Beast of Zarall Page 6

Beast noticed he was starving. He sat down next to the fireplace, still within the protective range of incense scent. He leaned his back against the wall and closed his eyes.

  “How about the auctions?”

  Beast’s eyes snapped open. Auctions?

  “Auctions?” repeated Olira.

  “Yeah. You could take him to an auction.”

  Beast’s heart started racing. His stomach twisted.

  Olira sounded doubtful. “It’s not fight season yet. And the sales papers, remember?”

  “I’m talking about the beast auctions at Arkala. I know someone who can get him in without papers. Nobody would question the genuineness of a purebred beast anyway. I mean, you can’t fake that.”

  Beast was now clenching his fists and shaking his head from side to side. Beast auctions...

  Arkala was full of buyers, sellers, and beast trainers who would surely recognize late King Leonis’s Lion of Zarall. The brands on his chest would give him away, if not his face.

  “Arkala?” Olira said, still unsure. “I don’t know. It sounds too far. I can’t leave the boys alone that long.”

  Beast wordlessly cursed at Jygan when the darned tanner said; “It’s only two weeks away. And I can keep an eye on the boys. I mean, Gilann is a grown man now. They’ll be fine.”

  Olira was quiet, which was not a good sign. Beast held his breath, waiting - praying - to hear her reject the idea. As soon as he walked into Arkala, Vogros men would be on him. She might as well gift him to Kastian on a silver plate.

  “There is a merchant convoy staying at Arth’s inn right now,” Jygan said. “If you stay here tonight, you can join them before sunrise. The roads could be dangerous to travel alone.”

  Olira let out an anxious sigh. “I don’t know Jygan. Two weeks there and two weeks back. And how long am I gonna stay there? I can’t be away from the farm for that long. My plants...”

  Beast was nodding frantically. He didn’t quite understand the importance of her plants, but it didn’t matter. As long as they kept her at her farm and away from any auction.

  Beast felt a violent urge to punch him in the face when Jygan spoke again.

  “Olira, you said it yourself. He’s worth a lot. Gilann knows how to tend the plants and even if they die, you can pay off Tholthus’s money and still have enough to last you for years. You can start over or do whatever you want with the farm.”

  The sound of food preparation stopped and the couch creaked when Jygan sat down with Olira. “You don’t have a lot of choice, Olira. You can’t accept Tholthus’s offer.”

  Olira scoffed and remained silent. Jygan was quiet too. He didn’t need to say another word.

  Beast placed his elbows on his knees and buried his head in his arms. Realization was climbing up on his shoulders, making him feel exhausted and small. Jygan was wrong; Olira did have a choice. Free men and women always had choices.

  She had already made hers.

  “Will you take Warrior back to the farm in the morning?”

  “Of course.” Jygan sounded victorious.

  Beast felt sick.

  Twenty minutes later when Olira brought him a plate, Beast was still sitting with his head in his arms. Olira thought he was sleeping. She put the plate down quietly and walked back into Jygan’s living quarters on her toes.

  Beast rarely rejected food. Although he had no appetite, he forced himself to eat the cold meat and cheese sandwich. It tasted like dry sand in his mouth. The incense was losing its strength, but Beast’s sense of smell had retired as well. He breathed the foul smell of the tannery and did not screw up his face.

  When Jygan came back to his work, the first thing he did was to add more incense to the boiling water. He stood over the wooden beam and continued scraping the hair off the pelt.

  Beast could hear Olira washing the plates at the back room. He closed his eyes and listened to the steady sound of blade sliding on hard animal skin. Jygan’s tools were displayed on a nearby bench. Images played in the dark inside Beast’s mind, where he killed Jygan using each of those tools over and over again.

  After finishing with the dishes, Olira took Beast outside to help her. They took Warrior to the barn at the back and unsaddled him. They worked in silence. Beast piled the bags of grain and salt on a corner while Olira quickly brushed Warrior and lead him into the stall next to Jygan’s horse.

  Beast took his blanket from the pile and started preparing his bed in an empty stall.

