Wolf's-head, Rogues of Bindar Book I (37 page)

The Dakkaw
tested the brass handle and a quick jerk had the door parting with
a groan to let them through. Warm vapours fled through, wafting
smoke, odours of mutton and roast hare. Already at this hour, the
household’s woodstoves were at work.

“The lord
sleeps upstairs,” whispered the Dakkaw. “Quietly now. His daughters
rest on the main floor. We are lucky.”

“Daughters?”
questioned Valere. “I thought you said there was only one.” He
frowned in distrust. “Perhaps we should tarry here a bit for a
taste of some fringe benefits? What do you say to that, Baus?”

“Not much,”
Baus called primly. “What do you think we are—a bunch of
opportunists?”

“That and
more.”

The Dakkaw
gave an impertinent growl. “Shut up you two! Do you not think there
are others here who will not hear us? Slack fools! I doubt if the
Vulde posts guards in the scullery, but I know that he harbours
servitors, so be alert!”

“Careful with
your impertinence. Nevertheless, a wise counsel, Dakkaw,” agreed
Baus grudgingly , “but what of these other daughters you talk
about?”

“There would
be only one,” the Dakkaw grumbled, “she who would be Griselda.”

“The next
question is, who is Griselda?” inquired Valere. “Is she as
beautiful as her sister?”

The Dakkaw’s
pause gave way to a cryptic smile. “You shall have to see for
yourself, redbeard. Now, let us make haste.”

Baus thought
the reply ambiguous, but for the time he let it go.

They crept
into the vestibule and the Dakkaw rotated his bull neck about with
flair and proceeded with an air of authority toward the corridor.
He flexed his wrists and swept thick, glabrous hands around his
throat, glad to be free of his oppressive bonds. Of his intent,
Baus could not be sure.

Valere held
the torch aloft, beckoning with caution. Dutifully Baus trailed
behind and they gained a small stairway—baywolf oak; noiselessly
they slunk into a wide hall in the wake of the giant’s tread.
Passing a small chamber of hanging pots, they entered into a
spacious chamber furnished with fur-padded benches and upholstered
chairs. The last embers of the glowing hearth burned with an
otherwise feeble glow and in pin-silent gloom. The walls were
decorated with deep mahogany; wall hangings depicted naval scenes
and battles of the legendary Boat Lords of Old Krintz. A tall set
of antique stairs rose to their left in the shadows while a
carpeted hallway ran to their right. Down the hallway the ogre
marched with an altogether surprising exuberance. It seemed he knew
the place well and as he strode, his mass rippled with strength and
authority, causing Baus anxiety. Midway down they encountered a
room filled with crystal and rich furnishings and a silk-robed
table. Obviously a dining room. Glass vases were set with flowers
and low end-tables lurked in the periphery.

Baus frowned,
musing. Despite the austerity of the Vulde’s residence, there
seemed a definite sense of opulence here. The lord was clearly a
man of taste and wealth, likely power: one not to be crossed. The
fluttery foreboding in Baus’s stomach began to grow.

The hall
narrowed; two narrow rooms with closed doors lay to either side. To
one door the Dakkaw reached for the far doorknob, then smilingly,
reached for the other. Valere and Baus exchanged glances, wondering
what this significant exchange meant.

The door
opened soundlessly and into the murk they peered, spying nothing at
first, but hearing a soft, tangible breathing.

Valere raised
his torch. Buttery light revealed a young woman reposed in a double
bed surmounted with a silken canopy. She was an incredible beauty
in every respect and Baus stared with the most lively interest.
Fulsome brown locks tumbled exquisitely down white cheeks. A
sideways glance showed a visage moulded with ruby lips which purred
sleepily like some gorgeous feline. The colour of her gown was pale
robin’s egg blue and Baus caught a glimpse a pearly-white nape of
neck, a seductive curve of breasts very neatly traced in silk
beneath the covers . . .

The Dakkaw
stared no less hungrily at the sight of her, murmuring a dreamy
sigh. With little reservation, he struggled forward, ready to fling
a harsh hand over her mouth and take her by surprise.

Baus flinched.
The ogre was three times her size and about to treat this innocent
creature like a sack of grain and he could not bear it. From his
pocket, he withdrew two shallot bulbs, which he had been saving for
such an occasion. He stalked boldly forth.

