The High King's Embalmer

Chapter 4, part one

Fog and the crisp temperature of dusk provided a welcome relief from the embers simmering in my tainted blood. The cool air helped allay the sluggish fatigue. I blinked away the gritty feeling of sleep from my eyes. The constant pounding never ceased. Each cell screamed out to soothe the heat from the tranquilizer. The urge to massage my arms, to rub away the torment plagued me. I struggled to find a comfortable position, but could not. My arms were trussed behind my back, secured with a thin rope that squeezed against the bands on my wrists, and wrapped multiple times around my lower arms nearly to my elbows. I had been secured many times; in many positions over my long lifetime, and knew well the work of an experienced bounty hunter.

My senses cleared enough to differentiate the minute differences of the searing meat that tickled my nostrils. I struggled to sit up and leaned against a thick, rough-barked tree so I might escape the smoke.

Two men slouched over a dwindling campfire, burning something that may have been dinner. I never understood why humans insisted on blackening their meat. It tasted much better raw.

"He's awake, Prescott. Good to know he can get tuckered out like the rest of us." His toothy grin flashed as he nudged his companion on the shoulder.

"I'm surprised. Townsend, we gave that thing enough to floor a bull elephant for a week. It should've slept longer."

"Is he sick? Doesn't he look...pale?"

"Who cares."

It? Thing? I was not an 'it,' nor a 'thing.'

"Glad the tranq worked as long as it did," the one called Townsend said.

The one more rugged, grizzled and grimy than the other filled his plate with something that resembled swamp water with lumps.

The wind shifted and blew smoke at me. Each breath for clear air became a struggle. I rested my forehead against my knees as I wiggled my wrists, feeling for any signs of slack. There was none. I slumped back against the tree, defeated.

"Dare you to try to get away." Prescott kept a watchful eye on me and handed Townsend a plate of sizzling, blackened meat and beans. As he returned to his place near the fire, his knees creaked and popped.

"Ya know Townsend, its kind ain't nothing but a menace to our society and hell to keep in line."

"He's worth a lot, though." Townsend, with his thick beard and tousled hair, added a half-opened tin can to the fire.

"Someone should've taken care of the problem when its kind landed here so many dynasties ago," Prescott said. "Too many of 'em now. Can you believe they breed these things?"

"On Ithomorca for the fighter market, yeah. Heard they use 'em for cancer prevention. Or, just keep them around, to have them." Townsend poked at the fire beneath the steaming can.

Where had he received his information? During running errands for my masters over the years I hadn't come across as many ouHor Kem as these hunters believed existed. My mind would have been crowded with the many voices. Cancer prevention? Total nonsense.

"Suppose you're thirsty?" Townsend asked me.

Without waiting for a reply, and I would not have given him one, he poured water into a cup and brought it to my mouth. I turned my face away from the warm, stale water. Temptation burned in my stomach to tear into his flesh and eat the thing I craved the most—his heart. Each beat rang loud in my hears. Maybe it would calm the affects from the tranquilizer.

Townsend didn't get that close, much to my dismay. I again tested the ropes securing me so firmly. I gave up trying to shift positions when the ropes bit deeper into my arms and wrists.