Ghostwalker - Erik Scott De Bie [88]
Meris and his group had just barely made it inside when a rider in a forest cloak burst out of the gates, riding south fast. The wild scout narrowed his eyes, but shrugged. Nothing to do with him.
As soon as they were inside the city, he had the knights clapped in manacles and escorted to a certain Pitek's general store. Grossly fat Pitek, a loyal Quaervarr businessman, had expressed little hesitation about allowing the Lord Singer to use his store as the secret entrance to his dungeons. Pitek had no choice, after all, since the very reason Greyt kept his business in existence was to conceal the secret entrance, and as death would be the consequence of betrayal. There were two other tunnels as well: one to Greyt's personal wine cellar, and a final one from the ninth cell to Meris's servant's chambers in Greyt Manor.
Prisoners kept in the ninth cell rarely survived long.
Meris enjoyed the dungeons. Dark and dank as dungeons should be, hollowed out from preexisting caverns, they lay not directly beneath the manor but beneath the main plaza, deep enough that prisoners would not be heard. Light was nonexistent save for the candles kept lit in the guardroom-darkness was as much a torture as lack of food or drink.
Meris was glad and disappointed at the same time to see that the little pest Derst had survived the journey: on the one hand, he appreciated the chance to torture Derst, though on the other he did not look forward to hearing the man's snide commentary. Perhaps his tongue would be the first thing to go.
As for Bars… The paladin's healing touch had ensured the wiry knight's survival in the forest. Meris made a mental note to break or remove Bars's fingers.
Regarding Arya, Meris had not yet decided what to do, though he relished a few torments he had dreamed up, most of which he had not tried for lack of a suitably beautiful female subject.
First, however, it was time for rest. After seeing the knights locked away in the dungeon, he made his way through the third secret door, back up to his chambers. As he went, he stripped off his black watchman armor and discarded it, only vaguely aware of its sweaty stench.
For the moment, though, he cared little as he thought about nodding off in the copper bathtub in his rooms. He had left orders to have it filled for him when he returned at dawn, and he was right on time. Meris stretched his back as he walked through the tunnel. The sweat felt cool on his bare skin and the packed earth around him smelled moist and almost metallic. The smell of blood did not dissipate in this place.
A good scent to end a good night, and this had truly been a good night: the courier taken care of, the knights captured, Walker slain… What more could Meris ask for?
The question was answered for him when he found Greyt waiting for him in his bedchamber. The Lord Singer had not even been facing the door-he had been waiting for Meris to come out of the servant's quarters.
"A productive morning, son?" asked Greyt.
Meris swore inwardly. Apparently, he was not the only one who knew about the third secret passage. "Yes," he said. "I've killed Walker-oh, I forgot his head. It's buried in the Moonwood somewhere. But I've brought you three other presents, who wait down below."
The Lord Singer was pleased, but Meris hardly noticed.
"As for me," said the scout. "It's time for a bath."
The tub had been filled, as ordered, and steam rose from its surface. Meris stripped off his breeches, heedless of his bare body, and picked up a towel from the dresser.
"Not as such, I'm afraid," Greyt said.
"Excuse me, father? I don't think I heard you correctly," Meris said dismissively as he tested the water with his finger. It was nice and warm.
"I wouldn't do that," said Greyt with a wave of his hand.
"Do what?" He