the baiting. Get an enemy mad enough and he may make mistakes—so Rigel had taught him.

“I’ll tell them the truth, Rigel,” Izar said. “He’s too much a coward to order them to kill me. You’re too ’fraid of the guilt curse, aren’t you, Elegy? Brother Hadar?”

Hadar chuckled. “Yes, Brother Izar?”

The question was, how mad could Izar make Elgomaisa? Mad enough to strike him? Maaz was standing close by, still holding the helmet containing Izar’s amulets. It was true that Izar wasn’t wearing his Lesath now, so it probably wouldn’t respond to him, but he had primed it with two of the three needed words while he was still wearing it, so if he yelled out Edasich’s name really loud a third time when he was being threatened, then she might come to the rescue. Worth trying…Of course, he might not be able to get rid of the dragon afterward, but they could burn that bridge when they came to it. The trick now was to make Elegy try to hit him.

“That character with the black fur isn’t the queen’s—”

“Shut up, brat!” Elgomaisa barked.

“Oh, can’t I just tell them how Mom won’t even let you kiss her? See, brothers, it’s Rigel who cuddles her at—”

“Shut up!”

“That’s shocking, Brother Izar!” Hadar said. “You’re saying that Her Majesty Queen Talitha lets Halfling Rigel stick his thing in her at night? And Starborn Elgomaisa has to go and beat his meat in private somewhere?”

“Oh, no,” Izar said, warming to his task. “He owns a sheep farm over in…”

Elgomaisa rushed at him, arm raised to deliver a backhand, but he didn’t come close before Botein grabbed his arm and twisted it. Halted in his tracks, doubled over, the starborn yelped in pain.

“Archers, keep your eyes on the prisoner!” Hadar boomed.

Izar had his mouth open to scream for Edasich, but the threat had passed, so his trick wouldn’t work. It probably wouldn’t have worked anyway. So Hadar was still holding him, and Rigel was still about to die.

“It’s no great secret,” Rigel said. “The imps guessed, and then the news spread everywhere. If he thinks the queen will let him near her after I’m dead, he’s even stupider than we all thought. Which was pretty stupid. Everyone hates traitors.”

Released by Botein, Elgomaisa shouted, “I’ll be a hero throughout the Starlands!”

Rigel laughed. “Don’t get your hopes up too high. Talitha might cut it off.”

Several of the Family chuckled.

How could he make jokes when he was so obviously about to die?

Elgomaisa looked ready to eat rocks. “Why don’t you do it, Hadar? What are you waiting for?”

“Company,” Hadar said. “Important company. I think it would be best if you didn’t stay to watch, my lord. You might find yourself being questioned in court, shortly. On the Star, I would think.”

The starborn went rigid, his lips curling back in terror. Had he truly never thought of that? He really must be as stupid as Rigel had said. Now he was too stupid even to see why Hadar wanted him to leave.

“Yes, go,” Izar said. “Our daddy’s coming to watch and he doesn’t want any witnesses around who might say that he was here when the marshal of Canopus was murdered. I ’spect that’s treason.”

Elegy was actually turning pale! He hated Rigel so much that he hadn’t worked out what he was getting himself into.

“’Course,” Izar sighed, “it’s too late to save you from the Dark Cells. You’re helping Daddy, and that’s treason, ’cos he’s been outlawed.”
Please, please, try to hit me!

“Don’t gloat, Izar!” Rigel said. “We’re saving that up as a surprise for him.”

“Shut up!” the starborn said. “You’re right, Halfling Hadar. I’ll go and tell my mother the good news.” With a final sneer at Rigel, he stalked away from the archers and left the group.

Rigel put his left hand on his hip and leaned back against the great tree trunk that filled the corner. It was larger than the others. “I am in no hurry. Shall we talk about adults who make war on children?”

“Boss,” Almaak said, “I’m worried the prisoner may escape. Shouldn’t we sort of fix him there somehow? I mean, nail him in place with an arrow?”

“I don’t think one arrow would be secure enough,” Hadar said. “But we can start with one. Scheat, pin his left shoulder.”

