The three Damarans went still as tree stumps, but Hweilan kept chewing as she walked back and forth, back and forth. Darric’s stomach took a wet tumble, and he felt bile rising in his throat. How could she-?
“Stop teasing them, Kaad,” said Hweilan around a mouthful of food. “He’s only having a bit of sport with you. It’s goat. An old, ill-tempered goat by the taste of it, but it’s just goat.”
Jaden still hadn’t been able to swallow what was in his mouth, and Valsun stared down at his platter. “And the … stew?”
“Only roots, herbs, and a bit of deer,” said Kaad.
Valsun picked something out of his mouth and tossed it in the fire. “Which bits? The damned hooves?”
Kaad chuckled. “Be still,” he told Jaden, then unrolled the bundle he’d brought. Inside were an assortment of herbs and roots, along with many stoppered vials in sleeves along the inside of the bundle. The old hobgoblin selected one of them, opened it, and smeared a pungent paste onto Jaden’s wound.
He hissed. “Unholy Hells! That burns!”
“Only a moment,” said Kaad. “It will deaden the flesh so that I can clean and stitch it.”
“Just give them some gunhin,” said Hweilan.
Darric caught the amused smile Kaad gave Hweilan, but then the old hobgoblin shook his head. “Forbidden, I fear. Gunhin is for warriors bled in battle. Not for prisoners.”
“What is … gunhin?” asked Valsun.
“The reason the lady can’t sit still and avoids looking at the duke’s son,” said Kaad.
Hweilan scowled at the healer, but the old hobgoblin didn’t see it, busy as he was cleaning the paste from Jaden’s scalp. “What did you do to tear such a gouge in your head?” he asked.
Jaden pointed at Hweilan. “She threw one of your warriors on top of me. A damned big one.”
Kaad put away the vial and began to thread a needle that Darric thought looked far too big for stitching skin.
“Rhan, you mean?” said Kaad.
“Big brute with a black sword?” said Jaden. “That’s him.”
“You have told them, then?” said Kaad. The healer was squinting at the needle, so it took Darric a moment to realize he’d been speaking to Hweilan.
“Told us what?” said Darric.
Kaad finished working the thread into the needle and set about stitching Jaden’s scalp. Darric knew when he was being purposefully ignored. He looked to Hweilan over the fire. She held his gaze, but he didn’t like what he saw there.
“Where is my brother, Hweilan?” said Darric.
“He’s alive,” she said. “For now. But he has been condemned to death.”
And then she told them the rest.
Darric thought there had to be more, some sane resolution to her tale. But when she walked around the fire to take a long drink from the pitcher, he realized she’d said all she was going to say.
“Have you gone completely mad?” Darric stood. “You can’t fight that monster!”
Hweilan opened her mouth for what looked to be an angry retort, but Kaad cut her off.
“If she doesn’t, you three won’t fare much better than your big friend. If Maaqua is in a generous mood, she will give you to some of the unblooded warriors for practice. A quick death, but still not pleasant.”
“But-” said Darric.
“Lady,” said Valsun, though he looked to Darric. “We are most grateful for your attempt to help us. But if what you told us is true, we cannot just leave while our brother is tortured to death.”
“So what is your plan?” Darric asked Hweilan.
“My plan? I plan to kill Rhan, get my things back, and go to Highwatch.”
“And what of Mandan?”
“I have other concerns.”
“Other concerns?” Darric screamed. He stood to his feet so quickly that he rapped his head against the stone ceiling. He noted that his outburst had caught the attention of the warriors at nearby fires, but none of them had made a move to intervene. They were just watching the show. “What’s the matter with you, Hweilan? We can’t just leave him!”
Hweilan kept her voice low, but there was no less heat in it. “If you have an army on the way that you neglected to tell me about, now would be the time. I tried to bargain for Mandan, but even the warchief refused to intervene. Me beating the Razor Heart champion gets the four of us out of here. I can do nothing more.”
“They’re going to torture him. To death!”
For a moment, he thought he had her. Something in her expression, some crack in the mask … but then it was gone, and she said, “I know. There’s nothing I can do.”
“I …” Darric stopped. He didn’t know what. She refused to help and he didn’t know what to say.
“I fight, Rhan,” said Hweilan, “I leave. If you choose to stay … you’re on your own.”
“You won’t help us?”
“I can’t help you!” she shouted. All the hobgoblin warriors were watching now, intent on every word. “Not against the entire Razor Heart in their own fortress! And even if I could, I wouldn’t. I have more important-”
“More important? More-” Darric found himself completely at a loss for words. But then he found the one question that summed it all up. “What kind of monster are you?”
Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment Darric was reminded of the night he first saw her on the mountain, that predator’s gaze staring out from the bone mask. He had thought her a monster then, too. It saddened and enraged him that he’d been right.
“I’m no monster, Darric,” she said. “But I’m not a child anymore, either. The world isn’t a court bard’s tale. Honor may help you sleep at night, but it won’t keep the dark at bay.”
“I forbid it,” said Darric, and as soon as he’d said it he felt an utter fool.
“Forbid?” Hweilan snorted. “You’re in no position to forbid anything.”
“Mandan is my brother,” said Darric. “If they won’t let you fight for him, I will.”
Hweilan studied him a moment, and for the life of him Darric could not guess her thoughts. But damned if she didn’t look … hungry. He felt the blood rising to his cheeks but forced himself not to look away. Perhaps the fire and smoke would hide his blush.
“They won’t allow it,” said Hweilan. “Your lives belong to the Razor Heart. If I defeat the champion, your lives are returned. Mandan’s life belongs to this … Ruuket. Besides, you wouldn’t make it through the crowd’s first cheer. Not against Rhan.”
“Oh, and you will?”
“You’re not a killer, Darric.”
“I’m a knight! I’ve killed more p-”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“What?” Darric looked to Valsun for support, but the old knight was watching Hweilan.
“You’re a knight,” said Hweilan. “You kill to defend yourself or others. But you don’t like killing.”
“And you do?”
The smile she gave him had no humor or good will in it. It was the bared-teeth look of a wolf warning a lesser member of the pack to step away and wait its turn. If there was anything left of the girl he had known years ago, he couldn’t see it. Not anymore. And he thought, Oh, gods, Hweilan, what have they done to you?
CHAPTER NINE
Part of Hweilan-a very small part, she admitted-regretted being so hard on Darric. It was not her intention to shame him. But in their current situation, his sense of honor was only going to get him and all his companions killed. She didn’t doubt his courage, but neither did she doubt Rhan might spend a while toying with Darric for the pleasure of the crowd, then put a quick and bloody end to him.
Kaad completed his ministrations of Jaden and Valsun, confirming that Darric was suffering from nothing more than a few bruises and lack of sleep.
“Now,” Kaad said to Hweilan, “I’ll look at that arm.”
“It’s fine.”
Kaad glanced quickly over each shoulder, then said, “Drakthna is nothing to take lightly. Can’t let that fester.”
Hweilan caught his meaning. She stood still and presented her bare arm to Kaad. He bent close, seeming to examine the tattoo and new skin-and pressed a small bundle into her hand. It was soft, like lamb’s skin, but she could feel the contents. She shoved the whole thing into her pocket.