Master of Chains (The Fighters) by Jess Lebow

Author:Jess Lebow [Lebow, Jess]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780786964024
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast Publishing
Published: 2012-10-02T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 14

Ryder tried to ignore the current state of his life—namely, that if it weren’t for the cage, he’d be on his way back home. His captivity for the past few months afforded him no luxury except time, which made him long for it all the more. His wounds were now completely healed. He could easily make the trek, but there was little he could do to realize his desires. In the meantime, he focused his attention on getting accustomed to Fairhaven.

Once a day a young man by the name of Jase—a night watchman for the Broken Spear—would come and get Ryder out of his cage and escort him around the grounds so he could stretch his legs and get some exercise. There wasn’t much to the place. There were a few artifacts left over from the giants, but other than that, the abandoned palace was sparse.

The Broken Spear was composed of warriors. They had no families, no attachments, and no need to make aesthetic improvements. They didn’t even keep livestock or pets. Ryder assumed this was because it would be too difficult to get them up the ladders.

When he wasn’t out on a chaperoned walk, Ryder thought often of his home and of Samira. He wondered how Liam was doing. Probably already leading the Awl against Baron Purdun. He smiled to himself. Liam would keep everything in order while he was gone. The thought of Liam planning a raid against Zerith Hold made him swell with pride.

Nazeem spent his imprisonment tinkering with things. He had scavenged the entire cage, broken the thin branches off the brush growing in the dirt, and woven them together into mats, which he placed on the ground for the two of them to sleep on. With a small pile of dead leaves underneath them, they weren’t bad.

The Chultan had taken his imprisonment with the same even-tempered acceptance as he had the long, forced march from Zerith Hold. He had an amazing ability to accept the inevitable. Nazeem never seemed to get angry or sad. He just took everything as if it were all part of the plan. It made Ryder feel rather childish for being so homesick.

Over the past day the Chultan had also managed to fashion himself a sling out of a strap of discarded leather. There was plenty of ammunition, and Nazeem was sorting through every pebble and stone he could reach, looking for the pointy ones.

As day turned into night, Nazeem sat cross-legged in the corner of their cell. He dropped a double handful of stones on the ground and began sorting them.

“You better be careful with that,” said Ryder, looking at the sling his friend had built. “You could give a man a nasty headache with one of those stones.” Ryder laughed at his own joke.

Nazeem only smiled, then stood up and placed one of the rocks in his sling. He spun it around once quickly, then let the stone fly. The projectile whizzed through the air and slammed into the stone wall behind Ryder with tremendous force.

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