There was a creaking of floorboards, and Pug came instantly awake His slave-bred wariness told him that the sound didn’t belong in the hut during the dead of night.
Through the gloom, footfalls could be heard coming closer, then they stopped at the foot of his pallet. From the next pallet, he could hear Laurie’s sharp intake of breath, and he knew the minstrel was awake also. Probably half the slaves had been awakened by the intruder. The stranger hesitated over something, and Pug waited, tense with uncertainty. There was a grunt, and without hesitation Pug rolled off his mat. A weight came crashing down, and Pug could hear a dull thud as a dagger struck where his chest had been only moments before. Suddenly the room exploded with activity. Slaves were shouting and could be heard running for the door.
Pug felt hands reach for him in the dark, and a sharp pain exploded across his chest. He reached blindly for his assailant and grappled with him for the blade. Another slash, and his right hand was cut across the palm. Abruptly the attacker stopped moving, and Pug became aware that a third body was atop the would-be assassin.
Soldiers rushed into the hut, carrying lanterns, and Pug could see Laurie lying across the still body of Nogamu. The Bear was still breathing, but from the way the dagger protruded from his ribs, not for long.
The young soldier who had saved Pug’s and Laurie’s lives entered, and the others made way for him. He stood over the three combatants and simply asked, “Is he dead?”
The overseer’s eyes opened, and in a faint whisper he said, “I live, lord. But I die by the blade.” A weak but defiant smile showed on his sweat-drenched face.
The young soldier’s expression betrayed no emotion, but his eyes looked as if ablaze. “I think not,” he said softly. He turned to two of the soldiers in the room “Take him outside at once and hang him. There will be no honors for his clan to sing. Leave the body there for the insects. It shall be a warning that I am not to be disobeyed. Go.”
The dying man’s face paled, and his lips quivered. “No, master. I pray, leave me to die by the blade. A few minutes longer.” Bloody foam appeared at the corner of his mouth.
Two husky soldiers reached down for Nogamu and, with little thought for his pain, dragged him outside. He could be heard wailing the entire way. The amount of strength left in his voice was amazing, as if his fear of the rope had awakened some deep reserve.
They stood in frozen tableau until the sound was cut off in a strangled cry. The young officer then turned to Pug and Laurie. Pug sat, blood running from a long, shallow gash across his chest. He held his injured hand in the other. It was deeply cut, and his fingers wouldn’t move.
“Bring your wounded friend,” the young soldier commanded Laurie.
Laurie helped Pug to his feet, and they followed the officer out of the slave hut. He led them across the compound to his own quarters and ordered them to enter. Once inside, he instructed a guard to send for the camp physician. He had them stand in silence until the physician arrived. He was an old Tsurani, dressed in the robes of one of their gods —which one the Midkemians couldn’t tell. He inspected Pug’s wounds and judged the chest wound superficial. The hand, he said, would be another matter.
“The cut is deep, and the muscles and tendons have been cut. It will heal, but there will be a loss of movement and little strength for gripping. He most likely will be fit for only light duty.”
The soldier nodded, a peculiar expression on his face: a mixture of disgust and impatience. “Very well. Dress the wounds and leave us.”
The physician set about cleaning the wounds. He took a score of stitches in the hand, bandaged it, admonished Pug to keep it clean, and left. Pug ignored the pain, easing his mind with an old mental exercise.
After the physician was gone, the soldier studied the two slaves before him “By law, I should have you hanged for killing the slave master.”
They said nothing. They would remain silent until commanded to speak.
“But as I hanged the slave master, I am free to keep you alive, should it suit my purpose I can simply have you punished for wounding him.” He paused. “Consider yourselves punished.”
With a wave of his hand he said, “Leave me, but return here at daybreak I have to decide what to do with you.”
They left, feeling fortunate, for under most circumstances they would now be hanging next to the former slave master. As they crossed the compound, Laurie said, “I wonder what that was about.”
Pug responded, “I hurt too much to wonder why. I’m just thankful that we will see tomorrow.”
Laurie said nothing until they reached the slave hut. “I think the young lord has something up his sleeve.”