His stealth
had no effect on the ogre who had already committed to his course.
Brazenly he reached to snatch at the girl, but twisted around in
dismay when Baus confronted him from behind. With brutal precision,
he swatted Baus and flung him to the planks like a rag doll. The
noise alerted Delizra, whose wide, stirring eyes fluttered in pure
terror.

The notes of
her scream hung rigidly in the air, echoing about the chamber like
ghost gibber then racing down the adjoining hall. The next thing
Baus knew was the Dakkaw had her clamped in his arms, sallow eyes
gleaming. A madman’s lust was in his expression, his breath was a
wegmor’s gust upon her pale, trembling cheek. Swiftly he rolled her
up in a ball, shambled with all speed for the door.

Delizra struck
at him with her fists, knocked him with her knees but her puny
strength was no use against the Dakkaw. He crushed her tighter to
his body and Valere bravely blocked the ogre’s way, but the ogre
swatted him aside as easily as Baus, and now almost trampled the
two.

Baus struggled
to his knees, flinging the onion and shallot before the door. The
bulbs fell rolling between the doorway and the path where the
Dakkaw was ready to exit. For a hairy second the monster hesitated,
then he hopscotched back, clutching one hand at his eyes, the other
at the girl as if he were in pain.

Delizra
clamped teeth hard on his knotty wrist. The Dakkaw screeched.
Momentarily he lost his grip on her. The maid wriggled, scrambled
away on her haunches toward a corner of the room. The Dakkaw lunged
but she was already skidding back to the bedside. A great ringing
suddenly erupted from within the manor—a warning gong. A furious
motion came from the halls—scurrying feet, confused shouts. Baus
quailed. Steel slithered from scabbards. He saw a flicker of angry
torches dimly glinting in the hallway. The Dakkaw forced his eyes
open. They glowed with icy purpose and he advanced upon Baus.

The gong
pounded on. The Dakkaw took hold of his senses and attempted to
leap half madly over the two banes of shallot obstructing his
path.

The effort was
dilatory. Valere thrust his torch into the ogre’s face. He singed
an eyebrow.

A tall,
ruddy-cheeked defender burst into the chamber. He had a wolfish
face and was garbed in the grey-black robe of a servant. He
brandished a rapier which he used with fluid ease to slice at the
Dakkaw. The ogre danced back. Without fear, the swordsman launched
a vicious thrust. The stab was easily eluded, as was the next,
which the Dakkaw repulsed with a quick duck-winging of elbows. He
caught the blade on his leather jerkin and twisted the attacker
aside. Maddened beyond belief, the ogre thrust a fist to hammer
back the aggressor. The swordsman went flying, smacking against the
wall, knocked out of breath. The blow had struck breastbone, and
the avenger slumped dizzily down unto his knees.

The Dakkaw
leapt out into the hall. His form was a sinister silhouette in the
soft light. A triumphant rumble formed on his lips.

He was not far
in his escape before several of the house guard were on the way.
They intercepted with prejudice. Garbed in overcloaks of red and
green, the men wielded whips and long pointed swords. With glee,
they snapped and hacked at the ogre.

The Dakkaw
danced and dodged with leaps and snorts. He fist-clubbed many,
sending bruised and blackened watchmen to their knees. But by and
by they overpowered him in sheer numbers and weighed him down with
chains and ropes.

It took
thirteen of them to control the giant and quell his fierceness.
Snarls and raging insults ripped from his foaming jowl before they
mastered his stupendous strength. Humbled to a cowed beast, the
Dakkaw was dragged away to suffer whatever penalties the citizenry
of Krintz had in mind.

Now Delizra
crouched weakly at the bedside. She hastened to console the tall,
dark-haired gentleman who was slowly reviving. He was long-faced
and wolf-eyed and graced with keen brows, and not without a
graceful air to his bearing. The girl noticed Baus for the first
time and hesitated. She seemed to harbour a curious affection for
her protector, which Baus could not quite understand.

A new figure
abruptly emerged into the bedchamber—a hawk-faced individual
standing thickly in the doorway: He was tall and confident,
projecting an air of absolute authority. His lank, jet-black hair
streamed down his flaring cheeks. Grey hair though fringed his
temples. His eyes were a flash of blue light, writ with an
imperturbable gaze. He wore a billowy chestnut night robe and soft
slippers laced with purple ties. On his breast, the coat-of-arms of
an eagle and a three-masted schooner was woven, obviously an emblem
of distinction. He looked palely toward his daughter and marched
in, with his breath drawn like a plucked violin.