  “No,” said Olira. “It smells so bad in here. You can sleep inside tonight.”

  “As you wish, Owner,” Beast mumbled.

  He followed her into Jygan’s living quarters, where the air smelled old but not foul. She made a bed for him on the floor near the fireplace, then kept herself busy by tidying up and cooking dinner.

  Jygan finished his work early and helped her. They talked and laughed about things that had no significance and worked close to each other. Beast had never seen Olira without a scowl, and he was surprised at how she didn’t seem to be bothered by the tanner’s awful smell. The spark in her eyes reminded him of Saradra.

  Hate boiled out of his soul and he resented Jygan more for having something he had lost.

  After dinner, Jygan gave his bedroom to Olira and opted out to sleep on the couch, despite Olira’s objections. The tanner fed the fireplace with enough wood to last until morning and curled under the blankets on the couch. Beast watched him fall asleep. He listened to the sound of Jygan’s steady breathing and wished it would stop.

  Beast couldn’t sleep for hours. When he finally lost interest in fantasizing colourful variations of Jygan’s death, he was faced with the fact that they were heading to Arkala the next morning.

  Twilight of Infinity, Saradra’s words rang in his mind.

  He remembered the night he’d told her about the tournament where the winning beast was given his freedom, while the winner’s Owner was compensated by thousands in Chinderia Blues. He remembered the spark in Saradra’s eyes. She wanted for them to have their freedom.

  She was free in Farhome now. And Beast had his mind set on his freedom too.

  He was not ready to surrender his goal yet. He was going to get to Euroad, fight on the grey sands of Scythe Arena, and win Twilight of Infinity.

  He laid on his side, facing away from the fireplace. With his eyes closed, he summoned his imagination again. Instead of dreaming violent fantasies, this time he forced himself to see how he could talk to Olira. How he could change her mind, make her understand.

  He chose the words he was going to use and the information that would help him. He knew how desperate Olira was for money and she could earn a lot more from Twilight of Infinity then from selling him at the auctions.

  All free men and women were greedy after all. Beast just had to remember this.

  *

  He opened his eyes to a long, dim hallway with rough stone walls. It reminded him of the hallways under the Switchblade Arena, but the walls were carved by less delicate hands. The air smelt old and the ground under his feet was hard rock covered in a thin layer of dirt.

  He turned his head down and looked at his feet. He was wearing shoes made of uncured hide, freshly skinned from an animal. It was not exposed to any treatment Jygan did in his tannery. He could still feel the blood and gore between his toes. He gagged. Almost stumbling on the floor, he pulled the hide off his feet and threw them away.

  As he sat there, his breathing started picking up. He was having a nightmare, he knew that much, yet everything felt so real.

  Of course, the nightmares would be back. Olira hadn’t given him any purple tea tonight, which had helped keeping the nightmares at bay during the weeks Beast had spent at the farm.

  He pinched himself, only to be convinced this was real enough to feel the pain. He closed his eyes, willing himself to wake up back at Jygan’s house.

  Jygan’s house… Where he would head out to Arkala the next morning. Where he would be sold at beast auctions. Where he would b
e recognized and taken to King Kastian, or straight to White Tower.

  He realized he wasn’t looking forward to waking up to all that. With a resigned sigh, he opened his eyes.

  The hallway ended in a pile of rocks behind him, but continued ahead. It had to lead somewhere. He stood up and followed it. His feet, still covered in animal blood, left red footprints behind him.

  The hallway was illuminated by torches on the walls, placed far apart. The last of them hung where the passage started curving left. Beast couldn’t see anything in the darkness ahead. He took the last torch off the wall and continued walking.

  He found the necklace on the floor after walking for what felt like an hour. Despite only seeing it once, he recognized it immediately.

  The long, sharp animal tooth was the size of his hand. It was attached to a black leather string. Nothing about the necklace implied it was anything special, except the size of the dirty-grey animal tooth which was too large to belong to any animal Beast had ever seen.

  He looked around, despite knowing he was alone in this hallway. He picked up the necklace and held it in front of his face.

