Iced On Aran by Brian Lumley

Author:Brian Lumley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates
Published: 2012-04-02T16:00:00+00:00

The first thing Eldin saw when he came to was Hero, red-eyed and haggard, glowering at him across the width of a tiny cell. They were both hanging in chains, manacled, feet on the cold stone floor—barely.

“Ow!” Eldin groaned. He wanted to finger the lump behind his ear, but of course couldn’t.

“‘Ow’?” Hero echoed him. “Is that all? Only an ‘ow’? In that case you’re lucky. Me, I don’t think my cranium can take much more of you!”

“Not now, lad,” Eldin quaveringly protested. “I deserve it, I know, but upbraid me later. Only not now. Give me a chance to think straight first.” And, after a moment: “What month is it?”

“Septober,” said Hero, “—or maybe Octember. It’s morning, anyway.”

Dawn’s light, feeble down here in Baharna’s guts, drifted in through the bars in cold, clinging wreaths of mist from the canal. The wall opposite the barred window featured a stout oak door with its own iron-barred hatch. Nothing else. No furniture, no amenities; nothing at all other than stone walls, floor and ceiling. “We’ve hung here the night?” Eldin turned his head this way and that, tenderly, his eyes slitted and deeply wrinkled at their outer corners.

Hero gave a painful nod. “Certainly feels like it,” he said.

“And the girls?”

“Too late to worry about them now. Just hope that Gan’s been a bit more lenient with them than he’s been with us, that’s all.”

“Huh!” grunted Eldin. “Lenient? What did they do? Come to think of it, what did we do—except long overdue civic duties at a well-earned launching? Slum clearance, I call it—with a bit of pest control thrown in. And all for free. That Chief Regulator, he’s got things up his sleeves.”

“So many, I’m surprised there’s room for his arms!” Hero agreed.

“But what in hell’s it all about, eh?”

“Dunno,” Hero shook his head—carefully.

There came a fluttering from beyond the bars at the window. Something pink perched a moment, squeezed its way into the cell, soared straight for Hero and settled on his head. A temple pigeon, message cylinder and all. “P-coo, p-coo, p-coo!” it said, complainingly.

“Couldn’t agree more, old chum,” said Hero, “we’re damned hard to find, I’m sure. But see, we’re sort of tied up right now.” He tried in vain to get his hands on the bird, remove its message.

“Now if only Kuranes would consider parrots,” said Eldin, “we’d—”

There sounded footsteps from outside, bolts were thrown back, and the door clanged open on its hinges. It was Raffis Gan and his bodyguards.

Gan took in the scene inside the cell at a glance. “Get that bird!” he snapped.

“Shoo!” Hero yelled, shaking his head wildly to dislodge the bird—which made him feel he’d dislodged his head. “Run, flap, flee, fly!—damn you!”

Too late. The bully-boys were into the cell, one blocking the window, the other snatching at the pigeon and knocking it from Hero’s head. To give the bird credit, even half-stunned it flapped for the window—straight into the ham fists of the Regulator there. He grabbed it out of the air, twisted its neck till it snapped.

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