The Prodigal Troll Part 28

"Woman?"

"Woman, when there's only one."

"That's right! There's only one. Only Portia."

Bran paused again. The tap-tap-tap of dripping water sounded somewhere in their cell. "My lady Portia is betrothed to Acrysy, the man who captured us. Things have not been amicable between them, so I don't think you'll find her here."

"Oh." The darkness seemed thicker to Maggot. "Then I will just have to go where he is not."

Maggot slept, woke, slept, and woke again, but the intervals of time were meaningless-they could have been short naps or long periods of sleep, but either way he did not feel rested. Though he satisfied his thirst with the dripping water, hunger consumed him. The rope continued to fray under his patient sawing.

Voices and footsteps echoed unexpectedly down the stairwell. Bran, who was leaning against the door, jumped aside just as thick oak slammed open. Light flooded the room. Maggot squinted, blinking like a bat tossed into daylight.

"Greetings, greetings, greetings." The voice was as smooth as polished stone and just as hard. "So you're still here, are you? I extend my ample grat.i.tude that you could await the occasion of my visit."

"Sebius, m'lady," Bran said, his voice light with hope.

As Maggot's eyes adjusted to the glare, Sebius-the womanly one that Maggot had called Foghair-stepped into the cell.

Acrysy followed behind her, sneering.

One guard with a short spear in his hand went to stand in the corner by the door, another filled the doorway, and at least one more waited out in the hall. Even if his hands were free, Maggot doubted his chance of fighting free.

Sebius had a scent like urine in a bed of flowers, Maggot thought. He-was Sebius a he or a she, man or woman? Not a woman. Sebius, Maggot decided, was a he. Sebius walked over and lifted Bran's damaged hands. He patted the knuckles where fingers once had been. "Is this all those murderous untrustworthy heathens cut off?"

"Isn't it enough?"

The eunuch sighed, his voice rising a pitch. "Well, a woman always hopes for a daughter. I promised you once that if you took up the dress, I would make you my heir. You earned my fortune for me."

"M'lady is generous with her praises." Bran pulled his hands free. "May she be as generous with her mercies."

Sebius smiled and laid his palm affectionately against Bran's face. "Oh, Bran, Bran, Bran, why did you have to come back? You make things very difficult for me, give me very difficult choices."

"How?" He pulled his face away from Sebius's hand.

"Because Lady Culufre's son identified a dangerous path into the city and guarded it in fierce weather, apprehending a known traitor in the company of a recognized enemy."

Acrysy smirked, as if he had accomplished all this single-handed. Maggot wanted to knock him down.

Bran bristled. "Known traitor? I've served you, m'lady, since I was a boy. When did I become a traitor?"

"To be honest, only after I thought you were dead. It seemed most appropriate to use you then, as I have in life. Now I find it hard to reverse statements I have publicly made."

"That's not true," Acrysy shouted. "He is a traitor. He turned my betrothed against me."

"Yes," Sebius admitted, slowly raising an open palm that silenced the youth. "There is that. Though admittedly, Lady Eleuate's wild daughter has never been fully reconciled to the thought of taking you as her consort-"

"That's not true!"

Sebius drew a deep breath. "As I recall, her exact words were 'You may have my hand in marriage, but no more of me than that; you may roam all of my mother's estates, but you will never have my bed."' He looked to Bran. "Do I have that correctly, my protege? Speak truly to me, as you have always done."

"She added disparaging remarks about his youth and poor character," Bran said.

"Ah, yes." Sebius grinned sadly.

"Liars," Acrysy hissed. "She will marry me, and I will be the next Baron here. She wouldn't deny me if that stupid hunt hadn't ruined everything. You ruined it on purpose!"

Everyone stood there silently after this outburst, until finally Sebius spoke to Bran. "But the fact remains that she only openly defied the arrangements after the lion hunt. Which was your idea, Bran."

"It was your goal to bring the two of them together," Bran replied quietly. "Without mothers around, so that they might get to know one another. I merely suggested the means. I have always served your goals, m'lady."

"But my goal is a smooth succession of power and the unification of this province to the glory of the Empress."

