“Xak Tsaroth. Wasn't I, Krago?”
“Hmm? Yes, you were.”
A pair of goblins tramped in, laden with covered trays of food. Riverwind was quite surprised when the cover was whisked away, revealing an excellent haunch of venison, well roasted. Trays on the other end of the table held fruit and vegetables, most raw and unpeeled. Krago marked the page he was reading and shut his book. He took grapes and pears from the tray and cut the latter into neat quarters. Thouriss dragged the venison haunch in front of him and lowered his head to bite.
“Guests are served first,” said Krago quietly.
Thouriss froze. He closed his wicked jaws slowly, pulled a knife from his belt, and carved the haunch. He cut slices for Riverwind, Catchflea, and Di An. Krago didn't eat meat, he explained. Then, for himself, Thouriss cut fist-sized chunks of meat and swallowed them whole, causing large bulges to appear in his neck until the meat passed out of his throat. It was both fascinating and repulsive to witness.
When the deer's leg bones were picked clean, Thouriss sat back and folded his hands across his belly. “Tell me,” he said, “how is it you come to be here?”
Riverwind was ready for this. He said, “We entered a cave in the Forsaken Mountains and got lost. Trying to find our way out, we emerged in the mine below Xak Tsaroth.” It wasn't a lie, even if he had left out a great deal.
Thouriss stared at him. His direct gaze discomforted Riverwind. It seemed the commander could sense that his story was not quite right.
“What is it you are mining for?” asked Catchflea quickly.
“Cinnabar,” said Krago absently. “An ore of quicksilver.”
“You are refining quicksilver. For what purpose? “
“We need it,” Thouriss said. “That is sufficient answer.”
“Quicksilver is used in the refining of gold,” Di An blurted.
Krago raised an eyebrow. He said, “Do you know the working of metals?”
“Some things,” the elf girl said, looking at her plate. “My people know metals.” She popped a grape into her mouth.
“I have heard this. I wish you were older, that we might talk about the practices of your country,” Krago said.
Di An was tiring of people mistaking her for a child. “I'm not as young as I look,” she said with some vigor.
“Oh?” Thouriss said.
“I am well over two hundred years old,” she said.
“Extraordinary,” said the reptilian commander. “How do you explain your youthful appearance?”
“There are many like me in my country. We age, but we never grow up.”
Now Krago was very alert. He leaned far over the table, to get closer to the elf girl. “Arrested development? I would like to hear more of this.”
“Krago is deeply interested in such matters,” interjected Thouriss. “Growth and aging are his prime areas of study.”
“Ahem.” Catchflea pointedly cleared his throat. “What is to become of us?”
“I haven't decided,” Thouriss said. He scratched one of his metallic fingernails on his silver plate. The resulting screech set Riverwind's teeth on edge.
“We are merely travelers,” Riverwind said. “We only want to go our own way.”
“I will decide,” Thouriss said with sudden irritation. “Do not vex me. It does not serve your cause.”
“You have no right to keep us here. We are free people.” Thouriss smashed a fist on the table. A candlestick toppled and rolled off onto the ground. “I have a right to do anything I please! I command here!” Krago coughed into his water glass. Thouriss stood up in irritation. “Go back to your cell until I send for you. And when I do, you will not know if I am going to free you or have you beheaded!”
He growled an order in a harsh guttural tongue, and the guards surrounded the table. Riverwind, Catchflea, and Di An went quietly with them.
Krago rose and circled behind Thouriss. He touched a cool hand to the back of the commander's heavily muscled neck. “Your blood is racing,” the cleric said soothingly. “You lost your temper for no good reason.”
“I know. I know.” Thouriss breathed fast through his narrow nostrils.
“The barbarian was goading you, and you did what he wanted. That is bad, Thouriss. A leader must remain cool under stress.”
“I know!” Thouriss smote the tabletop again with his fist.
The thick wood cracked and a sliver pierced the tablecloth, embedding itself in his hand. He held the injured hand up, watching the greenish blood well out of the tiny wound.
“Krago,” he whimpered, “take it out!”
“All right, come to my chamber.”
The powerful commander trailed after the smaller, less imposing human, cradling his injured hand. “I don't feel like a leader. So many people know so much more than I do,” said Thouriss.
The cleric resumed walking. “That's only natural. How old are you?”
The creature counted on his fingers. “Four, no five.”
“Five months old,” Krago said evenly. “Remarkable. A human at five months is still a mewling thing, unable to walk or talk. In a year, you'll be wiser and more powerful than any draconian ever created.”
In Krago's study, Thouriss held still as the human plucked the splinter out with a pair of forceps. Thouriss put the wound to his lips and licked the few drops of blood away.
“Does your blood taste like mine?” he asked ingenuously.
Krago dropped the forceps in a drawer. “I don't know. I doubt it.”
“Because you are human and I am not,” Thouriss said. “I could kill the tall human and taste his.”
“No, that would be frivolous. Besides, civilized creatures don't eat each other,” said Krago.
“Why?”
“It's not polite.” With a yawn, Krago reached for a thick volume on his shelf and gave it to Thouriss. “Here is a history of the Empire of Ergoth. Read this, and you'll see how civilized beings behave.”
Thouriss eyed the book distastefully. “I am a warrior. I don't like to read.”
“But you must try if you are to grow wiser. And soon you'll have a companion, someone to talk to about everything you learn. No longer will you be alone.”
Thouriss's slit eyes widened. “Tell me her name again?”
“Lyrexis. Your mate's name will be Lyrexis.'
Chapter Nineteen
“I have an idea that our captor is a child,” Riverwind noted. Neither the old man nor the elf girl understood. “He has the mind and moods of a child. Krago is some kind of mentor.”
“Ah!” Catchflea said. “I begin to see!”
“I don't,” Di An complained.
“The reason Thouriss acts the way he does-asking questions about ordinary things, growing angry when questioned; these are the reactions of a child, yes?”
“If you say so. But what does it mean?”
Riverwind surveyed their barren cell. The torchlight from outside was fitful at best. “I'm not sure. Something strange is going on in this place. The lizard folk and their goblin soldiers are not here to build homes and grow crops. But what is their purpose?” Riverwind sat down with his back to the wall. “Catchflea, do you have your acorns?”
“Yes, the guards didn't take them.”
“Consult them. See if you can discover what's brewing here.”
The old man performed his ritual. He shook the gourd and dumped the nuts on the dusty stone floor. “Ha!”
Di An peered over Catchflea's shoulder. “What do you see?”
The old man's face was clouded with strain. “Darkness. Death. The acorns show death marching across the land.”
Riverwind leaned forward. “Our deaths? “
“I'm not certain.” The soothsayer peered closely at the acorns, touching them with one finger.
Riverwind said. “Ask about Krago and his purpose.”
Round and round went the acorns in the gourd. “Ha!” Catchflea exclaimed. He perused the formation of the nuts. “I do not understand,” he said, frowning. “Very strange!”
“What?”
“Here it calls him midwife. Why should it say that?”