Darkspell - Katharine Kerr [171]
“I’ll wager the Old One suspected somewhat of the sort,” said the second. “He never tells a man all his thoughts.”
“It may be, at that.” He kicked Sarcyn hard on the side of the head. “But you’ll pay, little one, and slowly, after you’ve told the masters everything you know. We’ve lost one of our own men because of the opal, you know. You’ll pay for that as well.”
Although the world danced like fire from the blow, Sarcyn bit his lip hard and kept from crying out. Even though fear was making him tremble, he swore himself a solemn vow: he would tell them nothing at all, no matter how cleverly they tortured him, because he would get no mercy from them even if he obeyed them. As the Hawks went to get their horses, hidden somewhere in the trees, he shrank into himself and clung to his will. It was all he had left, his ability to concentrate his will and drive himself with it. He forced the fear away, stopped trembling, and lay as limply as a netted deer while he stared into the fire.
Although Nevyn returned round noon, Jill had no chance to talk with him until sunset, because the dweomerman worked on Camdel all afternoon, washing and treating his various wounds as well as soothing his mind. After dinner he sent a page to fetch her to his chamber, where the last blaze of light poured in the window. Jill sat down on a chest while he paced restlessly back and forth.
“How’s Camdel?” she asked.
“Sound asleep, the gods be thanked. I had him tell me some of what’s happened to him, but I made sure he won’t remember doing so. He’s too weak to face his memories just now.”
“No doubt. Why did they—well, use him like that?”
He cocked his head to one side and considered her in an oddly sly way.
“By rights, I shouldn’t tell you,” he said at last. “Besides, I thought all this talk of dweomer ached your heart.”
“Oh, Nevyn, don’t tease!”
“Very well, then. Well, when two people bed down together, a certain amount of a substance called magnetic effluent is given off. I know you don’t know what that is, and I’m not going to explain it further to someone without more knowledge, so take what I say on faith. This effluent has many a peculiar property, but it’s basically a kind of life stuff. It’s also present in blood. Now, the dark dweomermen are trained in ways of sucking up the effluent if it’s present and using it to restore their own vitality. When his apprentice was using Camdel, Alastyr was basically feeding off their lust.”
Jill felt sick to her stomach.
“Disgusting, isn’t it?” Nevyn remarked. “Now, here, though—that reminds me of somewhat. The apprentice—Sarcyn his name is, or so Camdel told me—did escape. You and Rhodry are going to have to be very careful when you ride out.”
“I’ve been brooding over that all day, truly.”
“I’m planning on hunting him down, or I’d insist that you two stay with Blaen, no matter how shamed it makes Rhodry feel. As it is, he’s fairly weak, and he has worse enemies than me.”
“Who?”
“Remember the man who poisoned himself in Ogwern’s chambers?”
“Oh, ye gods! Didn’t you say that there were more like him?”
“I did, and thanks be to every god, I expect they’ll be too busy with this Sarcyn fellow to worry about revenging themselves on you. Still, stay on guard. Sarcyn’s got a head start on me, and of course, I can’t scry him out. I’ve never laid eyes on him in the flesh.”
As soon as Jill had her idea, it seemed obvious, except that she had no idea of how she knew what she did. She sat very still, thinking it over, feeling her fear grow, not only a fear of Sarcyn, but of deliberately and coldly using the dweomer. If she voiced her idea, she knew she would be taking the first step on a very strange road. Or was it truly only the first step? Somewhat puzzled, Nevyn watched her until, at last, she made her decision.
“I’ve seen him in the flesh,” she said.