And his sex life had never been so rich and varied. In a city full of hungry strangers, it was breathtakingly easy to entice peasant girls-and even the occasional destitute noblewoman-to a certain rat-infested cellar hidden under a wrecked building, there to be tortured, raped and eventually killed. In the constant danger of life in Vawnpolis, no one with a grain of sense investigated nighttime screams of unknown origin, and Danos was careful to dump the mutilated bodies far from his hideaway and not in the same area twice, depending on the starving hordes of rats and packs of dogs to effectively camouflage the traces of his gruesome pleasure. It was all he could do to restrain his mirth when a comrade-in-arms told him the grim tale of a woman of his acquaintance who had apparently been torn to bits by the ravening curs; Danos had wondered briefly to which of his victims the man had referred.
Drehkos Daiviz reined up before a heavy gate set in high sandstone walls. A man of his strong escort toed forward and pounded his brass whip pommel on one of the iron-studded portals until a small panel opened behind a grid of bars.
“I am Ahthelfahs Mahrios,” growled the bearded warder in an archaic dialect. “What is it you want?”
“A word with your eeloheemehnos, monk!” snapped Drehkos impatiently. “And quickly, mind you. You may tell him his visitor is Vahrohneeskos Drehkos.”
Now old Drehkos in all probability would have waited the quarter-hour the gate warder was gone, then shrugged and gone on his way. But this Drehkos, radically forged by stress and circumstances, was of a stronger metal.
Turning to Danos, he snapped, “Sergeant, order the ram up; that bastard’s been gone long enough!”
At Danos’ shouted order, a double file of riders trotted forward, a massive, iron-beaked timber slung by thick cables from their horses’ triple-weight harnesses. With the projecting beak a few handspans from the gate, the riders dismounted and, with the expertise of much recent practice, took hold of spikes driven into the beam, essayed a few short swings to build momentum, then sent the ram crashing against the center of the monastery gate with a sound almost deafening in the narrow street. At once, a chorus of panic-stricken shouts erupted from behind the high walls, at least one of them loudly promising eternal damnation to all without should one more blow be struck. But at a nod from Drehkos, the men swung again, and again and again and yet again. On the third blow, the point of impact splintered and with a whine of tortured metal, the great iron lock bolt snapped. The fourth buffet tore out the hinges and the gate groaned and sagged, now supported only by its bar, which resoundingly parted at the fifth impact. The rammers drew their horses aside so that Drehkos and most of his force might ride through the archway, hooves booming hollowly on the shattered portal. And even as the vahrohneeskos and his men entered the courtyard, several large oxdrawn wains queued up behind them.
The burly, white-bearded abbot strode forward, his black eyes flashing, rage afflicting his deep voice with a tremolo. “You Morguhn barbarian! You’ll be made to pay for that gate, sure as my . . . my . . . and . . . and get your men and beasts out of our courtyard! D’you hear me? And what are those wains for?”
Blank-faced, his voice dripping caustic sarcasm, Drehkos answered, “Why holy eeloheemehnos, to collect your freewill offering of stores for the Vawnpolis larder, of course.”
“But,” spluttered the abbot, “we did contribute. Why, a wagonload was driven to the Citadel but a week since!”
Drehkos struck his forehead with the heel of his hand. “Of course! How could I have forgotten so generous a gift-a bare score of moldy hams, some barrels of weevily flour and two tuns of inferior wine. Wasn’t that the inventory, holy sir?”
The elder put on a long, sad face, while his arrogance dissolved into restrained patience. “We gave our humble best, noble sir. You must realize that as holy men devoted to lives of quiet and contemplation, the eschewing of sinful, worldly pleasures and mortification of our flesh for the betterment of our souls .. .**