Shadows Return Part 39

"Then it would be better for them to keep their mouths shut, wouldn't it?" said Alec.

Seregil looked over at Sebrahn, riding placidly on Alec's back again. "This rhekaro scared them both, even after he healed the girl, and he's too strange to forget. That might make it worth their while."

"You should have killed them, then," Ilar muttered.

"Aren't you the bloodthirsty one, these days?"

"Oh, how that wounds me, coming from you!"

"I only kill when I have to. I don't enjoy it." He gave Ilar a dark look. "Well, not usually. As for killing those poor starvelings, it's no different than stealing Yhakobin's horses."

"You could have burned the house."

"You want to go back and paint an arrow on the wall to make sure they know we came this way?" Alec snapped.

Ilar shut his mouth and kept his distance.

They hurried on, Alec leading them east to confound any trackers who talked to the goatherd. Suddenly Seregil-who'd been uncommonly quiet-reached out and ruffled Sebrahn's hair. "You surely aren't human or 'faie, but you're not just a thing, either, I guess."

"No, he's not," Ilar agreed, much to Alec's surprise. "As great an alchemist as Il-as Yhakobin is, I don't think he understood what he created."

Alec spared him a mocking grin. "Because of my mongrel blood."

"That may be exactly it," Seregil mused, still studying Sebrahn. "We don't know what a rhekaro is supposed to look like."

"I saw a few drawings in the old tomes Yhakobin used," Ilar told him. "They showed something with a human shape, apart from the wings."

"Well, that's something, I suppose. So, he has teeth but doesn't eat. He moves and bleeds whatever that white juice is but has no heart. He appears to have some sort of mind-"

"And he can feel pain," Alec reminded him. "But not cold."

"When Yhakobin finished with the first one he made..." Ilar began.

Alec stopped dead, a dangerous look in his eyes. "You were there? You helped butcher it?"

Seregil gripped Alec's arm, holding him back. "What did you see, Ilar?"

Ilar looked rather ill. "It didn't die easily. He had to keep cutting it up."

Alec sank to the ground and pulled Sebrahn into his arms, holding him tight.

"What did he find?" Seregil asked.

"Something like bones and organs, but they were all colorless, and he could not guess their function."

"I see." Seregil squeezed Alec's shoulder. "Let's keep going."

Alec settled Sebrahn in his sling again and took the lead without a word, but Seregil could feel the rage boiling in his lover's heart. It coursed along the talimenios bond like molten lead.

He had to keep cutting it up...

Seregil glanced over at Sebrahn and felt sick at the thought.

When they stopped in a dry gully, just before dawn, Seregil's thoughts had turned to other things.

They settled as comfortably as they could, sheltered by a few wind-twisted cedars that overhung the bank. Seregil sat down beside Sebrahn and stroked the rhekaro's hair. "You're a fine healer, little one, with those flowers of yours."

That got a wan smile from Alec. "He is, isn't he? Maybe if Yhakobin had figured that out, he wouldn't have hurt them so much."

"The fact that he didn't know makes me wonder what he was after." Seregil paused, working up the nerve to broach the idea that had come to him during the night's march. "Alec, I'm going to need your help with something. Is your knife still good and sharp?"

"Yes. Why?"

Seregil pushed back his right sleeve and ran a thumb over the slave mark.

"Oh, no! Are you insane?"

Seregil grinned. "Probably, but that's beside the point at the moment. I'm going to need your help."

"What are you talking about?" Ilar demanded.

"You said it yourself," Seregil replied. "These marks are nothing I want to wear for the rest of my life. And if we're caught with them here, then there's no talking our way out of anything."

"And I told you that the first thing the slave takers look for is a new wound where the brand should be."

Seregil nodded at Sebrahn. "But what if there isn't one to find?"

He unbuckled his belt and folded the end over, then clenched it between his front teeth. "That should do. Let's do the leg brand first, Alec. That's less likely to be noticed in pa.s.sing, if this doesn't work."

"Why not try it on Ilar first?" asked Alec.

Ilar was halfway to his feet already, and looked ready to bolt.

"That's why," said Seregil. "He'll fight and scream and we could end up hamstringing him. And it can't be you, either. You're the only one Sebrahn listens to, and if he sees me come at you with a knife, he might not be very cooperative." He grinned and ruffled Alec's hair. "Don't worry, tali. I've been through worse."

True. But not for a long time.

It took a little more convincing, but finally he talked them both into it. Ilar stood with Sebrahn, holding the cup of water. Seregil stretched out in the dirt on his belly, clutching the folded belt. Alec knelt over him with the knife and pulled up his trouser leg to expose the brand.

He gripped Seregil's leg, and Seregil was glad that hand was steady. "Be quick, Alec, and try not to cut too deep. Just the skin."

"I know."

Seregil put the folded leather between his teeth and bit down. He felt Alec pinch up the skin on the back of his calf, then bit down hard on the belt as Alec started cutting.

Seregil probably had been through worse, and Alec probably was working as quickly as he could, but it certainly didn't seem like it as white-hot pain shot up Seregil's leg. Having the brand flayed off hurt worse than having it burned on. Panting around the folded belt, he was only dimly aware when Alec stopped and said something to the others.

An agonizing moment later, hands gripped his calf and he snarled and jerked in their grip as something cold and wet touched his raw flesh.

"Lie still!" Alec ordered.

The cold sensation came back, but this time the pain subsided considerably. He tried to look over his shoulder, but Alec pushed him down again. "Stay still, please. It's going to take a few more."

