The Grieving Tree: The Dragon Below Book II (35 page)

He was still blinking against the glare when something twisted in the dust around the hole. Geth looked down just in time to see the loop of a snare before it whisked closed and a heavy cord cinched tight around his chest.

“Don’t try anything,” rasped a deep voice. “I was hoping Singe might be the first out of the hole, but I don’t think even the toughest shifter could shrug off a crossbow bolt in the eye.”

Geth twisted his head around. Just out of his reach, Chain d’Tharashk crouched down with a loaded crossbow aimed straight at his head.

H
is first instinct was to tuck in his feet, raise his arms, and let himself drop back down the hole. He didn’t get far—the cord around his chest held him fast, the sudden weight jerking the snare even tighter and leaving him kicking desperately to hold himself up. Choking curses rose up from below.
“Rond betch!”
shouted Ashi. “Geth, what are you doing?”

Chain twitched the crossbow, the colors of his dragonmark flashing in the sunlight, as Geth managed to restore his purchase. “Go on,” he said. “Tell them. And by the way, the cord is spiked in place, so pulling yourself up won’t do any good either.”

Geth bared his teeth at the bounty hunter, shock and anger fighting inside him, but he bent his head to shout back down the hole. “It’s Chain! Chain’s here!”

The cursing below ceased abruptly. Geth thought he caught a drift of murmured alarm, then Chain raised his voice. “No tricks!” he called. “I know Dandra can teleport, but if anything surprises me, a crossbow bolt is going to be last thing Geth ever sees.”

“What are you doing here?” Geth growled. “You should be wandering Sharn!” His eyes narrowed. Chain’s leather shirt was stained with salt as if it had been soaked in seawater. Orshok’s insistence that he had seen someone fall from
Lightning on Water
just before the elemental galleon took her full speed came back to him. “Cousin Boar. You got free and swam to Vralkek?”

“A fishing boat picked me up, but
dagga
, I went overboard.
By the time I got to shore, you’d already fallen in with Tzaryan’s ogres, but that gave me time to stock up. After that, all I had to do was stay back and follow until I had a chance to get the bunch of you alone. I told you—I’m the best.” Chain held up his hand. The line of a deep scratch was just fading on it. “You thought I fell on the docks at Zarash’ak and scratched myself on a piece of wire. Not quite. A good bounty hunter never carries drugs or poisons if he doesn’t have at least some resistance to them, he always has a back up stash of coin, and he’s never without at least a makeshift lockpick. You never know when a piece of wire will come in handy.”

“Bastard.”

“Keep my mother out of this.” He raised his voice again. “How are you doing down there, Singe?”

Singe’s voice came drifting up past Geth’s legs. “What do you want, Chain?”

“What Vennet paid me for,” Chain shouted back. “I want Dandra.”

“You can’t have her.”

Chain’s crossbow drifted slightly. Geth heard the snap and creak of the bow at the same moment that pain shot through his unarmored left hand. He howled in agony and jerked his hand up, throwing himself off balance. He struggled to stay upright as he stared at the crossbow bolt that transfixed his palm. Someone below was shouting his name. Chain calmly dropped another bolt into his crossbow and recocked the weapon. When Geth’s roar had died down, the big man raised his voice again. “This is what’s going to happen. I’m going to keep putting holes in Geth until Dandra comes out. When she does—and when she’s secure—I’ll push this sorry shifter back down the hole.”

Geth gritted his teeth and shifted. The feeling of invulnerability that surged through him eased some of his pain. The flow of blood from his hand slowed. He glared at the bounty hunter, then felt a cold fear push up his spine. Chain sat against a heap of rocks that Geth couldn’t recall seeing before. The hole leading down into the ruins wasn’t particularly wide. It wouldn’t take much to block it. “Don’t trust him, Singe!” he said quickly. “It’s a trap.”

“Twelve moons!” the wizard called back. “You don’t say?”

Chain grinned at Geth. “You lot got on top of me in Zarash’ak,”
he said. “You’re good. But when I say I’m the best, I mean it. You’re not getting out of this.”

“Chain!” shouted Dandra. “This isn’t just a simple contract. You don’t know who you’re really working for.”

