He was cruel, but Ehlana had encountered cruel men before. After she and Alcan had been hurried through the dank tunnels under the streets of Matherion to the outskirts of the city, they had been roughly shoved into the saddles of waiting horses, bound securely in place, and literally dragged at breakneck speed down the road leading to the port of Micae on the southwestern coast of the peninsula, seventy-five leagues away.
A normal man does not mistreat the animals upon which he is totally dependent. That was the first evidence of Scarpas madness. He drove the horses, flogging them savagely until the poor beasts were staggering with exhaustion, and his only words during those dreadful four days were, Faster! Faster.
Ehlana shuddered as she recalled the horror of that endless ride. They had. Her horse stumbled in the muddy path, and she was jolted forward, bringing her attention back into the immediate present.
The cord which tightly bound her wrists to the saddlebow dug into her flesh, and the bleeding started again. She tried to ease into a different position so that the cord would no longer cut into the already open wounds.
What are you doing? Scarpa demanded. His voice was harsh, and it came out almost as a scream. Scarpa almost always screamed when he was talking to her.
Im just trying to keep the cord from cutting deeper into my wrists, Lord Scarpa, she replied meekly. She had been instructed early in her captivity to address him so and she had quickly found that failure to do so resulted in savage mistreatment of Alcan and the withholding of food and water.
Youre not here to be comfortable, woman! he raged at her. Youre here to obey! I see what youre doing there! If you dont stop trying to loosen those cords, Ill use wire! His eyes bulged, and she saw again that strange, bluish cast to the whites of those eyes and the abnormally large pupils.
Yes, Lord Scarpa, she said in her most submissive tone.
He glared at her, his face filled with suspicion and his mad eyes looking hungrily for some excuse to punish or humiliate his prisoners further. She lowered her gaze to stare fixedly at the rough, muddy track that wound deeper and deeper into the rank, vine-choked forest of the southeast coast of Daresia.
The ship they had boarded at the port of Micae had been a sleek, black-hulled corsair that could not have been built for any honest purpose. She and Alcan had been unceremoniously dragged below decks and confined in a cramped compartment that smelled of the bilges and was totally dark. After they had been two hours at sea, the compartment door had opened and Krager had entered with two swarthy sailors, one carrying what appeared to be a decent meal, and the other, two pails of hot water some soap and a wad of rags for use as towels. Ehlana had resisted an impulse to embrace the fellow.
Im really sorry about all this, Ehlana, Krager had apologized, squinting at her nearsightedly, but I have no control of the situation. Be very careful of what you say to Scarpa. Youve probably noticed that hes not entirely rational. He had looked around nervously, then laid a handful of cheap tallow candles on the rough table and left, chaining the door shut behind him.
They had been five days at sea and had reached Arian, a port city on the edge of the jungles of the southeast coast some time after midnight. Then she and Alcan had been hustled into a closed carriage with the pouchy-eyed Baron Parok at the reins.
During the transfer from the ship to the carriage, Ehlana had discreetly looked at each of her captors, seeking some weakness.
Krager, despite his habitual drunkenness, was too shrewd, and Parok was Scarpas long-time confederate, a man evidently untroubled by his friends madness. Then she had coolly appraised Elron. She had noticed that under no circumstances would the foppish Astellian poet look her in the eye. His apparent murder of Melidere had evidently filled him with remorse.
Elron was a poseur rather than a man of action, and he clearly had no stomach for blood. She had recalled moreover, how vain he had been about his long curls when she had first met him and had wondered what form of duress Scarpa had used to force him to shave his head in order to pose as one of Krings Peloi.
She had surmised that the violation of his hair had raised certain strong resentments in him. Elron was clearly reluctant to participate in this affair, and that made him the weak link. She kept that fact firmly in mind now. The time might come when she could use it to her advantage.
The carriage had carried them from the waterfront to a large house on the outskirts of Arian. It had been there that Scarpa had spoken with a gaunt Styric with the lumpy features characteristic of the men of his race. The Styrics name was Keska, and his eyes had the look of one hopelessly damned.
I dont care about the discomfort! Scarpa had half-shouted to the gaunt man at one point. Time is important, Keska, time! Just do it! As long as it doesnt kill us, we can endure it!
