'It might as well have been,' Liam raised his voice. 'It was your fault we were out there that morning. It was your order that put those men inside the carriage. And it was your money that paid for the steel that cut him through the gut. You are as guilty as any one of your murderous guards.'
Purdun stood up. His fair skin was flushed red. His fists were clenched so tight they shook, and the skin on his knuckles had turned white.
'Your brother attacked one of my carriages. He killed five of my men. Men who had families. Men whose lives were at least as precious as his own.' Purdun glared at Liam. 'In my opinion, your brother got what he deserved.'
Liam lunged at Purdun. This was the second time he'd tried to attack the feudal lord inside his own private chambers. It was also the second time he found himself dangling from his tunic, held off the ground by one of the baron's half-giant bodyguards.
Purdun shook his head as he looked up at Liam. Then he turned toward the door and shouted, 'Captain Beetlestone.'
The doors flew open, and the guard captain came into the room. 'Yes, my lord.'
'Take this man to the dungeon.' He glared one last time at Liam, then turned and walked toward the door on the other side of the room. 'Maybe the rats can talk some sense into him.'
Ryder marched up the steep-walled canyon that lead into the Giant's Run Mountains, limping the entire way. Every step seemed another lesson in agony. They were escorted by the bandits on horseback, none of whom talked during the trip. The carriage that Purdun's guard had been protecting was packed full of the wounded and the freed prisoners who simply couldn't walk any farther.
Beside Ryder, just as when they had marched from Duhlnarim, walked the tattooed Nazeem. There were no chains binding them together, but they traveled side by side nonetheless.
As they walked, Ryder tried to think about things other than the pain that sank through his flesh and seeped into his bones. If he focused too much on the bruises and wounds, they became unbearable, so he thought about his home and his family. He longed to be back there with his lovely wife. He could see her long dark hair and those beautiful blue eyes. It pained him to think of her alone. He knew that Liam would look after her, and there was a small consolation in that. He vowed as he traveled that as soon as he was able, he would find a way to get home.
'Ryder.' Nazeem's voice brought him out of his daydreaming and back to the painful reality of climbing up the mountain pass.
'Yes.'
'Why do you think the guards were carrying so much treasure?'
Ryder hadn't thought about it until the tattooed man pointed it out. 'I'm not sure. Perhaps they intended to trade for something in Westgate.'
Nazeem nodded. 'Yes, but they had all of us to trade. Had we made it there, they could have easily auctioned us for several thousand gold apiece.'
'So, they could have gotten a lot of money for us,' said Ryder, tugging at his torn pants, trying to make his journey just a little more comfortable. 'Maybe they wanted something even more valuable than slaves.'
Nazeem shook his head. 'In the Pirate Isles, few things are more valuable. The merchants in Westgate know this. It's just a short trip out to the islands from their port. No, with that kind of money, Purdun could have purchased the fastest warship in the Shining Sea.' Nazeem chuckled. 'In some places, he could have bought himself a small castle-or an army of mercenaries.'
Ryder looked at his companion. 'How do you know all this?'
Nazeem smiled. 'I am a criminal,' he said pointing at the tattoo on his forehead. 'I know this sort of thing.'
Ryder pointed to his own forehead. 'What does this mean?'
Nazeem rubbed the blue triangle with his index finger. 'This is the mark they give you in Mezro when you break the law.'
'Mezro? You are Chultan then?'
Nazeem nodded. 'Born and bred.'
'What were you doing all the way out in Erlkazar?'
Nazeem smiled. 'I have told you this already. I was a smuggler.'
Ryder chuckled. 'Yes, I know. But why did you leave Chult? Why go so far from home?'
'Mezro is a peaceful city. No one there even carries a weapon. If the undying Chosen of Ubtao catch you breaking the law, they brand you with this tattoo and throw you out of the city.' Nazeem's smile faded. 'I had to leave the Chultan peninsula in order to survive. No one will deal with you if you have been shamed by this mark. So I decided to go someplace where nobody knew or cared what it meant.'
The two men walked on for a while in silence. Then Ryder spoke up. 'Nazeem?'
'Yes?'
'What was your crime?'
Nazeem seemed to think about the question for a moment. Then, 'I killed a man.'
Ryder thought back on all of Lord Purdun's guards he'd faced in hand to hand combat. Many of them had died by his hand. 'Did he deserve it?'
Nazeem only nodded.
More or less, Nazeem's story was the same as Ryder's. He'd been thrown out of his home for committing what the baron considered to be a crime. Ryder didn't see his actions as criminal. They were necessary. They were the means of a revolutionary. If his oppressor was going to slowly kill the citizens by taking their food and taxing their wages, then he would respond by killing them back.
The caravan came to a U-shaped bend in the road. The path led up north, farther into the mountains. The south side of the curve was defined by a forest of tall, prickly trees, each standing thirty or more feet tall. A pair of Broken Spear warriors stood in front of the trees, holding back the branches and ushering people single file through to the other side.
Nazeem went first. Ryder ducked his head and followed him through the foliage. There were several rows of these trees, and their branches were covered with long, needle-sharp thorns. At each new row of trees, another pair of Broken Spear warriors stood holding back the branches. The treacherous tunnel was difficult to navigate, made doubly so by Ryder's limp, beaten body. More than once he felt his flesh tear as it caught on the thorns.
As Ryder finally came out of the trees to stand next to Nazeem, he straightened his back and found himself looking up at a huge multitiered stone palace, seemingly carved right into the side of the mountain.
'Gods,' said Ryder under his breath.
'Giants,' corrected a voice.
Ryder turned to see the young robed bandit leader standing beside him and Nazeem.
'Welcome to Fairhaven.' The robed leader pulled down the mask that covered his head, revealing long dark hair, mocha skin, and a smooth, hairless face. The leader of the bandits wasn't a boy. 'I'm Giselle.'
She extended her hand in greeting.
Ryder looked at Nazeem, then back at the lithe woman standing before him. There were women in the Crimson Awl. He'd fought beside them on many occasions. But none of them looked like Giselle. She was beautiful, and her eyes had a keen sharpness to them. It made Ryder feel as if she could anticipate his thoughts. The combination of these two things was so powerful that Ryder was at a loss for words.
She cocked her head to one side, looking from one man to the other. 'Are you unfamiliar with this custom?' She reached out and took Ryder's hand in hers, shaking it up and down. 'Taking a proffered hand is a show of greetings and friendship.'
'Uh, yes, of course,' said Ryder, stuttering a bit. 'I'm Ryder.'
Giselle smiled. 'Nice to meet you, Ryder.' She let go of his hand and offered hers to Nazeem.
The Chultan took it and bowed his head. 'They call me Nazeem.'
'A pleasure,' said Giselle. She turned to face the huge spiraling stone stairs that led up into the palace in front of them. 'This used to be the home of a powerful stone giant clan. But it's abandoned now, so the Broken Spear call
