Page 6 of Surrender
“Your father, my lord. The Tabun have captured him.”
“No. That’s impossible.” Kylar shook his head. “Your sources are wrong. I personally escorted him to the fortress when the first wave of invaders stormed through the portal.”
“Yes, my lord, you did. But your father – well, he’s still our king. When you left, he called for his horse, vowing to take on the vile Tabun and drive them from our land once and for all. None of us dared refuse him. Six of his guards rode at his side, swore to protect him until the last breath left their bodies. They did, to the man.” His voice broke.
Haldor squared his shoulders and went on, as if his next words weighed heaviest on his soul. “Sigrun was last seen by Heinrick’s youngest son. The lad said he was led away on foot, tied behind his horse. To his credit, the boy did his best to come to the aid of his king. But one of the Tabun drove a sword through his belly. It’s a miracle the boy made it back to the fortress alive.”
For a mighty warrior, there was no greater shame than to be captured alive and forced to walk to his prison while staring up the ass of his own horse. The big man stopped, overcome.
Haldor’s parents died when he was just a boy, slain in the last Tabun raid. Sigrun brought the young lad to the palace, raised him like a brother to Kylar. Queen Astra had tucked him into bed at night next to her own child, soothed his tears when he wept for them. For Haldor, it was like losing his father a second time.
As for his own feelings, there was no time for grief and pain. Kylar climbed out of the hot spring and threw on his clothes. Then he clasped Haldor in a fierce hug. “Come, brother. We need to gather our wits and our warriors. We’ll hoist a mug for our fallen comrades. They we’ll hatch a plan to rescue our king and defeat those ugly bastards once and for all.”
* * *
Talia huddled in a corner, shivering, and tried to burrow deeper into the straw that served as both bed and carpet on the stone floor. Balam hadn’t returned her cloak or the torn gown. He’d seemed to take extra pleasure watching her try valiantly to preserve her dignity as he led her through the crowd while her breasts and bottom were pinched and fondled by every man they passed.
She shifted, dislodged a nasty-smelling clump of straw. Something brushed her bare leg then scurried away. Talia stifled a scream. If she allowed herself to think about all the disgusting vermin living with her in the darkness, she’d go mad.
The massive wooden door to her cell creaked on its rusty hinges. A blast of light blinded her for a moment before she made out a small slight figure on the threshold. Lit torches behind it threw it into a silhouette.
“Come here.”
The creature spoke Gadolinian. But its voice was as featureless as its cloaked form, neither distinctly male or female. When she didn’t move, the creature made a noise like the yip of a small dog. Two more figures appeared, wearing dark hooded robes like the first. They scrambled through the doorway. Talia shrank away. Cold slimy fingers dug into her skin as they hauled her to her feet.
They dragged her into the dark passageway under the palace. She’d been taken through it hours ago then shoved into the cell. How many hours ago, she couldn’t say. Alone in the silent darkness, time had become meaningless.
The one who’d spoken headed down the passage. The creatures on either side of her prodded her along after him. They passed more wooden doors, all barred on the outside. Talia fought her embarrassment at being naked in public again, concentrating instead on memorizing the route they took.
They turned left into another long passage. She counted the doors they passed and desperately tried to ignore sobs and wails coming from behind one of them. The little creature in front of her stopped in front of a set of double doors, larger than all the others. He threw them open and revealed a huge square chamber carved out of the bedrock.
A dozen more of the creatures stood around a wooden table in the center of the room. Talia got a good look at them by the light of torches flickering in niches set high in the walls. No taller than her waist, they had hairless heads with coal-black slanted eyes. No noses, only a pair of vertical slits above a larger hole for a mouth. Their skinny arms and legs ended in two bony appendages where human fingers and toes would be, with a third stubby one in place of the thumbs and big toes. Unlike the ones accompanying her, they wore no clothes, revealing grayish-brown bodies with skin that looked slimy. She didn’t see any sexual organs to tell her whether they were male or female.
The creatures shoved her forward. Others swarmed around and, before she could protest, they’d lifted her and laid her face up on the table. Dozens of cold slimy fingers wrapped around her arms, holding her in place. When one of them grabbed her ankle, she kicked out and sent it crashing to the floor. She heard more of the high-pitched yips and others took its place, holding her down from thighs to ankles then spreading her legs apart. One of them gave a low grunt as it stared at her exposed labial folds.
Talia turned away, blinking back tears of shame and helplessness, and found herself eye to eye with the one nearest her head. She could see her reflection in the empty, dark pools. No soul, no spark of emotion. It was like staring into the eyes of a reptile.
The one who’d spoken to her walked to the foot of the table, leaned forward, and peered at her vagina. Its toothless mouth widened into a caricature of a smile.
“You Tabun slave,” it said, speaking Gadolinian in a high-pitched monotone. “Jamron want buy. First – examine. You no fight, we no punish.”
The finger-like appendages at the end of one of its arms swelled and lengthened. Horrified, she watched the little creature climb onto the table and crouch between her legs.
The doors flew open and slammed against the stone walls. Lord Balam strode in, his face dark. “I tell you Jamrons over and over – you cannot conduct an examination until I am here to witness it. The only reason I allow this at all is that you have no cocks to ruin the merchandise with. Just those disgusting bony things you shove into any opening you find.”
Balam may not have been proficient in Gadolinian, but now that her Tellex chip fluently interpreted his own guttural language, Talia realized it was much more sophisticated than she’d thought, capable of communicating complex thought. Their bodies may not have changed over the last thirty thousand years, but either the historians were wrong about the intelligence level of the Neanderthals or their brains had evolved. Far from being a slow-witted cretin, this man was a cunning adversary.
And a crude one. Not only would he allow the disgusting aliens to violate her, Balam planned to witness every minute of her degradation. He’d already stripped her naked and paraded her in front of his men. Laughed when she shrank away as they poked and prodded her.
The creature crouching on the table reached out, his finger-like appendage writhing and twisting. The others crowded around the table, making a low humming sound. Talia felt a cold finger slide up her thigh.
“No!” With a Herculean effort, she wrestled one leg free and brought her knee to her chest. A kick to its midsection sent the creature skidding off the table. It crashed onto the floor.
The low hum stopped. Then it started up again, this time a high-pitched angry buzz. The creature picked itself up from the floor and shook the appendage that had touched her at Lord Balam.
“No want. Bad whore. You sell to Valans.”
Balam looked furious. But the threat of losing a potential buyer had him take a more conciliatory tone than any she’d heard from him till now.