The next morning the significance of that command had become all too obvious. Keska was evidently one of those outcast Styric magicians, but not a very good one. He could, with a great deal of clearly exhausting effort, compress the miles that lay between them and Scarpas intended destination, but only a few miles each time, and the compression was accompanied by a horrid kind of wrenching agony. It seemed almost as if the clumsy magician were jerking them up and hurling them blindly forward with every ounce of his strength, and Ehlana could never be certain after each hideous, bruising jump that she was still intact. She felt torn and battered, but did what she could to conceal her pain from Alcan. The gentle girl with the large eyes wept almost continuously now, overcome by her pain and fear and the misery of their circumstances.
Ehlana drew her mind into the present and looked about warily. It was approaching evening again. The overcast sky was gradually darkening, and the time of day Ehlana dreaded the most would soon be upon them.
Scarpa looked with some scorn at Keska, who slumped in his saddle like a wilted flower, obviously near exhaustion. This is far enough, he said. Set up some kind of camp and get the women down off those horses. His brittle eyes grew bright as he looked Ehlana full in the face. Its time for the bedraggled Queen of the Elenes to beg for her supper again. I do hope shell be more convincing this time. It really distresses me to have to refuse her when her pleas arent sufficiently sincere.
Ehlana, Krager whispered, touching her shoulder. The fire had died down to embers, and Ehlana could hear the sound of snores coming from the other side of their rude camp.
What? she replied shortly.
Keep your voice down. He was still wearing the black leather Peloi jerkin, his shaved head was sparsely stubbled, and his wine-reeking breath was nearly overpowering. Im doing you a favor. Dont put me in danger. I assume you realize by now that Scarpas completely insane?
Really? she replied sardonically. What an amazing thing.
Please dont make this any more difficult. I seem to have made a small error in judgment here. If Id fully realized how deranged that half-Styric bastard is, Id have never agreed to take part in this ridiculous adventure.
What is this strange fascination you have with lunatics, Krager?
He shrugged. Maybe its a character defect. Scarpa actually believes that he can outwit his fatherand even Cyrgon. He doesnt really believe that Sparhawk will surrender Bhelliom in exchange for your return, but hes managed to about half-convince the others. Im sure you realize by now how he feels about women.
Hes demonstrated it often enough, she said bitterly. Does he share Baron Harparins fondness for little boys instead?
Scarpa isnt fond of anything except himself. He is his only passion. Ive seen him spend hours trimming that beard of his. It gives him the opportunity to adore his reflection in the mirror. You havent had the opportunity to see his delightful personality in full flower. The details of this trip are keeping what he chooses to call his mind occupied. Wait until we get to Natayos and you hear him start raving. He makes Martel and Annias seem like the very souls of sanity by comparison. I dont dare stay too long, so listen closely. Scarpa believes that Sparhawk will bring Bhelliom with him when he comes right enough, but he doesnt believe hell bring it to trade for you. Scarpas absolutely certain that your husbands coming in order to have it out with Cyrgon, and he believes that theyll destroy each other in the course of the argument.
Sparhawk has Bhelliom, you fool, and Bhelliom eats Gods for breakfast.
Im not here to argue about that. Maybe Sparhawk will win, and maybe he wont. Thats really beside the point. Whats important to us is what Scarpa believes. Hes convinced himself that Sparhawk and Cyrgon will fight a war of mutual extinction. Then he thinks that Bhelliom will be left lying around free for the taking.
What about Zalasta?
I get the strong feeling that Scarpa doesnt expect Zalasta to be around when the fights over. Scarpas more than willing to kill anybody who gets in his way.
Hed kill his own father?
Krager shrugged. Blood ties dont mean anything to Scarpa. When he was younger, he decided that his mother and his half-sisters knew things about him that he didnt want them to share with the authorities, so he killed them. He hated them anyway, so that may not mean all that much. If Sparhawk and Cyrgon do kill each other, and if Zalastas broken out in a sudden rash of mortality during the festivities, Scarpa might just be the only one left around to take possession of the Bhelliom. Hes got an army in these jungles, and if he has the Bhelliom as well, he might be able to pull it off. Hell march on Matherion, take the city and slaughter the government. Then hell crown himself emperor. Im personally betting against it, though, so for Gods sake keep your temper under control. Youre not really important to his plans, but youre vital to Zalastasand mine. If you do anything at all to set Scarpa off, hell kill you as quickly as he ordered Elron to kill your lady-in-waiting. Zalasta and I believe that Sparhawk will trade Bhelliom for you, but only if youre alive. Dont enrage that maniac. If he kills you, all our plans will collapse.