Servant of a Dark God - By John Brown Page 0,82

the second upstairs and the third in the back room and still others out in the yard. The bailiff himself paced about the room and then noticed the cellar door.

“Girl,” he said. “Open this up.” Then he drew his sword and stepped back.

“You do not need to worry, Zu,” she said, indicating his sword. “I will gladly open the door, but nothing is down there. Only a few cabbages and potatoes. I saw them myself this morning.”

“Oh, is that the trysting spot for Koramite youth?” The bailiff shook his head. “I thought Talen was being prepared for a Mokaddian marriage. I expected more of Hogan.”

Sugar looked down. They would consider it filthy for him to sport with a Koramite. Was that why he’d been so stiff? She walked over to the door. She hoped Legs had heard the men and had hidden in the small cubby they’d made last night.

“Get a light,” he said.

“Yes, Zu,” she said, and then moved to the other side of the room to fetch a lamp.

The man searching this end of the main room was poking his sword deep into barrels of beans and barley. What he expected to find there she could not guess.

Sugar found one of Zu Hogan’s lamps and the oil jar. She poured a bit into the lamp. Then she took it to the fire, retrieved an ember with some small tongs, held it close and began to blow.

“I don’t understand why a girl from Koramtown would risk hunters, alone it seems, to come all the way up here.”

Sugar blew once more and the wick caught fire. “I came early yesterday,” she said. “News of the Sleth had not yet arrived.” Then she pulled up the cellar door.

He pointed at the stair with his sword, indicating she should go first.

Sugar nodded and began to descend the stairs a few steps. As she did her light illuminated the room below and the fact that while Legs had crawled into the cubby, he had not hidden his foot. It, along with the end of his trousers, was plain to see.

The bailiff positioned himself above to get a clearer view of the cellar.

Sugar switched the lamp to her other hand, moving it so that it cast a shadow over Legs.

“Lift it higher,” said the bailiff, “I can’t see.”

“Yes, Zu.” Her mind raced. What could she do? What lie could she tell him?

None came to her mind.

She shifted the lamp.

“Ho,” boomed Zu Hogan from the doorway. “What is this?”

The bailiff turned, and Sugar saw her chance. She quickly descended the remaining steps and hurried to stand in front of Leg’s foot. She held her lamp out as if she were trying to give the room its best possible illumination.

“What kind of a lunatic challenges Fir-Noy armsmen?” asked the bailiff.

Zu Hogan put his hands on his hips. “The same kind that challenges Bone-Faced rot.”

“That’s all good and fine,” said the bailiff. “But you’ve put me in a position. Do you know how lucky you are? Any other Koramite and you’d lose your head. I would have to take it myself.”

“We have far greater things than Fir-Noy honor to worry about,” said Zu Hogan. “The woman held in Whitecliff, she’s gone.”

“Gone?”

“Stolen out of the tower by a creature that cast Droz and his whole guard about like puppets.”

The bailiff stood stunned. “Goh,” he finally said. “Her creation, then, come to free her? Or that of her hatchlings?”

“We don’t know where it came from or whence it bore her. The dogs can’t track it.”

Sugar sat down. There was no doubt about Mother now. She wondered what kind of creature it was that had rescued her. But she couldn’t imagine it. She couldn’t picture her mother as Sleth any more than she could picture her as a dog.

What would Zu Hogan do? He wouldn’t turn her in, would he? Not after hiding and lying for them.

“She’s probably all safely tucked away now in some wicked bolt hole.” The bailiff cursed. There was a brief pause in their conversation then the bailiff said, “This does not bode well for your people.”

“It does not bode well for any of us,” said Zu Hogan. “Because when you do find them, even if you take one hundred men, it won’t be enough. The creature was shot through with arrows and stabbed with spears. Captain Argoth delivered a blow that would have beheaded a horse. Nothing. The ballista men shot a dart and smote the beast squarely in the chest, and it still managed

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