David Drake - The Fortress of Glass

Cashel slitted his eyes and turned to cover Tenoctris. The brightness was beyond imagining; it was like being put next to the sun. Beyond imagining…

The blaze-it wasn't flames so much as hot white light-mounted higher than the mast would've been, higher than the tallest tree of Cashel's memory. Hellplants shrivelled. Bits of them lifted and spun into the air, black ashes disintegrating into black powder and vanishing.

The hammering glare stopped abruptly. Cashel opened his eyes and lifted his body off Tenoctris. He'd supported most of his weight on the railing, but he was still glad when she looked up and him and said, "Thank you. Thank you. Are you all right, Cashel?"

While the light blazed Cashel hadn't been aware of any sounds, but now people were screaming or praying or just blubbering in terror and pain. The air stank with a combination of wet straw burning and cooked meat. The sea as far as he could tell was black with drifting ash.

Men who'd reached over the side of the ship had burned too. Most of them'd been dead already or next to it, snatched out of theHeron by a plant's crushing tentacles. Some had probably been pushing forward to fight, though.

Well, it'd been quick. And it was done, so that was good.

Tenoctris was all right. Ilna was down in the bow, wrapping a bandage over the torn skin on Chalcus' right forearm. Cashel looked at Cervoran, not exactly his business the way the women were, but maybe Cervoran too.

The wizard stood like a wax statue, neither smiling nor concerned. The empty velvet sack was in his left hand, but he'd dropped the skull to the deck again.

Cashel bent and picked up the cup. There was no telling when they'd need it again.

Garric's head hurt. The blinding surge of pain every time his heart beat was all his universe could encompass just now. He wasn't sure how long he lay like this, he wasn't sure of anything but the pain.

Then he noticed that other parts of his body hurt also.

"It means you're alive," noted the ghost in Garric's mind with amused dispassion. "There came a time I couldn't say that, so be thankful."

I'm not sure I'm thankful, Garric thought, but he knew that wasn't true as the words formed. He grinned and immediately felt better. Carus, who during a lifetime of war had been hurt as often and as badly as the next man, grinned back in approval.

Garric opened his eyes. He was being carried under a long pole, lashed by the elbows and ankles. His head hung down. Two women from the village had the back of the pole; when he twisted to look forward he could see two more in front. It was raining softly, and there was only enough light for him to tell there were people in the group besides the women carrying him.

A Corl warrior bent close to peer at Garric, then raised its head and yowled a comment. Other Coerli answered from ahead in the darkness. The women supporting the front of Garric's pole stopped and looked over their shoulders.

The cat man slashed the leading woman with his hooked line, held short and jerked to tear rather than hold. The woman cried out in pain and stumbled forward again.

Two Coerli walked toward Garric from farther up the line, a female wearing a robe of patterned skins and the maned giant who'd knocked him unconscious. The male was twice the size of the ordinary warriors, taller and about as heavy as the humans in this land. The female was as big as the warriors but unarmed. A crystalline thing sat on her right shoulder. It was alive.

"Can he walk?" the big male asked. Garric's ears heard a rasping growl, but the question rang in his mind.

"You!" said the female Corl, looking at Garric. She had four breasts, dugs really, under the thin robe. "Can you walk?"

"I can walk," Garric said. He wasn't sure that was true, but it seemed likely to get him down from the pole. With his legs freed and maybe his hands as well, who knew what might happen? "How is it you can speak my language?"

"We can't," the female said. "The Bird speaks to your mind and to ours."

The crystal thing on her shoulder fluffed shimmering wings. Well, they might've been wings. It wasn't really a bird, but Garric supposed that was as good a name as any.

"Where do you come from, animal?" the big male demanded.

"My name is Garric," Garric replied. "I'll answer your questions as soon as you've let me down from here to walk on my own. Otherwise, there's not much you can do to me that'll hurt worse than I feel already."

"That's not entirely true," noted Carus. "But a little bluster at a time like this can be useful. It's the best you can do till you've got a hand loose, anyway."

Now that Garric was fully awake, the jouncing ride was excruciatingly painful. The Coerli must have better night vision than humans; they moved with complete assurance, avoiding puddles and trees fallen across the trail. The women carrying Garric couldn't see much better than he did, though. Somebody slipped at every step, and once both of those in front fell to their knees. The jerk on Garric's elbows made his mind turn gray.

"All right, put him down," the big male said. "But keep him tied. Nerga and Eny? Walk behind the big animal and kill him if he tries to run."

"Female animals, put the male Garric down," the female Corl said. She looked at Garric and added, "I am the wizard Sirawhil, beast Garric."

The carriers stopped abruptly. Presumably they'd heard the big male just as Garric had, but they hadn't reacted till they got a direct order from the wizard. Now they more dropped than lowered Garric onto the muddy ground.

The big male glared at Garric, fondling the knob of his wooden club. "I am Torag the Great!" he said. A warrior cut Garric's ankles away from the long pole. "No other Corl can stand against me!"

A flint knife sawed Garric's elbows free. His wrists were still tied in front of him by thin, hard cords, but one thing at a time. He rolled into a sitting position and looked at his captor.

Let me get my hands on you and I'll show you what amancan do, he thought. Aloud he said, "Why have you attacked me, Torag? I was not your enemy."

Torag looked at him in amazement. He turned to Sirawhil and snarled-literally from his own mouth, and the tone of the words ringing in Garric's mind was equally clear, "What is this animal saying? He's a beast! How can he imagine he's an enemy to the greatest of the Coerli?"

"You hit him on the head," Sirawhil said with a shrug. "Perhaps he's delusional. Though-"

She glanced back; Garric twisted to follow the line of her eyes. Women from the village carried the bodies of two warriors. The cat men's corpses were light enough that a pair of bearers sufficed for either one.

"-while he's only an animal, he's a dangerous one."

"Resume the march!" Torag ordered. In a quieter though still harshly rasping voice he added to Sirawhil, "We can't get back to the keep by daylight, but I'd like to put more distance from the warren we raided. Just in case."

He prodded Garric with the butt of his club. "Get up, beast," he said. "If you can't walk, I'll break your knees and have you dragged. Maybe I ought to do that anyway."

Garric rolled his legs under him, rose to his knees, and then lurched to his feet without having to stick his bound hands into the mud to brace him. He wobbled and pain shot through his body-ankles, wrists and a renewed jolting pulse in his head-but he didn't fall over. He began plodding after the Corl warrior who was next ahead in the line. Torag and the female wizard fell in beside him.

"He's not a great thinker, this Torag," Carus said. "He's too stupid to hear a good plan even when it comesout of his own mouth."

He's not really afraid of me, Garric thought.

Carus laughed. The king's good humor was real, but it was as cold and hard as a sleet storm.