The Druid Wielder

Chapter 32

"So the rumors were true," I heard the familiarity of her voice from the shadows. She appeared in front of me, though she stayed in the shadows not touched by the light of our fire. I looked up from the dancing flames. Her skin was covered with caked dirt and she seemed a bit slimmer than the last time we spoke. Seems as if neither of us was in the best of shape.

"Seems you managed to slip past even KuRath. It's good to see you alive."

"I'm touched to see that you care about me." I glared at her.

"I do. If you had died I wouldn't have known what to do."

I rolled my eyes at her sarcasm.

"Are you sure you wouldn't be happy if you found me dead?"

If I died I am sure that would be one less problem for her.

She shrugged at me.

Thankfully, she hadn't realized that Kelrith and Palleas were waiting in the other room, or that Bargonaan was right behind her.

Clunk. A quick flick of Bargonaan's hilt brought Beatra to the ground. Bargonaan being the strongest, picked her up like a tankard of mead. Kelrith tied her to the chair and Palleas stripped her of all weapons he could find.

I nodded to Kelrith who held out a small glass bottle under Beatra's nose, containing what he explained as a chemical called Anamoxi, that would immediately wake her. A moan left her lips and her head rolled forward. That was quick. Kelrith sure did know his science.

Beatra looked around groggily. She blinked several times looking from Palleas, to Kelrith, to Bargonaan, and then to me. We watched her try to get up and struggle against the tight ropes. Then she finally realized what had happened.

She chuckled.

"Seems I was set up."

"Seems that way." Palleas smiled. She scowled.

"This doesn't concern you. This business is between myself and Emilea."

"I think it is bigger than that." Kelrith stepped forward.

"Has the King contacted you since the slave trader's camp?" I jumped in. She eyed me and said nothing.

"M'lady asked you a question." Palleas grabbed her chin. "Have you made contact with the King?" She pulled away and spit at him.

"Why you little-"

"Palleas." Bargonaan scolded. Palleas backed down.

"There are ways to make you talk," Kelrith growled.

"Look Beatra, the King came to me. He warned me. He told me to stay away from his son, Prince Andrion." And his master Abernan but I did not feel like going into detail about that. "Why would he warn me? Is he trying to fool me? Is he just messing with my head?"

"Why would I help you? Why do you think I came all this way to find you? It has always been about the mission. Until told otherwise, that isn't going to change. As soon as I get loose, you're mine. You hear me?"

"Unless we kill you first," Palleas said through his teeth.

Kelrith scoffed. He walked over to me.

"We can make her talk. You don't have to put up with this." He pulled out a vial filled with a clear liquid. He had explained earlier about a compound he had bought from a special dealer. It was a highly concentrated dose of distilled druid's mead, which would make her drunk enough to expose even her darkest secrets.

"What makes you think that a little liquid would make my tongue spill. I've been trained to withstand that kind of thing."

"I don't think you understand how powerful this concentration is." Kelrith shook the little bottle.