Total pages in book: 222
Estimated words: 210715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1054(@200wpm)___ 843(@250wpm)___ 702(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 210715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1054(@200wpm)___ 843(@250wpm)___ 702(@300wpm)
“Do you think the hunters might have killed the mother?” I asked.
“It would take many great hunters. The men who sold her to us were few and not that great.”
We passed by a cage. The man inside it grinned at me. I took another step.
Wait, what?
I stopped and leaned back to look.
The man from the Garden. What the actual fuck?
He sat on the floor of the cage, one knee bent, foot planted on the floor, his arm resting on his knee. No cloak this time, just a jerkin, pants, and boots, all in charcoal gray. He was lean and long legged. His light brown hair looked a bit disheveled, and a short brown beard traced his jaw. He’d been clean-shaven in the Garden, and I was pretty sure a man couldn’t go from smooth jaw to a beard that full in two weeks. And it did not match his eyebrows.
He was smiling at me like a happy wolf panting in the forest.
I pointed at him.
“That one is not merchandise,” the beastmaster said.
“He is an intruder,” the guard told me. “We found him in the courtyard in the middle of the night.”
Aha. “But he didn’t steal anything.”
“He didn’t. We found him before he could try,” the guard confirmed.
Crap. I’d worked too hard on making friends with Clan Harzi. I would need them later. I had to fix this right now.
I turned to the beastmaster. “This man is dangerous.”
“Him?” The beastmaster eyed the man in the cage.
“He is more than he seems. You caught him because he wanted to be caught. I don’t know what his purpose is, but it’s not good. He’s a lord. Killing or detaining him will bring trouble to the clan.”
The beastmaster sighed.
“Why should we believe you?” the guard asked.
“No one allies with a clan just for a mordok,” the beastmaster said. “She will want more from us. If we are harmed, she cannot benefit.”
“You are wise, nura.” I bowed my head.
The beastmaster sighed again. Harzi culture dictated that thieves were to be made example of. More, he had broken into their clanhouse, which insulted them and damaged their reputation. They couldn’t just let him go. They couldn’t keep him either.
“You said he wasn’t merchandise, but may I buy him?”
The beastmaster raised his thick eyebrows. This was the best solution to the problem. The clan would profit from his presence, which would wipe away the black eye on their honor.
“The price will have to be fair,” the beastmaster warned. We both knew it was another favor to the clan, but proprieties had to be observed.
“Of course, nura.”
We pondered the man in the cage.
“I have never sold a human before,” the beastmaster said.
“I have never bought one before.”
“What would be a fair price . . .”
“How long have you kept him?”
“Since last night.”
“He looks to be about the size of the oruke bull in that stall over there. Should we say the cost of the bull and enough money to pay for a dinner and green wine for the guards who captured him and for his keeper?”
The beastmaster tilted his head side to side, thinking. “Seems fair. That will come to thirty dens.”
I switched to Rellasian. “Lute, please hand the man thirty dens.”
Lute extracted his purse and counted off the money. Best thirty dens we would ever spend.
“Prepare him,” the beastmaster told the guard. The younger man bowed his head and jogged off.
“Come with me, small foreigner,” the beastmaster said. “The mordoks are kept just beyond here, in the gardens. Let me introduce you to your new best friend.”
CHAPTER 26
I walked out of Clan Harzi’s gates with a mordok on my shoulder and a chain in my hands. The chain was attached to a collar around the man’s neck. They’d also tied his feet so he could walk but not run, and his wrists, and they’d gagged him with a strip of cloth. For people who didn’t trade in humans, they were remarkably thorough.
We walked down the street without saying a word, as fast as we could without the man tripping. I was leading a human being on a chain. I wanted to end this ASAP.
The street was deserted. Please stay deserted. Please don’t let anyone see me.
The streets of Fifth Hill didn’t have corners or intersections. It was all a single road, and it wound around the hill in a spiral. As soon as we made it around the first curve, I stopped. The mordok riding on the leather pauldron on my shoulder decided that would be an appropriate time for shrieking into my ear.
“Cut his ropes, please,” I told Lute.
Lute gave me a cautious look, crouched slowly, and sliced through the tether on the man’s legs. His arm restraints were next. I stepped closer and unlocked his collar.
The man from the Garden pulled the gag out of his mouth, stretched, and kicked the restraints to the side of the road. The metal collar made a screeching sound as it slid over the cobbles.