Farmers & Mercenaries (38 page)

T
he strong smell of urine snapped Klain from the fog of semi-consciousness. A pounding reverberated through his skull and a swollen tongue filled his mouth. Flopping his head to the side, he pried his eyes open and glanced around. At first, his vision would not clear, nor could his brain discern anything distinct from the blurry images he saw.

Shadows in motion.

“All be in readiness, Master Jerts.” The voice seemed distant.

“What did you tell the Captain of our cargo?” This voice was snide and curt. Klain tried to pull up a face in his mind and failed.

Why can I not think?

“I did tell the truth.” A grunt of a laugh. “That we carry a wild beast and be bound for Silaway.”

A silky blanket of soft blackness swept Klain’s remaining thoughts away and he floated weightless, almost enjoying the sensation.

Once consciousness crept upon Klain again, darkness enveloped the room. His head still pounded, though not as severe. The strong smell of urine was still present, and he realized that it was he that reeked so.

My fur is coated in piss.

Pushing himself into a sitting position, he looked around. He sat in a small, iron-barred cage. Beyond the bars, boxes stood in irregular stacks covering most of the large open room. Cracks in the walls permitted light to seep in, yet Klain could not hope to know how long the sun had been up.

Nor even how many days have passed since they put me here!

The cage was not tall enough for him to stand, nor the bars wide enough for him to extend his limbs through, so he sat there, knees against his chest and his muscles cramping.

Watching the slivers of sunlight creep across the floor, Klain took advantage of being left alone to clear the cobwebs that still clung to his mind.

I must still be in Mocley. The whole thing was a setup! I will kill Satner Timms if
it is the last thing I do!

“Master Klain.” The whisper came out of the darkness, sending a shiver down Klain’s spine.

No!

“Young Master!” His words came out more of a croak than anything. “You cannot be here!” Twisting around in his cramped cage, Klain saw Charver slinking between some boxes not ten paces away. Even though Klain could see the boy clearly in the dim light, it was obvious Charver had not yet seen him. “Why are you here?”

Charver’s eyes lit up when he spied Klain, and he hurried to the side of the cage. “When you did not return last eve, I worried. When Narn came back to the villa without you, I knew something was wrong. I overheard him tell Master Timms that everything had gone to plan and that some man had taken you.”

Baring his fangs, Klain stifled a growl. “Aye! Alas, why are you here?”

“When Master Timms left this morn, I followed him. It was not easy out on the open road. Yet, it was not that difficult to keep pace with him unnoticed on the crowded streets of Mocley.”

Klain could not stop the growl that came from him. Grasping the bars, he glared at Charver. “Boy! Why are you here?”

Charver looked taken aback. “Why? To rescue you, of course!”

Letting out a snort, Klain shook his head. “You cannot be here! Go now! Putting yourself in danger to save me is not what your father hired me for!”

The dull sound of wood sliding over wood echoed throughout the building. A door creaked opened, and for the first time in many moons, fear crept into Klain. “Shh! Hide and say nothing. When you have the opportunity, you get out of here and back home.”

The boy tried to say something and Klain cut him off with a wave of his paw. “Not a sound!” Slumping back into a sitting position, he rested his arms on his knees and hung his head low. Not so low, however, that he could not look out at the warehouse. There were too many boxes in the way for him to see exactly where the door sat or who had opened it, yet he easily heard the booted footsteps of four or so men walking his way.

“You have done me a great service, Master Timms.”

Klain felt his hackles rise.

Timms! And I clearly recognize the voice of Estular Jerts!

Within moments, Estular Jerts, his old Keeper, another scruffy Human Klain did not recognize, and Satner Timms stepped into the small cleared area in front of Klain’s cage. The painstick his old Keeper held did not go unnoticed. Upon seeing Klain, Satner halted and spun on the other men. “Why have you brought me here?”