Bran straightened. "I accepted blame for the bad end of that venture and sacrificed my captaincy on the altar of Lord Eleuate's wounded pride. But we had other purposes there as well, to rid the valley of the lion who endangered our flocks, and to scout out the numbers of the peasants and begin their removal. Surely we accomplished both those things, to your glory, m'lady, and the advancement of the realm."

Sebius made a small humming sound. "Since you received the blame for something you did not do, you now wish to steal credit for the work of others?"

With everyone's attention focused on this conversation, Maggot made a sudden lunge toward Acrysy, who jumped back. He was too far away to reach the boy, and stopped short as the guard in the corner and the one at the door leapt toward him with raised spears.

Neither Sebius nor Bran had moved.

"I don't know what you mean," Bran said.

"You didn't drive away the peasants, nor did you kill the lionyour friend accomplished that feat." Sebius waved a hand casually in Maggot's direction. "He is your friend, isn't he?"

Bran's mouth turned into a thin line. "He saved my life."

"As you spared his, in battle?"

Maggot lifted his foot, and the guard jabbed the spear at him again, saying, "None of that, now, or you'll hurt for it."

"Is that what they say?" Bran asked.

"I saw it," Romy said from the doorway. "I had to speak the truth, Captain Bran. I saw you spare his life."

"The truth is that the two of you worked together during the hunt," Acrysy interjected. "You gave this peasant access to the campyou posted the guards after all, and how else could he get past the walls without your help?-so that he could a.s.sault Lady Portia, and commit his vile affront upon her."

"I did no such thing," Bran said.

Sebius reached out to caress the side of Bran's face. "But it was so convenient to blame you for everything when we thought you dead. You sabotaged the hunting party and ruined the wedding. You betrayed our war plans to the peasants, giving them their brief victory and escape."

Bran's chin hit his chest.

"If I could have blamed the floods on you," Sebius's voice said softly, "my darling boy, I would have done that also."

"The spring floods or the fall flood coming?" Bran asked, trying to pull his head away and b.u.mping into the wall.

Sebius laughed. "Both. It will be a very hard winter, and the people will need someone to blame, some distraction."

"Blame them both on me, then," Bran said. "Call it the consequence of some sacrilege I performed to the demon G.o.ds of the peasants. I'll take credit for it all. You will have your scapegoat and your spectacle to appease the hungry crowds."

"You'd do that?"

"If you set free my friend, yes."

Maggot shook his head. He would not leave without Bran. But Bran didn't notice.

"You see, Acrysy!" Sebius stepped back and raised his hand up in the air, smiling, his teeth s.h.i.+ning. "You see what kind of loyalty he has? He serves me still, gives me exactly what I wish and seeks to benefit his friend as well. It takes years to reap a crop like that; a length of time measured out in strings of pearls would not be worth as much."

Acrysy crossed his arms.

Sebius laughed at him, and embraced Bran, who stood there limply. "The crops cannot be harvested with the ground like this, and everyone is gathered in the city already for fear of the uprising. Conveniently, I have convinced my beloved brother to move up the Dance of Masks and Costumes for the Feast of Bwnte, and this has diverted their attention from the double disaster. When I see him, I shall essay to discover his reaction to the possibility that you are alive and well."

"And my friend? He is not one of the peasants. He saved my life when they would have burned me."

Sebius smiled again. "Your friend may not be a peasant, but he dresses like one and fought with them. Too many saw him in battle and heard his weirdling cry. It put fear in their hearts. No, your friend will fight his last battle against the splitting pole. His cry shall have a different keen on it then, and the soldiers will forget their fears as they cheer his death."

"But Portia, Lady Eleuate-"

"Exactly. And then Portia. All the more reason to kill him quickly. I shall apologize deeply for the error, after."

Maggot flexed on the b.a.l.l.s of his feet, tugging his wrists against his bonds. He would die fighting before he submitted to the fate suffered by Damaqua, his advisor, or the wizard.

"Must we wait?" Acrysy asked, eyeing Maggot with a mixture of fear and contempt. "If we split him at noon, he might still be squirming when the dance begins tonight."

