Hand of Fire (The Master of the Tane)

by Rath, Thomas

  Thane continued his translation, but Dor didn’t react.

  Jack sighed heavily. “If you want to keep traveling with us you’re going to have to get it through that thick skull of yours that I’m your friend, got it? If not, then you are welcome to leave and try making it on your own.” Jack got to his feet in one fluid motion and put his dagger away. Still looking at Dor he finished with, “The choice is yours.” Then, smiling weakly at Thane, he went back to the fire and sat down, the joy he showed earlier at dinner, now replaced with the former gloom of the past couple days.

  Thane sat by Dor who just silently stared at the sky above. “What did you think you were doing?” he finally asked.

  Dor turned his head and looked at him. “I thought I was saving your life. Thanks for your help.”

  Thane’s heart felt a twinge of pain that visibly moved to his face. “Dor, he wasn’t going to hurt me, just like he didn’t hurt you.”

  Dor reached up to the bruise that was forming on the side of his face and winced as he touched the tender area.

  Thane sighed, understanding the gesture. “You know what I mean, Dor. You deserved that.”

  Dor looked back at him incredulously. “I can’t believe this, Thane. Are you still so angry at me for what I did to you that you want revenge?”

  Thane’s face dropped. “Please, don’t do this Dor. You know you are the only friend I have ever had until now.”

  “Until now. That is what is so difficult for me to understand, Thane. He’s a HuMan. His kind almost killed off our kind, not to mention me. How can you trust him so completely and turn away from your own people?”

  “I haven’t turned from anyone, Dor,” Thane said with the slight tremble of irritation in his voice. “My people have turned from me! I know what you went through at Hell’s End, Dor, but that does not mean that Jack is the same way. Look at PocMar and his goons. It’s the same thing. If they caught Jack, do you think he would have been treated any better? Do you think he would still live? He saved my life and I trust him. He has done nothing to make me believe otherwise. Until I found you, he was the only one left I could trust in the world, the only one to accept me for who I am, not for what I am or where I come from! Can’t you see it, Dor?”

  Dor’s face was a mask of anger and confusion mixed together in a battle for dominance. He knew what his friend said had a ring of truth to it but he could not yet forget what he had suffered and at whose hands. He loved Thane like a brother but he wasn’t sure he could live in his life again as it was now.

  “I don’t know what to think,” he finally said and then got to his feet and disappeared into the darkness. Thane watched him for a long moment before he finally returned to the fire.

  “I’m sorry,” Jack offered. “I thought I could gain his trust but I guess I was a little too rough on him.”

  Thane sighed, staring wearily into the flames as they crackled and hissed robbing the life of an unknowing bug. “It’s not that, Jack. He just can’t seem to look past where you come from. I’m feeling myself being pulled into two different directions and I don’t know what to do.”

  Jack was silent for a moment. “I know how you feel,” was all he finally said and then climbed into his blankets and rolled over away from the fire and his brooding Chufa friend.

  Thane kept a long vigil waiting for Dor to return but was soon overcome by the press of their ride the past two days and all the emotional stress he had been forced to endure.

  Waking with a jerk, he quickly sat up and checked his surroundings for anything amiss. It was light, and after a brief moment of disorientation his eyes fell on Jack who was sitting by the fire cooking the morning meal. Stretching briefly, he hunkered over to the older man and warmed his tired bones. He opened his mouth but Jack cut him off. “Haven’t seen him. He hasn’t returned since last night. I’m sorry, Thane, but I think he took me up on my offer and has decided to go at it alone.”

  Thane stared at the licking flames as they wove themselves in a mystic dance of love and danger. His heart sank. Why couldn’t Dor understand? He was treating Jack just the same way the men at the fort treated him. Couldn’t he see he was being just as terrible as they had been?

