Shroud of Eternity

CHAPTER 36

After watching Ulrich slaughtered in the combat arena, Bannon was angry. As he sat in the gathering darkness outside the villa, he remembered how distraught and confused the ancient stone warrior had looked upon awakening after fifteen centuries. Bannon had tried to help him, as he always tried to help those in need, but Ulrich was tricked and betrayed.

How the audience in the combat arena had cheered! Just as they had cheered when Ian, the champion, also fought for his life in front of the crowd. And the same people had watched so eagerly when the Norukai dragged in scores of abused captives to the slave market.

Bannon did not belong here in this city; he knew that in his heart. He didn’t understand the people of Ildakar, and he just wanted to go away. This was not the adventure he had been seeking, but he had to stay here until Nathan got the assistance he needed, and until Bannon found a way to free Ian from his long nightmare. Despite promises and reassurances, Amos had done nothing to gain Ian his freedom. He didn’t seem to care, but Bannon didn’t know what else to do.

“You look so glum, my friend!” Amos clapped him hard on the shoulder, startling him as he sat outside the villa on a stone bench. “It’s nighttime, when the pleasures of Ildakar come alive.” He flashed a bright grin. His two ever-present companions also came up behind him, dressed in fine fur-trimmed silks of blue, green, and orange.

“Come with us,” said Jed. “We’ll distract you.”

“I’m not in the mood,” Bannon said. “I’d rather stay in my quarters for tonight.”

“You have quarters here because we allow it,” Amos replied sourly, with a hint of a threat. “You tell brave stories of your great battles, but you’re afraid to join your new friends? Come, we’re going back to the silk yaxen. Now that you know what to expect, maybe you’ll have a better time at the dacha.”

“Sweet Sea Mother…” Bannon muttered to himself. “I told you that isn’t something I’d like to participate in. You go ahead.”

“At least accompany us,” Brock prodded. “Look at the beautiful ladies if you don’t want to touch them. There’s no requirement for what you have to do.”

“But you promised you’d help my friend Ian.”

Amos grimaced at the reminder. “We will, but not tonight. He’s been here for years, so there’s no hurry. Now, come with us.”

Bannon felt trapped, but he felt trapped by many things in Ildakar. He longed for when he, Nicci, and Nathan could travel the open countryside again with Mrra loping beside them. Ildakar seemed so crowded, with small spaces, tiny dwellings, narrow streets. Now he felt pressure from the three young men staring at him.

Maybe he would have a chance to talk more about Ian.… “All right, I’ll go with you.”

Laughing, the young men led the way. Now that they had coerced Bannon to join them, they barely bothered to notice him.

He let his thoughts wander as they went down the winding streets. He imagined somehow breaking Ian free from the training pits and escaping from the city. The two of them could survive out in the hills, find some of the towns or cities not far from Ildakar. Or, Ian could travel with their group and explore the vast Old World, have wondrous adventures … and Ian and Bannon would have a chance to recover their friendship.

Brock blurted out, “Maybe we should try a different dacha this time, Amos. There are plenty of silk yaxen in the city. Don’t you get tired of the same one?”

“The women are bred to be perfect. Why would I tire of perfection? Besides, Melody understands me.” His lips quirked in a sarcastic smile. “As much as the stupid girl understands anything.”

Bannon followed them past the crackling blue streetlights and through the labyrinth of cul-de-sacs and blooming orchards. The hum of crickets provided a low, soothing background. Night moths flitted around, circling the glow of the streetlights.

Amos’s steps grew more jaunty as they approached his favorite dacha. The same doorman regarded them from his stool. His pot of coins was more than half full. Without a word, he extended the pot so that Amos, Jed, and Brock could each drop a gold coin with a clink into the pile. Bannon fumbled for his money, but the doorman lifted a hand. “No charge for you, lad.”

Amos sniffed. “You turn away paying customers?”

“I’m not turning him away. I just know this one won’t do anything that requires payment.”

Bannon looked awkwardly from the doorman to Amos. “I don’t want an argument.”

Amos chuckled. “He thinks so little of you.”

They pushed their way inside, while Bannon hung back. “Why did you do that?”

The doorman scratched his unkempt beard. “The ladies get paid when customers do things that no one else would want to do. You don’t seem the type, young man, but if you spend much more time with those three, I’ll have to charge you soon enough.” His words sounded sour and disappointed.

Wrestling with his knotted stomach, Bannon ducked and went inside. The glowing scarlet lanterns and orange braziers made the place look ominous rather than romantic. His gaze moved past the divans, the laughing customers, and the fawning but oddly silent women.

