Charlotte Boyett-Compo- WIND VERSE- Prisoners of the Wind by Unknown Read Free Book Online Page A

interludes.”
    “Interludes,” Villarreal muttered. “That’s a genteel way of
putting what he does. At least he didn’t come back this time as the big cat.”
    Tarnes laughed. “I’ve got to tell him that one, Villarreal!
He’ll get a kick out of it. If I remember the last time he did, that when we
had a new crewman onboard, the man slimed himself trying to scramble away from
the transport pad.” He fanned the air in front of his face. “Now that was
a smell!”
    “The shape change doesn’t bother me all that much. It’s the
not knowing if he’s going to be a man or a beast that makes me uneasy,”
Villarreal said. “But it is a bit unsettling when you look and there he is
snarling at you with those wicked fangs still stained with an enemy’s blood.
That I don’t care for.”
    “Umm, aye, I must confess that startles me when he appears
in Tiogar form. Thank the gods he doesn’t do it all that often.” Tarnes thought
about it for a moment. “You know I think that only happens when he’s too tired
to shift back. And it might have something to do with how ferocious he’d been
during the hunt.”
    Villarreal shuddered. “The hunt,” he repeated. “Now that’s a
term to make a man have nightmares.”
    Tarnes nodded. “Let’s hope we never
do anything to have him on our trail!”

Chapter Five
     
    It was two days before Marin saw the Tiogar again. She had
been sitting listlessly in her cell, staring at the dull gray walls and feeling
more claustrophobic with each passing hour she was awake. Her sleep had been
troubled with images of violence she knew came from her captor. The rivers of
crimson blood flowing through pristine green valleys, rocky ledges littered
with bleached bones drying in the sun had long since ceased to upset her.
Violent scenes of horrendous death and devastating destruction no longer
surprised her when they intruded. Something told her the Tiogar wasn’t even
aware he was transmitting such atrocities to her. Something told her she was
intercepting his dreams.
    She had asked the steward, who brought her two meals of the
day, if she could have some small measure of freedom outside her cell, but he
had shaken his head in denial.
    “The captain would drain me drier than a husk if I so much
as let you step one foot outside this cell, ma’am.”
    “May I at least have a basin of warm water and a cloth so I
can wash up?”
    “I’ll have to check with Mr. Tarnes,” the steward had
replied.
    But no basin of water had been brought to her. There was
nothing in the cell with which to pass the time and the dull gray walls were
beginning to close in on her. Luckily, there was a stainless steel toilet and
tiny sink with cold running water for her sanitary needs.
    Marin drew her legs up onto the cot and lowered her head to
her knees. She was a prisoner and she had to reconcile herself to that fate. If
her mother knew where she was, she apparently didn’t care, else she would have
sent someone to rescue her. Feeling sorry for herself, she was crying quietly
when the door to her cell snicked open.
    “Miss me, wench?” he asked.
    “No,” she said, wincing at the peevishness she heard in her
tone.
    “Not lying there wondering when I’d next appear to ravage
you?” he inquired.
    “You’ll do what you’re going to do,” she said. “What good
would it do me to worry about it?”
    The Tiogar chuckled. “You’ve got spunk, wench. I’ll give you
that.”
    She sat up and leaned against the wall. “Were you keeping
away from me so I could sit here and worry about your next visit, Captain?” she
asked. “If so, I hate to disappoint you.”
    He grinned. “I just bet you do, but no, it wasn’t by choice
I kept away from you, wench. We had a slight run-in with a band of pirates or
I’d have been back sooner.”
    Slowly lifting her head, Marin looked up into the
expressionless face of her warden. “You look none the worse for wear, Captain,”
she said. “I assume you won the