“Delizra!
Whatever of the three gods of Krutu has happened here?”

“Father!” she
cried. The girl leaped, arched arms about her father. The Vulde,
lord of Silsoor manor, clasped his younger daughter with a thrill
of discovery. He knew that she was safe from further
molestation.

Baus and
Valere attempted a wry smile. Their half-sidling retreat to the
door did not go unnoticed. Three scowling watchmen herded them back
into the corner. Another attempt to slink away was thwarted—three
swordtips aimed impolitely at their throats.

“Well,
brigands!” cried the lord fiercely. “What have you to say in your
defence before I have you tarred and whipped?” He made swift
strides to stand quivering before them.

Baus gave a
laboured sneer. “Would you torture innocent men, lord? We were as
much to credit for saving your daughter as your braveheart here. We
were as much the Dakkaw’s prisoners as was your daughter. If not
for our impromptu acts, we would all be dead. Recall the shallot I
lodged at the monster—” He gestured importantly to the crushed
bulbs oozing on the polished wooden planks.

The Vulde
lowered his glance. He gave a soft grunt. Scanning the crushed
items and his whimpering daughter, he settled his gaze on the two
sullen-eyed intruders in new light. “Well, there is much that is a
mystery here.” The intensity in his eyes diminished.

“’Tis true,
Father,” the girl admitted. “The two intruders attempted to impede
the ogre by cunning force. This red-bearded gentleman thrust a
blazing brand in the monster’s eyes; the other fearlessly flung
fresh shallots at his feet to beguile the ogre’s lust.”

The Vulde gave
an incredulous frown. He declared brusquely, “Who are you? From
where do you come? Speak candidly or I shall cut out your tongues
like I shall the Dakkaw.”

“I am Baus of
Heagram,” answered Baus frankly. Bowing, he made a favourable
impression, a reckless smile pasted on his dry lips.

“I am Valere
of Illim,” Valere offered curtly. “My service heralds no less
genuinely than Baus’s.”

“Is that so?”
snapped the Vulde.

Baus hastened
to explain: “You have us pegged in the wrong light. The Dakkaw
ensnared us in a glade near the Old Krintz ruins. In Bisiguth, he
confined us, forcing us to obey his evil wishes. Recently, he
ordered us to remove the barriers you erect, so that we might
commit acts of vandalism. We were loath to carry out such crimes,
and were further obliged to guard the hallway under penalty of
death while he was to champion your daughter.”

The Vulde
rubbed his eyes with the most fearful contempt, then he shook his
head in ungovernable anger. “This Dakkaw is a criminal degenerate.
This is what I know of the creature’s depraved wish right from the
outset!—as far back as the days when we exiled him from our quaint
town.” The lord looked about the room appalled. Baus caught a
glimpse of an anguished man on the brink of almost losing his
daughter and thought to walk carefully regarding any misplaced
quips or fibs.

“Well, if this
is true, then you are both heroes.”

Baus and
Valere accepted the tribute with uneasy grace.

Another man
strode sullenly into the room, one with rounded cheeks, a baby
face, tiny blond ringlets pasted to set of narrow ears. His neck
was thin, his mouth quivering as he was dressed up in a pretentious
gold and blue suit with silver lining, cufflinks, tall black boots
and pale blue hose. The features of the man’s face seemed carved
into an insincere rictus. From grey eyes he stole a look of almost
condescending disapproval at the intruders and their relation with
the girl who, frightened out her wits, he seemed to be quite fond
of. He scooted over to give her a squeeze and dropped to a knee,
taking her hand. “Delizra, my sweet beloved! What has happened to
your innocent daintiness? I see you are ruffled and distraught.
Whatever has befallen you? Are you hurt?”

“Not at all,”
she replied coolly. She withdrew her hand, sniffing with
ill-concealed unease. “Brave Tulesio here—” she motioned to the
wolf-faced man “—initiated the first feint upon the ogre, these two
here finished the job—”

The newcomer
glared at the two newcomers. “I shall have these rogues whipped and
dragged through the briar before they are all hanged! Attend! These
must be the ragbeards themselves, grumbling while picking at their
teeth like a pair of bumpkins. Ah, the monster Dakkaw. We now have
him in our custody, tethered to Woybur’s obelisk and shall punish
with hot irons and staves.”