fellow?” he said, indicating Daxus.
“Perhaps Uncle Molin knows him?” Chenaya interjected.
The priest glared at her from the corner of his eye and shook his head. He was
uncharacteristically silent, watching, and, Chenaya knew, scheming how he might
turn the situation to his advantage.
“My pretty-boy?” Daphne jiggled the chain, causing Daxus to wrinkle his face in
pain. He couldn’t catch the chain, for his hands were bound securely behind his
back. When he tried to protest all that came out was a harsh, raspy sound that
set him to gagging. Maliciously, Daphne shook the chain harder. Tears sprang
from her prisoner’s eyes, and he sank to his knees. So it had been for Daxus the
past three days.
Daphne reeled in the length of chain, making Daxus crawl to her. “Haven’t I done
him up nicely?” She fingered the fine silk tunic she had put on him and ran her
hand over his head. “Fine garments for a piece of dung. He arranged the attack
on my caravan and hired the men that sold me into a year of hell. He’s only the
first to be discovered. I assure you, there will be others.” She ran her gaze
meaningfully around the hall. “I promise.” She jerked on the chain again, and a
trickle of blood oozed from Daxus’s nose. “And they’ll all end up like this!”
With a flick of her wrist she looped the chain around Daxus’s throat. Her hands
clenched around the chain and she strained, forearms bulging. Her face turned
into an insane mask of fury; her lips curled back in a snarl. Daxus emitted a
scraping howl as the links bit sharply into his flesh. His cheeks purpled; a