“For centuries, the Bhrathair lived only because the Sandgorgons did not slay them all. But now I am the gaddhi of Bhrathairealm and all the Great Desert, and they are mine!”
He ended his speech with a gesture of florid pride; and suddenly the ebony chain slipped from his fingers.
Sailing black across the sunlight and the pale sand, the chain and medallion arced over the parapet and fell near the base of the Sandwall. Sand puffed at the impact, settled again. The dark sun of the medallion lay like a stain on the clean earth.
The gaddhi's women gasped, surged to the edge to look downward. The Giants peered over the parapet.
Rant Absolain did not move. He hugged his arms around his chest to contain a secret emotion.
Reacting like a good courtier, Rire Grist said quickly, “Fear nothing, O gaddhi. It will shortly be restored to you. I will send my aide to retrieve it.”
The soldier with him started back toward the stairs, clearly intending to reach one of the outer gates and return along the base of the Sandwall to pick up the medallion.
But the gaddhi did not look at the Caitiffin. “I want it now,” he snapped with petulant authority. “Fetch rope.”
At once, two Guards left the top of the wall, descended to the banquette, then entered the wall through the nearest opening.
Tautly, Linden searched for some clue to the peril. It thickened in the air at every moment. But the gaddhi's attitude was not explicit enough to betray his intent. Rire Grist's careful poise showed that he was playing his part in a charade-but she had already been convinced of that. Of the women, only the two Favoured exposed any knowledge of the secret. The Lady Benj's mien was hard with concealment. And the Lady Alif flicked covert glances of warning toward the company.
Then the hustin returned, bearing a heavy coil of rope. Without delay, they lashed one end to the parapet and threw the other snaking down the outer face of the Sandwall. It was just long enough to reach the sand.
For a moment, no one moved. The gaddhi was still. Honninscrave and Seadreamer were balanced beside the First, Vain appeared characteristically immune to the danger crouching on the wall; but Findail's eyes shifted as if he saw too much. The Haruchai had taken the best defensive positions available among the Guards.
For no apparent reason, Covenant said, “Don't touch me.”
Abruptly, Rant Absolain swung toward the company. Heat intensified his gaze.
“You.” His voice stretched and cracked under the strain. His right arm jerked outward, stabbing his rigid index finger straight at Hergrom. “I require my emblem.”
The gathering clenched. Some of the women bit their lips. The Lady Alif's hands opened, closed, opened again. Hergrom's face betrayed no reaction; but the eyes of all the Haruchai scanned the group, watching everything.
Linden struggled to speak. The pressure knotted her chest, but she winced out, “Hergrom, you don't have to do that.”
The First's fingers were claws at her sides. “The Haruchai are our comrades. We will not permit it.”
The gaddhi snapped something in the brackish tongue of the Bhrathair, Instantly, the hustin brought their spears to bear. In such close quarters, even the swiftness of the
Haruchai could not have protected their comrades from injury or death.
“It is my right!” Rant Absolain spat up at the First. “I am the gaddhi of Bhrathairealm! The punishment of offense is my duty and my right!”
“No!” Linden sensed razor-sharp iron less than a foot from the centre of her back. But in her fear for Hergrom she ignored it, “It was Kasreyn's fault. Hergrom was just trying to save Covenant's life.” She aimed her urgency at the Haruchai. “You don't have to do this.”
The dispassion of Hergrom's visage was complete. His detachment as he measured the Guards defined the company's peril more eloquently than any outcry. For a moment, he and Brinn shared a look. Then he turned to Linden.
“Chosen, we desire to meet this punishment, that we may see it ended.” His tone expressed nothing except an entire belief in his own competence-the same self-trust which had led the Bloodguard to defy death and time in the service of the Lords.
The sight clogged Linden's throat. Before she could swallow her dismay, her culpability, try to argue with him, Hergrom leaped up onto the parapet. Three strides took him to the rope.
Without a word to his companions, he gripped the line and dropped over the edge.
The First's eyes glazed at the extremity of her restraint. But three spears were levelled at her; and Honninscrave and Seadreamer were similarly caught.
Brinn nodded fractionally. Too swiftly for the reflexes of the Guards, Ceer slipped through the crowd, sprang to the parapet. In an instant, he had followed Hergrom down the rope.
Rant Absolain barked a curse and hastened forward to watch the Haruchai descend. For a moment, his fists beat anger against the stone. But then he recollected himself, and his indignation faded.
The spears did not let Linden or her companions move.
The gaddhi issued another command. It drew a flare of fury from the Swordmain's eyes, drove Honninscrave and Seadreamer to the fringes of their self-control.
In response, a Guard unmoored the rope. It fell heavily onto the shoulders of Hergrom and Ceer.
Rant Absolain threw a fierce grin at the company, then turned his attention back to the Haruchai on the ground.
“Now, slayer!” he cried in a shrill shout. “I require you to speak!”
Linden did not know what he meant. But her nerves yammered at the cruelty he emanated. With a wrench, she ducked under the spear at her back, surged toward the parapet. As her head passed the edge, her vision reeled into focus on Hergrom and Ceer. They stood in the sand with the rope sprawled around them. The gaddhi's medallion lay between their feet. They were looking upward.
“Run!” she cried. “The gates! Get to the gates!”
She heard a muffled blow behind her. A spearpoint pricked the back of her neck, pinning her against the stone.
Covenant was repeating his litany as if he could not get anyone to listen to him.
“Speak, slayer!” the gaddhi insisted, as avid as lust.
Hergrom's impassivity did not flicker. “No.”
“You refuse? Defy me? Crime upon crime! I am the gaddhi of Brathairealm! Refusal is treachery!”
Hergrom gazed his disdain upward and said nothing.
But the gaddhi was prepared for this also. He barked another brackish command. Several of his women shrieked.
Forcing her head to the side, Linden saw a Guard dangling a woman over the edge of the parapet by one ankle.
The Lady Alif, who had tried to help the company earlier.
She squirmed in the air, battering her fear against the Sandwall. But Rant Absolain took no notice of her. Her robe fell about her head, muffling her face and cries. Her silver anklets glinted incongruously in the white sunshine.