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struck, a lamp flaring up.
His vision blurred, Hammen looked up at two leering faces. Though they were
dressed in filth-stained leather, he knew these were not two simple thieves .
. . they were warriors of the Grand Master, their
well-fed faces looking down at him, laughing.
One of them leaned down and held a bleeding hand before him and then struck
him again across the face.
Don t kill him yet, the other hissed. I want him when we re done.
When we re done, another voice said. Through eyes that were starting to
swell shut Hammen saw three more men come into the room, all of them obviously
magic-wielding fighters, all three of them dressed in the multihued tunics of
the Grand Master.
The three moved across the room, looking around disdainfully, one of them
covering his nose with a scented handkerchief.
Is it the same one?
I think so, the one in the center replied. Get him to talk. Find out
exactly where One-eye is.
The warrior with the bleeding hand snicked a dagger out of his belt and held
it close to Hammen s face.
Can I start with the eyes? he hissed softly.
I don t care. Just don t cut his tongue out or kill him.
For an instant Hammen wasn t sure if the flash of light was blindness
descending upon him or not. Then he heard the high, keening scream and felt
the heat. There were more screams and the heat started to build, followed an
instant later by a cool blast of air.
Hammen looked around the room, which was blurred and hazy, and it took him a
moment to realize that he was in fact wrapped in a circle of protection while
the rest of the room blazed with a white-hot intensity. His five tormentors
rolled back and forth, shrieking, trying to beat out the flames that engulfed
them.
Though the shield protected him from the heat, the scent of burning flesh
still wafted through and he suppressed a gag. The five started to become
still, curling up into tight, charred balls so that they looked like blackened
dolls. The fire winked out as if the room had been washed with a blast of
rain. Through the smoke he saw Garth emerge, a cold look of fury still in his
eye.
The circle of protection vanished.
Are you all right?
Not really, damn it. I think I lost a tooth.
I had to make sure they all came in. I knew they wouldn t hurt you too much
until then. I m sorry.
Garth laid his hands on Hammen s temples and the pain washed away. He felt
for a moment as if he were floating. He closed his eyes and then reopened
them. His vision was again clear.
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Were they the ones who attacked you before?
I think so.
Garth nodded, looking around the room.
I m sorry your friends bodies had to be burned like that.
I don t think they really cared one way or the other, Hammen replied coldly.
Besides, the pyre had some curs on it to be their servants in the land of the
dead; it was fitting. He paused for a moment.
Thank you.
It served my purpose.
I think it was more than that, Hammen said, and Garth mumbled a soft curse
and stood up.
You want to collect your treasure? I think we better get moving. The
fireball caught them by surprise, but it ll draw attention. There ll be
others here in a moment, maybe more than I can handle.
Hammen stepped over a charred corpse and went up to the fireplace. Reaching
up inside, he pushed a brick aside, pulled out a heavy bag, and tucked it into
his tunic. He started back across the room and then paused. He pulled the
bag out again, opened it, fished out four gold coins, and quickly tossed them
on the four corpses of his friends.
For the ferryman, he said to Garth almost as if apologizing.
Let s go. Someone s coming, Garth replied, moving away from the door and
toward the back of the room. Hammen followed him, pausing for a moment to
spit on one of the corpses of fighters and then went down the bolt-hole, Garth
following.
Take us toward the Fentesk House.
Why there?
Don t you think they ll cover the paths toward Ingkara? Garth asked, and
Hammen grunted in agreement.
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