  The memory of the mage stabbing him on his chest flashed in front of his eyes. He felt the knife in his heart and felt the mage’s fingers digging under his flesh.

  He shook his head to dispel the unwanted images. That memory was just another nightmare. He’d imagined it. It wasn’t real.

  He made to throw away the necklace, but an urge stopped him. The animal tooth gleamed under the light of his torch. Beast tried and failed to take his eyes off it. He didn’t want to let it go.

  Holding his breath, he pulled the string over his head and let the necklace drop on his chest. It rested firmly over his heart and it felt heavier than it looked. Beast liked the weight of it. He found it… assuring.

  Beast pressed a hand over the necklace, and caressed it with his thumb. He continued his walk along the hallway. His steps were light and confident. He looked forward to find out what lay at the end of this hallway. He didn’t have to wait for long.

  The hallway lead to a large cave. The light of Beast’s torch painted flickering shadows on the stone walls on each side. The floor was flooded in black water, still as glass. He could see the soft blue of the daylight at the far end, right across from him. He was almost out.

  He carefully stepped into the water. It was cold, freezing against his bare feet. The water was only up to his ankles. He couldn’t see the bottom, but it felt soft and muddy. Icy water washed the animal blood and dirt off his feet as he walked towards the exit.

  A loud rumble echoed behind him. Rocks fell from the ceiling and closed the entrance back to the hallway. There was no going back now. It didn’t matter; the exit was right there. Beast continued walking, eager to get out.

  The cage appeared when he was halfway through the flooded cave.

  It was large enough to stand up inside it, and wide enough to stretch his arms to the sides. It had silver bars that gleamed maliciously under the flickering light of his torch. A dirty-grey padlock hung at the door of the cage. It stood between him and the entrance, blocking his way.

  Beast grasped at his necklace protectively as he took a step back, feeling all his blood turning cold.

  The cage… The cage filled his heart with fear. Beast held on to the reassuring weight of the necklace.

  Somehow, the silver bars kept the light of his torch outside. All Beast could see behind the bars was a pure darkness. He felt a presence moving in that darkness. He heard heavy breathing and the faint clanking of chains.

  The darkness inside the cage was blocking the sunlight of the entrance and despite the light of the torch, the room felt darker and colder.

  “Slave,” the presence inside the cage hissed. The voice was gravelly and it made Beast’s hair stand up on the back of his neck. He swallowed and took another step back.

  That’s when the attack started.

  Beast saw the moving shadows and the molten eyes of the demon hounds, running by the walls and circling him. There were dozens. He’d seen one before; on the night of the coup, by the mage’s side. Only these seemed bigger and angrier. Their growls and howls echoed off the stone ceiling as they ran through the water.

  The thing inside the cage took a loud breath and roared. The black water rippled with the force of the sound. Beast felt an invisible blow pushing him backwards.

  The hounds lunged at him with furious growls. Their claws splashed against the water. Beast expected their teeth on his skin, ripping his limbs apart.

  He knew he was not getting away from this. He let his purebred training take over and did what he was conditioned to do; he surrendered.

  Part of him wanted to go down fighting, but his body still remembered Astaldo’s brutal teachings too well. He let go of the torch and dropped on his knees.

  Flames went out in the water with a hiss. Shadows of the demon hounds became impossible to pick out. Freezing water stole his breath as he sat in it on his knees. He placed his hands on his lap and raised his chin up, revealing his slave tattoo. It was hard not to close his eyes, but he kept them open.

  “Slave!” The being inside the cage hissed underneath the roar. “Open the cage. Now!”

  The noise went higher. Angry howls of the demon hounds scratched at Beast’s ears. He felt the urge to cover them with his hands, but resisted. He was still waiting to feel the first strike; his skin was itching with anticipation. He didn’t move.

  “Open the cage, or I will rip you apart limb by limb!”

  Beast scowled. Seconds were passing, but no sharp tooth touched his skin. The roar became deafening. The water rose and fell like one of those stormy seas the story tellers used to describe in the evenings at King Leonis’s feast hall.

