Treasures of Fantasy - Margaret Weis [121]
He edged his way over to her. “I saw Treia come to camp this morning. She was asking about the Vektan dragons, wasn’t she?”
Aylaen nodded and pressed her lips together. She did not look at him, but stared, unseeing, at the playing field.
“Treia is worried that something might happen to you in the game.”
Skylan almost laughed out loud. “Treia—worried about me?” He started to add, “When pigs fly,” but then he understood. “This sudden concern of hers is because she thinks I know the secret and she fears I might take it to my grave. Well, I might, just to spite her.”
“Don’t joke about it, Skylan,” said Aylaen miserably. Tears glimmered on her eyelashes. “You don’t understand.”
He felt wretched for having made her cry. “I’ll keep thinking, Aylaen. I promise. And look at it this way: So long as I know this secret, or they think I know it, Treia and Raegar will work hard to keep me alive.”
Aylaen managed a smile and brushed away her tears. The captains dispersed and came back, telling their players which teams they would face. Soon teams began shouting insults and challenges at each other.
Keeper, returning to his team, looked very grim. Acronis and Zahakis were there to meet him.
“I was afraid of this,” the ogre said. He opened his palm to show a lot marked with red. “We play against the unblooded team of the Empress.”
Acronis and Zahakis exchanged glances. Zahakis raised his eyebrows and rubbed his jaw.
“What’s wrong? Is her team that much better than we are?” Skylan demanded.
“A herd of donkeys is better than you lot!” Keeper said scathingly. “Have you heard the rumor, Legate?”
“It is all anyone is talking about,” said Acronis.
“This is against the rules, my lord!” Keeper stated angrily.
“She is the Empress,” said Acronis. He turned to face his players and raised his voice so all could hear over the noise in the arena. “It seems the Empress has a new player she is going to test today. A player said to be one of the fae.”
“One of the faery folk? Like a nymph or a dryad?” Skylan said, grinning. He had never encountered a nymph or a dryad, but Wulfe had described them to him, and he did not think they had much to fear.
“No,” said Acronis coolly. “More like the wolves you fought the other night.”
Skylan’s grin vanished.
“The Empress is said to have captured a fury,” Acronis continued. “She has trained this fury for the game.”
The Torgun stared at him blankly.
“What is this thing—a fury?” Bjorn asked.
“Furies take the form of beautiful human females. They are said to be drawn to people who commit murders or acts of violence by the suffering and terror of the victim, much like sharks are attracted by blood in the water,” Acronis explained. “Some believe that the furies avenge the victim by tormenting the killer until they drive him mad. Others believe that these evil faery folk simply enjoy inflicting pain on humans and that they choose murderers because the gods have turned their backs on them.”
“I served in the legions with a man who was tormented by a fury,” said Zahakis. “He had murdered his wife. He went mad and jumped into the river and drowned.”
The Torgun appeared skeptical, all except Skylan, who remembered the torment he had endured from the draugr of his dead wife.
“What sort of fighter is this fury?” Sigurd asked, always practical. “How does she attack? What weapons will she use?”
Acronis shook his head. “I had hoped to see the fury during the procession, but the Empress considers the creature too dangerous to risk parading it among the people. She is being transported to the arena under armed guard.”
If Wulfe had been here, he could have told Skylan everything he wanted to know about furies. Or at least made up a good story. Skylan hoped Wulfe was obeying him and staying hidden in the ship. Wulfe had promised that he would, but Skylan didn’t put much faith in Wulfe’s promises. Thinking of the boy gave Skylan an idea, however.
“We should withdraw,” Keeper was saying.
Skylan gestured at the people in the stands. “You want them to mock us and call us cowards?