“It is good to see you again, Drakis,” the dwarf said with careful lightness in his voice, his eyes fixed on the human. “I have been worried about you, you know.”
Drakis could only stare at the dwarf.
“Drakis? Are you well?”
Only then did he realize that the manticore was Belag. Drakis took in a long, shuddering breath and looked up into the face of the towering manticore.
The creature’s yellow eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Is there something wrong?”
He doesn’t know, Drakis realized. Sha-Timuran has not told any of the Impress Warriors about my beating. . no one has told them. Perhaps Mala doesn’t know either. .
“No, everything is fine,” he lied. “Sha-Timuran was. . was pretty upset about losing the crown, especially to his neighbor. . but everything is fine.”
Belag considered this for a time and then nodded with a grunt. “You are square, then?”
“Yes-I am square,” Drakis replied, but he looked away as he spoke. “What are you doing with the dwarf?”
“Jerakh told me to bring him for shearing and branding.”
“Ah,” Drakis nodded. “I see. So he couldn’t stand him either. Where are you taking him now?”
They both turned to look at Jugar. He had wandered back down the long curve of the great hall, staring up at the wall above him with both of his thick hands clasped tightly behind his back.
“It’s back to the barracks with him until he is impressed this evening at Devotions,” Belag said although his furry brows were knitted in thought. “I don’t like him, Drakis. There’s something unsettling about him.”
He can see the future, Drakis thought. Yes, that is unsettling.
“Just another conquest to the glory of the House Timuran,” Drakis said. “Look, if you don’t mind, I’ll take the dwarf back-there are some questions I need to ask him.”
The manticore looked suddenly relieved. “Gladly. How the gods put so many words into so short a soul, I’ll never know. Better you listen to him than me.”
“Then off with you. . I’ll see you at Devotions.”
The manticore was already padding quickly back around the garden toward the north hall and the chakrilya beyond.
Drakis kept his eye on the dwarf. His figure seemed almost comical now that it was shaved and branded. This short, ugly creature had done more than bring them back to a world that was horrifying; he had predicted its horrors long before they had become fact. Drakis knew that the ways of the gods were strange and unfathomable to the mortals with whose fates they played, but he could not deny that this dwarf had conjured questions in his mind that he had to ask and have answered.
Drakis stepped up to the dwarf, and with a quick glance down the hall, spoke rapidly in hushed tones.
“Are you a god?”
The dwarf turned his chubby face toward the human. “What did you say?”