Sentinelspire - Mark Sehestedt [12]
The half-orc's eyes had narrowed to slits, and he was grinding his teeth as he watched Berun. v One of the men standing behind Sauk, a tall man with dirty blond hair who looked as if he hadn't shaved in days, said, "I think we ought to teach this one some courtesy. Eh, Sauk?"
"Val, that you?" said Sauk, not turning around. "Yes."
"If I want to know what you think, I'll ask you. You want to lead this party? All you have to do is get through me. Understood?"
Much of the boldness went out of the man's gaze, and he looked away from Berun. "Understood. You're the boss."
"Am I?" said Sauk, still not taking his eyes from Berun. "Or am I the Old Man's favorite lapdog?"
Berun said nothing. He forced his muscles to relax. He sat less than five feet from one of the fiercest hunters he'd ever known, and he was surrounded by seven armed men, all watching and ready to kill him, awaiting only their master's word. And there was still the tiger to consider. Hopeless. If he'd had some distance and more cover between him and the men, if his bow were ready, if, if, if…
If it came to that, he wasn't going back to the grave alone.
Then Sauk did the last thing Berun expected. He threw back his head and laughed, rocking back and forth on his rump, his hands on his knees. Confused, Berun looked around. A few of the men relaxed, but most still stood tense, hands on weapons. The looks on their faces showed that they were just as confused as he was.
"Oh, Kheil," said Sauk, wiping the tears from his eyes with the back of one hand. "Pardon me. Berun. Berun, it must be. Kheil was never such a damned fool."
"Fool or not, Kheil is dead," said Berun. He tried to hold on to his anger, but he could feel it slipping away. "I'm sitting here alive."
Sauk went still again, though the mirth did not leave his countenance. "Well, for now anyway," he said. "You think the Old Man sent us, is that it? Sent his favorite lapdog after his favorite assassin? Bring the naughty boy back home? The little runaway?"
"Isn't it?"
Berun saw several men exchanging amused glances, and the one Sauk had called Val grinned and shook his head, like a favorite uncle amused at his nephew's latest foolishness.
"Not even a little," said Sauk. "Wrong on all counts, in fact. Berun, you are sitting surrounded by conspiracy. Every one of these men, this half-orc included, has sworn to see the Old Man of the Mountain dead. Or die trying. Now sit and listen."
Chapter Five
You spoke truly about one thing," said Sauk. "I didn't come for a reunion. Gerrell?" The half-orc looked to one of his men, the one who had held the spear on Berun down in the ravine. The man's wounds were all cleaned, though filth still covered his clothes. "Food ready yet?"
"Almost, Sauk."
Sauk returned his attention to Berun. "Not much, I'm afraid. We haven't hunted in days. Bits of smoked venison stewed with whatever else they throw in. Doesn't taste like much, but it'll fill you. There's bread, too, though you might have to pick out the bugs."
"Tell me what you want with me," said Berun, "then I'll decide whether to accept your hospitality."
"What makes you think I'm giving you a choice?"
"There's always a choice, Sauk."
"Not always a good one."
Sauk rummaged through the leather satchel at his belt and pulled out a half-eaten hunk of brown bread. Seeing that, a flood of memories hit Berun. He knew that no matter how hungry Sauk became, if anyone offered the half-orc meat, he would not eat it. Sauk served Malar, the Beast-lord, and he would eat no flesh that he himself had not hunted and killed. He'd choke on moldy, maggot-infested bread first.
Sauk bit into the loaf and spoke as he chewed. "That druid. The one the Old Man sent us to kill nine years ago." "Chereth," said Berun.
"Yes," said Sauk. "Or as we in the Fortress have come to call him: 'The one who got away.' "
A few of the men, listening in, laughed at this.
"He the one who killed y-uh, killed Kheil, that is?"
"No," said Berun. "The rangers executed