“I have no idea,” Leitos said.
“So how were you caught?” Damoc asked. The way he said it suggested that he did not believe they had been captured.
“We misjudged the slavers’ strength. Also, they had Hunters with them, changeling wolves.” Damoc’s lips curled in distaste, but he held silent, waiting for Leitos to continue. “Some of our number were taken….”
Leitos spoke on for long moments, detailing the entire account. When he finished, Elder Damoc’s features grew thoughtful.
“If all that you say is true, then why have you joined with the Fauthians, as much the enemies of humankind as the Faceless One?”
“We did not join them,” Leitos said, tired of explaining that point, but having no choice. “We only accepted their generosity. If they had not healed Ke’uld, a Brother who was near death, perhaps we would not have. Also, they offered to repair one of the Kelren ships for our return to Geldain.”
Where Damoc had shown no inclination toward humor, he laughed now. “Repair ships? Fauthians were men of the sea, generations gone, but no more. Now they shun deep waters.”
Leitos scowled. There was another creature that avoided deep water. “You speak as if they are Alon’mahk’lar.”
Damoc’s face twisted. “They are far worse. Demons and demon-born are what they are, by their inborn nature. The Fauthians willingly chose to side against humankind.”
Leitos’s eyes held Damoc’s. “Let me go, and I will tell my brethren who the Fauthians really are. If we find that you speak the truth, we will destroy them.”
“No,” Damoc intoned. “You have joined with our enemy, and so have become an enemy to all men.”
“Have you heard nothing I said?” Leitos gasped.
“Do you deny that you and your fellows have taken shelter in Armala?”
“No,” Leitos said, shaking his head, then rushed to explain. “Our only purpose is to destroy those who bend knee to the Faceless One!” He was uncomfortably aware that if that mission had ever been true, it no longer held sway amongst the majority of his fellows. Even now, he could imagine Sumahn and Daris taking their pleasure with the Fauthian women, while the rest supped on Fauthian food, and slept in Fauthian beds.
“I could almost believe you,” Damoc mused regretfully, “but to do so could prove to be my downfall, that of my clan, and all my people. I cannot take the chance that you are lying.” He took a deep breath and stood rigid. “You will burn before a gathering of my people. Such is the sentence for those who have sworn fealty to the Faceless One.”
“I did not swear to anyone,” Leitos shouted, hauling himself out of the muck. “You must believe me. We did not know. Damoc, free me!”
Damoc turned and strode away. He did not slow, or so much as hunch his shoulders against Leitos’s pleas.
Chapter 18
At dawn the night after he sent his son off, a bleary-eyed Adham peeked into Leitos’s room, thinking he must have returned by now. The bed still stood empty and unused. Hoping he had missed his son’s return, he joined Ba’Sel and Ulmek in the gathering hall.
“He’s probably sneaking about stealing things,” Ulmek said, and then filled his mouth with a gulp of fruit wine, indifferent to the greenish liquid that dribbled over his chin.
Ba’Sel drained his own goblet, swaying a bit in his seat. “The boy is probably enjoying the city. As I understand it, he has never seen a living city, other than Zuladah. Trust that hunger will bring him back-you know how boys love to eat.”
“He would not have left without telling me,” Adham countered, keeping to himself that he had sent Leitos in search of anything the Fauthians might be hiding.
Ba’Sel frowned doubtfully. “Surely you must know that young men often stretch the bounds put in place by their elders.”
“Sumahn and Daris ought to be proof enough of that,” Ulmek drawled. “If you need more, look to your own youth.”
“From the time I could raise a sword without slicing off my ears,” Adham snarled, “I set to slaughtering enemies, not lolling about and cavorting with strange flesh.”
“Strange of flesh these Fauthian women may be,” Ulmek said, turning an eye on a laughing pair of women passing by, “but Sumahn names them exotic … and skilled in matters of love. In that, I must agree.”
Of all the Brothers, Ulmek was the last one Adham would have expected to fall under Fauthian sway.
“Do not fret, Adham,” Ba’Sel said, smiling and glassy-eyed. “Leitos has shown great promise. You should trust in him and his wisdom.” He winked. “Besides, it could be that he has chosen to make a man of himself among our hosts.”
Adham abandoned the two to their wine, and went to find Adu’lin. If not for desperation, he would not have lowered himself to speak with that yellow snake of a man. Adham did not trust the Fauthian or his people. In truth, he did not believe they were people at all, but something very much akin to Alon’mahk’lar. Who knew what the Fallen were capable of creating?
He found Adu’lin speaking quietly to a group of his folk, who sat on benches fashioned after nude children-human children, Adham noted uncomfortably. Behind them stood a fountain fashioned into a wrinkled crone of hammered bronze, with a crown of ruby horns, and pendulous breasts that streamed water from jade nipples; below the waist, she became a stone serpent of thick coils that trailed into a pool tiled in eye-wrenching patterns.
Tearing his gaze from the fountain, Adham demanded, “Have you seen my son?”
“Which one of you would that be?” Adu’lin asked, smirking. “Forgive me, but you all look so much alike to us.”
Adham tried to ignore the Fauthians’ sniggering, but the cracking knuckles of his tightening hand gave evidence of his irritation. “He is the youngest of our party,” Adham grated. “His name is Leitos. He was not abed this morning, and may not have been all night.”
Adu’lin favored him with an unreadable expression, though a flicker of some emotion-surprise, alarm, wrath? — lit his stare. “As I warned you and the others, this city is ancient and far larger than my people can fully inhabit. As such, much of Armala is dangerous for its sad state of neglect. If your son has gone nosing about where he ought not-which Ba’Sel assured me none of his men would do-then it is possible some ill has befallen him.”
In a voice low and dangerous, Adham said, “Listen well, you goat-buggering serpent, if you know where my son is, tell me. If not, then get off your scrawny backside, and start searching this befouled city for him.” He reached for his sword to emphasize his point, belatedly remembering that it was not there. He had his dagger tucked under this robes, but thought better about drawing it.
Each Fauthian watched his hand clutch the empty air at his hip, and their amber eyes narrowed to slits. A smug look passed over Adu’lin’s thin face. “We are all friends here. Surely there is no need for hostility?”
“Forgive me,” Adham forced himself to say, suddenly feeling imperiled. “Concern for my son has soured my manners. I would like to search for my son, but I do not know the city, or where to start. I … I need your help.”
“Of course,” Adu’lin said, placid and accommodating once more. “But as you would only hinder us, I must ask you to return to your quarters. Trust that we will find your son … if he is in the city.”
“Where else would he be?”
Adu’lin shrugged. “We place guards on the walls to keep the Yatoans out, not to keep our people in. But then, we know better than to venture outside the city. It is conceivable that your son might have disregarded my warnings, and left Armala. I hope that is not so … as should you.”
After leaving Adu’lin, Adham returned to his quarters and paced, wall to wall. Every hour on the hour, he went to Leitos’s room, hoping he had returned. The chamber remained empty.