Sagar smiled. "I'll fetch him, my lord."
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
"Under attack?" said Hweilan.
"Those clarions," said Menduarthis. "That is the call to arms. Something has come into the realm of Kunin Gatar."
Hweilan felt it then. The pulsing at the back of her skull. Not strong yet, but steady as a drumbeat. She had not felt it since…
And she knew who it was.
"Soran," she said. "That… that thing that looks like my uncle. It's him. I know it."
Roakh tried to laugh, but it came out more of a cough, and black blood dribbled out on his cheek. "Haak! They'll be coming for you, Menduarthis. Your Ujaiyen. And for me. You to lead your scouts. Me to… do what I do. They'll be coming. They'll… find you. See what y-"
Menduarthis kicked him again. Then he looked to Hweilan. "He's right. If we're under attack, the queen's hound and her favorite snoop will soon be summoned."
Roakh coughed up more blood, then began to roll away from Menduarthis, closer to the shelves.
"Where are you going, old bird?" Menduarthis asked. He bent down to turn the man over.
But Roakh rolled back on his own, and as he did so he used his unbroken arm to punch at Menduarthis.
Menduarthis jumped back, laughing, and said, "What do you th-?"
And then something struck him in the face. It hadn't been a punch from Roakh after all. A throw.
The small brown bag bounced off Menduarthis's forehead, surprising him more than anything, but as it did so, its contents spilled out in a cloud of white powder.
"Wha-?" said Menduarthis, then he screamed and slapped at his face. He lurched backward, stumbling as his knees gave way, then fell face first on the floor. Only the bundle of junk saved him from cracking his head on the stone.
Hweilan screamed, "Menduarthis!"
"Don't worry," said Roakh, as he pushed himself to his feet. "He's not… dead." He coughed, and a fine spittle of blood flew out of his mouth. "Not after what he's done. Death's"-he took in a deep breath, and Hweilan could hear the broken, wet rattle in his chest-" too quick… for him. Now, what shall we do with you?"
One twisted arm hung limp and useless by Roakh's side. He tried to move it, winced in pain, then gave up. He took a big step to Hweilan, almost slipped on all the detritus littering the floor, then leaned against the near shelf.
"Keep away from me!" said Hweilan, and she thrust the bow in front of her, holding it crossways like a staff. She glanced over her shoulder to the still open window. Beyond was the ledge, and after that a drop of a good forty feet or more. Too high.
"Half a… moment!" Roakh coughed up more blood. He turned and used his good hand to rummage through the shelf behind him. An old plate fell to the floor and shattered. He turned back to Hweilan. Still leaning on the shelf for support, he now held a small phial in his trembling fist. Wincing at the pain, he used his teeth to pull the cork, spat it out, then drank the contents of the phial.
Roakh screamed-an agonized shriek that caused Hweilan to take an involuntary step back. He fell back onto the remains of the table where he had received his beating. His back arched. He hammered the floor with one fist, his scream growing into a ravenlike cry. Then, like the tension leaving a cut string, he collapsed.
For an instant, Hweilan thought-hoped-Roakh was dead.
But then he took a deep draught of air and sat up. He moved his right arm. It was no longer broken. He made a tight fist then wiggled his fingers.
"Ahh." Roakh chuckled and looked at Hweilan. "Much better. Still not quite hale as ever." His smile widened. The sharp teeth had mended, though blood from his previous wounds still smeared his face and mouth. In the fading light, it looked black against his gray skin. "A good meal will mend that, I think," he said, and pushed himself to his feet.
"Stay away!" Hweilan said, and raised her bow in both hands, like a club.
Roakh's smile melted, his face losing all semblance of emotion, and he cocked his head to one side. Like a raven. A raven scavenging the quiet battlefield, disturbed only by the endless drone of flies and the caws of his fellows. He charged her.
Hweilan screamed and swung the bow.
He laughed and caught the bow in one hand, the wood striking his palm with a loud slap. He tightened his grip, twisted, and yanked the bow from her hands. Hweilan tried to hang on to it, but he was too strong-unbelievably strong, considering his small stature and almost frail frame-and he almost pulled her off her feet.
Roakh caught her. She pushed at him, and again he used her own strength against her, throwing her across the room. Her back struck the wall under the window, knocking every last bit of breath from her body, then she hit the floor, and bright lights danced before her eyes.
Her vision cleared. Roakh advanced on her. She screamed and scrambled to her feet. A forty-foot drop suddenly seemed a lot more inviting than it had a few moments ago.
She was halfway out the window when Roakh grabbed her, threw her to the ground, and put his full weight on top of her. He didn't weigh more than a child, but his strength was incredible. She aimed a backhanded punch at his face, but he caught her wrist and pinned it to the ground beside her head. She tried to bring her left arm around, but it was pinned beneath his leg.
Roakh opened his mouth, dark spittle fell down onto her cheek, and his teeth lunged down. Hweilan screamed, still unable to move her hands, and twisted beneath him. Strong as Roakh was, he was still much lighter than Hweilan, and she managed to get him halfway off her. His jaws snapped shut, barely missing her face and instead closing around a mouthful of hair. He growled and spat it out.
Hweilan's right arm was still pinned under his grip, but she'd wormed her left free. Rather than aiming another useless punch, she raised her knee and thrust her hand inside her boot. With the glove on, it took her a moment to find the knife. She managed to wrap three fingers around the hilt and pull, the knife coming halfway out.
Roakh used his free hand to grab a handful of Hweilan's hair. He gripped and yanked, turning her head to expose her throat.
Hweilan grabbed the hilt.
His lips wet with blood and drool, Roakh lunged.
Hweilan drew the knife. Her leg and arm were twisted at such an angle that the blade sliced through her trousers and nicked the skin beneath as it came free.
Sharp teeth and warm, wriggling flesh, like grave worms, hit her throat.
Hweilan screamed and stabbed upward.
Roakh shrieked, the sound deafening so close to her ear, and his teeth scraped away skin and flesh as he flung himself away.
Hweilan rolled to her feet and looked down. Dark blood drenched the entire length of the knife and much of the glove holding it. Roakh leaned against the opposite wall, both hands clutching his side just below his ribs. Blood wasn't leaking out from between his fingers. It was pouring.
"You stabbed me, you-!" Roakh pulled his hands away, twisting them into claws, and lunged.
Hweilan dodged sideways and swept the knife in front of her. She was too frightened to aim, to think of anything more than keeping the monster away from her. But the knife sliced one arm, opening another deep gash.
Roakh twisted and came after her.
She brought the blade around again, stabbing this time instead. She felt the shock up her entire arm as the point slid between two ribs, the blade catching there a moment before the force of Roakh's charge twisted the blade, forcing it in deeper.
They fell. One of Roakh's clawed hands went for Hweilan's throat while the other batted at her knife hand. She screamed through clenched teeth, desperate to keep hold of the knife, and pushed him with her free hand as they hit the floor. It forced Roakh away, the blade coming out with another gush of hot blood.
"You-!" Roakh screamed, and there was desperation as well as fear and anger in his eyes now.