Reen had been itching to ask the Ultor just that question, but experience made her cautious. Men didn’t like to be questioned, especially by girls. After last night’s long-winded history, she’d assumed he’d start chatting on his own anyway, that he’d have questions for her at least. But he’d been completely silent since the elders left. She’d decided to wait him out, but Bragg solved her problem nicely.
“He wants to know what your plan is.”
“Wait,” the Ultor rumbled. “Rebuild my strength.”
“Tell him I’ll return tomorrow morning,” Bragg said after she’d translated, “and lead him out. He can attack then, starting with the guards in the cave.”
“No,” was all the Ultor replied to her translation.
“Just … no? You don’t want to tell him anything else?”
“I’ll tell him when I’m ready to attack. In the meantime, I
need three meals a day. Much more meat. Beer. Wheat cakes with honey. And fresh
fruit, as much as they can find.”
She hesitated.
“What’s wrong, girl?” the Ultor asked.
“What’s wheat cakes?”
“You grind wheat up fine, like sand, and bake it into a
cake, like so.” He held his hands close together.
“What’s wheat?”
“A grain. Cereal… A kind of grass with seeds on it?” He
sighed. “What do you eat in this village?”
“What’s he saying?” Bragg asked.
“Just a minute.” To the Ultor: “Goat. Kumis. Chicken, on
special occasions.” She thought a moment. “I don’t know the words in Ugasic. A
kind of yellow flower? Anyway, some plants. Not that many this time of year.
And—are nuts fruit?”
“No, not really.”
“Oh. Then no fruit.”
“Not even dried?”
She shrugged. “Long gone.”
“How do your people survive on the mountain on so little?”
Bragg tried to interrupt again and she ignored him.
“They’re not my people. And they don’t usually live on the mountain
year-round. That’s Morrigan’s doing.”
“Morrigan is the man in charge, the man with the tooth?”
“That’s him.”
Bragg got up in a huff. “Fine, talk amongst yourselves. I’ll
be back in the morning. Tell him to be ready.”
“He says no.”
“What?”
“He says he’ll tell you when he’s ready to attack, and until
then he needs a lot more food.”
“So that’s his game,” Bragg scowled. “Suck us dry with
promises of freedom.”
“He came over the mountain. Most men would be dead. He’s
only hungry.”
“That’s not really my problem. Even if it’s true.”
“It’s your problem if you want him to kill Morrigan and his
men.”
Bragg smiled. “I could just wait for him and die and take
that sword.”
“And do what with it? You’d die the first time you tried to
point it at one of Morrigan’s men.”
Bragg curled his lip at her. “What do you know about it, you
little cunt?”
She’d heard the word a million times, but she still felt her
face flush red. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the Ultor watching them
both, waiting, one hand casually near the sword. She wished she could say a
word and the Ultor would spring up and slash Bragg’s stupid, ugly throat. She
wished he would die right there on the cave floor, gagging, sorry he’d ever
been mean to her.
“Does he know,” Bragg went, “that you’re a traitor to your
people? Does he care?”
“None of you are my people,” she hissed.
“Tell him he follows me out of the cave tomorrow, or he dies
in here.”
“He can’t die,” she said, with a sudden rush of inspiration.
“If he dies, his curse will fall on you.”
“What?”
“See his skin? Why do you think he’s so black? He’s got a
curse.”
“What kind of curse?”
“His priests cursed him so he has to wander the earth until
he kills his enemy. They burned him all over to make him black, and his skin
keeps on burning until he kills the man. Just burning and burning, torturing
him all the time.” Bragg looked uncertain. “Remember how he threw fire at
Morrigan’s men? He just picked up the fire and threw it at them, and it didn’t
hurt him because he’s already burning, all the time.”
Bragg was staring openly at the Ultor now. The Ultor obliged
by scowling at him.
“And if he dies before he kills his man, he comes back as a
ghost and finds whoever killed him—or let him die—and he touches their skin,
and they burn up too.”
The Ultor—he couldn’t have understood a word she was saying,
but Bragg’s fear was pretty readable—he got up and stretched himself to his
full height, a full head taller than Bragg, and stood absolutely still, sword
in front of him, staring down his nose at the smaller man. His scaly armor glimmered
in the lantern light. It didn’t take much imagination to see fire sparking on
his body. Reen could have kissed him.
“And if we help him?” Bragg asked, voice cracking a little.
“He takes his curse away with him, and the whole village
will be blessed.”
“How do you know all this? Did he tell you?”
Give Bragg credit, he was trying to hold onto his
skepticism. “No, he didn’t have to. I recognized him. My mom told me all about
Ultors. They’re terrible famous all around the world. That’s why I freed him. I
didn’t want the curse to fall on us all.”
Bragg nodded, leaning away from the Ultor as far as he could
without actually stepping back. “Fine. It’s good you warned us. Tell him … Tell
him we’ll feed him, and we want him gone as soon as possible. Just make sure he
kills Morrigan’s gang first.”
“He’s agreed to, hasn’t he? An Ultor’s word is unbreakable.”
“Fine. Fine.”
“Meals three times a day, as much as you can feed him.”
“I’ll do what I can.” And with that Bragg scurried away out
of the cavern.
“What did you tell him?” the Ultor asked.
It suddenly occurred to her that he might not appreciate her
story. She considered lying, but he was a lot smarter than Bragg, and she didn’t
want him turning against her. She told him the truth.
He burst out laughing.
“Child, one day your lying is going to get you in trouble.”
He took a swig out of the bag and nearly choked. “What is this?”
“Kumis? It’s milk that … I don’t know the word.”
“I can guess. You like this?”
She took the bag from him.
“No wheat, so no beer,” he mused. “You have wine in this
village?”
She nodded, gulping from the bag.
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