Chain’s crossbow drifted lazily. Geth stiffened and tried to get his gauntleted arm up, but the bolt through his left hand made it difficult to support himself. He clenched his teeth and put his weight on the injured hand. The gauntlet was a poor shield against a crossbow at close range, but it was all he had.

“And you don’t know who you’re dealing with!” Chain spat.

“I’m dealing with an idiot,” said a strong, hard voice.

Chain and Geth both looked up at the same time. About ten away, Robrand d’Deneith was striding through the brittle grass of the ruins. “You must be Chain d’Tharashk.”

Chain’s eyes narrowed as they fell on the blue star of Tzaryan Keep pinned to the old man’s coat. “This is a legitimate bounty,” he said. “Leave us be.”

“You’re House Tharashk,” answered Robrand. “You should know better than anyone what happens to trespassers in Tzaryan Rrac’s territory.”

“Tzaryan recognizes bounties.”

“Not when they’re his guests.”

Chain stiffened. His crossbow steadied, pointed at Geth’s head once more. “Stay where you are or he dies.”

Robrand paused. Geth looked up at him. For the first time since Robrand had revealed himself on the road from Vralkek, their eyes met—and Robrand’s gaze was cold.

Geth’s arm sank slowly. His gut clenched. Nine years of running and hiding and it came down to this. Stuck in a hole with his life in Robrand’s hands.

He didn’t look away.

Robrand did.

The old man glanced back to Chain and started walking again. “You’re within sight of the keep walls,” he said. “Did you think you could get away with this? I have a company of ogres on their way. Surrender now.”

It was a blatant lie, an outrageous bluff. If Robrand had been sitting at a table playing cross, Geth knew, half the other players would have raised the stakes immediately. He’d done it himself
before he’d learned not to gamble with the old man. Chain didn’t have that advantage. Geth saw his eyes flick briefly toward the looming bulk of Tzaryan Keep, then back to Robrand.

“You’re lying. If Tzaryan’s troops were coming, they’d be on top of us already.”

“And if you kill Geth, you’ve got nothing left to bargain with,” Robrand said smoothly.

“You’re right,” said Chain. He swung the crossbow toward Robrand.

Geth’s old commander lunged forward even as Chain squeezed the trigger. The air seemed to spit light over Robrand’s chest, then the bolt was simply rolling in the dust. Before Chain could reload or even grab for the sword at his side, Robrand had his sword out and at the bounty hunter’s throat. Chain fell back and his leg lashed out in a brutal kick, but Robrand leaped up over it with a master’s ease—and stomped down on Chain’s outstretched hip as he tried to whirl to his feet. The big man writhed in pain and thrust himself back the other way.

Right into Geth’s reach. The shifter roared and swung his right arm in a powerful backhand blow. He caught just a glimpse of Chain’s eyes—open wide and white—before his gauntlet cracked hard against his face. Chain flipped over, rolled, and lay still, eyes closed, face bleeding from the impact of the studs and ridges on the gauntlet. Geth spat at him.

“Respect, Blademark!” snapped Robrand.

Geth stiffened instinctively and shouted back, “Commander! Yes, commander!” before he even thought about it, then jerked and caught himself. He looked up at Robrand in shock. The old man looked startled as well. A grimace of distaste crossed his face.

“Old habits don’t die easily,” he said.

“No,” said Geth. “I guess they don’t.” His stomach roiled so intensely that he thought he might be sick.

To one side of them, the air seemed to fold and then part as Dandra stepped out of it, spear at the ready, the droning chorus of whitefire surrounding her. She blinked at the sight of Chain’s unconcious form and the chorus faded. “We heard Robrand—” she began, then her eyes darted to Geth’s hand, the crossbow bolt still piercing it. “Geth!”

The distaste on Robrand’s face vanished and suddenly he
was once more the personable, pleasant old soldier he had been on the journey from Vralkek. “Get Geth out of the hole, Dandra,” he ordered. “Singe! Send Orshok up first to tend Geth’s wounds.”

