Timothy Boggs - Hercules Legendary Joureneys 01 by By The Sword Read Free Book Online

in concentration, and shrugged his apology. "I don't remember the others."
    "It doesn't matter. They're dead anyway."
    Crisalt agreed. "But Hercules is taking them to King Arclin."
    Zorin's hand waved the point away. "Who cares?"
    Crisalt agreed again.
    Zorin considered the tips of his fingers for a few seconds, then rose and stepped down from the dais to stand over the prisoner. "And.. ." His voice rose slightly. "And Hercules told you to tell me that this village..." He paused, looked over his shoulder, snapped a finger.
    "Markan," Crisalt told him.
    ' 'Yes, yes, Markan. That Markan is now under his protection, and I'm to keep my distance?"
    After a long hesitation the prisoner nodded.
    Zorin could see the blood drying on the man's back, could see the pattern of lashes a whip had laid across it. He crouched down and balanced on his toes, rocking slightly as he hooked a finger under the man's chin and forced his face up.
    He smiled.
    The prisonershuddered.
    "And what," Zorin asked softly, "do you think he meant by that, man?"
    The prisoner tried to speak, but Zorin's finger held his mouth closed.
    "A threat?" Zorin frowned, but kept his voice low. "What a shame." He lifted the face higher, straining the man's neck muscles. "Do you think he knows what happens to those who threaten Zorin?"
    He couldn't tell if the man had suddenly been taken by a seizure or was only trying to shake his head.
    It didn't matter.

    He snapped his hand up so fast, not even Crisalt could tell exactly when the prisoner's neck snapped, or when, precisely, the flesh parted at the hollow of his throat.
    Zorin watched the man topple to one side, stared at the body and blood in distaste for a moment, and stood. Slowly. Making sure the others saw how annoyed he was.
    How angry he was.
    How enraged he was.
    "Crisalt."
    "Sir!"
    Zorin returned to the dais, but instead of taking his seat again, he walked around to the back. To a large iron chest wrapped in silver chains.
    Red light glowed from cracks in the metal.
    Crisalt joined him.
    "Any word?" Zorin asked as he scratched thoughtfully through his beard.
    "Not yet, no."
    "What do you think?"
    Crisalt was the only man in Zorin's army who dared speak his mind. He was also the only man who knew when to speak his mind, and when to keep his big mouth shut.
    He grunted noncommittally.
    "Good point." Zorin caressed one of the silver chains.
    The chest seemed to vibrate.
    "Tell me something, my friend."
    The only sound in the tent was the voice of the fire.
    Crisalt didn't move, didn't speak. When his leader spent valuable time staring at the chest instead of planning the next attack, there was bound to be trouble. It never failed.
    "Why do you suppose a man who tends oxen would call himself Theo the Mangier?"
    Well, hardly ever failed.
    "Self-esteem," said Crisalt instantly.
    "Really?"
    "It was his first time, you know, my lord. He probably needed something to build up his courage."
    "Ah." Zorin nodded his approval. "Not a bad idea."
    "No, my lord."
    "But he did fail, didn't he?"
    "Yes, my lord."
    "Which means he has to die, doesn't it, Crisalt?"
    "Yes, my lord."
    "So tell me, my friend . . . how do you kill someone who calls himself the Mangier?"
    Crisalt was stumped. Zorin's expression gave nothing away, nor did his hand cease caressing the silver chain. Not that it was all that important. Theo the Idiot would be interrogated by the king, would escape the dungeon thanks to a few well-placed dinars here and there, would come hightailing it back to the valley, and would be bloody lucky Zorin didn't pull him apart personally, limb by limb, before anyone said,
    "Hello, Theo, Where've you been?"
    Several minutes passed.
    Neither man said a word.
    Shadows on the tent's back wall crawled like snakes toward the top.
    "I will tell you something, old friend," Zorin said, in a voice Crisalt had never heard before.
    "I'm listening."
    Zorin turned his back on the chest. "If it hadn't been for those two thieves, I would