Reign of Shadows - Deborah Chester [59]
One of the raiders shoved Beva aside and bent over Anya. He drew his knife and struck cleanly.
Caelan jumped, and someone else cried out. Caelan closed his eyes, feeding on hate.
Surva and Old Farns were dragged out and dumped on the ground. Both were obviously dead.
With prods and kicks, the Thyzarenes gestured for the remaining prisoners to stand up. The netting was pulled off Caelan. He glanced around, but there was no possibility of escape.
Beva tried to speak to the raiders, but one of them slapped him. With blood trickling from a corner of his mouth, Beva made no further attempt to plead for mercy.
“They’ll sell us,” Raul whispered from the corner of his mouth, his gaze nowhere, everywhere. Beneath the grime streaking him, his face was as white as chalk. “Sell us to the slave market.”
Caelan frowned at him. “But we’re freeborn—”
“Don’t matter to these dogs.”
“It’s illegal. The emperor has forbidden it.”
Raul didn’t appear to hear him. “They’ll sell us. We’re the youngest and the strongest. We’ll bring a good price.” He blinked, gazing at the others. “Some of us.”
Caelan tried to go on breathing normally as the raiders examined each of them and argued among themselves, but his lungs were choked by growing fear. At least Lea was safe, he reassured himself.
But for how long? How long would she wait? She had food and shelter for now. When her food ran out, would she be able to follow the stream and find E’raumhold? He didn’t think so. She was too little to be on her own in the dangers of the forest.
Besides, even if she made it to E’raumhold, what if it had been burned out too?
Caelan found himself praying, his lips moving soundlessly. He had promised her he would come back. But he couldn’t. Gault forgive me, he prayed, knowing he had failed her.
Tisa began sobbing, each sound louder and more out of control. The men prodded her breasts, lifted her hair, looked at her teeth. She cringed away from them, screaming. One of them shook her hard, but that only increased her hysteria.
With an oath, the knife came out.
“No!” Caelan shouted.
But it had already struck. Tisa fell to the ground and was kicked aside, her lifeless body rolling across the snow with a bloody trail.
Raul moved closer to Caelan. “The fool,” he whispered angrily, tears filling his eyes. “The stupid little fool.”
Gunder bawled at that moment, and two of the Thyzarenes grabbed his arms. He was dragged away, fighting and yelling, then knocked down where he lay spitting and flailing in the snow. One raider sat on him while another trussed his arms and legs, fitting a collar around his throat. Gunder snapped like a wild dog, and almost managed to bite one of the raiders.
With a snarl the Thyzarene struck him across the face. Sobbing in the snow, Gunder lay there, his brief force spent as quickly as it had come, until they yanked him upright and led him away.
“The master’s next,” Raul whispered.
Caelan’s throat constricted. He looked at his father, and for a moment he saw only a skeleton standing there, the bleached skull white in the sunshine, the robe flapping on exposed bones. A horrified shiver ran through Caelan, and the vision was gone.
He felt dizzy and cold. He didn’t want to believe his vision. Let it be false, he prayed desperately. Let it not happen.
“A healer will bring a good price,” Raul was saying.
Watching the Thyzarene walk toward Beva, Caelan barely heard Raul. “No,” he whispered.
As though he sensed something, Beva turned his head and met Caelan’s gaze. Father and son stared at each other, one expressionless, the other filled with what he could not utter.
In that moment the Thyzarene slashed Beva’s throat.
Blood spurted. His head tipped back.
Screaming, Caelan lunged forward and caught Beva as he crumpled