never marry. Suddenly Huy did not feel as rich as he had a moment before.
‘Do you not hear your king when he speaks?’ Lannon demanded, and Huy started guiltily.
‘My lord, I was dreaming. Forgive me.’
‘It is no longer necessary to dream,’ Lannon told him.
‘What was it the Gry-Lion asked?’
‘I said we should send for the barbarian - we can deal with him before the legion assembles.’
Huy looked around at his cohorts drawn up in an open square before the leather awning under which Lannon sat. The legions’ standards glittered in the sunlight, and the officers stood at ease before their men. They waited expectantly, and Huy sighed quietly.
‘As the Gry-Lion wishes.’
‘Order it so,’ Lannon commanded.
They had chained him at wrists and ankles, as well as at the throat. The slave-masters could pick a dangerous one at a glance, and two of them held him in leash by the chains from his throat collar.
He was as big as Huy remembered, and his skin even darker, but he was a young man. This came as a shock to Huy, he had thought of him as being in his prime years but this was an illusion. The man’s physical bulk and his commanding presence made him older than his years.
Huy saw how he had fought against his bonds, tearing his own flesh, smearing the skin on the unyielding iron shackles, and the wound in his groin had been crudely dressed with leaves and bark. There were the first watery yellow discharges of putrefication soiling the dressing, and the flesh around it looked hard and swollen. Although he limped, although the chains jangled mockingly at every pace, and although the slave-masters braced against him as though he were a captured animal, there was no mistaking that he was a king. He stood before Lannon and lowered his head slightly on the thick sinewed neck. His eyes were ferocious, even the whites were smoking yellow and covered with a fine lacework of blood vessels, and he stared at his captors with a hatred that was a palpable thing.
‘You captured this - this great black beast, Huy?’ Lannon returned the giant’s stare. ‘Without help, you took him?’ Lannon shook his head with wonder and turned to Huy, but Huy was watching the Vendi king.
‘What is your name?’ Huy asked softly, and the big round head swivelled towards him, the fierce eyes held his
‘How do you have the tongue of Vendi?’
‘I have many tongues,’ Huy assured him. ‘Who are you?’
‘Manatassi, King of the Vendi,’ And Huy translated for Lannon.
‘Tell him he is king no longer,’ Lannon snapped, and Manatassi shrugged and smiled. His smile was a frightening thing for although the thick purple lips drew back to expose strong white teeth, yet his eyes still smoked with hatred.
‘Fifty thousand warriors of Vendi call me king still,’ he answered.
‘A slave king of a slave people,’ Lannon laughed, and then to Huy. ‘What of him, Huy? Is he not a dangerous enemy? Can we afford to let him live?’
Huy tore his gaze from the slave king and considered the question, trying to think logically but finding it difficult, Huy had conceived a sudden but powerful proprietary interest in Manatassi. He was impressed with the man’s power and presence, with the military skills he had displayed, with the cunning and cleverness and the strange smouldering depths of him. Huy had taken him, he could claim him, even from Lannon, and he was strongly tempted to do so now, for he sensed that here was some extraordinary opportunity. To take this man and educate him, civilize him - what might be made of him! He felt an excitement as a new idea tried to struggle to the surface of his mind.
‘I think not,’ Lannon answered himself. ‘From the first moment I saw him, on the hill above the ford, I knew he was dangerous. Deadly dangerous. I do not think we can let him live, Huy. He would make a fine messenger to the gods. We will dedicate him to Baal and send him as a messenger to express our gratitude for the outcome of the campaign.’
‘My lord,’ Huy dropped his voice for Lannon alone, ‘I have a feeling about this man. I feel I could enlighten him, teach him the true gods. He is young, my lord, I could work upon him, and when we are ready we could return him to his people.’
‘Have the birds picked out your brain?’ Lannon looked at Huy in astonishment. ‘Why should we return him to his people, when we have spent so much effort on capturing him?’
‘We could use him as an ally then.’ Huy was trying desperately to get his idea over. ‘Through him we could make
‘Treaties with barbarians!’ Lannon was angry now. ‘What nonsense is this? Secure our northern borders, you say? One thing, and one thing only will secure our northern borders, and that is a sharp sword in a strong hand.’
‘My lord, please hear me out.’
‘No, Huy. I will have no more of it. He must die - and quickly.’ Lannon stood up. ‘Tonight at sunset. Prepare to send him.’ And Lannon strode away.
‘Dismiss the legion,’ Huy ordered his commanders, and nodded to the slave-masters to lead the captive away. But Manatassi stepped forward dragging the slave-masters with him on his chains.
‘High born!’ Manatassi called Huy, who turned back to him with surprise. He had not expected a title of respect.
‘What is it?’ Huy looked at him.
‘Is it death?’ Manatassi asked, and Huy nodded.
