“Now, look, Thella,” the spokesman protested. “You didn’t say nothin’ about savaging anybody! I don’t hold with—” There was a loud and sickening gasp, and then a silence more telling than any words.
“I trust that answers any question?” Thella challenged, her voice edged despite a mockingly light tone. “Bloors, your leg may be sliced, but you’ve two good arms. Take this club, and when anyone so much as twitches, you clout ‘em good. Just behind the ear! Got it? If I find that one of them has moved so much as a muscle when I get back, I’ll hamstring you. You, pick up that rope. You, the nets, to wrap our guests up in. You others, grab some of those spears. Those should do for the canines. Now, follow me.”
Jayge tried to figure out how many men Thella had with her. He knew that he had sunk the longer knife in someone’s belly and blooded some of the others who had pressed in on him. Piemur had made good use of that jungle blade of his before he had been overcome. He heard the grate and grind of sand underfoot and cracked his eyes a bare fraction to count four sets of feet going past him, flicking sand in his face. Thella’s voice went off to his right, down past Temma’s and Swacky’s holds and toward the warehouse. Jancis? Had it been she who had loosed the canines?
More sand spattered across his face. He was aware of a fetid odor—blood, stale sweat, and fish oils—and something looming over him. He almost winced as a club prodded him experimentally. This Bloors took his duty seriously. In the distance Jayge could hear Thella directing the search of the ruins. Let her! Aramina would have made for the woods and most likely headed for the great fellis trees that stood in a grove beyond the first thickets. If Ara could hide in one of the great densely leaved trees—and keep the children quiet—Thella could be searching a long time. Long enough, he hoped, for him to somehow free himself and overcome the one guard.
Bloors had stopped moving, but Jayge could hear sounds that suggested that the man was evidently settling himself on the verandah steps. He strained against painfully tight bonds and pumped up his chest, despite sore ribs, to try to loosen the ropes binding his arms to his sides. His wrists were secured behind his back, and his ankles were so constricted that he could barely feel his feet. Grimly he twisted his wrists, seeking any slack in the ropes, while he listened to Thella banging about in the warehouse, looking for any sign of the fugitives.
As he carefully worked his wrists, he became conscious of other silences. There were no canine sounds, not a single whine, bark, or growl. The beasts could all have been killed, but reviewing the comments he had overheard, Jayge thought that some had survived to protect Aramina. Most conspicuous was the absence of fire-lizards. His were not as well trained as Piemur’s, but they, too, had been present during the fight, diving at the invaders, scratching and biting. With Bloors on guard, he could not risk calling to them. Besides, Piemur was the only person they knew to go to with messages. Where was Piemur’s Farli? The harper claimed that his queen showed more initiative than most. Was she off trying to rouse help? If only Bloors could be gotten out of the way, perhaps Jayge could get his fire-lizards to bite through the cords around him.
Where was Farli likely to go for help? To V’line and Clarinath? Brief hope encouraged Jayge. The sight of V’line and his bronze might be enough to send Bloors scarpering off, if only to warn Thella. Once Jayge was free, he would settle Thella for once and for all. He was consumed with the desire to feel his sword slide into her belly, to hear that arrogant voice beg for mercy.
A comforting thought, but it brought no slack to his bindings—the constriction was slowly taking all feeling from his fingers. His dry throat began to tickle, but he dared not cough. He pushed the sand from his mouth, holding on to a small shell, which he sucked to encourage salivation. Someone beside him groaned and stirred in the sand, and Bloors applied the club.
How many such blows could a skull absorb without permanent damage? Jayge wondered desperately.
He heard some distant shouting and crashing—and still no canine growls. Thella had a huge area to search. If Ara could manage to keep the children quiet…
There was another thunk of club against flesh. Something heavy and damp fell across Jayge’s back, forcing a gasp from him.
“Easy!” a quiet voice cautioned.
“V’line?”
“K’van.” The bronze rider was already sawing at Jayge’s bonds. “Aramina yelled—a good knack to rediscover at a moment of crisis. Heth responded. I can see why. Did Thella leave only the one guard?”
“Yes. She took the rest off to hunt Aramina and the children. I don’t know how many she has. K’van, I don’t need to remind you how dangerous Thella is.”
“No, you don’t.” K’van cut the final strand and turned Jayge over. As blood rushed into starved tissues, Jayge gasped and writhed with pain. K’van massaged his limbs to help encourage circulation. “Easy now. It’ll be awhile before Thella realizes her quarry is well away.” He helped Jayge to his feet. “Stamp your feet.” Then he projected his voice cautiously toward the hold. “It’s all right, Mina. Get some of that rotgut Jayge makes. He needs it and so will the others.”
“You rescued Ara?” Jayge reeled more from relief than physical weakness. K’van steadied him, eyes twinkling.
“Plucked her out of the trees this time—her, Jancis, and the two children. Had to leave the canines behind.” He began tying up the gagged and unconscious Bloors.
Jayge shook his head at the dragonrider’s levity. “Look, K’van, ask Heth to contact Ramoth and Mnementh. They’ll want to know…” Jayge’s stiff, thick hands refused to close on the dagger in Bloors’ belt.
“I expect they will, but as Benden Weyr’s fighting Threadfall, Heth can’t bespeak them yet.”
“Then call up your own Weyr!”
K’van gave him a long, measuring look. “You know I can’t do that, Jayge.”
“I don’t understand you, K’van. I thought you were our friend, and now when we really need your help…”
“I’ve already done more than I should,” K’van said, a trace of impatience in his tone as he bent to cut Temma loose.
Jayge had no chance to argue with him, for at that moment Aramina came running down the steps and into his arms. The skinful of spirits banged against his sore ribs. His embrace was perfunctory as he was still seething at K’van’s unwillingness to help more. Then he saw Jancis, carrying Janara on one arm while Readis clutched her skirt, and he had to reassure the children, as well.
“Jancis, that was quick thinking, to free the canines then,” he said fervently.
“Seemed the logical thing to do,” she said, shrugging off his praise. Placing Janara on the ground, she knelt by Piemur, who was pallid under his deep tan.” Awful woman! Isn’t she the one Telgar and Lemos were hunting so earnestly? Well, drink up and then hand the wineskin to me, will you, Jayge? I don’t like Piemur’s color.”
Jayge obeyed and found that a long swig of the strong spirits proved to be a powerful restorative.
“Temma could use some as well,” K’van said, helping the groggy woman to a sitting position. Aramina gently began to rub the older woman’s red and swollen wrists and ankles. The two children, still subdued by their experiences, stood close together, wide-eyed, watching the adults.
“Free Swacky, Jayge,” K’van suggested, ignoring the furious look Jayge shot him as he cut Nazer’s bonds.
“If you’d only send for a wing, K’van, or even a few more riders…”