Smiling his greasy grin, Estular waved his hand in a flourished, over exaggerated manner. “I assumed you might like to say goodbye to the beast.”

Glaring at the cage, his jaws clinching and flexing, Satner looked almost remorseful.

Remorseful he is not the one who will get to kill me, mayhaps.

“What will become of him?”

“The beast? Oh, it is destined for great things. The Games are just becoming popular in my home country of Silaway. I should be able to turn quite a large profit before it is finally killed.”

Ripping his eyes from Klain, Satner turned to Estular and held out a hand. “Just give me my coin and I will be gone!”

This made Estular laugh. “It seems you do not have the stomach for this, Master Timms.”

When Satner did not lower his hand, Estular let out an exasperated sigh. “Oh, aye. Very well. Alas, you take all the fun out of this.” Reaching to his belt, he unhooked a small leather pouch and handed it to Satner.

Klain’s heart sank as Charver stood and darted around his cage. “I cannot believe you would stoop so low,
Master Timms
!” The boy stood defiant, hands upon his hips.

“Young Master! What are you doing here?” Satner sounded both enraged and horrified all at once.

“I came to rescue Master Klain! I—Hey, let me go!”

With a flick of the wrist, Estular had motioned the scruffy Human to grab Charver. The boy wiggled and kicked, yet the wiry man held tight. Klain growled and Satner lunged forward. “Hands off the boy!”

“My dear, Master Timms.” Estular sauntered over to Charver and ran a hand through the boy’s hair. “The boy has seen us. It is obvious we will not be able to buy his silence. He must hold some affection for the beast.”

“That matters not! Our bargain was for the Kith. You will let the boy go, now!” Letting his hand stray to the hilt of his sword, Satner fell into a defensive stance.

Snorting, Estular slowly shook his head. “It seems I was right. You really do not have the stomach for this. Mayhaps you should stick to bodyguarding. I cannot let the boy leave.”

Drawing his sword from its scabbard, Satner screamed as the Keeper smacked him in the back with the painstick. The man, flung forward by the blow, slammed into a stack of boxes. He landed in a heap on the warehouse floor.

“Kill the boy. Kill that fool as well.” Estular pointed to where Satner lay. “Then, get the beast ready to load on the ship. I want to be away from this accursed city!” Turning, Estular stormed away.

The metallic hiss of a small blade sounded. Realizing that the Human holding onto Charver had drawn forth a thin knife from his belt, Klain roared and viciously slammed himself against the cage door. The tiny cage shook and slid across the floor a little, causing the man holding Charver to recoil and drop his blade.

“That be enough out of you!” The Keeper strode over and jabbed the painstick between the bars.

When the black onyx rod touched him, Klain screamed out in pain and his stomach convulsed. If he had had any food in his gut, it would have come up. In a blind rage, Klain flung himself once more against the door. Bursting from its hinges, the iron door slammed against the Keeper, sending the man crashing to the ground. Spilling out onto the warehouse floor, Klain was momentarily stunned to find himself free. The scent of Charver wafted from his left and Klain spun. The scruffy Human still held the boy by one arm, a thick shortsword in his other.

This one stinks of fear more than any Human I have ever smelled!

Rising to his full height, Klain towered over the man by head and shoulders. Barely a pace separated the two. Exposing his fangs, a low growl rumbled from him, and the man’s sword began to quiver.

The Human placed the tip of the blade against Charver’s neck. “I swear by all Twelve, I will kill—”

Uncoiling his muscles like springs, Klain did not wait for the man to finish his words.

His last words.

Closing the distance between them in a blink, his sharp claws caught the man’s throat, ripping flesh and tendons alike. A shower of blood sprayed into the dimness beyond. The force of Klain’s blow lifted the man from his feet and sent his body flipping through the air. He landed with a dull thud, his sword clattering across the floor.