"Patience, my young friend." Sebius stepped toward the door, putting his hand on Acrysy's shoulder to send him ahead. "We would not want to ruin anyone's appet.i.te for the feast. Let them eat while they can; save the next spectacle to distract them from their hunger after the bad harvest." He turned his head. "And after that much time, it will be easier to remind everyone that it's the Wyndans we blame and not some poor, maligned, barefoot shepherd boy become a knight."

"Wait," Bran cried, stepping toward the eunuch.

The soldier in the corner thrust the spear at him.

Sebius stopped on the threshold of the door. "What is it, shepherd boy? Have you lost your sheep?"

"Send something for us to eat and drink."

"Drink? Drink, we can give you." He stared out into the hall and up the dark stairs. "All the water you want, before we drown in it. Will that suffice? Romy?"

"Yes, m'lady?" Romy answered beyond the door.

"When you think of it, stick a bucket outside in the rain. A clean bucket, mind, and nothing that's been used for a bedpan. When it's full, bring it down here for the comfort of our guests."

"Yes, m'lady."

"Sebius," Bran said, very softly. "Food."

Sebius released a long, exaggerated sigh. "Romy?"

"Yes, m'lady?"

"This rain so thoroughly soaks the ground that it drives the rats up out of their holes and they frighten the good ladies of the city. When it's convenient for you, take some men into the city and catch some rats. Some big, fat ones, mind. Be careful not to make them angry, or anything like that; then set them loose in the cell here. Alive, mind."

"Yes, m'lord."

Acrysy cackled.

"There you go, Bran," the eunuch said. "If you continue to be so tiresome, I may reconsider my decision and choose not to spare you after all." He wiped a drop of sweat off his forehead with the middle finger of his left hand. "I'm so exhausted by this interview that I may forget to lay the groundwork tonight, and simply relax, and enjoy myself instead. Will you thank me three times for every rat you catch and eat?"

Bran spit on the floor-Maggot wondered how he could with his mouth so dry-once, twice, thrice. "I thank you three times."

"Insults, insults." He took the torch from the holder just outside the open door. "Come, Acrysy."

Maggot jumped the guard in the corner, swinging his bound hands up to knock aside the spear. As his hands slid along the shaft, the guard turned it sideways and drove the b.u.t.t against Maggot's temple, knocking him to the ground. Maggot heard his laughter, followed by the hard metal clunk of the door bolt.

aggot inhaled. The air was heavy with the residue of smoke and oil, the eunuch's perfume, and the meaty stink of the soldiers. Bran was kneeling on the floor beside him.

"Are you hurt?" he asked.

"No," Maggot said. He had managed to sc.r.a.pe the ropes briefly on the blade of the spear, but not enough to slice clean through. "And you?"

"Nothing important, only my pride. When you serve someone loyally, you expect that loyalty returned."

Maggot rolled back to his feet and crawled over to the nub of broken stone to resume his attack on the ropes.

"I misjudged her," said Bran. "Judging men has always been my virtue, one of the reasons I was made knight, then captain. But I misjudged the lot of them. I didn't expect Romy to follow Acrysy's orders over his loyalty to me."

Virtue, Virtue, loyalty-more unfamiliar words. "Why do they do that, Bran?"

"Do what?"

"Why do your people do what other people tell them? Giants"He used the word from Sinnglas's language-"do each as they see fit, or vote for the common good. Even Sinnglas's people reach agreement or follow different paths."

Bran paced, kicking the door. "The strong lead and the weak must follow; that is the way of the world. If they do not go willingly, they must be driven."

"What willingly is there if they are to be beaten or killed? It is not good, Bran. I do not like the ways of your people. I do not think I want to stay among you." The rope abraded quickly against the stone, his wrists pulling apart.

"You have not seen us at our best. Baron Culufre is a good, just man. He will set things right."

"You said the same thing of the eunuch." The first strand of rope severed, and the rest fell loose. Tingling pain flooded into Maggot's fingers. "Here, let me untie your hands."

"Give us a chance-What?"

Maggot rose and went to Bran, and began unknotting his bonds. "Can you hold your hands a little higher?"

"But how did you get free?" Bran asked, lifting his hands.

"I cut the ropes on the stone, the sharp edges."

"And said nothing?"