Happy to,
Adongo’s smooth, deep voice replied.
‘I won’t be removing his shackles,’ the sailor said loudly, shoving Adongo towards Tor and Ryk.
‘I understand. It won’t be necessary anyway,’ Tor said. ‘However, if you value your life, I would recommend you don’t tarry. If this boy so much as sneezes on you or even near you, you could suffer a similar fate.’
The man looked horrified.
‘I am hardly likely to escape, but you can chain me to that tent pole if you want,’ Tor said.
‘How come you won’t get sick then?’
‘Because I have been exposed to this before and I did not become unwell. I must be safe from this disease. Many people are but we don’t understand
why. You may also be immune, but then again you may not be so fortunate. Take your chance, Beryd…is that your name?’
The senior man nodded. But he was persistent; he gestured towards the slave. Tor picked up on his thought and answered the question before it was asked. ‘And I’m presuming that he just doesn’t matter.’
Beryd grimaced. ‘Yes, he does. He is leader of his tribe. He will fetch a good price at Cipres.’
Tor needed to get him out of the tent. ‘Well, leave us both shackled and remain outside. I’ll call you once the fever breaks. When that happens, we will all be safe,’ he lied again. Beryd clearly needed pushing. ‘Or you can take your chance. Victims eventually bleed to death from the nostrils, eyes, ears, cock, arse.’
The colour paled from Beryd’s face and he yelled out an order to his mate. Tor and Adongo were quickly shackled to the post; Adongo remained manacled but Tor’s hands were left free, although the chains on his legs were so short his captors knew he could not reach beyond the round tent.
‘We’ll be outside,’ Beryd said, covering his mouth and nose.
Tor nodded and busied himself with showing Adongo how to press the damp linens to Ryk’s body.
To their unbelievable good fortune, Ryk stirred at this moment and gave a half sneeze before sliding back into his feverish stupor.
Beryd and Bluth fled.
Thank you for coming,
Tor said.
I’m not sure I had any choice.
No, I mean for re-emerging.
So do I,
the man said evenly,
though I am not your bonded Paladin.
I realise this. Do you know who is?
I’ll know when I meet them,
he said cryptically.
Has Lys given you a name?
Only that the person is young,
Adongo said, avoiding the question.
Tor noticed the man’s deliberate vagueness. He would not push it. They could discover more about each other later.
Do you know who I am?
Tor asked, hating the pomposity of the question.
You are the One.
I prefer you did not think of me that way.
We all have our part to play. I am Paladin. You are He.
Tor sighed. It was useless arguing the point further.
Adongo, why did you warn me to hide my powers?
The man grinned.
These sailing men are scared of enchantments. They kill anyone whom they suspect of aiming magic at them. My race call it ‘fra-fra’—these men are scared of our beliefs, our culture, our magicks.
And in Cipres?
I have never been there,
Adongo said, looking at his chains.
Of course, I’m sorry. Where did they capture you?
Many leagues away. We are a nomadic people but the pirates know our traditional routes. They come with fire and arrows and slaughter our brangos, burn our tents. They killed my woman…my twin daughters.
He smiled sadly at Tor
. But they cannot kill my memory of them.
Tor had nothing to say which could offer any comfort. Adongo’s dignity reminded him of Cloot. The chieftain noticed his companion’s awkwardness.
You did not bring this grief upon me, and if it had not happened, I would not be able to fulfil my destiny as Paladin. I accept my lot.
You shouldn’t have to.
Tor’s bright blue eyes blazed his anger. At that instant, he could have throttled Lys and her brutal manipulations.
The man shrugged.
Our life as Paladin is all about sacrifice. As I said, I don’t believe I have a choice. Their deaths were swift. They felt nothing. Only I felt pain and I am grateful for that mercy. But let us not dwell on it. Please…the child,
he pointed to Ryk.
He is remote from us,
Tor answered, embarrassed by his own relief at moving on from Adongo’s suffering.
