by Bill McCurry
Ella said, “Kidnapping you and threatening your life are unacceptable methods of achieving peace.”
“Vintan did take me, yes, but when he explained, I came with him willingly.”
A short period of silence passed before I said, “Well, don’t hold onto it like it was gold! Tell us why!”
“You know that Northmen fever is decimating the Denzmen. We, our very own kingdom, are sending the plague into the Denz Lands. We are killing them. On purpose. At least, my father’s vile, traitorous nobles are doing it. That is why I came—to speak for my father and promise the Denz king that we will stop them, and to end this war.”
“I admit, that’s a better reason than getting drunk and whoring around.”
Ella said, “That is a noble thing, Pres, and I would experience great pride if I could but pummel some wisdom into you with a club.”
“It sounds as if you’re saying I did the wrong thing.”
“Not the wrong thing,” I said. “You trusted Vintan. It was the foolish thing. It was the ridiculous, reckless, head-up-the-ass-of-a-diseased-pig thing.”
The boy stepped in to loom over me. “I would strike you, if it weren’t ignoble to abuse a pathetic cripple.”
“Pres, that is beneath your dignity!” Ella stood.
“That’s right! Dignity demands that you get cripples drunk and set them free.”
“Bib, if you cannot say something to improve the situation, please desist making inflammatory, mirthful comments.”
I ignored her. “Your Highness, why are you so in love with that walking clump of gristle and snot?”
“I don’t love Vintan. I respect him. He’s a wise man, and I trust him.”
“He killed dozens of your people, helpless ones, all the way here from your home. Maybe hundreds.”
“That’s a lie! I never saw him do anything like that.”
“He probably pressed ahead with you and left his men behind to kill them,” Ella said.
The boy paused. “No. This piece of trash has lied to you about all that. We outpaced the pursuit all the way here.”
I said, “Set that aside just a minute then. Vintan has promised to kill you. He made that promise to the God of Death himself.”
Pres laughed. “He wouldn’t do that. He’s my friend.”
“Oh, I believe that he’s your friend. I wouldn’t doubt that he’s the best friend you’ve ever had. But he’s still going to kill you.”
“Hah! You are a sorcerer, a murderer, and a liar. I don’t believe anything you say.” The boy walked off toward the campfire.
“All true observations,” I said to Ella as she sat cross-legged in front of me again. “He may not be such a poor judge of character after all.”
Ella pressed her lips into a line and gestured at me like her hand was a talking sock puppet. “Open.”
Seven more days passed, filled with riding, eating, sleeping, and squatting in bushes with the prince. The trail rose, leading us through high meadows, then higher hills, and then mountain valleys. Our horses climbed through cold gusts that smelled brittle enough to snap when they hit us. They slid down from the peaks, which were still snowy even in late spring. Ella begged or stole a blanket for me from somewhere, else I would have frozen to death by the fourth day. The cloak Desh had given had been lost far behind, somewhere along the trail.
We passed dozens of small towns and two sizable cities, built from timber in the lower terrain and from stone in the higher country. Vintan never showed an inclination to stop, converse, or recognize the inhabitants’ existence. A man could certainly have purchased beer or even wine in any of them. Although I was too poor to buy a broken whistle, I blamed Vintan for the lost opportunities. Ralt cursed the man in what was a quiet voice by his reckoning, meaning he bitched as loudly as a mean cow. I promised myself I’d employ stark cruelty when I finally killed Vintan.
Yes, despite everything, I expected to kill the man someday. I might have to knock him down and kick him to death, but I had put my mark on him, or at least my metaphorical mark.
On the seventh day, we descended a few thousand feet along a switchback trail around the mountain. At midafternoon, we topped a short rise and arrived at a long, gentle slope that smelled of crisp, growing crops. It rolled to a flatland and then as far as I could see. I felt warm for the first time in days.