Rending pain slashed through Klain’s spine and drove him to his knees in front of the boy. Reaching out, he shoved Charver deeper into the warehouse. “Run!” Spinning on his attacker, the Keeper stood before him, painstick clutched in his meaty knuckles. Estular was at his side, a thin rapier in his hand.

“Aye, beastie. You do remember this painstick, do you no?” Reaching into a pouch at his side, the Keeper withdrew a small stone that matched the onyx of the staff. Placing the stone against the handle, he stroked it down the stick’s length. A hiss, like the rasping of a sword against a sharpening stone, echoed through the warehouse. “And I do bet you remember what max foci feels like.” The onyx staff crackled with energy as the Keeper waved it in the air in front of Klain. “Now, let us be a good little beastie and get back in your cage.”

Anger boiled inside Klain. Hate, disgust, rage and loathing. He allowed all of it to pour into himself—to fill him to the brim with raw, animalistic emotion. Feasting on its pureness. He lunged. The painstick caught him square in his chest. All vision left him and darkness filled his eyes. He knew he lay on the ground—knew he could not overcome the pain that gripped him in its tight embrace.

Forcing himself to his knees, he looked back at the two Humans and struggled to rise. The Keeper swung the staff in an arc aimed at Klain’s head. Catching the painstick with his paw, pure agony of burning jolts shot down his arm and into his chest. His jaw slammed shut and a high-pitched screech echoed throughout the room.

Still, Klain did not let go—refused to let go. Sparks arced between his fingers and the smell of burning fur tickled his nostrils. Using the painstick as a support, he pulled himself to his hindpaws. The pain intensified by multitudes the longer he held it.

The Keeper’s eyes bulged wide with fear at the sight.

Klain’s wails of agony continued to ripple forth from his throat.

Striding forward, Estular stabbed Klain in the chest with his rapier. As the blade buried itself easily into his hide, Estular jerked violently and flew back, as the power of the painstick flowed up his sword and into him.

With Estular’s blade still in his chest, Klain knew he was already dead. Yet the pain from the onyx staff blotted out all other feelings. Drawing out one last pulse of strength, Klain jerked hard on the painstick, wrenching it toward him as he did. It tore from the Keepers hands, pulling the Human forward and to his knees at Klain’s hindpaws. The worst of the pain dissipated, and Klain stood there, his body shaking uncontrollably, staring down at his old Keeper.

Lunging forward, the Keeper reached up and grabbed the hilt of Estular’s sword that protruded from Klain’s chest and twisted it.

Klain roared at the new found pain. He spun the onyx staff he still held in his paw and rammed its tip with all his might into the Keepers face. The staff penetrated the man’s eye and bore through and out the back of his skull. Sparks from the painstick arced up and away, trailed by a splatter of blood in their wake. The man jerked once, and a few tendrils of smoke issued from the now inactive painstick. Klain let the Keeper’s body slump to the floor.

Feet scuffed the floor behind him and Klain spun to see Charver emerge from the shadows. “Master Timms has fled.”

Grunting, Klain looked down at the sword sticking from his chest. Gripping the hilt, he withdrew the blade from its resting place, his fur soaking up the blood that now flowed freely from the wound. He staggered.

A low moan caught Klain’s attention. Limping over to Estular, he reached down and picked his former master up by the front of his brightly colored tunic. The man regained consciousness just as Klain raised him to eye level. Gazing into the Human’s eyes, Klain looked for something, anything in them he could connect with. Estular simply let out a wail of despair.

“Do not kill him.” Charver’s voice rang out from behind them.

Klain did not take his eyes from Estular. “Why should I not?”

“That will make you just as bad as he. Do you not want to be better?”

“I
am
better than this piece of dung
Human
.” Jerking his arm back, Klain rammed the rapier into Estular’s chest, piercing his heart. Estular did not have the chance to scream. His body simply shuddered once as the blade struck home, then went limp in Klain’s grasp. Letting the body fall to the floor, he turned and looked down at Charver. “I am better because I am a
Kithian
!”