  Jack passed him a plate of mashed haiping that he ate as if by force of habit while allowing himself to get lost in the flame’s hypnotic dance.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Tam stared with adoration at the large, fleshy back encompassing her vision as it led the way before her. In the long days of marching, she had learned and memorized every line, every curve, every hair and detail of the one she knew as her master, her protector. No longer did her nose curl in disgust at the passing of a gentle breeze, which cascaded the smell of sweat, dirt and rotting flesh like a thick fog over her as they emanated from his body. Now the smell conjured memories of sweet intoxication and the ever-present anticipation of the coming of night and the rewards it brought with it.

  She smiled at the thought while brushing away a strand of hair that had dropped over her forehead, slightly obscuring her vision. Like the rest of her, it was filthy with grime and trail dirt that was thrown into the air by the thousands of heavy feet that marched ahead. She scratched a tiny bug from her ratted mane using a cracked fingernail caked with the same greasy dirt that ran in streaks over the rest of her body. Her clothes were ragged, barely keeping her decently covered, and reeked of sweat and waste. She moved about freely now, no longer burdened with the tight rope that had twisted around her wrists and neck to keep her from running away. She laughed at the thought, unsure of why it was ever imagined. She had no desire to leave.

  The distant cry of a mountain bird caught her attention briefly filling her mouth in an instant gush as her mind turned to thoughts of the sweet taste of warm flesh. She scanned the sky to her right searching the great mountains that had been their companion for the past two days. The land had long ago leveled into a large expanse of grass and shrubs leaving them victims to the warming, spring sun. Only occasionally did a small area of scattered trees render any relief with its brief canopy of cooling shade. The nights still bit with cold teeth as winds raced down the mountainside forcing their way through clothes and skin where they wrapped themselves viciously around aching bones.

  Tam was suddenly jarred from her skyward search as her head and shoulder collided with her master’s firm body knocking her painfully to the ground. She looked up just as his familiar toe hurled itself mercilessly into her stomach momentarily stealing the air from her lungs and bringing water to her eyes. The grating sounds of laughter lashed out behind her from her master’s three jealous wives who hated her fiercely because of the favoritism their mate showed her.

  Tam forced herself up not wanting to show any weakness or pain to the three ugly troll women she was forced to tolerate. She quickly wiped the tears from her face leaving small streaks of half clean skin while glaring at the hideous creatures. She was about to lash back but her master’s voice interrupted her.

  “Make camp, cook food, now!”

  Tam moved without another word, tearing the pack from the first female troll’s back at her obvious discomfort and objection. Normally such a maneuver would have earned her a blow across the face, but she knew her master watched and his wives dared not touch her in his presence. And though what was held back now would probably come to her later, the satisfaction of seeing her master’s glare at his seemingly lazy and slow wife made it all worth the bruises she was sure to receive from the wife’s fist or foot.

  Tam had quickly learned the rules of survival in her master’s strain and now used them to her utmost advantage to climb higher in station. No longer was she the family pet to be brushed away and spit upon but a full equal that enjoyed the same privileges and expectations due all female trolls. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought as she quickly gathered fuel to start her master’s cook fire. She would eat second tonight for certain. He had to see her importance over the other three.

  Pulling a small chunk of rotti
ng meat from the pack, Tam pierced it with a willow stick and then held over the fire. She watched it carefully, knowing exactly how her master liked it while the other three busied themselves with finding grubs and small roots to supplement the small meal. As was troll custom, the male always ate first and by the size of the meat dangling over the flames and the drool that fell shamelessly from their mate’s mouth, it was unlikely they would receive much of it, if any. Tam glanced at her rivals with a look of utter hatred and disdain as they shuffled about slowly overturning small logs and rocks in search of the bugs that would be their meal. The gray colored meat dripped small droplets of grease into the fire sending tiny lines of putrid smelling steam into the fast approaching night air warning Tam that it had reached its point of perfection. No sooner had she drawn it back from the fire she was knocked over, the stick and meat jerked ruthlessly from her fingers. She smiled happily as her master gorged himself on the half rotten flesh sending long drips of saliva flailing about as he ravenously ate trying to satisfy his hunger. She was confident that she would receive a portion of his meal tonight and that the others would have to fill themselves on the bugs they found.