Ryk is in shock. I sense he’s still with us but he will die if he does not return to his senses quickly. The fever I can stop but I have to find Ryk’s spirit and bring him back to himself.
The man nodded.
What can we do?
It’s dangerous. I don’t even know if it’s possible. I want us to link and then you must anchor me to that link inside you. I shall send myself into Ryk and see if I can find him.
Adongo’s eyes widened with surprise.
It is not a reasonable plan.
Tor grinned. Why did everyone always hate his plans?
It’s the only one I’ve got.
The swarthy man shook his head.
Too dangerous. I cannot.
Are you frightened?
Not for me,
he said abruptly.
For you. I am not permitted to allow such risk.
Then I shall have to take the risk without you, Adongo. Pity, I could use your strength.
This was unfair of Tor and he knew it but he had no choice. Ryk must live.
Just keep an eye on the guards for me then.
Adongo stretched out his hand to hold Tor’s arm.
Wait. I will help.
The Moruk would never know how grateful Tor felt at that moment for he really had no idea of how to carry out this complex task. Wasting no time, he locked onto the link and cleared his mind.
The man twitched a grim smile. Tor looked at him questioningly.
This reminds me of when we did battle with Orlac,
Adongo said, kneeling beside Ryk.
We would hold each other’s minds as safely as we could, like this, and still our combined strength was not enough.
It was a chilling statement.
Tor laid his hands on Ryk once again, summoned the Colours and felt himself disappear.
He found Ryk cringing. The boy screamed out when he felt someone so near. Adongo too heard the shriek and strengthened his hold on Tor via the link. He resisted the urge to peek towards the tent flap; he would hear the sailors before they entered.
Hush, Ryk,
Tor soothed.
It is only I.
The lad was confused and his terror stopped him being able to sort out his thoughts or even realise that Tor was there with him…inside.
You must follow me now, Ryk.
I’m frightened. He’ll chop my hand off and feed me to the giant eels.
Ryk.
Tor’s voice was firm.
Yes?
It was only a whisper. He pushed on.
Captain Blackhand is dead.
The Wasp
is sunk. And you are lost. If you follow me now, I can take you back to where we need to be. Do you understand?
The lengthy pause troubled Tor. He wondered how long Adongo could keep him safe like this.
Ryk, do you hear me?
He’s dead? We’re not drowned?
We’re alive. In a spot of bother, but we can handle it. First, we need to be together…and awake. Will you follow me? I promise I will not allow anyone to harm you.
What about the bother?
So he was paying attention. Good lad.
I could use your help with it, to be honest.
Ryk allowed Tor to take his hand and lead him back to consciousness. As Tor re-entered his own
body, Adongo’s eyes snapped open at the sound of the tent flap. Haryd came striding in, his henchmen following.
Adongo was still holding a damp linen and had the presence of mind to dutifully hold it out to Tor, who was breathing hard as he recollected himself.
Take it…Go through the motions,
Adongo hissed across the link.
Tor sighed, stretched his back as though he had been on bended knees over the child for too long and casually looked up as Haryd arrived. He laid the towel on Ryk’s forehead. He felt dizzy with the effort of appearing normal.
‘Why do you need this slave?’ Haryd barked.
Tor shot a look at Ryk and noticed his face was twitching and his eyes were fluttering behind their lids. The boy was back. He was asleep but safe and healing. Now, he must deal with the angry sailor. He stood with effort, careful to keep his eyes lowered as instructed and also mindful of showing Haryd that he was still chained.
Adongo remained still and silent on his knees.
‘I have given the child a sleeping draught which will help lower his fever, sir. I believe, with some care, he will pull through for you.’
‘So, we’ve learned some humility have we, mighty physic?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Tor mumbled, wanting to unleash the Colours which were still sparking inside him.
‘But you didn’t answer my question, slave.’
Tor had to think what it was. He needed rest.
Explain what I am doing here,
Adongo hissed.
