by Jon F. Merz
“We’ll see soon enough,” said Mithrus. He glanced back toward the passageway and nodded. “He’s coming.”
Ran looked over and saw torches coming toward them. The blue fire cast weird shadows along the passage wall, twisting shadows and bending them into strange shapes. Then the guard that Mithrus had dispatched reappeared. The guard stopped at the entrance to the passageway and clapped his hands twice.
“His Majesty, King Zal.”
What Ran saw next surprised even him.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Zal was borne into the cavern on a sedan chair covered in gold and sapphires. The bright blue flames of the torches reflected in the cut jewels and cast a dizzying array of sparkles across the cavern, nearly making Ran wince at the sight of it. Zal himself looked to be a diminutive thickset older man with a flaccid body and a bloated demeanor framed by an unkempt gray beard that hung down to his chest. His eyes, however, looked black as obsidian, and he cast a discerning eye about the cavern as he was carried in.
Four slaves carried him toward Iqban and Mithrus and then gently lowered the platform until it touched the ground. The toll of the slaves’ exertion was evident by the sweat that poured from their bodies.
“Iqban,” said Zal by way of welcome.
Iqban bowed low. “Your Majesty.”
“And what sorts of treasures have you brought me this time?”
Iqban smiled. “Your Grace, I have attacked a wealthy caravan traveling west laden with a variety of textiles, jewels, and expensive silks. I hope that you find it worthy of your possession.”
“I need slaves, Iqban,” said Zal. “Everything else is secondary.”
Mithrus coughed, and Zal frowned. “Granted, I also need things I can use to pay my army. I’ll have a look at the goods. But first, tell me that you’ve managed to secure more slaves.”
“I have but four this time, Your Grace.” Iqban took a breath. “While that number is far below what I brought you the last time, I think two of them at least may more than make up for the paltry numbers.”
“Why so?” Zal glanced about the cavern. “Are they giants who can move tons of rock without any effort?”
“One nearly so, but the other is no slouch himself. They stand on the far platform awaiting your appraisal.”
Zal stood on the platform and eyeballed Ran and Kuva. Kuva glared at him. Ran wanted to nudge him and tell the big man to rein his emotions in a bit. But Kuva seemed beyond caring.
“What is your name?” asked Zal.
“I am Kuva. From the house of Suba.”
Zal waved his hand. “I do not care where you come from or which house claims you as their own. That no longer matters. If I decide to buy you, you will belong to me. To be used as I see fit. Your past is just that: the past. You can use those memories to comfort yourself at night, knowing that you will never again taste freedom.”
Kuva glanced at Ran. “We surrendered for this?”
Zal eyed Ran. “You. What are you called?”
“Ran.”
“And since the big man next to you felt a need to proclaim himself, where are you from?”
“Nehon.”
Zal’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a long way from home, aren’t you? What brings you to northern Igul?”
“I was hired to provide security for the caravan Iqban attacked.”
Zal laughed. “It doesn’t appear you did very much good, does it?”
“We killed a fair number of Iqban’s men,” said Ran. “Considering we numbered only four and they had ten times that number, I’d say we held our own as admirably as anyone could be expected to in similar circumstances.”
Zal said nothing for a moment and then smiled. He turned to Iqban. “I like that one. He is clever with words and no doubt has a shrewd mind to match. I can use him.”
Iqban pointed at Kuva. “And what of him?”
Zal sighed. “Useless in terms of smarts, but those muscles can be put to good use. I’ll have him smashing stones along with the other slaves.”
Iqban nodded. “I have two more. They’re merchants, however, and no doubt unused to physical labor.”
“Are those them?” Zal pointed at the opposite platform. “They look like the gods have used them as a chamber pot.”
“The journey here was hard on them,” said Iqban. “But I have little doubt you could find a use for them.”
“Of course you think that,” snapped Zal. “You’re trying to make money. You’d sell me a dead man and claim he could still tunnel with the other slaves if you thought you could get another gold piece from me.”
