The Treasure of Far Thallai by Robin D. Laws

Author:Robin D. Laws [Laws, Robin D.]
Language: por
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5

Becalmed

The harpies had strewn an assortment of bones around their nest, mostly human, all well gnawed.

As my adjutants stripped the monstrous corpses of their jewels, they tripped over rib cages and tumbled skulls from their resting places. Among the gruesome litter I spotted also the skeletons of elves and halflings. Not all of them had been adults. The large bones had been cracked open to get at the marrow. I wished one ofthe harpies would rise back to life, so I could send it right back to Hell.

A burlap sack, blotched with rusty stains, held a man sized form. A dirty length of cord tied its mouth shut. I stepped my way through the pile ofbones and slain harpies to tear loose the cord and open the sack.

My shoulders slumped in frustration-the pot-bellied, white-haired man inside appeared to be dead. Then came a flutter of movement. A blue tinge below the eyes told the tale: He’d been dosed with a sedative. I waved Otondo over and dug into the supply pack he carried on his back. Though the healers back on the ship likely had a cheaper remedy, I uncorked a healing potion and dribbled its contents onto his lips. The man awoke with a start. Goggling in terror, he scuttled back, clutching at his hip and finding only an empty scabbard. His frantic effort to free his legs from the sack entangled him further.

I knelt down, placing a foot on the burlap to help him work himself free. Gently taking hold of his right arm, I pulled it clear ofthe sack. The forefinger was missing.

We’d found Twill Ninefingers.

“My name is Challys Argent,” I said.

Comprehension eluded him; it would take him a few more moments to shake offthe mind-dulling effects oft he sleep draught. He held out his hands, as ifafraid I was about to run him through. A shadow passed over my shoulder: it was Otondo. “What have I told you about looming?” I said. The ogre retreated, smirking. Twill’s expression veered from abject dread to mere apprehension.

“We came here to rescue you,” I told him.

“W-why?” he managed. Like the nest around him, he stank of carrion. A general pallor, coupled with inflammation of the eyelids, showed that he had not been properly fed in a good long time. Judging from his sagging cheeks, he’d

begun his recent misadventures as a much portlier man.

“You are Twill Ninefingers, the famous lockbreaker?”

“Who wants to know?”

“As I said, I am Challys Argent, captain ofthe Aspidochelone.”

“If you are she … ” He swiveled his gaze to each of my adjutants in turn. “… then these are the Devil’s Four!”

Otondo chortled at the term, which I had not heard before.

“If you have heard that much about them,” I told Twill, “you are also aware that they now atone for their past crimes.”

“No one believes that will last,” he whispered.

“She does,” said Aspodell.

I moved to block Twill’s view of the others. “Whether you think they serve me or the devil, you’ll have to admit we’re preferable to a nest of ravening harpies.

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