The Jewel of Turmish - Mel Odom [21]
"You don't have a choice."
Broadfoot shifted in the trees, edging closer. None of the slavers around them noticed the slight noise the big bear made.
Haarn growled, drawing the rumbling sound from deep in his chest. Broadfoot stopped in his tracks, but snuffled his displeasure at the command. Even with the magic available to him and the years of association he had with the bear, the druid couldn't talk directly to Broadfoot, but he could make his wishes known.
"What the hell was that?" one of the men demanded.
Another man spat. "He's one of those damned druids," he cursed. "We'd be better off killing him now, Brugar. There ain't no easy way we're going to take him with us."
"Lord Vallis is paying by the head," a gruff voice said. "As long as that druid's head stays on his shoulders, it's worth gold."
"The woman's worth more," another man said. "Look at her. See how pretty she is?"
Haarn watched the dark stain of embarrassment touch Druz's features.
"Well hold her back from Vogalsang's auction block in Nimpeth then sell her to Warryl," the man went on. "Warryl can sell her to one of those fleshpots along the Golden Road down by the Nagawater."
"You'll have to kill me first," Druz promised, lifting her long sword meaningfully. "A quick death now is preferable to a slow death later."
Haarn watched the woman's eyes and felt his respect for her grow. Despite the clumsy way she interacted with the forest and let the men's taunts embarrass her, she knew her own true balance. Most men he'd met, the druid felt from his limited experience with those outside his order, had never been tested enough to reach that. The woman suddenly appeared more intriguing to him.
"Tell her to put the sword down, druid," Brugar commanded.
He was a mountain of a man, standing nearly seven feet tall. His skin was swarthy, almost black. He wore dark leather armor and carried a battle-axe. His shaven head gleamed in the moonlight. Scars littered his arms, shoulders, and face. He glared fiercely at Haarn.
"She won't listen to me," Haarn replied.
"Make her," Brugar ordered, "or I'll kill you both."
Haarn didn't reply. He sensed the greed in the man, knowing that Brugar was already counting the gold he'd be paid for those he captured. The druid also heard the quiet footsteps coming up from behind them. He made himself wait.
At the last moment, a twig snapped under the approaching man's foot. Haarn glanced over his shoulder, already hearing the mercenary in motion as she reacted to the unexpected sound.
Druz spun quickly and moonlight flashed on the naked blade in her hand. She took a step away and almost succeeded in escaping the cruel blow that smashed into her head. Her fleeing step turned into an outright fall as she dropped bonelessly to the ground. The other man Haarn had heard creeping through the forest stood over the mercenary.
The slaver was thin and unkempt, rawboned and ragged. His gaze was feral and fleeting, never looking in any direction too long. He grinned at the druid then spat contemptuously on the ground.
Aware that all the crossbows were now turned on him, Haarn held his position. No emotion touched him as he faced his captors.
"Hyle," Brugar called out, "you better not have crushed her damn skull."
"I ain't crushed her skull." Hyle knelt gingerly and held a palm over Druz's face. "She's breathin' all right. Anyways, any wrong I coulda done her coulda been fixed by the tree-lover over there."
Standing his ground, Haarn glanced down at the mercenary lying helplessly on the ground. Dark blood trickled through her red-gold hair. Anger stirred within the druid.
The fact that the men were slavers had nothing to do with the dark emotion that moved restlessly inside Haarn. This part of the forest had been given over to him for his protection and he had never forsaken that charge. The presence of the slavers was an encroachment upon that territory, but even worse-they knew the group he represented and they had chosen to ignore that. Behavior like that couldn't be tolerated.
Broadfoot huffed and growled