Iqban bowed low. “You honor me with such praise, Your Grace.”
Zal laughed. “Only a rat like you would take that as a compliment.” He sighed. “Very well, I’ll take all four. I’m sure I can find something interesting to do with those fat ones. The other two can be put to work right away. How much will you take for the four?”
Iqban pointed at Kuva again. “He is worth a great deal for his sheer size alone. Two hundred for him.”
“Two hundred?” Zal shook his head. “I’ll give you one hundred fifty. Not one piece more.”
“Two hundred and I’ll throw in the two merchants.”
Zal grumbled. “It will probably cost me that to keep those two fed.” But he nodded. “Fair enough, two hundred for the three.” He eyed Ran. “And what of the foreigner from Nehon? How much will you fleece from me for him?”
“One hundred fifty.”
“Iqban,” said Zal, “I’m starting to think you believe I have unlimited wealth. This little venture of mine is costing me a fortune as it is.”
“A venture fueled by human blood,” said Iqban. “You need what I sell and with all due respect, what I sell costs me a great deal of money in terms of paying the men who serve me and the variety of costs associated with my own operation.”
Zal waved his hand. “Yes, yes, yes, I know all about your various costs. You run the same tired speech past me each time you come here. No doubt I do the same to you. So let’s just get the deal done. I’ll pay you an even four hundred gold pieces for everything you’ve brought here today. All the contents of the caravan, sight unseen. You’ll be hard-pressed to find a better deal anywhere. And if you refuse the deal, I’ll just have my men kill you.”
If Iqban was troubled by the threat, he didn’t show it. Instead, he smiled. “I would rather do business than war with my best customer. Four hundred is acceptable.”
“Excellent,” said Zal. He turned to Mithrus. “I want the wagons brought into the inner chambers, where I can figure out how to disperse their contents. Have your men see to that, please.”
Mithrus bowed once. “My lord.” He nodded at several guards, who immediately left their stations and took control of getting the wagons funneled down another passageway leading off of the cavern they were in.
Ran watched the wagons trundle away and wondered what would happen next. Zal seemed well-pleased with how negotiations had gone. The smile he wore was bright enough to shine across the room.
Iqban spoke first. “Your Grace, I wonder if it might be possible for my men and I to seek refuge here for a few days.”
Zal swung his gaze over to him. “Why would you need to do that?”
“The weather on the way here grew steadily worse. Mithrus tells me that a blizzard is raging outside, and trying to make our way through that type of tempest would no doubt be too dangerous for us to consider. I would lose time and manpower to the storm. There is also the risk of avalanches throughout the route. It would be better for us to wait out the storm.”
“Inside my kingdom?” Zal thought for a moment and then nodded. “Fair enough. You and your men are welcome to wait out the storm until it blows over. But as soon as it is clear, I need you to go out and find me more slaves. I need more manpower to make my plans come to fruition.”
“I understand,” said Iqban. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
Zal waved his hand. “Think nothing of
it. It will also give me time to count the payment to you, anyway. It works well for us both.”
“We are content to set up a makeshift camp here in this place,” said Iqban.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Zal. “I have plenty of room here. You will dine with me tonight. I will send several stewards to see to you and your men. Your men can dine with my soldiers. I take it they won’t mind sharing a few meals with their brothers-in-arms?”
“I’m sure they’ll be more than delighted. As I will be to sit and feast with you later.”
Zal nodded. “Excellent. I have to see to a few things now, but will send for you later at your guest quarters.”
“Thank you.” Iqban pointed at Ran and Kuva. “And what of your new slaves, my lord? Shall I see to it that they are prepared for their tasks ahead?”
Zal shook his head. “I will have someone else see to that. Leave them where they are for the time being. My men won’t let them get away.” He sat down on the sedan chair again and clapped his hands. The four slaves who had carried him in resumed their stations and heaved the chair up.
