How many votaries had Olybino posted around the fringes of the Mosweeps, waiting for the next slave-freeing attempt? Ainopple was no more Uoslope’s wife than Rap himself was. She was a substitute. Her glamour was a magnificent piece of sorcery, which had escaped his notice just as easily as it had deceived the tribune and his daughters and all the other inhabitants of Casfrel.
The trolls trudged over to the pegs and hung up their clothes. They must have been trained to do that, because clothes were not part of their culture.
Rap tried again, as loud as he could. “Thrugg!”
This time the monster shambled across to him and stopped with his muzzle almost in Rap’s face. “Master . . . hurt? Stuck?”
The huge hands closed on Rap’s waist, giving him a vivid image of himself being torn in pieces as the troll pulled him loose.
“No! No! Let go! The other man. Over there.”
Thrugg turned. “Other . . . master stuck?” Being native to the dense rain forests, trolls had excellent night sight, of course. “Just the cloth in his mouth, Thrugg. Bring me the cloth in his mouth.”
Thrugg crossed to Andor, removed the dirty rag, shuffled back to Rap, and inserted it in his mouth instead. It tasted unimaginably vile. Andor laughed shrilly.
Without warning, Thrugg cuffed the child. It was apparently a playful blow, although it would have stunned a nontroll. “Go!” he boomed. Norp headed obediently for the nearest pile of bedding and lay down. Thrugg put his arms around Urg. “Mate?” He kissed her.
“Unnnnnnnnnnnnnnnng!” Rap said desperately. Andor yelled, “Thrugg!”
Thrugg paid no attention. He was not much older than Urg was, and apparently neither of them knew that trolls almost never bred in captivity. From the way the embrace was proceeding, this was going to be one of the rare occasions when they did.
Rap solved one of his problems by vomiting violently, rag and all. He coughed and choked and spat, then puked again. “Rap!” Andor begged. “Do something! Help!”
“Oh, I’m sure he can manage on his own.” The agony in Rap’s joints was becoming excruciating. He could hardly see for tears, and he was afraid he would start screaming soon. He did not think Andor was in anything like as much pain as he was, at least not yet.
Thrugg had Urg down on the floor now, right in the middle of the cell. He really should have taken her over to the straw, but probably trolls did not worry much about finesse. She seemed enthusiastic enough.
Andor cursed fluently.
“I can’t do anything,” Rap said. “She’s gelded me. I’m helpless.” If he tried to ease his shoulders, his knees burned, and vice versa.
Bitch!
“Can you call Jalon?”
No, that wouldn’t work. Jalon was much slighter than Andor, and might be able to work his legs loose, but if Andor’s arms were bent as Rap’s were, then even Jalon could not wriggle out of the stone bonds. The transformation might tear him apart anyway; he was shorter than the imp.
“The magic isn’t there!”
“Nor mine.” Rap’s attempts not to groan were making his voice as guttural as a dwarf’s. If Ainopple could blank out Andor’s spell, then she was extraordinarily powerful.
“How long is she going to leave us here?” Andor wailed. “Not as long as she thinks. The Covin must have sensed her use of power. They’ll be here shortly, I think.”
That did not seem like much of a rescue. “We’re dead!”
“Let’s hope it’s quick.”
That did not seem much like Zinixo.
Thrugg and Urg were grunting and roaring in their joint frenzy. Rap dared not try to speak—if he opened his mouth now he would scream. Andor was weeping. Minute followed agonizing minute. Down on the dirt, the earth-shaking passion came to an end. The dust began to settle.
How much pain could a man stand before he fainted? Rap tried to think of other things. Such as, how long had the fake Ainopple been living at Casfrel? Months, surely. She had not yet heard of Zinixo’s usurpation of the Four. She had been lying in wait for a sorcerer, so she had deliberately refrained from using power, just as Rap had done. He had given himself away when he cured Thrugg’s injuries. Only a very puny sorcerer would have rattled the ambience so much for a minor healing.
And because she had been staying out of touch, she did not know that Olybino had disappeared. She would discover that when she tried to report to him in the morning, for Zinixo had control of the Gold Palace. It was astonishing that the Covin was not already investigating the use of power at Casfrel.