  Her master paused for a moment and looked at her. Tam watched him patiently knowing that he was about to name her as the one to share his meal. “Tangar, come.” What was this? Tam swallowed hard the objection that had almost slipped past her lips and would have certainly earned her a fierce beating. How could this be? She was the one who had earned his favor this day. She was the one who should be given the last bit of saliva-covered flesh. Tangar quickly moved to her mate’s side and groveled lovingly at his mud covered feet. Tam watched in shocked disbelief. “You learn to watch and not run into Krog’s back,” her master said with a sneer before barking out a horrid laugh.

  Tam felt tears gathering along her lower eyelids until she noticed Tangar’s mocking smile that had been directed right at her. Like a lightning flash, Tam was in the air her fists flying at her smug rival’s face. Krog stepped back laughing even harder as Tam connected a wildly thrown blow right into the troll woman’s eye sending her back in a fit of pain. Tam was on her in an instant with fingernails bared, racking without much affect across Tangar’s greasy, thick skin. Another fist connected with the side of the troll woman’s head before the surprise attack lost its advantage.

  Tangar’s thick, burly arm rose up quickly and effortlessly threw Tam away. Tam hit the ground with a loud thump slowing her just enough to allow Tangar to rise and give her the bruises Tam had been expecting. Another blow came and Tam felt her head spin as darkness quickly closed around her. But just before she blacked out, a smile touched her lips at the thought of the black eye Tangar was sure to wear for the next couple of days.

  Tam slowly opened her eyes, trying, with little success, to get them to focus. The pain in her head immediately made her aware of where she was and what had happened. She felt cold clueing her in that night must have already fallen. Nighttime. She forced herself up, with great effort, fighting against the dizziness and nausea that threatened to rob her of consciousness once more. Her ears still rang, an obvious result from the beating she had taken, but all that she pushed away from her mind. There was something infinitely more important then a few bruises or aches. She could feel it rising in her stomach, the burning, the need. She painfully struggled to her feet trying to get her eyes to focus on the blurry images that surrounded her. A bright light, not too far from where she stood, promised the warmth of a fire but that was unimportant. She must find Krog.

  Suddenly, as if by some great magic, a large shadow crossed her path blocking her way. “Master?” she breathed out urgently.

  A low, rumbling laugh broke through the ringing in her ears just as her eyes finally began to separate the hazy shadows into dividing lines and sharper images. Looking up, she was greeted by Krog’s vile face and broken smile. “You eat?”

  Tam shook her head and immediately regretted the action as a throbbing pain filled her skull that was not so easily dismissed.

  “You eat. Then you drink.”

  Krog reached his thick fingers into his pocket and produced a large, yellow slug that stretched across the total expanse of his huge hand. Tam looked at her meal for a mere second before grabbing it from his hand and shoving the entire thing into her mouth. Her stomach made a small attempt at objection but quickly gave in knowing all too well the liquid that was soon to follow.

  She chewed it quickly, licking up the sticky juice that splattered across her protruding lips, before swallowing it down without the least bit of discomfort. Krog laughed harshly finding exquisite joy in the destructive force he had been on one from such a noble race and ancestry.

  “You like Krog’s meal,” he said knowing she would eat dung if he asked her to.

  Tam only nodded, trying to control the quivering that was beginning to overtake her. Krog watched with interest for a moment as if testing her before he quickly turned and moved away.

  “Wait,” she whimpered, reaching a hand out to grab him. Krog whirled back connecting his hand with the side of her face.

  “You no touch the great Krog! You get what you want when I come back.”

