Viperhand - Douglas Niles [110]
"… think you know what I desire," he said, his thin smile displaying his gap-toothed gums.
Erix saw the sharp dagger in his hand. "Did Cordell order you to do this?" she asked calmly.
Alvarro sneered. "He doesn't know. But you won't be able to warn him, either. Nothing that happens in here will be heard outside."
Her mind whirling, Erixitl tried to think of a plan, a counter to this beast's approach. He advanced smugly. "Hal's wench-and a mighty proud thing you are," he chuckled. He swaggered closer, confident.
No sounds, he had told her. Erix didn't understand how, but she suspected this meant that he had help from the elf wizard. Her mind flashed back to her immediate problem, Alvarro. She remembered the man from the feast at Palul. The man had swilled octal as if the drink was the nectar of life itself.
"Why should I make a sound?" she inquired, trying to keep the terror from her voice. Her eyes falling on the jugs along the wall, she lifted one. "Here. First you want a drink, I know."
The captain blinked, surprised at her lack of fear. He snatched the jug and sniffed it suspiciously. "Sure, I'll drink," he grunted, raising the flask and guzzling the fiery stuff. It ran from his lips, soaking his red beard and dripping to the floor.
Overhead, the sunlight on the wall began to fade. Erixitl turned her back on the man, sickened by the sight of him, desperate for escape. She had so little time, but what could she do?
She still had her token, inside of her dress, but while it might stop Darien's mightiest magics, it offered little protection against a crude approach such as Alvarro's. The pouch on her belt chafed her hip as she turned back. Her only other possession, it held only the little glass vial of potion.
The potion she had feared to allow Halloran to drink. She still remembered the shadowy explosion of black terror she had seen when he raised it to his mouth.
Alvarro smacked his lips, lowering the empty jug. "You're a pretty one, d'you know that? I bet you do things for Halloran!"
Her stomach churned as he looked her up and down. He took a step closer.
"Y'know, if you do those things for me, I just might not kill you," he lied. He reached a burly paw to her shoulder, and Erix turned slowly away, forcing herself not to strike him. She knew the stocky horseman could easily overpower her if she gave him cause to attack.
Her hand fell on the pouch, and she slipped the bottle out. She sensed it burning against her hand-a vile and dangerous thing, it was. Roughly he spun her around to face him, his mouth a few inches from her own.
"I-I give him octal" she said, trying to be calm through her terror. "He can drink very much. It-it gives him great pleasure!"
With false lightness, she turned away, snatching up another jug. A quick gesture dumped the contents of the vial into the octal before she whirled back to Alvarro. "Here-I can do the same for you!"
Her heart pounded as the man brushed the jug aside. "I can have that anytime," he grunted. "I want something a little more special."
Until she felt the wall at her back, Erix was unaware that she had been backing slowly away. Now she stood, trapped by one of Alvarro's arms on either side of her. She still held the jug in her hand and smelted the sweet reek of octal on his breath.
"Come. Can we sit?" she said, slowly and carefully. She must not arouse his suspicions!
Scowling, Alvarro nevertheless allowed her to step aside and sink to the floor. Obviously her reaction wasn't the one he had expected. He sat roughly beside her, a curious expression on his face. "Aren't you frightened?" he asked bluntly.
"Yes-I am," she admitted, "terrified, actually. "But we are a fatalistic people. Our gods teach us not to fight the inevitable. You are here; we're alone. I know that I am in your power."
Every muscle in her body screamed for her to strike out at this brute, to punch and pummel him. But a violent contest with Alvarro would certainly be futile, so she continued to use her wits. She raised the flask, not