Night Calls the Raven (Book 2 of The Master of the Tane) (15 page)

“It’s because of what made you sick,” he soothed. “You were poisoned. The poison makes you go into fits at times that could hurt you or,” he paused, rubbing his throat with his other hand, “others.”

She opened her eyes and looked at him. She looked like a frightened doe. “Won’t you untie me, Dor? You know I wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

He was still rubbing his neck and thought
Right, like I wanted your fingerprints permanently embedded into the skin on my neck
.

A tear formed at the corner of her eye and her mouth started to quiver. “Please, Dor,” she whispered. “The ropes are so tight. Please.”

He suddenly felt conflicted. It was only hours before that she had tried to rip his head off his shoulders in a
dranlok
induced rage. But she was so fragile and pitiful looking. He felt his heart aching for her.

“Please, Dor,” her voice whined softly. “I just want to sit up for a moment and stretch my arms. Please.” The tear that had formed was now sliding down her cheek followed by more.

The way she was looking at him and the way her voice quivered made his head feel light. She was so helpless. And seeing her cry was almost too much. He suddenly felt a tremendous urge to protect her and not let anything hurt her. He looked at the ropes. They were tight. He remembered Kat cinching them down with that awful look on her face. What harm would it do to loosen them for a moment and let her stretch a little bit? He knew what it felt like to be stuck in a bed for long days. What harm would it do? Afterwards he would just tie her down again. And, he wouldn’t untie her feet so she would still be stuck in the bed.

“Please,” she whispered again, the look on her face too much for him to endure.

“All right, Tam,” he squeaked. For some reason his mouth had gone dry. “But just for a moment. Then I have to tie you back to protect you, agreed?”
              Her face brightened as she flashed a beautiful smile at him. “Agreed.”

He felt his face get hot and flushed. At that moment, he felt like he would do anything she asked. Reluctantly, he let go of her hand and then grabbed at the rope around her wrist. Twisting it about
he found that it had been tied better than he originally thought.

“What are you doing,” she asked, the urgency building in her voice. “Why aren’t you untying me?”

“I’m trying,” he huffed, his frustration obvious as sweat started to bead on his forehead. “These knots are too tight.”

Tam’s head lifted up, her voice growing louder. “Can’t you cut it? Don’t you have a knife or something?”

He looked down at her and flinched, the animal rage had returned to her face. He jumped back from the bed with a horrified look. What had he almost done?

“What are you doing?” Her voice bit the air with its venom. “Come back here and let me go.”

Dor just stared at her pitifully and shook his head. “I can’t,” he said just over a whisper. “I’m sorry, Tam, but you’re not well.”

Her face suddenly changed back to the sobbing innocent she had been only moments before, the animal pushed away. “I’m sorry, Dor. I didn’t mean to get upset. It’s just that these ropes are digging into my skin. It hurts so badly. Please, Dor, just loosen them a little. That’s all I ask. Just loosen them.” Her voice was full of pleading and regret pulling at his heart again to see her lying there like she was. Her eyes captured him not letting him go as he struggled inside. He wanted to believe her. More than anything he felt that he wanted to untie her and hold her and let her know it would be all right.

“I can’t,” he finally whispered. “I’m sorry.”

The animal returned in an instant. Tam jerked about trying to pull out of the ropes but they had her down too tightly. She couldn’t pull free. “Let me out of here you mound of goblin dung!” she screeched. “Let me out and give it back to me! I know you took it! Give it back or I’ll kill you!”

Her face was a contortion of pure hatred and demonic rage. Thrashing about, she screamed, cursing and threatening him. Dor just stood back and watched, trying to sooth her by telling her it would be all right but she was beyond reason, first yelling and then crying, trying everything she could to get free or to convince him to let her go. But it was too late. She had revealed her intentions and he knew that to let her go in such a state might very well mean his life.

Finally, after an especially long and powerful rant she collapsed onto her bed and quickly fell unconscious, her energy spent.

CHAPTER NINE

He woke with a start as a bright light washed over his face in a blinding flash. Certain his life was in danger, he pushed against the carpeted floor trying to position
himself into a defensive position but found he was too weak to sit up. All he could manage was to prop himself on an elbow. The light was suddenly blocked by the outline of a person standing in what was evidently a doorway. Blinking against the light, trying to adjust his eyes, he could not determine if the individual was a friend or foe though he kept his body tensed with anticipation. The person didn’t appear to be in an aggressive stance, although he felt that he should fear…what? Something didn’t feel right but he couldn’t grasp what it was.

His mind whirled in a cacophony of thoughts and images that blurred together in a mass that made his stomach upset. He tried to sort the images and hold onto something solid but they kept crashing against his consciousness like the waves of the sea during a violent storm. Switching his focus back to his visitor he tried his best to ignore the noise in his head and concentrate instead on the immediate danger.