  Tam lay on the ground where she landed trying to maintain consciousness as the pain doubled in her stomach and skull. “I must have it,” she whispered to the empty spot where her master stood only seconds before. “I must have it now.”

  Something dug into her side. She tried to move away from it but was unable. Wherever she moved it was still there digging painfully into her ribs. She opened a swollen eye and waited as it slowly focused on her master towering over her. The digging ended abruptly as Krog removed his foot from her ribcage and presented her with a small bowl. The fact that she must have passed out did not even make an attempt to enter her muddled mind as all thoughts were directed to the bowl in front of her and what it contained.

  Hands reached up for it that some how looked foreign, and then brought it down to her dry, cracked lips now parted in a pleasant smile as the lukewarm liquid poured swiftly down her throat. Instantly the pain seemed to disappear and she felt her whole body fill with warmth followed by the slight dizziness that turned her head into a fuzzy haze. Her tongue searched hungrily through the empty bowl feeling desperately for any more of the liquid joy that brought such a sensation of comfort. Licking hard against the interior walls, she tried to suck out every last drop that might still cling to the wooden vessel.

  Finally, Krog tired of her degrading show of weakness and addiction and wrenched the bowl from her hands. “You go sleep now.”

  Tam just smiled and let the night take her.

  She awoke the next morning feeling the full fury of the scratches and bruises she had received the night before. Stretching her body painfully, she tried to work the cold from her bones and warm herself against the frigid morning air. Sadly, the effects of the life giving draught had worn off; they always did by morning. She thought of how wonderful a few drops would taste now but then tried to force it from her mind knowing there would be none until the setting of this new sun.

  Looking around, she immediately noticed her master’s absence and felt a wave of anxiety rush through her. She never liked to be too far from him knowing all too well his importance in her life. If he were gone, who then would bring her the dark liquid that made her feel so good?

  A slight movement at her side drew her attention, revealing a large beetle as it struggled its way over a small branch. Without thought, Tam picked it up and shoved it into her mouth, barely tasting the bitter flavor as she quickly chewed and swallowed. Others were now beginning to awaken and she knew the struggle for a small morning meal would quickly become fierce. Before they left any area, it was sure to be stripped of every creeping thing unlucky enough to crawl out from under a rock or out of a hole.

  As she foraged through the growing, spring grass, she caught site of Tangar and the large, black circle around her eye. Both exchanged challenging stares before hunger overcame thei
r hatred for one another forcing them back to the task at hand. Tam couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction at her handiwork.

  Just as the last small insect was being sucked down, a shout was sent down the line that they were marching again. Tam quickly ran up to find her master and fall in line behind him but was disappointed to find Gargan, one of his other wives, there before her. She was about to object when Krog flashed an ugly smile at her. “You walk at back. Learn your place.”

  Not wanting to displease him anymore, she turned about quickly falling in behind Tangar who, it seemed, had also lost her position.

  Once again, the large column of troll bodies pressed itself forward to a destination unknown and unimportant to the young Chufa girl who only concentrated now on making it through the day and to the time when she would receive her nightly reward.

  The day passed slowly under the unusual heat of the early spring sun. The breeze that so often cascaded down the mountainside had ceased, leaving the air filled with the dust and grime that was cast about from the trail.

  Tam’s mind retreated into itself trying to discover some relief from the nagging emptiness that pounded through her head and stomach. Looking at the position of the sun she determined that only half of the day was gone leaving her to suffer the withdrawals her body was forced to endure until it found relief in her nightly drinks. She tried to remember back through the days before the march the person she might have once been but those memories had slipped away into a distant fog.

  They passed slowly through a small copse of trees and the smell of the pines touched her senses igniting in her a distant recognition that she couldn’t quite grasp. She tried to hold onto the memory but the aching in her head turned her thoughts, instead, back to the draught that had taken over her mind and body. She could almost taste the sweet nectar dripping down her parched throat giving her that feeling that would wash away the pains of the day while lending her some strength and purpose.