He saw a hideous scarred face. Two of the Norukai stretched out on the divans, pawing at their chosen women, tearing their garments and grabbing breasts without bothering to find a private chamber. They drank from goblets of bloodwine. The women, the victims, made low noncommittal noises that the scarred slavers seemed to interpret as moans of pleasure.

Bannon recognized Yorik. “You like that?” the slaver asked the dull-eyed woman, squeezing the breast hard, then tweaked the nipple viciously. The girl whimpered, but her face wore a frozen smile. Yorik turned to one side and spat. “You don’t even know what you like.”

Amos strolled forward with a solicitous smile. “I see you found one of my favorites. This dacha has the best women, just as I told you on your first night.”

“They’re adequate,” said the big Norukai. He emptied his goblet and instead of refilling it, simply took the bottle and poured the rest of the wine down his throat. “They don’t fight enough. I like some exercise with my sex. These silk yaxen are so docile, it’s like servicing myself with a corpse.”

The comment elicited a round of laughter, though Bannon found nothing funny about it. Lars, the other Norukai, sneered at him. “Look, it’s the little cheeping bird who complains about the innocent and the weak.”

Bannon tensed, ready to fight. He wished he had brought Sturdy, because he would have decapitated these two in a single sweep. Before Bannon could burst out an angry retort, Amos interjected. “And where’s Melody, my favorite?” he called to the other dull-eyed silk yaxen, who were busy with their customers.

One curly-haired brunette sidled up to Bannon, clinging to him like a kitten seeking affection, and he felt a chill.

“She’s with Captain Kor in a private alcove,” said Yorik. “You can have her when he’s done.”

Lars laughed. “But you might have a long wait. Unlike the people of Ildakar, we Norukai don’t finish so quickly.”

Kor heard his name through the curtain blocking off one of the bedroom alcoves. “Stupid, clumsy whore!” he roared. “Enough, leave me alone.” Bannon heard a slap of flesh against flesh, a scream, then a whimper. The curtains crashed aside, and beautiful Melody, Amos’s favorite, tumbled out and sprawled on the floor. She tried to catch herself, but landed roughly against a table, knocking goblets over. The other customers scattered.

Kor marched out of the privacy alcove, ripping down the hanging curtains. He had left his clothes behind, and he was naked and limp, but didn’t seem to mind being exposed. His body looked like knotted wood, lined with white scars. Melody scrambled away from him on her hands and knees, but the Norukai captain was coming for her.

“Here now, Kor,” Amos said, hesitant.

The Norukai reached down and grabbed Melody by the throat, lifting her up. She bit off a scream and fought, struggling, squirming. “That’s more like it … but not good enough,” Kor said. “Like pleasuring myself with a cow.”

“A yaxen,” Amos said, “but prettier.”

The burly slaver struck Melody across the face, spraying blood from her lips and probably knocking teeth loose.

“Stop that!” Bannon cried, but his shout was drowned out by the roar of cheers and catcalls.

Kor dropped her roughly onto the table, casting her aside. “Waste of money and time.” He ducked back into the alcove, grabbed his garments, and strode naked out of the brothel.

The other two Norukai looked at the docile women they were fondling. Lars slapped his female companion for good measure, before he and Yorik followed their captain out.

Bannon rushed to Melody, bending down next to her. She was shuddering and sobbing. “Are you all right?” He touched her face, which was puffy, covered with blood. She would be a mass of bruises, and her throat was an angry red from Kor’s stranglehold. Her filmy dress was torn. “It’s all right. Nothing more will happen to you.”

She looked up at him, but her eyes were flat, holding no recognition. When she spotted Amos, though, she lit up, slid off the table, and crawled toward him. She let out a wordless moan, begging him to comfort her, but Amos just stood there. He looked down, planted his foot against her shoulder, and kicked her away with a disgusted sound. “Now you’re all bruised! Next time I want you, it better be very dark in here, so I can’t see how ugly you are.”

Jed and Brock looked disappointed. “There are other silk yaxen. We’ll find different ones. Come on, Amos, stay here,” Brock said. “Keeper’s crotch, we don’t want to waste our evening, too.”

Shaking with anger and hatred, Bannon stood. He had Melody’s blood on his hands, and he flexed his fingers, appalled by what he had seen, not just from the disgusting Norukai, but from his supposed friends as well. Bile rose in his throat, and tears stung his eyes. Melody didn’t seem to care.

For years his own father had abused both him and his mother, had stolen the money Bannon had saved so he could escape from Chiriya Island. That man had drowned helpless kittens just to hurt his son, and had beaten Bannon’s mother to death.

Those memories nearly blinded Bannon as he staggered outside past the doorman and lurched into the darkened streets. He had heard tales of the ruthless Emperor Jagang, and Sulachan, and Darken Rahl. In his mind, all abusers were hateful and evil, just to varying degrees.