Ran saw the grimaces of pain cross their faces. How much did Zal weigh, he wondered. Given that the slaves could hardly support him, it must have meant that Zal weighed more than it appeared. Either that or the sedan chair was heavy. Possibly, too, the slaves were undernourished and had little strength to carry the short king. Regardless, they bore the king out of the cavern, leaving Ran and Kuva alone with the two merchant slaves, Iqban, and his men.
“Well,” said Iqban. “That went swimmingly.” He clapped his hands and then walked over to Ran and Kuva. “I knew he would pay handsomely for you two. As long as you don’t disappoint, then I should be in an even better position the next time I come through here with more slaves.”
Ran decided to push his luck a bit. “What exactly is he doing here? Why does he need so many slaves?”
Iqban pursed his lips as if trying to decide whether he should respond or not. Then he merely grinned. “The most audacious plans in the world are often carried out using the best labor force of all: slaves.”
“Slavery breeds resentment, though,” said Ran. “How can you be sure that the slaves wouldn’t make mistakes or deliberately sabotage a project in order to get revenge upon the person that owns them?”
“The threat of a painful death is usually enough to dissuade slaves from trying such things.” His eyes narrowed. “And don’t you get to thinking about trying something yourself. I’ll come back here and personally stomp on your head until you die a terrible death if you do that. Understand?”
Ran only looked at him. There was no way Iqban could best him in combat. But Ran didn’t say anything to upset the slaver. Instead, he only nodded.
Iqban appeared satisfied and then turned to Kuva. “As for you, you’d better mind your manners. Zal is notorious for his temper. You didn’t see it here today, fortunately, but if you upset him, he will rain hellfire down upon you. You’ll wish you hadn’t done anything foolish, but it will be too late. For your sake, I hope you listen to me and do exactly what he says.”
Kuva shrugged. “I haven’t heard what he wants me to do yet. I can’t really answer that question truthfully until I know what he wants.”
“You’ll be digging,” said Iqban. “You and Ran both.”
“Digging for what?” asked Ran.
Iqban’s eyes lit up. “I’m not so sure I should tell you. After all, it’s a big secret.”
“We’re not going anywhere,” said Ran. Then he shrugged. “Of course, we’ll find out soon enough, anyway, so if you don’t feel like telling us . . .”
“Zal is digging down and into the mountain because he’s convinced there’s a civilization there that he wants to conquer.” Iqban finished with a grin that told Ran he didn’t much believe the story.
“You don’t think there is?”
Iqban shrugged. “This is what I know: Zal needs more slaves. I bring him those slaves and I make money. That’s about as far as I care to go in buying into his various plots. Zal burns through slaves because the conditions are horrible down in the mines, the work is grueling, and he feeds his slaves very little. Many of them die.”
Ran frowned. If Cassandra was here, he would need to act sooner rather than later in order to free her. “Where are the mines?”
Iqban pointed at the floor. “The main mine shaft is below us on the bottom level. They’ve been excavating for nearly a year.”
“That seems a short time. Zal only recently decided to do this?” Ran wasn’t sure how much information he could get out of Iqban, but as long as the slaver felt like talking, Ran would keep asking questions.
“According to what his grace tells me,”—Iqban’s tone betrayed his sarcasm,—“until recently, he was the king of the very same civilization he claims lies beneath us. He was apparently deposed, and a new ruler took over. Zal has been planning his triumphant return for some time, but it wasn’t until after he secured the services of Mithrus and his men that he was able to focus on digging into their world.”
“That would account for his appearance,” said Ran. “Do all of the people look that way where he comes from?”
Iqban shrugged. “No idea. None of my business, really. Zal is hideous to look upon, but his gold is among the purest I have ever seen. And he has promised Mithrus and his men untold wealth if they help him take back his former kingdom.”
“He’s not paying them?” Kuva grumbled. “What mercenary would agree to fight for no pay?”
“They agreed to the promise of wealth,” said Iqban. “Would you rather have a small salary now or possibly make tenfold if things work out?”
