As Hymneth and his general were mounting the steps that led back into the inner castle, trailed by the snuffling, silent eromakadi, the two soldiers who had been dispatched to bring back the deserter returned, leading the man’s mount between them. Across the saddle lay an oddly slack body. Its legs and arms were twitching, as was its neck, but it was as if they were no longer connected to one another. The man was beyond screaming now, reduced to a piteous sobbing that shook the spirits of all within and without the castle who happened to overhear it.
Dismounting, the pair of soldiers relieved the other horse of its burden. The man screamed anew when they pulled him off the saddle. He could no longer sit on his horse, or anywhere else. As he could not stand, he had to be carried off by his former comrades in arms. Since he had lost weight they were able to move him without much effort, though they had to be careful of his middle. It sagged flaccidly, chest and stomach sinking toward the ground as if that part of him were melting in the sun.
Hymneth paused long enough to watch the unfortunate being carried out of sight. “I suspected he was spineless when I first set eyes on him. Now he is for sure.” Turning away, he led his second in command back into the castle. The inspection had made him hungry.
* * * *
They ate together. Not in the formal dining room, but out on one of the second-floor terraces that overlooked the city and the sea. If there was anywhere else on earth that could boast of weather as serene and tranquil as that of Ehl-Larimar, Hymneth had not heard of it. Peregriff agreed; it was another fine day.