Carol Berg - Rai-kirah 01 by Transformation

Author:Transformation
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-02-10T21:56:05+00:00

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CHAPTER 20

A Derzhi!” Hoffyd spit at Aleksander’s feet. “What makes you think I’ll take you one step closer to my people? Did you torture the slave to discover the way?”

I prepared to leap in between them, but Aleksander’s clenched fist did not stray from his side. “I was given it freely,” said the Prince. “In exchange for my word not to bring the law of the Empire down on your heads.”

“The word of a murdering Derzhi.”

“I should cut out your tongue for that.” Aleksander turned his back to Hoffyd and waved at me. “Saddle our horses.”

“Please, my lord, I’m sure the gentleman had no intent to question your honor. The boy swore that these people could help you be rid of this curse.”

“Even our enemies know that our word is the water of life to us.”

“Please, my lord.”

“I will not argue the matter, nor will I beg. Just tell me if my informant was wrong. Do Ezzarians heal demon enchantments or do they not?” The Prince was frosted steel. Though I could well understand Hoffyd’s sentiments, I wanted to kick him for his careless speech.

I poked at the fire and it flared up, lighting Hoffyd’s round angry face like a second moon. Though he was no more than forty-five, his hair had gone completely gray, and he wore a patch over one eye. That must be a sore trial to him. He had been a voracious reader, managing to get his hands on every book that found its way into Ezzaria within a week of its arrival. His cheeks were flushed, and his chin quivered with indignation. “What demon enchantment could harm a Derzhi?”

They weren’t getting anywhere. Aleksander moved toward his horse again, but I grabbed his arm, cringing at my own audacity. “My lord,” I said. “Did not the slave tell you another word to say? To convince them of your need?” Under my breath I whispered it as if Aleksander might remember it from my silent mouthings.

“Fead… something. I don’t remember his gibberish. He said I had it along with the enchantment. It sounded like a disease. He said it would make these people listen.”

“Fead…” It took Hoffyd a moment to grasp it. I wanted to shake him until the word popped from his tongue. “Not the feadnach? Surely not.”

“Yes, that was it, wasn’t it, Pytor?”

“Aye, my lord. That was the word. He said you bore this feadnach within you, and that because of it, the Ezzarians could not refuse to help you.”

Hoffyd’s cheeks sagged. “Someone told you that you—a Derzhi—bore the feadnach? Who was it? What was the name?”

Aleksander glanced at me uncertainly.

“He was a youth captured in Capharna a few weeks ago,” I said. “He did not want to say his name.”

The Ezzarian closed his eyes for a moment—a silent mourning for Llyr, I guessed—before continuing more quietly. “A Derzhi who bears the feadnach? Impossible.” Hoffyd’s disbelief echoed my own. “The boy was not skilled enough. Who knows what he imagined? Perhaps he thought it would save him.

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