A bowstring cracked, Saiph blurred, and the arrow hit the wall about a pace away from Rigel. Rigel shrugged and leaned back against the tree again.

“Schemali,” Hadar said. “And Sadalbari. On the count of three…”

He counted. The bows cracked as one. Again Rigel’s right arm and sword blurred, and this time two arrows struck the wall.

Several of the Family members laughed at this new sport. Izar was trying to stay very still, hoping Hadar would forget he was there a little, so he might loosen his grip on Izar’s arm, and then Izar might break free for just long enough to get to that helmet that Maaz was holding. All he needed to do was grab a handful of those amulets and shout one word.

“Clearly we need to try targets farther apart,” Hadar said. “Scheat, the shoulder again. Sadachbia, you’re a good shot, my dear. You try for his balls. On the count of three. Stop that, maggot!” This last was addressed to Izar, who had made his break for freedom. And failed. Hadar slapped a hand over the imp’s face again and pinched his nose to cut off his air. “Prepare to fire when the brat turns blue.” After a moment, when the audience had enjoyed a good laugh, “Going to behave yourself now? Very well, on the count of three.”

That time Rigel did cry out. One arrow fell in two pieces, but the other pinned his left shoulder to the tree trunk behind him. Just one cry, then a hard swallow and silence. He went very pale and clearly could not move without hurting himself more.

“What’s going on here?” said a new and horribly familiar voice.

Hadar turned to face the newcomers, angling Izar in the same direction. Tegmine had returned, bringing Naos Vildiar with him.

“Just softening him up a little, Your Highness,” Hadar said. Even he had to look up to meet his father’s eyes. “We got the brat, too.”

“Good. Hang on to him.” Vildiar looked over the group again. “Have you any last words, Rigel Halfling? I admit that you have caused me more trouble than I ever expected from a mongrel. But this is definitely the end.”

“Let Izar go, please,” Rigel said. “He shouldn’t have to watch this.” Blood from his shoulder had run all the way down to his foot now. His face was almost as white as the gravel.

“No, it is educational for him to view punishment and see the penalty for insubordination. His manhood training begins now. Carry on, Hadar.”

“Yes, my lord. I’ll call out names. Shoot at once. Try to avoid vital areas, so that we can all have a chance to do our bit for the great cause.”

Izar, free to breathe but with Hadar’s great paw circling his arm like a tourniquet, screamed, “No!”

“Quiet!” his father said. “Or I will have you gagged. Proceed, halfling.”

Hadar shouted, “Diphda, Sadalbari, Schemali, Phact, Sadachbia, Rotanev!” Six bowstrings cracked.

Rigel screamed. Four arrows had missed or been knocked aside by Saiph, but two had hit their mark: one through his right elbow and another through his moon-cloth wrap. Now he was nailed to the wall in three places. He screamed again and again; the sound hurt Izar like hot iron.

Rigel’s sword and gauntlet vanished, unable to help him further. Only the silver bracelet remained on his immobilized arm. He looked at Izar and his mouth moved as if he were trying to speak but couldn’t. There was blood on his teeth.

Hadar said, “Now we’ll hand the bows around so some of the rest of us can share in the fun. Maaz—”

“No!” Izar yelled. “Stop! Stop!”

“Izar?” Vildiar said. “If I tell them to stop torturing Rigel, will you promise to do what I tell you in future?”

“Yes, yes! Anything!”

“You promise?”

Again Rigel tried to say something and only blood came out of his mouth. He shook his head, but Izar couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Yes, I promise! I’ll do anything you say, Father.”

“Good. Kill him.”

“Rotanev,” Hadar said, “Hold the brat for me, and give me your bow. This is my job.” He took the bow and an arrow, and aimed.

He said, “Bye-bye, sucker!”

A fourth arrow sprouted in Rigel’s body, low in his chest. For a moment he stared at Izar, speechless. Then his head fell forward while the rest of him stayed where it was, nailed to the wood behind him. Blood trickled down from his mouth.

The Family halflings all cheered, dancing and waving their arms overhead in triumph.