The situation seemed completely hopeless.
Thrugg heaved himself to his feet. Puffing and mumbling, he shuffled over to Andor and took hold of him. “Master still . . . stuck.”
Andor screamed in terror. “No! No! You’ll tear me apart! Stop! ” His voice choked off as he fainted dead away. Rap opened his mouth to yell at the well-meaning lummox also. Then he realized that—first—his pain had stopped, and—second—that he had his power back. And third, Thrugg’s very solid image in the ambience was grinning at him hugely.
He relaxed with a gasp of stunned relief.
“Sorry if we embarrassed you, sir.” A troll sorcerer could communicate without interference from equine teeth and shoe-size tongue. “The mistress is a narrow-minded old bag, and I thought that would be the best way to stop her spying on us. She’s gone to bed now. I’ve put her to sleep, so it’s safe.”
Thrugg lifted Andor out of the wall. He set him down gently in an untidy heap of limbs.
“I’m afraid I need help, too,” Rap admitted. He could make no impression on the sorceress’s spell. Feeling almost lightheaded with relief, he stared at the two Thruggs—the potent young sorcerer in the ambience and the lumbering barrel of muscle that came shuffling over to help him like a wellintentioned bullock, making the big room seem crowded. “It was you all the time?”
“Yes, just me. Urg really is my mate.” The troll lifted Rap out of the wall, also, with no apparent effort, either physical or occult. “She got caught when 1 was of doing a job near Drimush. 1 came to help, and then discovered there was a sorceress on guard. I’m fraid I frightened your friend. ”
Andor was spread out on the floor like a corpse.
Rap leaned against the wall, easing his aching joints and shivering. “No surprise. He needs the rest.” And Andor would try to disappear at the first opportunity, but he was still the cabal’s best horseman. “It might be a good idea if you left the shielding on him for the time being.”
“If you say so, sir.” Thrugg seemed shocked, though.
“Please. And please call me Rap.”
“Then that was a sequential spell I saw on him earlier?” ”Yes, it was.” Rap wondered how many sorcerers were powerful enough—and hence wise enough—to make a snap diagnosis of something as rare as a sequential spell. Thrugg sensed the thought and grinned bashfully.
A laughing Urg handed her man his shirt for the second time that evening. Norp had stopped pretending to be asleep and was sitting up. “Get . . . clothes . . . on now,” Thrugg growled at them. “You the Rap who turned down the Red Palace?”
“Er, yes. That wasn’t yesterday, though.” Thrugg could not have been more than a toddler.
“Mother’s told me about you.”
Mother? Gods! No wonder Grunth had protected the sorcerer who was rescuing slaves—her own son! And while Rap had been hiding his power from Zinixo, Ainopple had been hiding hers from Rap, and Thrugg had been hiding his from Ainopple! “How long have you been here at Casfrel?”
Thrugg’s wolfish face became oddly sheepish. “Couple months.” He climbed into his pants.
“Two months as a slave?”
If a hyena could look embarrassed, it might look like Thrugg did then. He scuffed a great horny foot in the dirt. “It wasn’t that bad. Urg was here. Food’s quite good. Lots of fresh air and heavy lifting.”
Trolls were notoriously placid, but that was ridiculous. “You’re obviously far more powerful than that Ainoppli woman!” Rap exclaimed, straightening up. He was disgustingly shaky. “Why didn’t you just swat her, and leave?”
“Well . . . I dunno. Just don’t like doing things like that to people. ”
For the first time, Rap had met a sorcerer who felt as he did about the evils of sorcery—even more so, for he would not have endured what this gentle colossus had.
“You let them beat you?”
Thrugg chortled, a sound like a tree falling. “Oh, I turned off the pain if it got too bad.” Dressed now, he stooped and lifted Andor like a baby. “I kept hoping she’d get tired waiting, and go away. I appreciate what you did for me, sir. Now,I suggest we leave her here for the Covin to find.” The door clicked open before him. “Mate . . . girl . . . come! Sir, I think we ought to get out of here smartish and head for the hills.”