“Oh.” Tas gulped. “I’m sure I didn’t mean to be insulting. Actually, I suppose one could get used to the smell, after a bit—”
At a signal from Bakaris, the wyvern spread their leathery wings and soared into the air, flying slowly under the unaccustomed burden. Flint gripped Tasslehoff tightly and kept his eyes on Laurana, flying ahead of them with Bakaris. Occasionally the dwarf saw Bakaris lean close to Laurana and he saw Laurana pull away from him. The dwarf’s face grew grim.
“That Bakaris is up to no good!” the dwarf muttered to Tas.
“What?” said Tas, turning around.
“I said that Bakaris is up to no good!” the dwarf shouted. “And I’ll wager he’s acting on his own and not following orders, either. That Gakhan—character wasn’t at all pleased about being ordered off.”
“What?” Tas yelled. “I can’t hear! All this wind—”
“Oh, never mind!” The dwarf felt dizzy all of a sudden. He was finding it hard to breathe. Trying to take his mind off himself, he stared gloomily down at the treetops emerging from the shadows as the sun began to rise.
After flying for about an hour, Bakaris made a motion with his hand and the wyvern began slowly circling, searching for a clear place to land on the heavily forested mountainside. Pointing at a small clearing just barely visible among the trees, Bakaris shouted instructions to the lead beast. The wyvern landed as ordered and Bakaris climbed down.
Flint glanced around, his fears growing. There was no sign of any fortress. No sign of life of any kind. They were in a small cleared area, surrounded by tall pine trees whose ancient limbs were so thick and tangled that they effectively shut out most of the sun’s light. Around them, the forest was dark and filled with moving shadows. At one end of the clearing Flint saw a small cave, carved out of the cliff face.
“Where are we?” Laurana asked sternly. “This can’t possibly be Dargaard Keep. Why are we stopping?”
“Astute observation, ‘general,’ ” Bakaris said pleasantly. “Dargaard Keep is about a mile farther up the mountain. They’re not expecting us yet. The Dark Lady probably hasn’t even had her breakfast. We wouldn’t want to be impolite and disturb her, would we?” He glanced over at Tas and Flint. “You two—stay put,” he instructed, as the kender seemed about to jump down. Tas froze.
Moving to stand near Laurana, Bakaris placed his hand on the neck of the wyvern. The beast’s lidless eyes followed his every move as expectantly as a dog waiting to be fed.
“You get down, Lady Laurana,” Bakaris said with lethal softness, coming quite near her as she sat upon the wyvern’s back, regarding him scornfully. “We’ve time for a little... breakfast ourselves...”
Laurana’s eyes flashed. Her hand moved to her sword with such conviction she almost convinced herself it was there. “Stand away from me!” she commanded with such presence that, for a moment, Bakaris halted. Then, grinning, he reached up and grabbed hold of her wrist.
“No, lady, I wouldn’t struggle. Remember the wyvern—and your friends over there. One word from me, and they will die very nasty deaths!”
Cringing, Laurana looked over to see the wyvern’s scorpion tail poised above Flint’s back. The beast quivered with anticipation of the kill.
“No! Laurana—” Flint began in agony, but she cast a sharp glance at him, reminding him that she was still the general. Her face drained of life, she allowed Bakaris to help her down.
“There, I thought you looked hungry,” Bakaris said, grinning.
“Let them go!” Laurana demanded. “It’s me you want—”
“You’re right there,” Bakaris said, grabbing hold of her around her waist. “But their presence seems to insure your good behavior.”
“Don’t you worry about us, Laurana!” Flint roared.
“Shut up, dwarf!” Bakaris cried in a rage. Shoving Laurana back against the body of the wyvern, he turned to stare at the dwarf and the kender. Flint’s blood chilled as he saw the wild madness in the man’s eyes.
“I—I think we’d better do as he says, Flint,” Tas said, swallowing. “He’ll hurt Laurana—”
“Hurt her? Oh, not much,” Bakaris said, laughing. “She will still be useful to Kitiara for whatever purpose she may have in mind. But don’t move, dwarf. I may forget myself!” Bakaris warned, hearing Flint choke in anger. He turned back to Laurana. “As it is, Kitiara won’t mind if I have a little fun with the lady first. No, don’t faint—”
It was an old elven self-defense technique. Flint had seen it done often and he tensed, ready to act as Laurana’s eyes rolled up, her body sagged, and her knees seemed to give way.
Instinctively, Bakaris reached to catch her.
“No, you don’t! I like my women lively—oof!”
Laurana’s fist slammed into his stomach, knocking the breath from his body. Doubling over in pain, he fell forward. Bringing her knee up, Laurana caught him directly under the chin. As Bakaris pitched into the dirt, Flint grabbed the startled kender and slid off the wyvern.
“Run, Flint! Quickly!” Laurana gasped, leaping away from the wyvern and the man groaning on the ground. “Get into the woods!”
But Bakaris, his face twisted with rage, reached out his hand and grabbed Laurana’s ankle. She stumbled and fell flat, kicking frantically at him. Wielding a tree limb, Flint leaped at Bakaris as the commander was struggling to his feet. Hearing Flint’s roar, Bakaris spun around and struck the dwarf in the face with the back of his hand. In the same motion, he caught hold of Laurana’s arm and dragged her to her feet. Then, turning, he glared at Tas, who had run up beside the unconscious dwarf.
“The lady and I are going into the cave...” Bakaris said, breathing heavily. He gave Laurana’s arm a wrench, causing her to cry out in pain. “Make one move, kender, and I’ll break her arm. Once we get into the cave, I don’t want to be disturbed. There’s a dagger in my belt. I’ll be holding it to the lady’s throat. Do you understand, little fool?”
“Yes, s-sir,” stammered Tasslehoff. “I—I wouldn’t dream of interfering. I—I’ll just stay here with—with Flint.”
“Don’t go into the woods.” Bakaris began to drag Laurana toward the cave. “Draconians guard the forest.”
“N-no, sir,” stuttered Tas, kneeling down beside Flint, his eyes wide.
Satisfied, Bakaris glared once more at the cowering kender, then shoved Laurana toward the entrance to the cave.
Blinded by tears, Laurana stumbled forward. As if to remind her she was trapped, Bakaris twisted her arm again. The pain was excruciating. There was no way to break free of the man’s powerful grip. Cursing herself for falling into this trap, Laurana tried to battle her fear and think clearly. It was hard, the man’s hand was strong, and his smell—the human smell—reminded her of Tanis in a horrifying way.
As if guessing her thoughts, Bakaris clutched her close to him, rubbing his bearded face against her smooth cheek.
“You will be one more woman the half-elf and I have shared—” he whispered hoarsely, then his voice broke off in a bubble of agony.
For an instant, Bakaris’s grip on Laurana’s arm tightened almost past endurance. Then it loosened. His hand slipped from her arm. Laurana tore free of his grip, then spun around to face him.
Blood oozed between Bakaris’s fingers as he clutched at his side where Tasslehoff’s little knife still protruded from the wound. Drawing his own dagger, the man lunged at the defiant kender.
Something snapped in Laurana, letting loose a wild fury and hatred she had not guessed lurked inside her. No longer feeling any fear, no longer caring if she lived or died, Laurana had one thought in mind—she would kill this human male.
With a savage shriek, she flung herself at him, knocking him to the ground. He gave a grunt, then lay still beneath her. Desperately Laurana fought, trying to grab his knife. Then she realized his body was not moving. Slowly she rose to her feet, shaking in reaction.