As they made their descent down the steps, more wolves seemed to join in the summer night's wild chorus.
"Why do they howl?" asked Wes to know one in particular as he tested the point of his dagger with a finger.
"They sing for you, young master," said Zag, "man and beast both shall be your servants."
When they walked down the main hall, Brando did not call out. Wes assumed he fell asleep. Zagarolo, carrying Marge for him, led him down down the steps which led to a tunnel lit by sconces alive with blue fire. Their path ended with a wooden door swathed in cobwebs.
"Where does it lead?" asked Wes.
"The pit of which Brando fell in." Zag turned the key to the door's lock and motioned for Wes to enter.
Wes stepped through the doorway and saw Brando curled up, lying on the dry, earthen floor.
"Can you walk, Brando?" inquired Wes as he approached him. "Let us get you out of here." Wes was uncertain about simply releasing him, yet who was he to keep Brando prisoner in this manor? "Well, we must talk before you can leave ..."
Brando slowly got up, the pain in his leg making him stand awkwardly with his back to Wes.
Zagarolo slammed the door shut, and Wes heard the lock slide in.
Why did he do that? thought Wes with distress.284Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcizmM17I17
"The Fraekli," began Brando in a languid voice, "it calls both of us."
"Brando," said Wes, "is there something amiss?"
Brando did not answer. His arms were lifted in front of him as if inspecting something.
"On my way to Harshel," muttered Brando, "remnants of the invaders from Vreng attacked Sarmel. The barbarians torched the village, but I escaped. They forced me to run through this horrid wood. The night felt so long and I felt wolves or worse would feast on me. Then I heard it calling. The Fraekli yearned for my touch."284Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBJ6G2qIHkn
"Brando ..." was all Wes could say.
The air felt thick down here and the hairs on Wes's skin bristled. He became more and more uneasy at every passing second since Brando went silent after telling his story. Whatever he held, he curled his head and hands around it, as if listening to a seashell's waves.284Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡa6ZXtOXKQc
"He will not come, Zag," Wes called through the door, "what shall I do?"
But the old man was silent. Wes moved slowly towards Brando, thinking of what words to use to soothe him.
Brando turned suddenly and flung whatever was in his hands at Wes.
The small stone struck his forehead. The dizziness from the hit made him stagger and fall backward. He put his palms to his head and felt the wetness above his brow. When he lowered his hands and looked ahead.
Brando was inches away from him, charging with the look of anger on his face.
"I will not call you master!" he screamed at Wes, spittle flying from his mouth as he shot his arms out to grab him. "I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"
"Brando, calm yourself!" Wes shouted.284Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtzWKkYSr6o
But Brando's ears were deaf to his pleas. He smashed his fist into Wes's cheek. When he raised his arms to stop his assault, the staffer wrapped his fingers around his throat and began to squeeze.
"I am the master. I am the master," Brando growled through clenched teeth. "You are dirt, you and your squalling whelp. All nothing but dirt beneath my boots."
The world began to darken. The ceaseless howling continued and seemed to get louder. Wes also thought he heard the vicious snarls of the wolves and the snapping of their teeth. But what rang loudest, above the mouths of beasts, was the cries and coughs of Marge. If I die, what will happen? What will ...
Wes swiped the brazen dagger wildly in front of him. Brando's release allowed him to breathe and life returned to him as he sucked in air. His right hand felt wet, and he could feel a stream of liquid run down to his elbow. Wes looked up.284Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw3v2QEMQ4a
Brando held a red hand tightly to his own neck. Blood rushed out between his fingers. He was muttering something vile as he lowered himself to pick up a jagged stone from the ground. The staffer charged at him once more.284Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCJskPLltk5
Wes met him with the point of his dagger. The blade buried itself into Brando's belly. The man fell on him, his weight forcing Wes to his knees.
"Well fought," the dying staffer uttered in his ear, "Master Wes ..."284Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaqVRC2mqEx
After Brando had stopped moving, Wes worked himself out from under him. Zagarolo unlocked and opened the pit's door. 284Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXljQWXDPej
Wes turned to him, his anger boiling as he stomped towards him. Had it not been for Marge being cradled in his arms, Wes swore he would have struck him.284Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfNAJwgb9iZ
"You old bastard!" Wes howled at him, "You made me kill him!"284Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLA3JudW3oL
"If not, he would have killed you," Zag explained, "and it would be he who would be the master."284Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIYFfwGPbIl
"Was this necessary?"284Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYUT0RNpZGI
"Of course, the Fraekli called both of you."
"But only one could live? Is that the way of it."
"That is correct. Though, if Brando's death distresses you so much, by your power, he may live as your servant."
"If that is true, then cleanse my hands, Zag."
"Certainly, but first ..."284Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡK4DHu03JEr
Zag pointed at Brando's body. Wes neared the body and saw that a torn pouch attached to the staffer's belt hid something that shined in the light. Wes shook it out of the bag. A gem fell into his palm. It was a brilliant emerald surrounded by wrapped in polished copper wires. The Fraekli, Wes knew it must be, The Stone of the Midnight Servant. 284Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKYohvqeEG6
The stone gave him a feeling of familiarity. It was as if though he knew what this was before he held it or even before Zag met him. Perhaps it speaking to him silently, telling its story without using words. He felt that there were many others before him in this same position, looking and getting drunk of its glimmer, and growing hungry for its mysterious power.
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