‘You need promise only this,’ Kadakithis called down. ‘Be silent until you are
under torture. Suffer a little, then tell all.’
‘Suffer? … Torture?’
‘Come, come, you deserve both. You’ll suffer only a little of what you have
coming. Don’t, and betray these words, roach, and you will die out of hand. No,
make that slowly. Nor will anyone believe you, anyhow.’
Hanse knew that he was in over his head, both literally and figuratively.
Hanging on to creaky old wood that was definitely rotting away by the second, he
agreed.
‘I’ll need help,’ the prince called. ‘Hang on.’
Hanse rolled his eyes and made an ugly face. He hung on. He waited. Daring not
to pull himself up on to the wood. His shoulders burned. The water seemed to
grow colder, and the cold rose up in his legs. He hung on. Sanctuary was only
about a league away. He hoped Kitty – the prince – galloped. He hung on. Though
the sun never came up and the moon’s position changed only a little, Hanse was
sure that a week or two passed. Cold, dark, and sore, those weeks. Riches!
Wealth! Cudgel had told him that revenge was a stupid luxury the poor couldn’t
afford!
Then His clever Highness was back, with several men of the night watch and a lot
of rope. While they hauled up a bedraggled, bruised Shadowspawn, the prince
mentioned a call of nature and strolled away amid the clutter of big stones. He
did not lift his tunic. He rf/rfpause on the other side of a pile of rubble. He
gazed earthwards, upon a dead traitor, and slowly he smiled in satisfaction. His