"So quiet, all of you!" he said, shaking his head when no one offered up a story of their own. "Are you dreaming, boy?" he asked Isao, who had been staring at the ground in deep concentration for several minutes. "You have been living in the clouds of your mind for a while."
Isao frowned, the dark shadows of his eyes lined with something like grief. Celty wanted to snap at Ranbelt to shut up, but then he eyed Khalem, and she kept quiet. What would he saw about the towering general? She couldn’t deny herself the opportunity to satisfy her curiosity.
"And you?" Ranbelt said. "So serious! The unsmiling man, I believe I shall call you. Have you never faced death before? She's a fickle mistress, you know. Keep that in mind."
Khalem scowled, his nostrils flaring.
"Instead of making jokes about people you know nothing about," Celty said, "how about you tell us whether we're about to be eaten by these people? Your entertainment is rather biting, notwithstanding."
Ranbelt's smile broadened. A chuckle welled up from deep in his chest, and he tried to push it back down, after darting a quick glance at the nearby guards. His laughter bubbled up anyway, overtaking him. "Cannibals?" he rasped, still chuckling. "Unh unh! Those aren't cannibals."
Isao frowned. "But …the skulls! And the rumors!"
"Rumors are just that: rumors. These people are not cannibals." His voice dropped to a whisper. "These are savage people, for sure. You can't live in the mountains and be entirely civilized. But they first started farther away. They call themselves the Asanka Tribe. They lived in a small forest close to the imperial capital of An Wan."
"The Bataq Grove?" Khalem asked.
Ranbelt nodded once. "The very one. They were always a peaceful people, but were treated…like monkeys by the other people there. One day, Betega, an explorer for a guild of hunters, found a silver mine inside their forest. Easy money, right? Betega and some of his people chased the Asanka Tribe off their own land in order to get to the silver."
"Did some of them die?" Celty asked.
"Of course. The couple that resisted, anyway. The others were beaten, harassed, raped, tortured – that kind of thing. The Asanka had to leave their own land in order to keep themselves alive." He leaned back against the wooden walls. "So they wandered the countryside for a while, then finally reached this mountain. After exploring and climbing, they found this complex cave system."
“And how do you know everything?” Celty asked with a cool gaze.
“Travelers can learn all sorts of information.” His eye cut right through her annoyance. “If they learn how to listen, that is.”
"Oh," she murmured quietly.
"That's not all," Ranbelt said with a grin. "Once they found this cave complex, they met their guide."
"Guide?" Isao asked.
"A mysterious Chief who wore a white mask."
"And then what?"
Ranbelt shrugged. "Dunno. That's the last I know about their history."
His sudden lack of information led Celty to become suspicious. Something lingered in this man’s eyes. He knew far more than he was telling them, and not even his easy nonchalance could hide that.
"Then how did you know about the masked Chief?" she snapped.
Ranbelt tipped his head back toward the caves. "Just met the Chief."
"What?" she breathed.
"Yes. They brought me before their leader. I talked, and then I was – " he paused, glancing at all of them. Then he lunged forward and said, “ – sentenced to death!"
Celty and Isao both reared back; Khalem scowled. Ranbelt laughed again, although this time it reminded Celty of a choking bird.
"Do you care?" Isao asked, a relaxed and easy expression on his face. "For a man sentenced to death by a wild clan of mountain tribesmen, you seem quite unperturbed."
Celty couldn't help but agree. Hundreds of suspicions ran through her mind, but she quelled them. A wild mind was an uncontrollable thing.
"Well . . . maybe it's all true," Ranbelt drawled, his eyes sparkling, "and maybe it isn't."
Khalem scowled and looked away. Isao rolled his eyes. Only Celty studied the minstrel more, convinced he knew something.
His act had to be some kind of show. A facade. No one so foolish could know the tribal language, or the tribe’s history, to that depth. And the emotion of fear hid behind all kinds of expressions.
"You're mad, aren't you?" Khalem asked in a strangely calm way. "A little…unhinged."
Ranbelt only laughed harder.
"Leave it alone, Khalem," Isao said. "It's not – "
The tinkle of something that sounded like bones rattling together interrupted them. Moments later one of the guards moved out of the walkway. Out of the darkness of the cave strode in another figure clad in the same kind of freakish mask. The newcomer simply stood there, studying the prisoners for a moment before nodding at the guards.
The guards stepped up to the cage, barked out some commands in their strange language, and then pulled Khalem, Isao, and Celty out. They slammed the door shut on Ranbelt, who waved at them with a bright smile on his face.
Celty cast one last look at him, annoyed by his cheerful expression and stupid whistling, as they were taken back into the darkness of the caves.
A little relief settled in her stomach. At least these people weren’t cannibals – although that didn't mean they were out of danger yet. These savage people clearly had reason for hard feelings against anyone who hailed from the Imperial City, or anywhere near it. They'd be lucky to escape alive at this rate, especially if they knew who Isao and Khalem were.
For once, being an unknown slave had its perks.
Celty longed to kick at her captors as they were herded them down a new passageway, but refrained out of sheer survival instinct. Khalem and Isao stumbled along just ahead of her, their concern visible every time they looked over their shoulders, no doubt to make sure all three of them were still together.
A creeping, dark feeling extinguished the feeling of relief in her stomach.
She didn't like this one bit. Where were they being taken?
Several minutes later, they stumbled to a stop in front of another sprawling cave system. Thick furs – clearly animal furs this time – covered most of the space, hanging in ragged curtains near the rock floor.
One of the guards pushed aside a portion of the curtains, revealing a sprawling space in the granite rock. Torches flickered along the very edges of the space, filling the area with light and warmth.
At the far end sat a stone throne. It glittered due to reflecting gemstones in its rock. A fur carpet formed a pathway to the edge of the throne platform. Tribesmen were kneeling on either side of the carpet, facing the throne.
A lean figure wrapped in black fur sat on the great chair. The figure wore a stark white mask with a demonic face – one infinitely more grotesque than any Celty had seen so far. A long nose straightened out from it, giving way to a leering smile and squinting eyes.
Two burly men with heavy wooden clubs flanked the figure on either side and pointed at the ground. The guards beside Celty shoved her to her knees. She winced, barely able to stomach the resulting impact on the hard rock.
The tribesmen and the guards chanted the strange refrains from earlier: the guttural sounds filled with intermittent clicking. Celty could recognize the strange sort of sing-song in it now, filtering the word Mukh from in between chants.
Mukh.
The word made her shift uncomfortably. That was the name of their leader, no doubt. The Chief of this untamed race. Or perhaps even their heathen god.
A grating noise broke through the cave, silencing the chants. Celty's neck prickled when she heard Saman words coming from the figure. "You have come into my kingdom."
Khalem and Isao stiffened. Celty glanced into the horrid eyes of that terrible mask.
The grating voice continued, "We do not welcome outsiders. We do not welcome strangers. You are trespassing on our holy land and we cannot allow it. Tell me who you are."
Khalem straightened slightly. "We are but travelers."
"That is not enough. Your names."