An enormous stone castle spread out on the grassland. It covered an area three-quarters of a mile by half a mile—nearly twice as big as Castle Glass, where Pres’s father ruled and did kingly things. The outer wall stood fifty feet high, and tall towers pocked it. The gate must have been on the far side since I didn’t see it, but I did see the tall, wide stone keep in the center of the castle yard.
That yard could have packed in all the hundreds of people living around the castle. Dozens of modest buildings and a few more impressive ones stood in a rough band around the fortress. Farmland and pastures stretched beyond those buildings in a circle maybe three miles across.
“Kind of makes your father look like the fellow who can’t afford to buy drinks for his friends, doesn’t it, Your Highness?” I pointed around with my chin at the astounding castle and lands.
“My father has strongholds in all quarters of the kingdom. Clearly the Denz king has concentrated his power at his capital.”
We had barely ridden down onto the slope when Vintan turned aside and led us to a small, raw-looking wooden structure beside a robust fire. “Welcome to the Eastern Gateway,” he said. “You must pass through it before proceeding to the capital.”
Ella said, “I find it grandiose to refer to this rude structure as the ‘Eastern Gateway,’ or any sort of gateway.”
Vintan laughed and leaned back in the saddle. “Your confusion is understandable, although I admit it gives me a chuckle.” He pointed at the castle. “That is the Eastern Gateway. The capital lies seven days beyond it.” He pointed at the drab hovel beside us. “That is the Separation Chamber. I regret that you will spend the next few days in it until the viscount is satisfied that you aren’t infected.”
I said, “We’re not infected. If we were infected, most of you boys would be dead already.”
“You would, in most cases, be correct, but not in this particular instance. Our expedition was formed entirely of men who had already suffered through the fever and survived. It can’t hurt us, and we can’t pass it to anyone else. All four of you may be ill and currently in the most virulent stage. We wouldn’t be able to tell since you Northmen display but mild symptoms. Now, dismount and remove your clothing.”
Ralt was on the ground a breath later and fumbling with his laces, no sign of arguing with a man backed by two dozen soldiers. I would have slid off my horse right away. I’d been expecting this command since I heard the word separation. But without hands, I wouldn’t so much as slide down as I would flop over and tumble onto the grass in the most graceless manner possible. So, I sat still while Ella and Pres stared at the man.
“Pres, my friend, please don’t challenge this,” Vintan said. “I’m powerless to change it, and you must admit that it follows a sound, if humiliating, logic.”
Ella spoke. “Very well. I shall acquiesce. May we be afforded any preservation of our dignity?”
“None at all.”
Ella sighed as she and the boy began dismounting. In a few moments, they were both helping me out of the saddle. While Vintan and his soldiers watched, Ella, Ralt, and Pres took off their clothes and threw them onto the fire, even their boots and undergarments. Ralt did the same for me. A soldier issued us woolen robes and brought out manacles, with which they chained our ankles—Ella chained to Pres and Ralt to me.
At last, the Denzmen shooed us into the humble, windowless structure. The dirt floor was five paces long by four paces wide. Light seeped in from between the timbers, revealing a barrel of water, a sack of food, and a bucket in the far corner. The odors of damp, packed earth and unwashed bodies surrounded us. Soldiers barred the door behind us.
&nb
sp; Vintan said through the door, “Guards will stand here at all times, but don’t bother speaking to them. They know that answering would displease me. I will return in a few days.” The sounds of orders, bickering, and creaking saddles filtered in, and then hoofbeats faded down the slope.
I looked around for a moment, and then urged Ralt to shuffle with me over to a wall. I sat against it with my knees up. “I hope you three know some good stories. I’ve been told I’m the most easily bored man in the western kingdoms.”
Twenty-Four
Shared suffering sometimes joins people for life by bonds that red-hot steel can’t destroy. My fellow prisoners and I did not respond that way to our confinement. Ralt began cursing Ella for getting us into all this shit. Then he decided that Pres was the real cause of our pain and told the prince that his royal buggering ass wasn’t so impressive without all his armies, was he? Pres ignored Ralt and picked away at Ella for being so foolish as to waste even a minute on me. I told the boy to stop whining like a baby pulled off the tit. Ella doted on me at times and then stripped my flesh with accusations, blaming me for every death and failure, including Vintan cutting off my hands. I pestered everyone for stories and jokes and songs, but not even Ralt would sing for us. At one point, Ralt sat with his back to the rest of us while Pres hurled three loaves of hard bread at my face, one after another.
