White Sands, Red Steel by Keith C Blackmore

Author:Keith C Blackmore
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fantasy, Epic, Fiction
ISBN: 9781498919869
Publisher: Keith C Blackmore
Published: 2013-09-04T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 24

Somewhere in He-Dog’s pickled dream, he saw himself, Balless, and Chop being herded through the city. He remembered a long road of fitted stone, leading to a gate of bronze and wood. The words “inner keep” penetrated his drunken haze, but upon entering the place, he thought that it was more of a palace. Everything was clean and shone, and glittered under the torchlight. Chop vomiting somewhere along the way, spoiling the pristine whiteness of a wall, and both he and Balless damned-near burst restraining their giggles. Captain Galt didn’t think much of Chop for heaving the entire load of his stomach onto the pretty stones. He-Dog remembered muttering something about allowing savages into their house, and that earned him one of the most dangerous stares he’d seen in a while.

It was a good thing he was pickled, was all he knew.

Galt spoke about allowing them time to sober up before a meeting, and He-Dog magically found himself on his back, staring up at a dark ceiling. His lads lay around him, breathing, belching, and trying to sleep. Sleep came slowly to He-Dog. Every time he closed his eyes the room began to spin.

If it wasn’t for the amount of drink in him, he would have better enjoyed the ride.

The nightmares came shortly after.

He-Dog woke to pounding on the chamber door. It opened and white-robed servants brought trays filled with pitchers and fresh-baked bread. They placed the food and drink on a table and departed. He-Dog watched them the entire time, wondering if they were part of another dream. When they were gone, he sat up on a comfortable pallet and smacked his lips. Balless and Chop lay asleep nearby on pallets of their own, and He-Dog thought it strange that he had slept on a straw bed in such fine guest quarters. Then he remembered who he was and scowled. Hate bubbled from his core and slowly dried out his senses.

He-Dog got to his feet and examined himself, still in the clothes Sergius had given him. He picked up one of the pitchers, found it filled with water, and downed a third of it before stopping for breath.

The sound woke Balless.

“Where are we?” he muttered sleepily.

He-Dog shook his head and nodded at the food.

Balless scowled at the bread, but gladly took a pitcher and drank.

He-Dog went to a shuttered window and threw it open. Sunlight blazed in and almost scorched the eyes from his head. Outside, evening ripened the skies.

The main door opened once again. Chop jolted awake and the three of them looked upon a frowning Captain Galt. A handful of warriors appeared at the officer’s back.

“Excellent,” he said. “You slept the whole day away. I haven’t seen that kind of drinking since my days on street patrol. You should all be dead.” His gaze drifted from one slack face to the next. “Finish up quickly and I’ll take you to see the Kratoe. He’s very interested in speaking with you.”

He-Dog exchanged wary looks with Balless. “What about?”

Galt’s hard features lightened in amusement.

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