The City Under the Ice by Barbara Bretana - HTML preview

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Chapter 37

He flew the birds and pushed them further and faster than I thought possible. The distance from the city under the ice to Ehrenberg was normally a two-month journey by schooner and had never been attempted by condorlas pilots. In fact, condorlas had never been seen this side of the Border wall and were sure to cause riots and unparalleled fear to those below us in the Newlands. Yet, Blackfin strove for an even greater feat – he planned to fly the birds across the Great Sea directly to Ehrenberg’s capital. Stopping only once and that was at the port city of Albans to provision what little he needed and to acquaint himself with the lax governorship of the East Coast.

The birds were exhausted by the time they set down at the stable block of the governor’s mansion. We were immediately surrounded by Imperial Dragoons and held under both rifle and cross bolts until Blackfin ordered the men to stand down.

Their eyes were wide as they saw the birds and the Faet warriors. They stared at the Klese pilot, never having seen one of the Elassai this close. The wizard did not explain himself but only ordered the Dragoons to allow the Klese to put up and care for the birds and then show them to barracks so they could rest.

He took possession of my stiff body and had them drag me to the mansion where we were greeted by the head of staff. He made the wizard welcome. In short order, Blackfin was bathed, dressed for bed and comfortably ensconced in a sumptuous bedroom waiting on a feast. I was sitting in a corner near the double doors and chained to an iron bolt that was magically secured to the fire pigs.

No one fed me or left me water and I was still in my filthy coveralls from the city. I forced myself awake, it was not safe to fall asleep while he was still aware lest he need me and I not respond.

When he was done eating, he threw me a few bones and I held them in my hands until he told me I could eat. The meat was gristly but I cracked the bone sucking out the marrow and found more of the blood taste I craved was inside the soft white centers. He drank a whole bottle of wine while I watched with parched lips.

“Are you hungry and thirsty, Tobias?” He asked softly and cruelly.

“Yes, master.”

“Good. You will wash my feet with your tongue.” I cringed but slowly crawled over to where he sat and picked up his foot. He kicked me in the face and ordered me to lick his arches while they rested on the floor. I bent my face down and obeyed until my mouth was so dry that I had no saliva left. Then, he pissed on the floor and told me to lap it dry, watching with fevered eyes and solemn patience as I did so. Finally, he kicked me until I curled up in a ball trying to protect my stomach and head.

He tired of this game when my blood stained the planks of the wooden floor and his feet were swollen from contact with my bones. “What a sorry shit you are,” he mocked. “No spine, no courage left. Go sulk in the corner.”

“I am as you made me, master!” I cried out but my reply incensed him so that he picked up the wine bottle and beat me with it. Scuttling back, weeping, I crawled into the corner and nearly into the back of the fireplace trying to escape from his insanely powerful blows. He tried to kill me and stopped only when he broke the bottle and stabbed me in the chest with the ends. I collapsed at his feet with blood splattered over him, the rooms and the walls. Lying at his feet, I could see the white of bone and almost see my heart beating in my chest. He stood over me heaving for breath before he cursed and fled the room leaving me alone with the tray of food, weapons and his magic books.

He did not come back that night and I spent it in misery. Feverish, parched and in pain from bruised muscles and bones. The floor was hard and I had nothing to cushion my backbones or hips. I watched the fire flicker and die on the walls, watched the sun come up through the long windows and through the fluttering curtains. I heard the crowing of roosters and the sharp bugling of the soldiers as they played reveille from the parade grounds.

It wasn’t Blackfin that opened the door but the Governor General. He knelt at my side and pulled my hands away from my face, ran his hands over those areas that hurt the worst. “Tobias,” he said. “Can you sit up?” I tried and with his help, was able to make it to my knees. I saw his face and recognized him; a childhood friend of my father’s who had visited the farm in the early years.

“Don’t help me,” I said in a groan. “If you help me, I can only betray you. The Wizard Blackfin owns my soul and suborns my will.”

“Tobias, you know you can’t go to the Court, Gleneden will use you and throw you away.”

“I know it. My life ended when Lyr Averon cursed me,” I said sadly. I turned my head away from his concerned face until he tugged me up onto my feet and held me while I stabilized.

“The wizard left me instructions on your feedings.”

“He told you how to feed me? You know I drink blood?”

“Yes.” He half-carried me to the end of the chain’s reach and sat me in the chair last used by Blackfin. He had a bottle in his pocket that he pulled out and with a flourish set it in front of me, saying the wizard had left food for the next day or so depending on how long it took him to finish his errand. I did not ask what those errands were.

I opened the container and struggled with the chains. He made a face and apologized, saying he did not have the keys to remove them. I nodded, smelled the contents; it was nothing more than animal blood and no more than a single serving, one meal’s worth. Once I was done, I went back to the corner and waited for the wizard’s return. He said nothing but shook his head and left the room.