The Sable City
Page 47
*
No one roused Tilda in the morning. She came awake slowly at first until memory of where she was made her sit up swiftly and scramble to her feet.
Claudja and Towsan were sitting at the rear end of the raft with their backs to her, which was strange. Tilda turned around. Three bullywugs were poling along while a few others still slept. Dugan was relaxing on top of one crate with his back to another, comfortable and calm.
No one else was on board. There was a pile of armor and swords on the front raft, along with some boots. There was blood all over the planks.
“What…?” Tilda gasped. Dugan looked over and nodded at her.
“The man on watch fell asleep. The wugs cut their throats and rolled them overboard.”
Tilda stared at him.
“When?”
Dugan shrugged. “Don’t know. The Duchess let me sleep through.”
Claudja had stood and walked over. She had tired bags under her eyes but her features were set and calm.
“You…you saw it?” Tilda asked, and Claudja nodded.
“Six of the wugs crept up on them together. In unison. It was quick.”
Tilda looked around at the wugs. They had been on the raft for more than a tenday and in that time Tilda had come to regard the creatures as harmless, and almost comical. Alien, certainly, but in no way threatening.
“Why would they do that?” Tilda asked. Claudja answered in a low voice.
“They are Magdetchoi, Tilda. Monsters.”
Dugan chuckled, and it was not a pleasant sound.
“Not like us humans, right?”
Tilda looked back at the front raft. It was amazing how much blood had come out of six men and she almost felt sick.
“How exactly do we know they are not going to do the same to us? Why haven’t they already?”
“Because,” said the Duchess of Chengdea. “They do know who I am.”
Claudja went back over to Towsan and Tilda tried not to let her gaze drift back to the stained red planks of the raft ahead. Dugan was still looking at her.
“I know what you are thinking,” he said, and Tilda turned to him. “You are wondering why, if the wugs were going to do the fellows all along, why they waited for a watchman to doze on the second night. Nobody kept a watch the night before.”
“I was not thinking that,” Tilda said, and blinked. “But I am now.”
Dugan gave a smile that was no more pleasant than his dark chuckle, and sent a meaningful glance toward the Duchess before turning back to Tilda.
“And you wonder why I don’t trust nobles.”
Chapter Twenty-Three