Bellatrix: Swords of Chaos, Book One

CHAPTER 28

  Hamilcar had been drugged heavily and knew it.He was now a prisoner of the Zmarly. They had arrived the previous day at a strange looking city, if that’s what it could be called. The place was built on the side of the cliffs. Small round entryways led into darker, cooler passages and homes.Ladders and stairs were the only way to the upper levels where it appeared the more affluent of the Zmarly lived. A huge dolman sat in the middle of the place.He could not take in much more in his present state.

  The trip had taken almost four days of daily burning and nightly watering.His skin was burned and blistered.The top of his head and shoulders were too sensitive to touch.His nose felt like someone had lit a fire on it and his lips were so dry and cracked they bled when he spoke.He had already suffered many strange visions and hallucinations, he could not determine if they engendered from the drugs or the sun.

  On the day of their arrival, Hamilcar was introduced to Az Zahir, the Deem. Apparently he was some sort of leader.

  Az Zahir was a huge man, Hamilcar was tall but his head only came up to Az Zahir’s chest. The Deem’s entire person was to be reckoned with, from his rock hard eyes to the rippling muscles covering his entire frame. His scalp was bald except for the coal black topknot of hair flowing to the middle of his back.He had a white scar on his forehead above his right eye, a token he looked proud of.He wore no tunic, but only dust covered breeches.A huge golden disk hung around his neck, apparently the official seal of his office.He was the perfect human form in a giant’s frame.Hamilcar understood why the man was the Deem: In battle, Az Zahir must be unstoppable.

  Az Zahir had spoken to Hutch and Hamilcar only briefly before dismissing them.Hamilcar was incoherent, so the talk was mostly unintelligible gibberish. The next morning they were bathed and a mild ointment was roughly applied to their burns.Hutch did not cry out, but Hamilcar could see the pain on his face.The entire day they stayed in the shade. Apparently the Zmarly didn’t want them to die from the exposure. They were in a makeshift tent that blocked any useful view.

  Throughout the day he heard the guttural hatchet-speak of the Zmarly.Routinely someone would poke his head in the tent to check up on the two prisoners.The two men had been tied down to a post as usual, so Hamilcar was uncertain why he kept checking.

  Hutch was floating in and out of consciousness and Hamilcar wished to join him but could not. The constant aching in his stomach reminded him that he had not eaten in almost five days.The churning would grow so great at times that he would almost retch.His mind swam about the tent, relishing the coolness.He realized that it was not really cool in the tent, but in comparison to outside it was the middle of winter.Was this how the Zmarly had become acclimated to the heat?Who cared?

  The coolness did not last.Nary a breeze visited the tent, and the stink of the two men was becoming almost too much for him to bear, causing his stomach to begin its churning routine again. In hunger or in revulsion, he could not determine. He thought of the Sword. He thought of his woman. He thought of impossible escape.

  The night finally relieved the beaten land from the heat like a master relieving a slave and Hamilcar was certain he could not go on.He had steel in him. His mind knew this. But on the surface he’d given up.His resolve had worn out and he was vanquished.

  He was dragged roughly out of the tent along with Hutch.They were given a soup of some sort, more like a broth with no substance but it was some something.Hamilcar hungrily sucked it down. The effects of the drug needled into him almost immediately.He was barely in control of his functions and the world became a much more vivid place.Colors blended and stood out. Sounds seemed to wash in and out of his ears like a river.He was at peace and did not care about anything.

  Time had little meaning to a man in his state.Az Zahir appeared in the middle of the ring (was it a ring?) and began to speak in his native tongue. The words flowed out like hatchets beating vigorously at stones.But it was nice.He smiled often at the huge Deem and was certain the Deem smiled back.

  He was then dragged back to his tent and tied to his stake once more.Hutch was next to him, sleeping the sleep of the dead.His coarse breath rattled in and out of his dirt-filled nose.A scorpion crawled up to Hutch. Hamilcar was certain the little beast was going to sting the man, but it did not. In a few moments, it was gone.

  Hamilcar was thinking about his dog Puck, he had once had when he felt some strange movements in his pants.He stayed perfectly still until he could determine what it was, and then realized it was the loqua stone his partner had given him. He considered rolling over and trying to retrieve it, but the thought collapsed into a fragrant bed of flowers where he fell asleep.

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