“Tenfold,” said Kuva. “But if it didn’t work out that way, I would stick my sword through the bastard who lied to me.”
Iqban smiled. “And you can bet that Mithrus will do exactly that if Zal’s claims aren’t what he makes them out to be. Mithrus might find himself at the end of a spear if he can’t deliver the money to his men.”
“A risky position,” said Ran.
“With great risk comes great reward,” said Iqban. “Or spectacular death. In any case, my role is simple: find him more slaves. As long as Zal keeps paying me, that’s all I care about. I don’t work for gilded promises and cheap dreams. Gold buys my services, and gold alone. Zal understands this, and we have a relationship that works. You two will soon find out that Zal cares about very little except regaining his throne.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Ran and Kuva spent an uneventful night with Iqban and his men in the main cavern. Iqban threw them some scraps of meat and a pint of ale each.
“You’ll need your strength for what lies ahead,” he said with a laugh.
Kuva wanted to throw the food back at the slaver, but Ran stayed his hand. “He’s right. Eat the food and drink the ale. We don’t know if Zal even feeds his slaves. And if we want to escape from this hellhole, we’re going to need some energy.”
Kuva grumbled, but once he started eating, the food and drink vanished down his gullet soon enough. Ran ate his fill, aware of the old maxim his teachers had impressed upon him: if food was available, eat it. You never knew when you’d be able to eat again.
After eating, Kuva yawned and glanced at Ran. “You want first watch?”
Ran shook his head. “We’ll both sleep. We need it.”
“No guard duty?”
“What’s the point? We’re surrounded by Iqban’s men, and we don’t even know the layout of the tunnels here. And I don’t think we’re in any danger, per se. At least, not yet. We may as well take the opportunity to rest as much as we can. Sleep might be a precious commodity in the days ahead. Especially if we try to escape.”
“Good point,” said Kuva. He stretched back and lay on the ground. In seconds he was fast asleep.
Ran stayed awake a little bit longer, eyeing the surroundings. He could have easily picked the lock on the shackles and gone exploring, but he knew they’d get a chance to loo
k at the caverns and tunnels soon enough. If he broke out now and got caught, he’d lose all surprise and they’d take more aggressive steps to contain him. And they might just have shackles that he couldn’t escape from.
No, he decided, better to take the opportunity to rest and see what the new day would bring. He fell asleep hoping that the next morning would grant him a chance to see if Cassandra was here or not.
Ran awoke despite the lack of sunshine. His inner clock had nudged him, and he opened one eye. Iqban’s men were already moving around, getting breakfast ready. Ran prodded Kuva, and the big man grumbled once before rolling over on a splinter that caused him to swear loudly.
He sat up. “I was dreaming we were drinking gallons of mead served by buxom barmaids.” He looked around and frowned. “A far cry from the likes of this place, I’ll tell you that.”
Ran grinned. “When we get out of here, I’ll buy the first round.”
Kuva sighed. “Whatever they’re cooking, it smells delicious. Think they’ll offer us any?”
“I doubt it.” Ran sensed commotion down the tunnel that led into the cavern. “I don’t think we’re going to be here long enough.”
Kuva followed his gaze. Bright blue torch flames flickered along the tunnel walls and then Mithrus emerged, followed by a squad of guards. He headed directly for the platform where Ran and Kuva sat.
“Had a good night’s rest?”
Ran shrugged. “As well as you can have lying on a wooden platform.”
“It’ll be sight better than your new accommodations, I’ll tell you that.” Mithrus nodded at one of the guards. “Unlock the shackles.”
Iqban wandered over as the guard was fussing with Ran’s cuffs. “Any word on the weather?”
Mithrus frowned. “Word from the gate outpost is that the blizzard still rages. Sorry, friend, but it looks like you’ll be staying around here for a few days yet.”
“This delay is costing me time and money,” muttered Iqban. “If it doesn’t subside soon, I might have to take my chances with the forces of nature. I’d rather battle my way through drifts than stay here and contend with boredom.”