After the second flower the pain was bearable. After the third he spit out the belt and buried his head in his folded arms, covered in cold sweat and overwhelmed by the heavy perfume of the healing flowers.

Alec used one more, and the last of the pain was gone. "It worked!"

Seregil rolled over and stuck out his arm. "Do the other."

"Maybe we should wait."

Seregil let out a shaky laugh. "If we do that, you'll have to run me down and catch me. Just do it!" He jammed the belt back in his mouth and locked his left arm across his eyes.

Either he had more feeling in the underside of his arm or Alec had to cut deeper. Seregil was fighting back wheezing little screams before Alec stopped and applied the flowers.

When it was over he let his left arm fall and lay staring up at the dawn sky, willing himself not to throw up.

Alec bent over him, concerned. "Does it still hurt?"

"No," Seregil gasped, "but that was less fun than I thought it would be."

Vomiting less imminent now, he sat up and examined his forearm. The brand was gone. The skin where it had been was smooth and thin, but whole. There was some lingering pain, actually, but nothing he couldn't stand. He looked up at the others. Alec was pale, and the fingers holding the knife were b.l.o.o.d.y but still steady. Ilar looked sick as he knelt beside Sebrahn with the cup. "Thank you. Everyone." He reached over and gave the rhekaro a shaky pat on the head. "Especially you!"

The rhekaro held out its right forefinger; a drop of his white blood had welled out from the little cut there.

Seregil smiled. "Yes. You made my pain go away. Thank you."

Alec managed a grin when he handed the b.l.o.o.d.y knife to Seregil. "My turn, if you're up to it. Pinch up the skin and cut under it. You're less likely to cut into the meat that way."

Seregil shuddered as he handed Alec the belt. "I'm really glad you didn't say that while you were still cutting."

Alec shrugged, then put his hands on Sebrahn's shoulders. "Seregil is going to cut me now. That's all right. I'm letting him, and you'll make those flowers for me, too, won't you?"

The rhekaro gazed up at him, silent and emotionless as ever.

"All right." Alec stretched out on the ground between them and buried his face in his arms. His voice was m.u.f.fled as he added, "I just hope you're as good as I am at skinning things."

Seregil's hand tightened around the black hilt. "Bite on the leather. I'll be as quick as I can."

Ilar gripped Alec's calf at the ankle and just below the knee, his face inches from Seregil's. Their eyes met, and Seregil was surprised at the encouragement he saw there as Ilar murmured, "Don't make him wait."

Seregil pinched up the smooth golden skin around Alec's brand. The hard muscle underneath was lean and corded. Seregil took a deep breath, then sliced away the brand in one go, leaving a raw oval of exposed flesh. He sat back on his heels and watched as Sebrahn placed a large dark flower on the bleeding wound. It disappeared, just as he'd seen at the goatherd's cottage. The rhekaro made three more, and when the last had done its work and the wound was closed, Alec let out a choked moan and rolled over, still clutching the belt between his teeth. Tears of pain welled in his eyes as he stuck out his arm and gave Seregil an imploring look that said hurry. hurry.

Seregil quickly sliced out the second brand and helped Sebrahn place the flowers. When that wound was healed he grabbed Alec's hand in both of his, heedless of the blood. "Better?"

Alec spit out the gnawed belt and closed his eyes. "You're right," he whispered. "That wasn't much fun."

Sebrahn curled up next to him with his head on Alec's chest. Alec stroked his hair. "You did a good job."

Seregil looked over at Ilar, and saw him swallow hard. He was terrified. "I could hide if the slave takers come."

"We can't risk that. If we're caught with a marked slave, Alec and I are just as dead as if we'd stayed branded. It doesn't take long, and the flowers take away the pain very quickly."

Ilar nodded slowly, though he was trembling badly. "I'm not as brave as you two. You'd better hold me down. Seregil, will you do the cutting?"

"All right. Lie down."

Ilar was already whimpering as Alec lay down across him, pinning Ilar's leg with both hands. Seregil braced one knee on the back of Ilar's calf and went to work.

Ilar screamed around the belt but didn't struggle very much as Seregil sliced off the branded skin. Sebrahn placed the flowers as before, but Seregil noticed that they were smaller now, and it took more of them to heal the wound.

When that was over, Alec got off Ilar. "Turn over."

"I can't! No more!" Ilar whimpered.

"Yes, you can." Alec roughly flipped Ilar over and flattened himself across the sobbing man to grip his arm.

Ilar did struggle this time, making it harder for Seregil to make a single clean cut. His fingers were slippery with blood and he got only half the brand, and managed to slice his own thumb, too.

"Stop moving, d.a.m.n it! You're only making it worse."

Ilar froze, trying to choke back his sobs.

"Cover his eyes, Alec." Seregil got the rest of the brand off and sat back to let Sebrahn do his healing work.

Despite the healing, Ilar was a sobbing wreck. Seregil patted his shoulder awkwardly. "That's enough, now. Come on. Get up."

Seregil tried to pull him up, but Ilar's legs wouldn't hold him and Seregil ended up on the ground again with Ilar halfway in his lap, clutching Seregil's coat in both hands. Seregil had little choice but to hold him until he calmed down. He could feel the raised ridges of old scars under his hands, through the back of Ilar's thin robe. Past suffering had made Seregil stronger, and Alec, too. It had broken Ilar.

"You're getting blood all over him."

Seregil looked up to find Alec cradling Sebrahn in his arms. He was watching Ilar with a mix of pity and disgust. But when he looked up at Seregil, he caught a flash of resentment there, too.

They sat like that for a long time as the sun came up, each of them holding another in their arms.

CHAPTER 43 43.

Divisions