The Farmer was saying, “. . . does lead us here, for which I must again apologize. I am truly sorry that you will be tortured to your shrieking death while strapped to a child’s plaything.”
The Nub said, “Try not to get any blood on this thing. You might upset the children.”
“Shrieking death?” Fingit pointed up at the Nub and glared at Sakaj. “He said shrieking death!”
Sakaj pursed her lips. “Hyperbole.”
The Farmer smiled. “Thank you. I misjudged you, Desh. You’re the kind of man it’s a pleasure to torture. I regret that I will be busy elsewhere soon, but you can feel well cared for since I am leaving Louze with you.” The Farmer nodded at his near-simian henchman.
Louze stepped close to the Nub, reached up, and broke the young man’s left thumb. He uttered a short scream.
The Farmer laughed and strolled back into the soggy, wooden building.
Louze patted the Nub’s cheek. “That thing with the thumb was to let you know I’m serious about this. Some folk like to dink around, start with the little finger and work up—shit like that. Got too much respect for you. I can see you’re serious about this. Serious as I am.” Louze leaned back and grinned. “Desh, tell me every little thing about your friends, their army, and their plan of attack.”
“I don’t know any of that. I never saw the army. We rode ahead of them the whole time. That should be obvious!” The Nub scowled at Louze. “You’re not really thinking this through, are you?”
Louze laughed and punched the Nub in the eye. “Damn, you don’t mind talking it up tough, do you? Your answer makes sense, it does. You could be telling me the truth.” Louze ran two steps forward, unleashed a thundering punch into the Nub’s groin, and then slipped aside as the boy vomited.
The Nub moaned, “Why did you do that? I told you the truth!”
“Learn this quick, little friend. Sometimes I hurt you when you lie, and sometimes I hurt you when you say the truth. You’ll never know which. Crazy, isn’t it? The only way to stop the crazy is to tell me every damn thing you know. Don’t hold back, and don’t make me waste time asking. Then it’ll stop.”
Louze bent to pick through the items on the ground. He came up with a toy crossbow and a green triangular wooden block. “Tell me everything you think I might want to know. Even stuff you’re not too sure about.”
The Nub closed his eyes. Fingit heard the Nub mentally call him. “Fingit. Fingit. Fingit! Fingit!”
Fingit, unable to answer, glared at Sakaj.
“Fingit, you worthless bastard!” the Nub called out to Fingit in silence.
Louze chuckled. “Don’t just hang there. I bet you haven’t fainted or nothing. And you for sure aren’t asleep. Tell me everything.”
“I don’t know anything!” he said to Louze.
“Well, that was sure as hell a lie.” Louze paused. “Like I said, I won’t hurt you at every lie. Let’s talk about the leg. Son, I hear you can scoot right along, especially for a fellow minus a leg. Almost like you never were hurt. That peg leg of yours, which, pardon me, is uglier than the mole on my grandma’s ass, has got to be magic. Tell me all about your leg.”
The Nub craned his neck to look around. “Where is it?”
Louze grabbed the Nub’s jaw hard. “Never you mind that. Answer.”
“I made it,” the Nub mumbled.
Louze pushed the Nub’s face away. “Well, I figured that out already. But Lord Reth told me to ask you in particular, what did you trade for it?”
“Odd and ends.” The Nub shrugged. “Nothing I’ll miss.”
“Uh-huh.” Louze held up the two toys, moving them up and down as if they were on a scale. “Choose.”
The Nub shook his head.
“I saw the blacksmith has a big goddamn pair of pliers a while ago. I could fetch them for us.”
The Nub squirmed and silently called out, “Fingit! You come talk to me, you mangy horse’s whang! I want to deal!”
Fingit looked away.
The Nub indicated the toy crossbow with his chin.
Louze dropped the block and held the crossbow up to the light. “Doesn’t promise much. But the crosspiece is real iron and even a little sharp. Would you give such a thing to a child for him to play with? I’d think it was risky. Well, let’s figure out something to do with it.”
Sakaj said, “Don’t worry, Fingit, we’ll… find something.”
Fingit hissed. I can’t believe I’m about to ask this, but shit, he’s dead anyway. “Sakaj, would you try to contact him?”
The Goddess of the Unknowable smiled. “I wondered when you would beg for my help. It’s the logical solution.” Sakaj closed her eyes and gazed up at the Nub through the window onto man. “Nub, heed me,” she muttered. “Nub. Oh, Nub… I, a mighty god, call you. Nub! Nub, answer me!”
Fingit waved and turned away. “Give it up. The Veil must be blocking you.”
“Bah! I almost got his attention. I could feel his mind! I’ll try again.”
“Don’t bother. In my opinion as the greatest engineer in existence, you have no chance unless you already have a relationship with him. Like me. The one who can’t talk to the hairy little stalk!”
Sakaj tried twice more to call the Nub to her. She brushed his mind at a level too deep for him to notice, but nothing more. “Oh, damn him, the inattentive little rodent! Damn him, damn Krak, and while we’re damning things, damn you too!”
Over the next hour, Louze elicited answers from the Nub, often using the toy crossbow to inflict bruises, scrapes, and shallow cuts. The young man provided some bits of knowledge, but overall, he resisted. Sakaj began deriding the man’s torturing skills.
At that point, Louze used the tapered edge of the crosspiece to cut the skin between the Nub’s thumb and forefinger. That proved a successful tactic, if the Nub’s yelling and writhing meant anything. Louze then wandered away for a few minutes
