The Jewel of Turmish - Mel Odom [22]
"Hyle," Brugar commanded, "take that man into custody."
The tattooed man stared deeply into Haarn's eyes for a moment, then broke the contact. "This'n gonna be trouble, Brugar. Be best to just cut him and gut him."
Haarn stood easily, his manner relaxed, but he remained ready.
"Try to kill him," Brugar said, "and I'll slit your throat myself, Hyle. Bind him and gag him. Alive, he's worth a few gold pieces that I'll enjoy spending."
Moving warily, the tattooed man took a leather string from his kit and strode toward Haarn.
"Stick your hands out."
Conscious of the crossbow quarrels pointed in his direction, Haarn held his hands out. Hyle pushed the druid's wrists together and wrapped them tightly with the leather string, then confiscated his weapons. Breathing shallowly through his nose, Haarn distanced himself from the degrading treatment. In all of his years he'd never been taken captive.
He glanced wistfully at the forest. If the woman hadn't been with him, he could have escaped and wreaked vengeance from the protective shelter of the woods. However, he hadn't been in control of his life since he'd started finding the executed and scalped wolves.
Hyle checked the tightness of the leather and seemed satisfied, but the man's mocking, cruel grin faded as he looked into Haarn's face. Suspicion narrowed the tattooed man's eyes.
"What are you doing, druid?"
"Praying," Haarn answered simply.
"You got nothin' to pray for," Hyle said.
"I'm asking Silvanus for the quick deaths of the men who have chosen to become my enemies tonight."
Haarn kept his face impassive.
Scowling, Hyle pulled out a dirty rag, jammed it into Haarn's mouth, and tied a knot behind the druid's mouth to keep it in place.
"If I had my way," the tattooed man promised, "I'd have you sacrificed on an altar to the Beastlord."
A chill threaded up Haarn's spine as he heard the reference to Malar the Stalker. Malar and Silvanus were old enemies, and those who followed each of those gods carried the enmity between them. The druid looked at the other slavers, noticing tattoos upon a couple more of them as they stepped confidently from the forest's darkness. Perhaps all of them followed the Beastlord's teachings. Perhaps everything that was happening followed a grand design Silvanus had put into motion.
Hyle shoved Haarn from behind, pushing the druid down toward the valley floor.
Forcing himself not to resist, Haarn stumbled then began walking ahead of the slaver group. He gathered his power within him, drawing it from the earth, the trees, and the very air around them.
CHAPTER FIVE
The pounding echo trapped inside Druz Talimsir's aching skull woke her. Rough leather bound her hands at the wrists, and she'd lost feeling in most of her fingers. The scent of loamy ground filled her nostrils, threaded through by the thick odor of a cookfire and the stink of meat charred on the outside while grease dripped from the center. Men's voices carried on constant conversations and evidently never-ending arguments.
"There's nothing to fear by letting them know you're awake."
Druz recognized the calm voice as the druid's and opened her eyes. She didn't move. Even if the druid was right, she didn't want him to think she was responding to his voice. He was part of the reason she'd been taken by the slavers. There was no way she was going to believe the slavers had managed to approach him without him knowing, but she had no idea why the elf hadn't warned her.
For one brief moment, she thought that maybe he was working with the slavers. No one knew for certain what the Emerald Enclave's true agenda was in the Vilhon Reach. Most were in agreement that the druids didn't care for cities or further expansion of civilization, but taking up with slavers from Nimpeth was surely something they wouldn't even consider.
They've settled in for the night," the druid said a moment later.
The cookfires had told Druz that. She opened her eyes and saw the druid sitting next to her. Leather strips bound