52
We remained silent a good while after they had gone.
“Well, on the whole I think that went rather well.”
Kerral laughed at my shabby attempt at humor, a couple of the others snorted laughs but couldn't make them stick.
“Hettar! Are you all right?” Larner called out to his fellow battle mage.
“Not good.”
“What do you make of it?”
Hettar reappeared at his door, pushing his head through the hole and turning to look down the corridor at us. The old man's nose was broken and blood covered his face. “He's crazy, one way or another.”
“Is he acting do you think?”
Hettar shook his head after a moment's consideration. “No. He's been broken some way. Broken and remade.”
“Does anyone know the name Kukran Epthel?”
Lots of shaking heads sticking through doors. I tried not to laugh, wondering if my humor was a hysterical reaction. This wasn't going to go anywhere good for any of us. “I guess the chances of ransom are minimal.”
Another laugh from Kerral. “Well, we still have our health.”
That got them. “And our sanity,” Sheo chipped in, his laughter sounding slightly mad.
The laughter didn't last long. It couldn't.
“I assume we are all agreed not to tell them anything?” Larner was looking at me.
“I was trying to calm him,” I snapped. “Sorry. Look, Meran became a friend. I don't know how that happened exactly but I treated him shabbily for years and he did a good job anyway, looked after me, was always ahead of my needs so I never had to ask for anything. Hell, I liked him and I wanted to do something for him just in case… Well, this happened.” I fell silent and no one commented. It hadn't done him much good, I reflected. No freemen sons or daughters to follow him. “Do you think they killed everyone?”
“I wish they had,” Hettar spat.
I nodded agreement. It would be better. My sister would continue the family name; father could still have other sons. Better if I were dead. If I were I wouldn't have to live through what was doubtless to come.
“I'm going to sleep,” I said and pulled my head back into my cell.
“Good luck with that.” It was Sheo, but I was done laughing for now.
53
I had my head back through the door. It was better to have company.
“How much does Ferrian know?” Sheo asked the question.
The mages Larner and Hettar exchanged guarded glances.
“How much damage can he do us?” Sheo rephrased the question more insistently. “I'm not asking for your secrets!”
Larner nodded and Hettar answered. “Not as much as we do, by a wide margin. He has ball of fire, the mustard cloud, bolt of lightning, earthquake; plus shock and some other personal offense spells.”
“Earthquake?” I asked.
“To bring down walls, localized but can be large if you have enough stone.”
I wanted to wave him to silence because I knew what he meant now. Whole cities had been leveled with that spell in the past. I knew it from history and my studies of war.
“Has he enough stone? How many stones do they have?”
Larner and Hettar exchanged glances again. “The largest was ten carats.”
“Gods,” I swore. “When were you going to use that?”
“I didn't plan to,” Hettar said mildly. “I brought it for emergencies. Used it, you may recall.”
I didn't. “Well, he has it now. I'm just glad stone isn't cumulative.”
Everyone nodded, including Larner and Hettar I was very relieved to note. I hadn't known for sure; just because it's common knowledge doesn't make it true, but if these experienced battle mages believed it that was good enough for me.
“I make it twenty stones, maybe one or two more. I don't know who had multiple stones, but doubtless the healers did,” Larner was thoughtful as he spoke. “Not that it matters to us, and we can hardly send a message home.”
No one spoke. It was true. I pulled my head back in and went to lie down.
54
They brought Gatren back a day later. We all heard the bang of the door opening and went to see what it was. Gatren was a bloody mess. Unconscious. They threw him into his cell and left, smirking back down the corridor at us and waving before they shut the door.
We all exchanged glances. There was nothing to say.
“We need a healer,” Sheo muttered.
“They have one,” I said.
“What?!” Hettar protested loudest but he wasn't alone. “How do you know?”
Lentro answered for me. “It's Ormal.”
“You knew?”
He nodded. “I woke during the healing, just enough to see his face. He looked dreadful. Terrified. Horrified.”
The memory came back to me. The voice I had not known saying 'make him live.' Not let him, or heal him, but make him. I hadn't thought about it, but it made sense now. Control. Whoever said this was all about control. What had Ormal said? I didn't remember, but I had recognized the voice.
It was Ormal.
“I heard his voice. I just remembered. He's with them, for whatever reason.”
“I can't imagine…” Lentro trailed off, then withdrew, his usually calm and friendly face looking unbearably sad.
The crash made everyone jump. It came from Kerral's door. He had withdrawn a little while back but we no longer noticed or commented on who we could see, and who only hear. The crash came again. The door opened inward. There was no chance of kicking it open.
I considered trying to persuade him to give it up, but there was no point and hell, he might succeed. For the first time I wondered where we were. If he did get out, kill a guard, get keys, let us out…I was fantasizing and knew it but what the hell… where were we? Undralt, I guessed. It was a barbarian town long ago, but remodeled in part six hundred years ago when first taken. As it developed, control passed back and forth many times. I guessed this part of this building was built with our masons by a barbarian ruler centuries ago. Why Undralt? Simple. We had been dying when brought here. It couldn't be far from where they had taken us.
One crash was followed too closely by another as a door banged open. For a second my heart leapt into my mouth and I moved fast to my door, sticking my head out. I was disappointed.
It was Ferrian and his two thugs.
They came for me and took me away.
