Cold Blooded by Jackson Lear

Author:Jackson Lear [Lear, Jackson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-03-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty

Kasera’s vanguard had managed to wrangle three of Draegor’s people to the ground, injuring them sufficiently so they were too much of a liability to take back with them. They were all bearded, all hardy, but none looked like professional soldiers. Professional raiders, maybe, but they were more likely to have been sailors and fishermen before the fight began … which I guess was true for a lot of Ispar’s soldiers, who were masons, foragers, and carpenters until they needed to drive their sword into someone’s chest.

Of the three choices I went with the young blond guy first. Braided hair. Braided beard. Maybe twenty five years old. Almost as tall as me. Two streaks of vertical war paint down each eye. One of his legs seemed off, right around his knee. He didn’t dare move it.

I looked to Wilbur. “Where’s Lindum?”

“She went with Miss Kasera, sir.”

“Do we have another translator?”

“I can find someone. One of the villagers, maybe.”

“There’s a girl. Anka. About eleven years old. You might have seen me with her yesterday.”

“I think so.”

“Her.”

He ran off. The prisoners and I spent some time staring at each other. The other two were older, also with war paint over their faces, also with unique braids in their hair. They were sporting wounds and were bleeding out. They seemed well versed in being held prisoner and later exchanged for a ransom. If they hadn’t experienced it personally then they at least knew someone who had once been a captive. The young one was full of boyish bravura.

Wilbur returned with Anka and her grandfather hobbling behind. She could barely get one foot in front of the other for all of her trembling, terrified at the attack which had just destroyed her village.

“I’m sorry for what’s happened to your home and your loved ones but I need your help right now. Are you able to translate what I say to them?”

She squinted at me, her eyes locked onto my mouth as I spoke and weaving her head from side to side with every change of word. Yesterday she was fine with her language skills. Now? Not so much.

“There are three guys down there. Can you point to the blond one and – in Isparian – say ‘him’?”

She pointed at the young guy. “Him.”

The blond raider glanced between me and Anka, uncertain of what we were saying.

“Did you see any of these three hurt anyone you know?”

“No.”

“Can you point to the same blond guy and say ‘he did’?”

She did so. The blond guy sank back a little, his bravura slipping away.

I turned my attention onto him. “I have drugs that will ease the pain and I have a paste of fire ants that will burn your skin.” Anka translated.

The raider stared back at me, breathing deeply to combat his broken leg.

“So be it. I’ll ask you some questions. You will give me some attitude. Together we will waste each other’s time until things get unpleasant, so know this: there is no ransom here.” I waited for Anka to translate, more for the sake of the other two who were listening.

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