The next few minutes were a flurry of activity. Robrand cut the cord of Chain’s snare, freeing Geth. Dandra took his free hand and hauled him free of the hole. A moment later, Orshok emerged, dusty and pale. As the others followed, the druid drew Geth away from the hole and examined his wounded hand, then took out a knife and carefully trimmed one end off the bolt so he could slide it free from the wound. Renewed pain burned through Geth’s hand, but he clenched his teeth until Orshok spoke a healing prayer. Magic like a cool breeze closed the wound.

Geth let out a sigh and flexed his hand. “Twice tak,” he said.

“There’s probably going to be a scar,” Orshok apologized. “The wound was almost too much for my magic. Batul or Krepis could have done more.”

“I can live with another scar,” said Geth. He jerked his head at Chain. The big man was groaning as Singe and Natrac tied his arms with his own cord. Blood and dirt had mixed to make a dark, patchy mess on the bounty hunter’s face. “Especially if I’ve given him more than he gave me.”

Singe finished tying Chain and stood up to face Robrand. “It’s lucky you came along, old man, but somehow I don’t think it’s an accident you were out here. And I don’t think Tzaryan knows you’re here. If this was his business, you really would have ogres with you.”

“I was looking for you, Etan,” Robrand said bluntly. “It’s Ekhaas. Tzaryan’s getting impatient. I think he thought you would talk to her before you started exploring the ruins.”

“There wasn’t time.”

“There’s going to be even less time. Tzaryan’s given orders to begin her interrogation.” He contemplated the hole in the ground. “Is this Ekhaas’s work, too? Tzaryan’s not going to be pleased with that.”

Singe let out a hiss. “He said he’d let me talk to Ekhaas before he tortured her—and you said he honored his word.”

“He has limits.” Robrand looked back toward the keep. “The ogres are waiting for my return—I was able to hold them back
that long.”

“Then your timing’s good. We were going to talk to her when we got back anyway.” He pressed his lips together, then added, “We found what we needed in the ruins, Robrand. We’ll be leaving tomorrow. We have to get back to the Shadow Marches.”

Robrand nodded. “You can take the horses you rode here on. I’ll arrange for supplies—”

A loud groan from Chain interrupted them. The big man’s eyes opened and fixed on his bound hands. His muscles tensed as he strained at the cord. Nothing happened. He looked up to stare at them all angrily. His gaze settled you on Robrand and his lips twisted. “How—? You were close! I couldn’t have missed.”

Singe picked up a pebble and flicked it at Robrand. There was a tiny flash of light and the pebble dropped to the ground without touching the old man. Chain scowled. “Deneith!” he spat in digust.

“Don’t feel bad,” Robrand told him. “I’ve been outwitting marksmen longer than you’ve been alive. If it means anything, you’ve got a steady hand.”

Ashi gave the old man a puzzled look. “You used your dragonmark to protect yourself?”

Robrand nodded.

The hunter tilted her head. “Why not just use it to protect Geth?”

“He was safe enough.” Robrand waved his hand dismissively. “It’s exactly what I told Chain—if he killed Geth, he had nothing left to bargain with. But by using my mark on myself, I was able to surprise him and free all of you. Sometimes shielding yourself is the best way to shield someone else.” He gestured for Ashi and Natrac to get Chain on his feet. “Bring him along. Tzaryan’s going to want to have a word with him. I don’t think he’ll be bothering you again.”

Dandra winced and Geth knew she was remembering Bava’s story of the Tharashk prospectors who had run afoul of the lord of Tzaryan Keep. “Is that necessary? Maybe there’s something less drastic.”

Robrand shook his head. “Tzaryan takes his authority very seriously, Dandra. No one crosses him and gets away with it.”

Chain went pale, struggling and cursing as Ashi and Natrac
hauled him to his feet. The hunter and the half-orc didn’t look any happier at escorting him to an unpleasant fate. Geth saw Dandra glance at Singe with a beseeching look in her eyes, but Singe just gave her a slight shake of his head. Geth understood the wizard’s dilemma: there wasn’t much use arguing with Robrand once the old man had decided on something.

He was half-surprised himself that Robrand had bothered to rescue him from Chain at all.