Eyes widening, Fenis took several careful steps back, his heel hitting against Karis, the young Ratonga barely reacting. He cursed whoever it was that had promised the mission's safety, had convinced the human that he needed no weapons. He conveniently forgot that he had convinced himself with a mug of mead. He realized after his startled reaction that he might have passed himself off as a Freeport citizen. The notion did not remain long. Even if he could have faked his way out of the dire situation, his principles would not let him. He had escaped Freeport once – he had decided long ago never to pretend he belonged to that hell. His fists clenched, and he steadied himself. Damn if he would go down without a fight!
The ensuing chuckle caught him off guard.
"Why, if it isn't dear Squire Fenis," a voice full of spiteful mirth said, following the cold laugh. A hope of reformed Tier'Dal left Fenis's mind as quickly as it had entered. A woman pushed through from the rear of the force, hollow grin spread across her dark face. The recognition unnerved Fenis – he could not reciprocate the act towards the heavily armored Tier'Dal. He squinted, studying her sharp face. He had left Freeport more than five season turns prior, but he had always prided himself on his memory.
"You have a wonderfully high bounty on your head," she continued in her low voice.
Well, that explained things.
The Tier'Dal continued to walk towards him, an ornate sword soon resting in her gloved hand. Fenis backed another pace, now standing completely over the whimpering Ratonga. He glanced down towards her, then back to the advancing warrior. Why had he stopped that high elf fantasy? Fenis groaned with the thought. Being adrift with no land in sight was a far better fate than this predicament. He wanted to raise up a sword, but he was no thief, and could not disarm any of the elves standing before him.
Karis, large ears twitching back at the sound of a powerful female voice, slowly looked up. She had seen such beautiful, dark-skinned elves before, around the narrow roads of Temple Street and even one on the ship. She did not understand the dangerous situation she lay in the middle of, confused by the elf's grin and Fenis's fear. She pushed herself up several inches.
The movement caught the Tier'Dal's eyes. She cast a casual glance to the wretched, rat-like creature. "Trying to take a few more pests to Qeynos?" she spat, holding now great like for Ratonga (nor any of the other races that shared Freeport), and she found nothing amusing enough about the desolate creature's face to joke about. The coldness sent Karis back to cowering in the sand.
Seeing his chance to at least give the child her life, though now the degree of freedom she might have found in gentle Qeynos, Fenis stepped back again. The Ratonga lay between him and the dark elves. He was quickly resigning himself to his immediate fate (how could an unarmed, weary human hope to escape or defeat a Tier'Dal army with no escape routes in sight?) and saw no reason to deny himself once last chance to perform. Though no bard, the gruff fighter had always delighted in harmless (and sometimes helpful) acts.. He even grinned at the prospect, but the expression spread across his face as a malicious smile.
He toppled the child over with a nudge of his boot, sending her face-forward once again into the sand. Before any gathered, even Karis, could raise a voice in protest or question, he shook his head and gave a hollow laugh. The sound sent a shudder down the Ratonga's spine as her mind raced with questions.
"Not a chance," he sneered coldly, inwardly applauding himself for the perfect inflection. "Ah came fer summ'un else, ba 'e was swallowed by tha sea. Ah thought Ah might try ter bring tha first rat ter Qeynos . . ." he paused for dramatic effect, grinning as he baited in the listening dark elves, but careful to resume weaving his tale quickly, so that Karis would not interject with the truth. "Tha runt refused me offer!" he shouted indignantly after as long as he dared to wait, chuckling on the inside as he watched the gathered soldiers jump back. "Rue tha day that Qeynos shelters such filth!"
It was a blatant lie, he knew. Several Ratonga had found their home in Qeynos already, but he hoped the gathered Tier'Dal were ignorant of that fact. He had also never mentioned Qeynos to Karis, let alone ask her to travel there, but he hoped the girl would either recognize his ruse or be too stunned to reject his tale. Risking a concerned glance down, it pained him to realize her silence came from the latter scenario. A frown began to cross his face, but he quickly contorted it to an angry twitch. He glared back up to the dark elves.
The Tier'Dal commander looked from Fenis to Karis, scowl across her face. She would have found great content in sliding her sword across the rat's throat, but such a matter was for another to sort out. No one would question a dead rat, common sense stayed her sword and bringing in such a high bounty placated her. She motioned forward the two closest soldiers.
"Take the girl to Inquisitor Balar and let him have his way with her." The two nodded and moved forward, hostilely pulling the Ratonga to her feet.
Karis groaned, body still weak from her struggles against both the water and the devil who had saved her. Her mind had not yet grasped everything around her, and new thoughts moved sluggishly through her ideas. Cold metal pinched at her skin as the dark elves dragged her forward by her arms. Not caring even to lessen the physical pain, dulled in comparison to the emotional torment, she let her bare feet pull through the sand. She cast a final look back to the human, still too stunned by his lies to try to speak.
Were the Tier'Dal not watching him, Fenis would have given the girl a wink and a comforting smile. He could only continue to glare at her, wondering if he had chosen the right course. Would a quick death have been kinder, a better fate than setting the broken child against a seasoned inquisitor? Death might still await her at the interrogator's discretion, and even if she lived, death would always loom around her back in Freeport. The idea tugged at Fenis's heart, and he thought, nor for the last time, that the Tier'Dal putting a dagger in her heart might have been more merciful. He breathed back his sigh and looked back up to the dark elves.
The problem of the rat out of sight, and soon out of mind, the commander found her cold smirk again. She glanced back to her warriors, barking a few commands in Thexian, and nodded as all but two of her small army turned to set back to the island's stronghold. Large groups always spoiled her fun.
"Well, Fenis," she said quietly, the excitable edge in her voice sending a chill down Fenis's back, "we've a long way to go together. The Militia will be quite glad to finally have a live squire in its grasp, though I'm sure that adjective will only last a few days."
Fenis had to bite back his grin, even as the Tier'Dal added on such grim news.
They wanted him alive? The prospect of traveling all the way back to Freeport, with the obviously sadistic dark elf, daunted him . . . but he could not deny the hope that outlook gave him. He kept a frown on his face as the two remaining warriors locked heavy manacles around his wrists, and shuddered honestly as the Tier'Dal commander cast him a grin and began to march him to the dock. But inside, he laugh, smiled, and nearly danced.
Perhaps that would not be his final performance.