Tor grasped at various thoughts which drifted across his mind. ‘Sir, I told your men that Ryk here is extremely ill with a disease which could be fatal to others. My apologies, I was wrong. He does, however, need to be kept moving constantly through this night or he will succumb. I am hoping that between the Moruk and myself we can keep him on his feet and not trouble your men…sir.’ His eyes flicked to Haryd and back to the ground.
‘I can’t imagine why you’d care about my men’s sleep, Gynt, but you are right about the fact that I don’t care about you, this Moruk here, or this child. However, if he can be saved, he may turn out to be useful. So continue. Tomorrow we march.’
He turned to leave, his whip twitching. ‘Oh, and Gynt—I won’t be needing the whore tonight. I’m tired. He will be brought here for you to attend to.’ Haryd smirked.
‘Thank you, sir,’ was all Tor could bring himself to say as they left.
He must have collapsed, for he felt himself being shaken. It was actually the noise of the chains clanking together which caught his attention, then everything else began to fall back into place and he found himself looking into the concerned face of Adongo.
What happened?
he asked.
I know not. You are weakened by the boy’s healing, I imagine.
Ryk. How is he?
Tor held his own head as he moved into a sitting position, cautiously for fear of the dizziness.
See for yourself,
Adongo suggested.
Tor looked over into the corner and saw Ryk curled up in a natural state of deep sleep.
He even spoke. Said to thank you for finding him, for bringing him back.
I’m surprised he could remember anything,
Tor replied, closing his eyes again.
He may not recall any of it when he wakes truly. But he will be fine. There is no fever. His colour is normal. If he is permitted to sleep today he should be recovered in time for the march,
Adongo confirmed.
Ah, the march. How long will it take?
I would guess three days.
Adongo, are you able to reach my sack?
The Moruk passed the bag to Tor, who still felt too queasy to move. He remembered seeing a small vial in it when he first looked at the contents on the day he left the Heartwood.
He opened his eyes to slits and searched for the small glass tube. His fingers found it; he desperately hoped it contained what he suspected it may. Pulling out the cork stopper he smelled the liquid and was instantly reminded of the dingy room at The Empty Goblet where he had once performed an amazing healing on a man who was now a falcon.
‘Cloot,’ he whispered sadly. ‘Where are you?’
Tor sipped the clear liquid and the arraq slipped down his throat. Its effect was immediate; suddenly Tor felt as though he had slept for days. Strength returned to his body and his head cleared. He sipped again, remembering what Dr Freyberg had said about not taking too much at once. After a final slow sip, he returned the vial to the sack.
That is some potion,
Adongo commented, amused and impressed.
A simply berry, tiny and rare,
Tor said, recalling Freyberg’s description.
They bloom only during Thaw and for a short season. The raw berries are poisonous—just a few drops of the juice can paralyse and a berry or two can kill—but if you boil them down to a syrup, you get this revitalising liquor. I am amazed that the same vial I was given many years ago, and had forgotten about, is now to be found in this sack.
Tor shook his head with wonder.
The Heartwood provides.
He changed the subject.
Adongo, how is it we can use the link?
he said, standing and stretching, amazed at his own fresh vigour.
The Moruk considered this for a moment.
Though I was the Fifth to fall, I was the first to be recruited to the Paladin. I believe I opened the original mindlink between us when we were assembled. Perhaps this was a special quality given to me, which may be why I can link with you.
Tor nodded. It seemed feasible.
One day we will return to the Heartwood and you will be able to talk with all of your Paladin companions. It is the most magical of places.
Adongo’s face lit up with a smile.
I shall look forward to returning there with you, Tor.
They had no time to enjoy this thought. Footsteps warned them before the flap of the tent was ripped back. It was Beryd.
‘Is it safe?’ he barked.
‘I think so,’ Tor said, pretending not to be sure.
‘The Moruk must be returned,’ he said, striding in with two others. He addressed Adongo in the pidgin language Tor had heard earlier and the chieftain quietly stood for his chains to be removed from the central post.