That was the first day of our imprisonment.
That night, I turned over and over on the dirt, trying to find a sleeping position that caused a little less pain in my wrists. At least Ralt didn’t snore, an unfathomable fact that I could only attribute to direct intervention by at least three gods. He did fart like an ox on a steep grade, though, which was just as bad.
“Bib?” came a murmur from the other side of the wall.
I sat up. “What?”
“Bib, you’re so much better!”
“Limnad?” She was the only being who might tell me I was better after my hands had been chopped off. After she said it, though, I realized I hadn’t craved murder so much these past days. I’d been occupied with getting food into my mouth and not falling off my horse. I stood and leaned against the wall to whisper, “Limnad, how do you want us to hide while you rip this building apart?”
By now, everyone else was up and listening.
“Oh, I’m not going to destroy this building.”
“How will you get us out?”
“I’m not going to do that, either.”
“What? You need to rescue us!”
“That’s a tiny bit of a problem. There are fifty-four men with swords hidden just down the slope from here. All of them are awake and waiting to slaughter anyone who tries to set you free. I heard them complaining about it. Most of them are terribly bored.”
I shifted my thinking and considered a couple of plans before settling on one. “We’ll need to create a diversion to fool the guards into opening the door.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t. Desh will insist on helping, and I certainly cannot allow that.”
I paused to let myself grasp that. “Where is Desh?”
“He’s safe! I put him in a nice, deep cavern until I get back. He wanted to come talk to you, which is crazy. He’d get killed in a minute. He did make me promise we’d rescue you when it’s safer.”
“You hideous blue trollop!” Ella hauled off to kick the wall with her cotton shoes, stopped midstride, and punched the air in Limnad’s direction.
I hissed to silence her. “When do you think that might be?”
“I don’t know when exactly. It may be safe enough after you’ve killed those fifty-four men. So, whenever you kill them.”
I let my head fall forward to smack against the wall. “Limnad, will you please take a message to Desh for me?”
“I will. I’ll do anything for you, Bib, as long as it doesn’t hurt Desh.”
“Tell him that he’s a sneaky bastard, and we’re not going to get out of this by stabbing people. And remind him that an army is coming.”
“I’ll tell him. Goodbye, Bib.”
I turned toward the others, a pointless act since we were all invisible in the darkened hovel. “Don’t worry, we’re not going to die in here.”
“I know,” Ralt said. “They’re going to take us out in the light before they smash our brains out, you scabby walrus tit.”
We didn’t quarrel much the next morning, since we were so depressed we could hardly speak. Except for the prince, who spent all morning pacing the two steps his manacles allowed. He muttered about plan after plan for escaping and saving everyone in both kingdoms.
Some time after noon, the door clunked open. “Out! Don’t dawdle and don’t screw around, or I’ll kill you,” a soldier said from outside.
We shuffled out into the piercing light, where eight soldiers waited to surround us. A tall young man in a finely trimmed green tunic wrinkled his beak-shaped nose and said, “Hello, I’m Aevan Gart, and I’m here to examine all of you today. And tomorrow, and the day after that most likely, although I can’t be certain of that. But we can’t be certain of much, can we?” Gart looked so thin the prince could have jumped on him and broken him. “My apologies in advance for any incidental intimacy with your delicate areas, especially you, miss, but I’m known to be thorough, and that’s because I am. Come on now.” He rubbed behind one ear and beckoned me.
I realized that I had clasped my hands over my groin. I dropped them and said, “If you just tell me what you’re looking for, I’ll tell you whether I’ve got it.”
