Reign of Shadows - Deborah Chester [111]
“I wasn’t trying.” Still panting, Caelan found unwanted memories washing over him. He could not shut them out. “That thing in there—the haggai—” His voice broke on him, and he shuddered.
“I see,” Orlo said at last. “You fool, you destroyed the initiation rites and risked the wrath of the gods, and now you run from the arms of ecstasy. Truly, you are mad.”
“I wish I were,” Caelan muttered, closing his eyes. “That thing—the sight of it—what in the name of the gods is it?”
“You saw a haggai?” Orlo sounded disbelieving.
Caelan nodded. “I didn’t want to go into the passageway when she—when it called to me. I figured I should preserve my strength the night before combat. But she—it cast some kind of spell on me. When I got close enough, I saw what it was.”
Orlo sighed. “That’s the whole point. You aren’t supposed to see them. Men would go mad, which is what happened to you. Am I right?”
Caelan remembered the order forbidding him to sever. “Yes,” he lied. “I went mad.” And perhaps it wasn’t a lie. He didn’t like losing himself this way. It was why he’d resisted severance at Rieschelhold, resisted those lost gaps of time spent doing the bidding of the masters with little or no recollection afterward of what he’d done.
He threw himself at Orlo’s feet, all pride gone. “Don’t make me go back to that creature. In the name of the gods, have mercy on me.”
“Hush.” Orlo kicked him back, sending him sprawling. “I’d rather have you stiff-backed and causing trouble than sniveling like this. Do you have regrets now for what you’ve done? The priests cursed you, do you understand?”
“Yes, master.” Caelan pulled himself to his feet, trying to regain his composure. “I didn’t like the blasphemous service they forced on us.”
“And who asked you whether your approval was needed? Gault above, you are more trouble than a ring full of Madrun prisoners of war. Aren’t you afraid now of tomorrow?”
“No more than before.”
“But you face the chance of death without the protection of the gods. You cannot enter the afterlife without—”
Orlo broke off his sentence as though realizing he was sounding too concerned. He cleared his throat and gave Caelan a shove. “Move! I’ve a dozen duties ahead of me tonight. No time to mess about with a superstitious Traulander who won’t take a night of pleasant forgetfulness with a haggai witch.”
Caelan faced him. “I will not go back to such a creature. If I am to be whipped for disobedience, then do so, because I will not—”
“Careful,” Orlo warned him. “You are an insolent dog, but it is a privilege, a generous gift, that is provided to condemned men, not an obligation.”
Some of the tension faded from Caelan. He let out a breath of relief.
“I do not bargain with slaves,” Orlo said. “Do you understand me? I do not bargain. But if you will not tell anyone that you saw a haggai, no matter what tales of pleasure are shared with you on the morrow, then I will quarter you with the veterans where they do not venture.”
Caelan was grateful but also surprised. “The veterans don’t—”
“I didn’t say that!” Orlo broke in irritably. “The veterans have their favorites. They go down deep into the catacombs when they wish, but it is by their choice. The haggai do not seduce or lure them. Only the new fighters, for the first time.”
Caelan had more questions, but instinct told him he had pressed his luck far enough. “I am grateful for your mercy, master.”
“Walk,” Orlo said gruffly. “As stupid as you are, you’ll be dead by the first round. Just mind that when you are killed, you do not choose to haunt me. Gault’s mercy!” He made a swift gesture of supplication and glared at Caelan. “You should have taken the night of pleasure.”
Chapter Twenty
ELANDRA DID NOT know exactly how long she had remained blind among the Penestrican women, but she guessed approximately a month had passed.
It was a