Bones of the Dragon - Margaret Weis [144]
“You told me they had storehouses filled with jewels,” Skylan said, frowning. He stopped talking to stare at Raegar, who was wriggling and squirming about in his bonds. “What are you doing?”
“I have a knife in my boot,” said Raegar. “If I can loosen these vines, I think I can reach it. Keep watch. Let me know if anyone’s coming.”
Skylan fixed his gaze on the shadows. He heard Raegar grunting and muttering, and he glanced over his shoulder to see that Raegar had managed to wriggle his body down the trunk. He was reaching for his boot, wiggling his fingers.
“I can’t see the knife!” Raegar gasped. “How close am I?”
The bone hilt protruded from the top of the boot. The knife was small, of the sort used to cut fishing line.
“The breadth of three fingers,” Skylan reported. He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. “Hold still! Someone’s out there!”
Raegar froze.
Skylan stared hard into the shadows. “I guess it was nothing. It’s not there now.”
Raegar started squirming again. Sweat rolled down his face. His back scraped against the tree trunk.
“You’ve almost got it,” Skylan said excitedly.
With a desperate effort, Raegar lunged and managed to touch the knife with his fingertips. Scrunching down a little more, he took hold of the tip with two fingers and his thumb.
“Don’t drop it!” Skylan breathed.
“Shut up!” Raegar hissed. “Keep watch!”
Skylan looked back into the shadows. This time, there was no doubt. “Someone’s coming. That old graybeard!”
“Got it!” Raegar gasped. He palmed the knife and tried hurriedly to wriggle his body back into place.
“What are you going to do to us, Graybeard?” Skylan cried, hoping to distract the druid’s attention away from Raegar.
The druid took his time, approaching them at a leisurely pace. He regarded them mildly. “This night, we will make an offering to appease the spirits who have been angered by your presence,” he said. “You will join us.”
“Not me!” Skylan cried, lunging against his bonds. “Set me free! I’ll fight you and your spirits—”
The druid smiled slightly. “There will be no fighting. As I was about to say, you both will be present to offer your apologies to the spirits for bringing violence to our land.”
“And then what?” Raegar sneered. “You’ll slit our throats?”
“You will be released,” said the druid.
“And what about my men? What about my wife, Draya, the woman who was aboard the dragonship?” Skylan demanded. “What have you done with her?”
“And what about my men and my slaves?” Raegar added angrily. “What have you done with them?”
“I did nothing to anyone. You angered the blessed spirits who guard us. They perceived you as a danger, and they acted to put an end to the threat. I cannot undo what they have done. I will return for you when the moon rises from the sea.”
After the druid had departed, Skylan glanced uneasily about the woods. “The druid said we angered the spirits. Is he saying that these spirits cast the enchantment on my men?”
“Spirits my ass!” Raegar snorted. “He’s lying. It’s that pagan sorcerer who worked foul magicks on your men, and he’s going to do it to us, as well.”
“I’ll fight them all with my bare hands first,” Skylan said grimly.
“If I can free myself, you will have a better weapon than your hands,” Raegar stated, and he began to saw at the vines with his knife.
The going was slow. The vines were sinewy, and there were a great many of them, and Raegar was further hampered by his bonds. He persevered, however, cutting his way through the tangle.
Skylan watched the rays of the Sun Goddess dwindle among the trees. “Moonrise will be early tonight,” he said. “I’ve been thinking. Once we are free, how will we find our way out of this forest? Trails and paths lead everywhere.”
“We’ll wait until one of the pagans comes to fetch us, and then we’ll jump him, take him hostage, and threaten to slit his throat if he doesn’t show us the way,” Raegar replied.
“What if the druid casts one of his enchantments on us?” Skylan asked.
He could face with equanimity the thought of a sword thrust through the gut in battle. The