The prisoner lifted his face and stared at Krailash. He shouted wordlessly and flung himself toward the dragonborn, clutching one of his scaled legs and weeping against his knee. Krailash grunted. “Were you lost in the jungle, my friend?”
The man looked up. “Krailash,” he said, and the dragonborn stiffened. “I have been lost in the dark. I never thought I’d find you again.”
“Rainer,” Krailash breathed, then began bellowing, shouting at his men to lower their spears, to fetch blankets and food and water, to bring Alaia, to go now. Zaltys gaped as Krailash picked up the prisoner and strode off toward the center of the camp, carrying the man like a father cradling a baby.
Julen took another bite of his apple, watching them depart. “Who’s Rainer?”
“He was a guard,” Quelamia said. “He disappeared a long time ago. We’d assumed he was killed. Apparently he just got lost.”
“Lucky he was able to find the camp again,” Julen said.
“Yes.” Quelamia had a faraway look on her face, but then, she usually did. “Quite remarkable, actually. Almost unbelievable.” She hopped off the cart-she somehow managed to do it gracefully-and moved off after Krailash.
“Are mornings always this exciting?” Julen said.
“People hardly ever wander in out of the woods and then hug our chief of security,” Zaltys said.
“More’s the pity,” Julen said. “Funniest thing I’ve seen in ages.”
Zaltys was hoping to find out more about the man, but he was taken into Alaia’s cart, along with Krailash and Glory, and when Zaltys knocked, her mother irritably told her to come back later, they were busy. So much for being a full member of the family, she thought, and went out to walk the perimeter. She looked for Julen, thinking she could teach him about the camp’s defenses, but he was nowhere to be seen-apparently the Guardians taught you how to avoid work along with how to pick locks and poison knives. The jungle beckoned-she wanted to try out her new gifts, especially since no guards would trail after her-but she was unwilling to leave when the camp was buzzing with rumors and speculation about the wild man who’d somehow cheated death.
A few hours later Zaltys found Glory near the cook tent, gnawing a rib bone and frowning. Zaltys sat down on the rough wooden bench across from the tiefling and said, “Is that man all right? Rainer?”
Glory grunted. “I scanned his mind. Ugly mess in there. Very dark. Lots of mental blocks, which I didn’t care to push through, because who wants to see what kind of horrible snakepits of memory he’s had to cover up? He is who he says, though, as far as I can tell. Poor bastard.”
“He was underground?” Zaltys said, horrified. “All this time?”
“You know about the Underchasm,” Glory said.
Zaltys nodded. “Where all that land collapsed.” The Underchasm was a pit the size of a sea, collapsed in the great upheavals that had made Delzimmer a coastal city.
“What do you think all that land collapsed into?” Glory said. “There are vast caverns beneath us. The Underdark.” She shuddered. “Rainer’s been down there.”
“What, lost?”
“Enslaved,” Glory said. She tossed the bone, picked clean, on the ground for the camp dogs. “His mind’s a wreck, but he’s in good shape physically. Toiling for monsters underground is good exercise. Be careful if you go out in the woods. Whatever monsters took Rainer and dragged him underground could be looking for him.” She yawned. “Probing his mind was too much like work. They had me clean things up in there a bit too, so he could maybe sleep again someday. I couldn’t take away all the bad experiences, though, not without turning him into nothing but a body without thought or will. The bad experiences are too much a part of who he is. Ugly business. I need a nap.” Glory rose and sauntered away.
Zaltys went to her mother’s wagon, knocked on the door, and entered at her mother’s call.
Alaia looked up from her folding desk, where she was writing a letter. “Oh, hello, dear,” she said absently. “Quite a lot of commotion this morning, hmm?”
Zaltys unfolded one of the camp chairs tucked into a corner and sat down. “Is that man all right? Rainer?”
Her mother sighed. “For a certain value of ‘all right,’ I suppose so. He went through terrible ordeals, things we can’t even imagine. But Glory was able to soothe him a bit.”
“What will happen to him now?” She thought of the broken men she saw sometimes in Delzimmer, begging for coins by the harbor or just sitting, blank-faced, in empty doorways. Would that be Rainer’s fate?
“He was lost and injured while in the employ of the family,” Alaia said. “So the family will care for him, just as we would for a laborer crippled in the fields or a soldier maimed in our service. He’ll always have a livelihood in our employ.”
“He won’t … He can’t become a guard again.”
Alaia shook her head. “He was one of Krailash’s best men, but that was long ago. If he recovers fully and he wants to-but no. I think, once the family physicians and healers have made sure he’s not too ill, he will be given some less difficult task to do. A position in one of the households, or working in the gardens or kitchens. And if he’s not up to even that much work … Don’t worry, he’ll be kept comfortable.”
Comfortable. Zaltys imagined him sitting in a chair at a window, staring out at some peaceful vista, his mind broken. “Where is he now?”
Alaia gestured vaguely northward. “I sent him back to Delzimmer on horseback with a couple of the guards. Having him here in the camp, talking about slavers stealing people away into the darkness … I didn’t want him worrying the laborers. And, besides, I’m sure he wants as much distance between himself and this jungle as possible.”
Zaltys touched the hilt of the knife at her belt. “But shouldn’t we be worried about slavers? Glory said whoever took Rainer might be looking for him-”
Alaia put her pen down and massaged her writing hand, wincing as she pulled each finger and made the knuckles pop. “Glory enjoys making people worried and uncomfortable. But, yes, I’ve posted more sentries around the camp, and Krailash is letting his people know they should be alert. If any nasty creatures do come boiling up out of a hole in the ground, we’ll drive them back. Now, my darling daughter, if you don’t mind, I need to write a few more letters, to arrange for Rainer’s care back in Delzimmer.” Alaia shooed her away, so Zaltys folded up her chair and left the wagon.
She decided to go looking for Krailash, but she found Julen along the way, squatting in the shadow of a supply cart, an array of glittering bits of metal spread out on a cloth before him. Zaltys crouched down beside him, though she stayed out of the shade. Unlike most of the other people in camp, she didn’t mind the heat of the sun pounding down on the clearing. “What’s all this?”
“Lockpicks,” he said, holding up a narrow twist of black metal and squinting at it. “I had to leave home in a hurry, and I wanted to make sure I didn’t forget anything.” He sighed. “Not that there are any locks worth speaking of to practice on out here. What with the general lack of doors. My skills are going to get all rusty out here in the wilderness. I don’t know how I’ll pass my practical exam this fall. At least I’ll be able to keep up with my poisons and knife-throwing-no end of nasty creatures out here to kill, at least. And I’m sure I’ll be bitten by dozens of horrible animals, which can’t hurt in developing my resistance to poisons. Did you know in the Guardians we eat tiny amounts of poison for breakfast every day, to build up immunities? We’re supposed to carry a ridiculous array of antidotes and anti-venoms with us too. I must say, I prefer the bits of the job that involve knives.” He rolled up the cloth of lockpicks and tucked it away in a small traveler’s pack.
“You Guardians and your toys,” Zaltys said, shaking her head.
He snorted. “This from a woman with a clutch of magical arrows in her quiver?”