Geth stiffened instinctively and shouted back, “Commander! Yes, commander!” before he even thought about it, then jerked and caught himself. He looked up at Robrand in shock. The old man looked startled as well. A grimace of distaste crossed his face.
“Old habits don’t die easily,” he said.
“No,” said Geth. “I guess they don’t.” His stomach roiled so intensely that he thought he might be sick.
To one side of them, the air seemed to fold and then part as Dandra stepped out of it, spear at the ready, the droning chorus of whitefire surrounding her. She blinked at the sight of Chain’s unconcious form and the chorus faded. “We heard Robrand-” she began, then her eyes darted to Geth’s hand, the crossbow bolt still piercing it. “Geth!”
The distaste on Robrand’s face vanished and suddenly he was once more the personable, pleasant old soldier he had been on the journey from Vralkek. “Get Geth out of the hole, Dandra,” he ordered. “Singe! Send Orshok up first to tend Geth’s wounds.”
The next few minutes were a flurry of activity. Robrand cut the cord of Chain’s snare, freeing Geth. Dandra took his free hand and hauled him free of the hole. A moment later, Orshok emerged, dusty and pale. As the others followed, the druid drew Geth away from the hole and examined his wounded hand, then took out a knife and carefully trimmed one end off the bolt so he could slide it free from the wound. Renewed pain burned through Geth’s hand, but he clenched his teeth until Orshok spoke a healing prayer. Magic like a cool breeze closed the wound.
Geth let out a sigh and flexed his hand. “Twice tak,” he said.
“There’s probably going to be a scar,” Orshok apologized. “The wound was almost too much for my magic. Batul or Krepis could have done more.”
“I can live with another scar,” said Geth. He jerked his head at Chain. The big man was groaning as Singe and Natrac tied his arms with his own cord. Blood and dirt had mixed to make a dark, patchy mess on the bounty hunter’s face. “Especially if I’ve given him more than he gave me.”
Singe finished tying Chain and stood up to face Robrand. “It’s lucky you came along, old man, but somehow I don’t think it’s an accident you were out here. And I don’t think Tzaryan knows you’re here. If this was his business, you really would have ogres with you.”
“I was looking for you, Etan,” Robrand said bluntly. “It’s Ekhaas. Tzaryan’s getting impatient. I think he thought you would talk to her before you started exploring the ruins.”
“There wasn’t time.”
“There’s going to be even less time. Tzaryan’s given orders to begin her interrogation.” He contemplated the hole in the ground. “Is this Ekhaas’s work, too? Tzaryan’s not going to be pleased with that.”
Singe let out a hiss. “He said he’d let me talk to Ekhaas before he tortured her-and you said he honored his word.”
“He has limits.” Robrand looked back toward the keep. “The ogres are waiting for my return-I was able to hold them back that long.”
“Then your timing’s good. We were going to talk to her when we got back anyway.” He pressed his lips together, then added, “We found what we needed in the ruins, Robrand. We’ll be leaving tomorrow. We have to get back to the Shadow Marches.”
Robrand nodded. “You can take the horses you rode here on. I’ll arrange for supplies-”
A loud groan from Chain interrupted them. The big man’s eyes opened and fixed on his bound hands. His muscles tensed as he strained at the cord. Nothing happened. He looked up to stare at them all angrily. His gaze settled you on Robrand and his lips twisted. “How-? You were close! I couldn’t have missed.”
Singe picked up a pebble and flicked it at Robrand. There was a tiny flash of light and the pebble dropped to the ground without touching the old man. Chain scowled. “Deneith!” he spat in digust.
“Don’t feel bad,” Robrand told him. “I’ve been outwitting marksmen longer than you’ve been alive. If it means anything, you’ve got a steady hand.”
Ashi gave the old man a puzzled look. “You used your dragonmark to protect yourself?”
Robrand nodded.
The hunter tilted her head. “Why not just use it to protect Geth?”
“He was safe enough.” Robrand waved his hand dismissively. “It’s exactly what I told Chain-if he killed Geth, he had nothing left to bargain with. But by using my mark on myself, I was able to surprise him and free all of you. Sometimes shielding yourself is the best way to shield someone else.” He gestured for Ashi and Natrac to get Chain on his feet. “Bring him along. Tzaryan’s going to want to have a word with him. I don’t think he’ll be bothering you again.”
Dandra winced and Geth knew she was remembering Bava’s story of the Tharashk prospectors who had run afoul of the lord of Tzaryan Keep. “Is that necessary? Maybe there’s something less drastic.”
Robrand shook his head. “Tzaryan takes his authority very seriously, Dandra. No one crosses him and gets away with it.”
Chain went pale, struggling and cursing as Ashi and Natrac hauled him to his feet. The hunter and the half-orc didn’t look any happier at escorting him to an unpleasant fate. Geth saw Dandra glance at Singe with a beseeching look in her eyes, but Singe just gave her a slight shake of his head. Geth understood the wizard’s dilemma: there wasn’t much use arguing with Robrand once the old man had decided on something.
He was half-surprised himself that Robrand had bothered to rescue him from Chain at all.
At the gates of Tzaryan Keep, a call from Robrand brought ogres racing down the broad stairs to take charge of Chain. The ogres were far less gentle than Natrac and Ashi. They put an end to Chain’s struggles with a quick slap to the back of his head and a couple of brutal twists on his arms. The big man looked small and maybe even forlorn in their grasp. Geth felt a twinge of pity for him. He wouldn’t have wanted to be in his place.
They all followed up the canyon of the stairs to the upper levels of the keep, then through halls Geth didn’t recognize until they came to the head of another flight of stairs plunging back down into the keep’s innards. Unlike the broad stairs that led up from the gate, these were steep, plunging sharply down. The oversize steps-built for the feet of ogres-made navigating them difficult. Geth noticed that Dandra gave up trying to walk and let herself skim above the steps, sliding down them like a child on a smooth hill, supported by her psionic power.
There was no natural light at all in the depths of the keep. Orc slaves summoned by Robrand carried torches ahead and behind. The flickering light made the stairs especially treacherous, but without them, Geth knew, he would have been as night-blind as a human. Only Orshok and Natrac, with their orc-blood ability to see even in absolute darkness, seemed comfortable, though Natrac once again reacted with ill-concealed disgust to the presence of Tzaryan’s slaves.
When the first flight of stairs ended, they passed along a hallway that was thick with the stench of ogre bodies and echoed with the sounds of rough leisure.
“The troops’ barracks are that way,” Robrand explained, gesturing off into the darkness. He turned in another direction, and they descended another steep flight of stairs before stopping in a second hallway that smelled even worse than the first. Geth’s nose wrinkled at a mixture of hot coals, damp stone, and stale waste.
Robrand stopped at a thick wooden door and pulled it open. “This will do,” he said. “Put him in here until Tzaryan decides his punishment.”
The ogres brought Chain forward and muscled him through the door. The best bounty hunter in Zarash’ak looked substantially more frightened than he had chained in the hold of Lightning on Water. He ran at the door as the ogres forced it closed.
“Help me!” he shouted. “Don’t let them-”
The door closed in his face and the ogres dropped a heavy bar into place across it. Singe looked to Robrand. “I don’t like him, but do you think you can get Tzaryan to release him without doing anything too permanent?”