Aevan nodded at the soldiers. “I’m known to have a fine sense of humor, but that sort of thing is drawing out this whole experience, and I’m sure you don’t want that.” Two of the soldiers had pushed me over to him by then. He unwound the lousy bandages on my stumps. Then he pursed his lips and scratched under his tiny chin. “Gods, what a pathetic job, especially on the left one. It looks like a sausage that someone started on, and then decided they didn’t want, although the wounds haven’t soured, which I find remarkable, really.”
I held my breath as he prodded the stumps, whistled, and wrinkled his nose again.
“I will answer you, because prisoners are allowed to be curious, especially about their own fate, which is only natural, I suppose. I’m examining you for signs of Northmen fever. Because, you are a Northman, you see? Raise your arms. The signs are easily missed in a Northman, but I’m the foremost healing expert on the subject, having once met a Northman with the disease. He almost killed me. By giving me the disease, that is—he didn’t try to cut my throat or anything like that, although I rather wish he’d done that instead of giving me the fever. It was the most awful experience of my life. Bend over.”
I bent.
“Indeed, the symptoms are subtle in the Northman. Flushed skin, slight fever, impaired sense of balance.”
“If that’s all, why do you need to be down there doing that?”
“I’m known to be thorough. Stand up.” He nodded at a soldier. “Unchain him.” The soldier unlocked the manacle from my ankle. “Look up and close your eyes. Walk straight ahead seven steps.”
I walked.
“Very good! You are free of the fever, at least for today, although we must examine you for a run of four days to be certain. Lean over and let me look in your ear.”
“Because you’re known to be thorough,” I said without changing expression.
“Don’t be snippy. Since I’m examining you, I could do all manner of horrible things that would take years to kill you, so don’t waffle around with me!”
“Shit!” yelled a soldier on my right just before he hit the ground. Ralt had grabbed the man and thrown him down before sprinting up the slope toward the stony hillside, his pale woolen robe hiked up and flapping. The chain dragging from his ankle was a clear handicap, but the rocks were only two hundred paces away.
I threw myself against the closest soldier and knocked him off balance. I jumped on another like a monkey and took him down, smashing his groin with
my knee on the way. By the time I looked up, Ralt was fifty paces away with the nearest pursuer thirty paces behind him. None of the soldiers had horses nearby, so Ralt could well make an escape.
Ella was up on her knees watching, with a soldier lying facedown next to her. Pres was rolling back and forth on his back, holding his face with both hands. I pushed myself up, wishing for the millionth time I had hands, and stood. A moment later, a soldier whacked the backs of my legs and knocked me down again.
Two more soldiers had begun chasing Ralt, but they were so far behind they might as well have gone home and had a tea party instead. Just then, another soldier trotted up from behind me and raised a crossbow. I crawled toward him, but he only paused for a second before he fired. The man was a damn good shot. Ralt pitched facedown with a bolt sticking up from his back, and even from eighty paces, I saw that he was writhing.
Soldiers dragged all three of us up and held us against the wall of the hut. Two other soldiers reached Ralt, and one drew his sword.
“Don’t! I can heal him!” I immediately stared at my stumps while the nearby soldiers laughed, and one called me a frog-lipped old bastard who wouldn’t be wanking himself any time soon.
The soldier with the sword killed Ralt, a single thrust into his back. I could tell that, even from so far off. I’d killed dozens of men exactly that way. Ralt convulsed, twitched twice, and lay still.
Ella didn’t seem hurt. Whoever hit Pres might have broken his cheekbone—it was hard to tell. A spectacular bruise was coming up, and blood was filling his right eyeball.
The Denzmen left Ralt lying on the grass while Aevan cursed Ralt for running as he examined Ella and Pres. Once he proclaimed them disease-free, the soldiers locked me back into manacles, one cuff on each ankle.
Before they shoved us back inside, Vintan arrived on horseback. He dismounted and examined the prince’s face. “Who did this?”
None of the soldiers spoke, but three of them glanced at one man.
Vintan stood in front of that fellow. “Pall, when did you join my command?”
