Fistandantilus Reborn - Douglas Niles [70]
With the coming of darkness, again we took to the road. The bandits prodded us with obvious urgency, and we followed the descending route down the north side of the ridge. At the base of the incline, we came to a rapid stream, here crossed by a sturdy bridge. After making the crossing, we proceeded upward again, and I sensed that we were drawing close to the lofty massif of the High Kharolis.
The long night of climbing exhausted me and many of the others, though Kelryn Darewind displayed no sign of fatigue. Finally we made camp again, this time in the depths of a mountainside cave. My captors have at last consented to provide me with the tools of my trade, and thus I hasten to write my observations, to record the history of the last few days with as much dispassion and objectivity as possible.
But as I look at the young lad who sleeps restively nearby and know that my interference was the act that kept him alive, I fear that I have already failed.
CHAPTER 25
Wyrmtales First Majetog, Reapember 374 AC Danyal pulled on the pole, saw the trout break the surface in a ripple of droplets and gleaming silver scales. He tugged gently, but then it was a violent force, and he ripped the hook from the fish’s mouth. The pole felt stiff and heavy in his hands.
Then he heard the fish scream, a sound so full of suffering that his heart nearly broke.
And then he was the fish, and the water closed over his head, but he couldn’t swim! He was badly injured, torn and bleeding, and held by the unbreakable strands of a long, tethering line.
He awakened, thrashing in panic, finally sitting upright and blinking through the smoky shadows of the cave. His garments were soaked with sweat, his hair plastered to his forehead by the clammy perspiration.
Danyal had to draw several deep, gasping breaths, reassuring himself that it had been a nightmare. Even so, only slowly did the sensation of drowning recede.
And he was still bound by the long tether-that part had not been a dream. The rope bit into his wrists, and the loss of circulation stung his hands, deadened his fingers. The other end of the twisted braid of tough leather was wrapped securely around a massive wooden stake that had been driven into the ground within the cave some time before their arrival.
He saw Foryth Teel, blinking slowly, stirring from slumber, and Dan guessed that his own thrashing had awakened the historian, who had been busily writing when the youth had drifted off to sleep.
But what was that scream? Danyal sensed that the sound had been a part of the real world. As he came to that conclusion, he heard an angry shout, then a man’s voice that broke into sobs, broken by desperate pleading. “No-leave me here! Just go on without me. I’ll stay out of sight till I can-“
“Get it over with, Zack!”
The last words, spoken in the voice of Kelryn Dare-wind, cut off the objections, though the sounds of soft sobbing still burbled through the cave.
Danyal crept forward, to the limits of the rope, and looked toward the entryway. He saw Gnar, the bandit with the broken knee, crawling slowly backward across the ground, while Zack advanced on him with his face split into a menacing leer. In the one-eyed bandit’s hand was the gleaming knife.
“Yer too slow, old Gnar,” cackled Zack. “Ya never were good for much, and now with that knee, yer just an anchor holding back the rest of us!”
“By all the gods, leave me here!” begged the injured man.
Abruptly Zack thrust. Gnar tried to roll away, but the blade snicked through his throat with a whiplike slice.
Danyal was horrified to hear the rush of air, the gurgling noise of death as the crippled bandit, his wrapped knee holding his leg unnaturally stiff, thrashed across the ground. Back arching, Gnar’s hands scraped to either side for a long moment. Then, with a reflexive shudder, his struggles ceased and he lay still.
Kelryn Darewind turned away, and his eyes met Danyal’s. The youth was frightened by the look he saw there-an expression of deep, unquenched hunger-but he found that