  Beast blinked at the darkness inside the cage. He glanced around and saw the shadows of the fiery demon hounds; he heard their growls, but nothing came out to rip him apart limb by limb.

  The noise went on as Beast stared into the cage. Then, it ceased as sudden as it started.

  “Slave,” the thing inside the cage hissed in the silence. “You will open the cage.” It sounded tired.

  Beast stood up. The water was still now and the shadows of the hounds had disappeared. Beast’s heart was racing faster than before. His mouth was half open and he felt like laughing. He touched the necklace to find reassurance he’d lost a moment ago.

  “You,” Beast said, gingerly. “You can’t touch me.”

  The presence inside the cage exhaled loudly. The silver light of the bars dimmed down and for a split second, revealed what was imprisoned inside.

  Beast had been stabbed before. What he felt was similar; except the knife was made out of images and knowledge, and its target was his mind. The thing inside the cage - Beast now knew what it really was - assaulted him with images. It forced knowledge into the slave’s mind; knowledge about gruesome deeds, hideous events. Things he’d rather not know.

  Its name…

  Beast screamed, took a hasty step back, tripped, and fell. The icy water wrapped his body. The muddy ground disappeared, and Beast sank deeper and deeper. He tried to scream, but water filled in his mouth and muffled his voice. His eyes were burning with the image of the thing he saw inside the cage.

  He woke up screaming and thrashing.

  7

  OLIRA

  Olira knew she made a mistake by letting him sleep inside. She knew she should have made him sleep in the barn as usual, but it just smelled so awful, she felt sorry for the slave.

  Now, she was paying for her compassion.

  Screams and the sounds of struggle confirmed her greatest fear was coming true; the beast was killing Jygan!

  She jumped out of the bed. She didn’t bother dressing up and ran barefoot to the bedroom door. Her mind went blank with fear and she forgot the slave’s Words. For a terrifying second, she thought she wouldn’t remember them in time. She would have to watch helplessly as the purebred beast killed Jygan.

&
nbsp; As soon as she opened the door and stepped into Jygan’s living room, the slave’s Pain Word came back to her.

  “Prihj...” she started without thinking, but didn’t finish.

  Jygan was on the couch, and the beast was by the fireplace. She didn’t know the cause of the commotion yet, but Jygan was safe.

  She snapped her lips shut and swallowed the rest of the word, remembering what that word did to him the last time.

  “It’s okay! It’s okay!” Jygan was saying, but it wasn’t clear whom he was saying it to. His eyes were still half closed and he was trying to catch up with what was happening.

  The slave was sitting up on the bed Olira had made for him. He was panting and screaming in horror, thrashing to get out of the blanket. His eyes flew open when he heard what Olira was about to say. He buried his fist in his mouth to muffle his screams and went facedown with his forehead on the floor. He willed himself to snap out of it, to be quiet, but Olira could see him still shaking and sweating.

  “It’s okay,” Jygan repeated one more time. His eyes focused on the slave. “He... Poor thing, he just had a nightmare.”

  “Are you okay?” Olira asked him.

  “Yeah. Yeah I’m alright.” Jygan turned to her, and blushed.

  Remembering she was wearing nothing but her undergarment, Olira felt blood rushing at her cheeks too. She tried to cover herself with her arms as Jygan averted his eyes respectfully. She ran back inside to get dressed, cursing at the slave for the embarrassment he caused.

  When Olira came back outside, dressed decently and carrying her boots in one hand, Jygan was filling a cup of water from a clay pot at the kitchen counter. He drank the first cup himself and refilled it again.

  Beast was still crouching on his knees, his forehead touching the cold wood, breathing heavily. Jygan kneeled beside him with the cup, moving slowly as if approaching an injured animal. “There, pal. Have some water,” he said politely.

  The slave sat up. His face was flat and lifeless as it usually was, but Olira would never forget the panic she saw there just a few minutes ago. It made her scowl.

  Everyone said purebreds felt nothing, but the slave seemed genuinely terrified before. He took the cup from Jygan and drank it all. His chest was still rising and falling rapidly.