“
T’ach’ned t’omane’bar d’ne anar namani
. Rest easy, you have nothing to fear from me,
namani
.
J’udak’int t’jafna obik
. I bring food for you to eat.” It was a woman’s voice that drawled thick with accent. It wasn’t an accent he could place though. Somehow he knew that it was different but he couldn’t tell why or even how he knew it. Though obviously female, the voice was fairly deep and had a hard edge.

“Shi Lo
Ko Sho Kaysão?”

“What?” the woman asked as she moved closer and the light suddenly winked out. He tensed for a moment, his vision briefly dropping into darkness before it quickly returned. He could see
the woman clearly now. So clearly in fact, he was surprised to see her light a reed in a brazier set not too far from where he lay and then proceed to light candles that were positioned throughout the room. It was then that he finally took stock of his surroundings. The walls were fabric. He was in some sort of large tent but only the walls gave away that he was not in a more permanent structure. Many intricate tapestries hung about the room in breathtaking splendor. Many were of horses and riders galloping to war, others depicted scenes from great and glorious battles, another caught the dying breath of a past hero. All had the taste of battle but surprisingly their workmanship was of such exquisite quality that the actions depicted were almost lovely. Two armoires made of dark cherry wood stood against the walls on either side of him and chairs of the same type were scattered about the room.

His visitor had just finished lighting the candles that hung on sconces dropping down from the ceiling when he noticed the two sword handles sticking up from scabbards tied to her back. He had not seen them before. They were such a part of her that they seemed to mold to and move with her body. He eyed her closely now; really seeing her for the first time, and found it made the hair on his neck tingled. There was danger in this woman, and yet, he did not feel threatened by her. Still, he had to be careful. Like the tapestries, she was death enshrouded in beauty. The way she moved was sinuous and fluid like water over a smooth rock. She was tall though not as tall as he and wore brightly colored pants with a pattern of stars dyed across them. Her shirt hung loosely about her top but was not so large and baggy to get in her way should she need to draw and use her swords. Unlike her pants, though, it was a rather plain, deep blue with no visible design.

Moving his eyes to her face he caught the slight flash of a tiny red gem that was pierced through her left nostril and flickered against the candlelight. Her skin was olive and her hair was long and dark. She wore it braided, dropping down her back and reaching just past her waist. It was her eyes though that captured him. They were a deep blue, dark but crystal bright. In those eyes he could see death smoldering just beyond the edges, but for the moment, they held him with…what…interest? He felt them studying him with exactness, laying him bare. He felt that all of his weaknesses had been searched for and discovered in a mere flashing moment. He was in the lion’s den though luckily, the lion seemed to have already fed.

“I’m not sure,” he finally answered, confused at why he had said what he had. It had just come out so naturally. It was his tongue; he knew that. It was the language he spoke. Yet, he could speak this other although it was more forced. He took a breath to repeat the question in this tongue she understood, but she cut him off.

“What is your
Tja
?” she asked dropping to the carpeted floor next to him and placing a tray of food within his easy reach. He scanned the fair quickly, not recognizing any of it, though its smell wafted up to him beckoning.

“My what?”

The woman’s eyes narrowed slightly and her voice took on a stronger bite, like steel being pulled from its sheath. “Do not toy with me,
namani
. What is your
Tja
, your kin group, your clan? Where do you stake your tents?”

He was confused. What was she talking about?
A
Tja
? He suddenly felt he was on a razor’s edge. Her eyes, though beautiful, quickly took on the look of a raptor ready to devour its prey.

“I don’t know,” was all he could say. It was the truth as far as he could remember, but he wasn’t sure if it was the whole truth.

She considered him for a long moment, the raptor’s look slipping away but the hardness still clinging to her gaze. Her manner was relaxed but he felt that at any moment she could pull the swords at her back and cut him to pieces. The swords. He was still amazed at how they seemed to fit her like another piece of clothing; so much so that he had almost forgotten they were there. Almost.

“
Jon’te kabuj v’oban’kufa nok t’obik’reyna’keynadar
.”

Her eyes locked onto his as she said it but it was like rocks being pounded together for all he could understand. He just shrugged. He felt they were reaching a turning point but was quickly growing tired of the game. If she was going to kill him then she needed to get on with it. Otherwise, he had some questions that needed to be answered.

“Listen, if you want to talk then you need to speak words that I can understand. I can also speak a different tongue but that’s not going to answer any of the questions that I know you must have and that I certainly do.”

A shocked look flickered across her face and then was hidden almost as quickly. He waited for her to pull her swords but the air about her had changed. She suddenly looked almost…bored? Just then there was another flash of light as a man entered the tent and strode right in, stopping next to the sitting woman. The man considered him briefly but also gave off the same air of boredom that had suddenly taken the woman. He felt like a mere insect to be looked at briefly and then brushed aside without further thought.