With a gesture that reeked of bored indifference, he flicked his wrist in the direction of the deserting soldier. The fleeing fighter was already through the outer gate and racing down the road that led to the city, driving his mount hard with repeated blows of his ceremonial whip of gold braid. Seeing this, Hymneth frowned darkly behind his helmet. One thing he could not abide was unreasoning cruelty to animals—especially those that served him better than his people.
Trailing a long tail of ichorous green mist, the ball of vapor lifted from Hymneth’s hand. It soared over the outer wall and down the mountainside. Having no need for road or trail, it made its own.
“Come, Peregriff. Let’s finish this.”
Together, lord and servant resumed the inspection. None of the assembled soldiers had moved during or subsequent to the unpleasant confrontation, and none of them moved now as Hymneth the Possessed strode past them, hands still busy behind his back. Only two mounted fighters remained to be scrutinized when an agonized, distant shriek wafted over the outer wall from somewhere on the road not far below. It carried with it all the horror of death without dying, of some finely conceived yet transitory torture. It expressed eloquently the shock of sudden realization of an exquisite torment artfully delivered. Pausing before the last soldier in line, Hymneth smiled, his revealed teeth concealed behind the protective steel.
“Good job, soldier.” Reaching out, he patted the white-and-black gelding firmly on the side of its neck. The horse reacted with a slight shake of its head, ruffling its mane. At a terse nod from Peregriff, the individual thus singled out felt free to respond.