Grimm stood beside him. Durm watched the two from across the
commander’s bed, his expression stony. With a flourish of his cape,
Jastom lifted the purple bottle and unstoppered it. No sense in sparing
the dramatics.
Jastom nodded to Grimm. The dwarf grabbed the draconian’s twisting
head and held it steady, forcing the monster’s jaws open with strong
fingers. Jastom tipped the bottle and poured the thick contents past the
draconian’s lolling forked tongue and down his gullet. Grimm let
Skaahzak’s jaws snap back shut. Jastom waved his hand, and the empty
bottle seemed to vanish into thin air. Durm never even blinked an eye.
Jastom took a deep breath, searching for something suitably
dramatic to say. But before he could, the fetid air of the tent was
shattered by a blood-curdling shriek.
Skaahzak.
The draconian shrieked again, writhing upon the bed. Jastom and
Grimm gaped at the creature. In a flash, Durm drew his sword and
levelled it at Jastom’s heart.
“It seems you have failed,” Durm spoke softly, almost as a father
might chide an erring son, except that his voice was so deathly cold.
Abruptly, the draconian commander leapt from the bed and knocked
Durm’s sword aside. The goblin’s gruel was coursing through the
creature’s blood, lighting him aflame. The gray tinge had left Skaahzak’s
flesh, and if his wound was causing him any pain he did not show it. His
yellow eyes glowed brightly now.
“Stop this foolishness, Durm,” Skaahzak hissed. “I will have your
head if you dare strike either of these most skillful healers.”
Jastom’s head was spinning. But he was not about to let this
opportunity go to waste. He doffed his cap and bowed deeply. “It
gladdens my heart to see milord in such excellent health,” he proclaimed
in a deeply-felt tone. He surreptitiously kicked Grimm’s knee, and the
dwarf toppled forward in clumsy imitation of Jastom’s graceful bow.
“You have done me a great service, healer,” Skaahzak said in his
dry, reptilian voice, donning a crimson robe that an attendant soldier
offered him.
“I am overjoyed that I could restore such a brilliant commander to
health,” Jastom said. Grimm muttered something inaudible under his
beard.
“That you have,” Skaahzak hissed. Suddenly he spun about wildly, a
ferocious, toothy grin on his face. “I’ve never felt better in my
life!” He lurched dizzily and would have fallen but for
Durm’s strong hands steadying him.
There was no doubt about it. The draconian was rip-
roaring drunk.
“Take your filthy paws from me!” Skaahzak spat,
shrugging off the lieutenant’s grip. “You, who have
brought me healer after healer, cleric after cleric, all who
poked, prodded, and prayed to their foul gods over me,
and all who failed. I should have you flailed for letting me
suffer so long.” Skaahzak’s expression flickered between
intoxicated ecstasy and livid rage. Little seemed to
separate the two emotions in this creature.
Durm watched silently, impassively.
“However, you DID bring these most excellent
healers to me,” Skaahzak said, his voice crooning now.
“Thus I will be merciful. I will even grant you a reward to
show you the depths of my kindness.” He held out his left
hand. “You may kiss the ring of your master, Lieutenant
Durm.”
On the draconian’s clawed middle finger was a ring
set with a ruby as big as a thumbnail. Jastom guessed that
Skaahzak hadn’t removed the ring in years. In fact, he
doubted the draconian would be able to take it off at all.
The monster’s scaly flesh was puffy and swollen to either
side of the ring. Durm did not hesitate. He knelt before
Skaahzak’s proffered hand.
Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to the
glimmering ruby. As he did so, Skaahzak struck the
lieutenant. Durm did not even flinch. Slowly, he rose to
his feet. The ruby had cut his cheek, and a thin trickle of
blood, as crimson as the gem, ran down his jaw. The
draconian grinned.
“There, lieutenant,” Skaahzak said, his reptilian voice
slurred and indistinct. “Your reward is complete.”
Durm bowed stiffly, giving Jastom a brief,
indecipherable glance.
Jastom tried to swallow his heart, but it kept clawing
its way up into his throat. He cast a meaningful look at