“No.” Rodario followed the two of them outside and stood by Mallenia. “I wanted to try the gentle approach first. He seemed very distressed so I thought rough and loud treatment wouldn’t prove helpful.”
Tungdil drew Bloodthirster, placing the weapon’s tip at the man’s throat. “Talk!”
“Franek,” he stammered. “My name is Franek.”
Ireheart grinned. Occasionally there was something to be said for the dwarf-technique of interrogation.
“What brought you here? Why are you dressed like Nudin?” Tungdil gave him a kick that had him over on his back. “I don’t have time to waste. We’re looking for a woman…”
“I saw her!” Franek said quickly, raising his hands. “Please don’t! I saw her! I know which way she went.”
Ireheart had his crow’s beak ready. “He could have been sent by Lot-Ionan to lead us into a trap.”
“But how would he know we were coming?” Rodario studied Franek. “Shouldn’t we hear his story first?”
“For me the queen is more important,” interjected Mallenia. “And the same should go for all of us, surely?” She addressed the putative famulus. “Tell us! Where did she go?”
He slowly lifted his arm and pointed east. “To the Votons. She’ll be dead by now.”
“Who are the Votons?” Tungdil did not remove Bloodthirster from the man’s throat.
“Hideous beings. Chimera, the result of Vot’s experiments. He was one of Lot-Ionan’s famuli,” he explained, breathless with fear. “They used to be humans but he equipped them with the limbs of animals. They broke out of his laboratories and fled here.”
Tungdil gave orders to Barskalin in a language they did not understand and the Zhadar raced off; then he turned to Rodario. “You stay and keep an eye on our friend here. He’ll have a few more questions to answer when we get back with the queen.”
Ireheart shook his head doubtfully. “We’re setting an actor to guard a famulus?”
“If he could still do magic he probably wouldn’t look like a dog that’s been beaten half to death.” The one-eyed dwarf indicated the quiescent runes on his armor as evidence there was no magic activity present. “Slin can keep you company. The rest of you-come with me.” He charged after the Invisibles, leaving the three of them alone in the courtyard.
Slin closed the gate and lit a fire. Rodario handed Franek something to drink and brought over a few old timbers to sit on.
The fourthling laid his loaded crossbow on his knee. He scanned their surroundings carefully, on watch.
“Right, then, Franek. How about you help us to while away the time by telling us what made you want to carry on Nudin’s work?” Rodario sliced some bread and ham. He gave some to Slin, and the rest he passed to the famulus. “So you were apprenticed to Lot-Ionan?”
Franek looked at the actor. “A group of dwarves in black armor, an actor and a blond woman, all looking for a queen-that all seems very odd.”
“Don’t try to turn things around, my friend. You are going to report first,” said Rodario. “Or I take your food away.”
“I’ll shoot it out of his mouth for him,” Slin offered, lifting the bow. “The food and bolt will fly out together through the back of his neck.”
Franek stretched out his hands to the warmth of the flames. Out of the sun it quickly grew cool; spring had not yet transformed the winter nights. “All right. I’ll tell you.” He took a deep breath.
“I’ll know if you’re spinning a yarn,” the fourthling warned him before he began. “Then my finger will jerk on the crossbow and you know what will happen next.”
Rodario looked at him, tight-lipped. Franek began his story.
“Ingratitude. That’s all I ever got from the magus. A girl friend and I fetched him out of a cellar in Porista when he was imprisoned there as a statue. We escaped from the guards, but the statue was stolen by other famuli. I nearly died. When I had recovered, I tried to enter Lot-Ionan’s service. I wanted to become a magus, and that’s how I was granted my longevity.” He asked for, and was given, more water. “I was always there when he needed me. Together we conquered the Blue Mountains and annihilated the dwarves…”
“Charming. Tell us something different,” growled Slin, waving the crossbow. “My finger gets itchy when I hear stuff like that.”
“As I was saying. We closed the gate to the south. And I supported him when he was nearly killed by the leader of the black-eyes. And how did he repay me?” He indicated his apparel. “Threw me out, he did.”
“Not without reason, I expect?” Rodario listened carefully, trying to see if Franek was lying. He hadn’t noticed anything yet.
“For a stupid reason.”
“What was it?” Slin’s fingers caressed the crossbow. “I want to know.”
Franek sighed. “The magic source. No one is allowed near it to refresh their powers without his permission.”
“But you went there anyway?”
“What choice did I have? He was asleep and I had to…” He stopped. “Anyway. One of the other famuli woke Lot-Ionan and told on me. So he drove me out of the caves and allowed all the other famuli to hunt me down and try to kill me. Traitors had to be punished, he said.”
“He’s right there,” muttered Slin with a grin.
“If it hadn’t been for me he’d still have been lying in a cellar in Porista, the old fool!” Franek did not follow up Slin’s remark. “I escaped through the deserts of Sangpur. Finally there was only one of them on my tail, and I threw him off the scent near where the Votons hang out.” He looked at Rodario. “I thought you were him, that’s why I ran away.”
“How many pupils does the magus still have?”
“Four. Two of them are not much use, but he hasn’t noticed that yet. Vot and Bumina are his best ones, apart from me, of course.” Franek shrugged. “There’s really nothing else to tell.”
Slin looked at Rodario. “Didn’t he just say he’d shaken off his pursuer near the Votons?”
The actor had been watching Franek’s features so closely for signs of dissembling that he had missed this detail. “By Palandiell! We must warn the others!”
Slin looked doubtful. “How would you find them in the dark? My sight is sharper than yours, but I can’t run so fast.” Without warning, he shot Franek in the thigh. The man collapsed with an agonized cry. “Serves you right, you treacherous long-un. For every one of our lot that gets hurt there’ll be another crossbow bolt for you. Three if anyone’s killed. Luckily, you’re long enough to have room for several shots.” He reloaded.
“Stop it, Slin!” Rodario called out. He could understand his comrade’s anger. Franek had purposely kept them in the dark about the danger.
Rodario helped the victim to extract the bolt from his flesh and bandaged the injury with a strip of material they cut out of his robe.
“I forgot about Droman,” whimpered the famulus, clutching his leg. The bandage was already soaked through with blood. “I swear by Samusin that I didn’t send your friends off to danger on purpose.”
“Well,” said Slin, “pain’s good for making you remember.” He did not regret having shot the man.
Rodario got up and went to the gate, opening it a crack. He looked at the crippled, charred trees.
There were particularly tall ones by the barn, stretching up into the night sky, and they cast long shadows. He could neither see nor hear anything of the Ido girl or the dwarves.
“How strong is Droman?” he called back into the yard.
“His sorcery, you mean?” Franek groaned, tearing off a second bandage from his clothing to stop the bleeding. “He’s not as good as me if my magic is working properly. But my magic powers are exhausted. I can’t even heal myself.” He looked at Slin. “So I’d be as vulnerable as you or this mole fellow here.”
Rodario saw a shadow in the woods. It was bent double and making its way over to the barn, dodging from tree to tree. “Not nice,” he murmured, both in reply to Franek’s words and in response to the sight.
The worrying thing was that the longer he stared, the more shadows he thought he could see. The silhouettes did not look human.