Shadow of Death (Book 2 of Hanthalah)

Chapter 27

"Are you well, young man?" the wiseman asked.

"Feels l – " I started before I was forced to keep silent again under the scrutiny of the stabbing sensation in my chest. "Gah!"

Feels like I'm being stabbed over and over, I wanted to say.

"He's speaking, then," 'Amr pointed out, more reserved than Mundhir. He wore a placid and emotionless expression, arms folded on the far side of the room. At his side was the Nubian with a similarly flat face.

"He is not past the danger," the wiseman informed him matter-of-factly.

They were all speaking in Greek. The wiseman must have been Egyptian.

"How long?" I managed to stammer.

Even in my taste, I could read the room. There was a tension that swept over them for a minute, drowning out their joy and relief, turmoil twisting their faces in contrast to the blissful silence that hung in the still air.

"Three months," answered 'Amr, dutiful as ever.

"So many," I coughed out. "People to kill."

I couldn't die now. Not now! Muhammad ibn Maslamah. He killed Qusayy. He killed him. He killed him!

Muhammad ibn Maslamah! Fuck!

'Amr looked appalled at the outburst, but the wiseman only chuckled dryly at my side.

"You will continue to murder whoever you please," he promised. "For now, however, you rest and heed my instructions. Take the herbs I give you."

I grunted. "Magic herbs."

"Well...yes, yes, magic herbs. Just do as I say."

With a rare moment of dexterity, I lurched forward with a hand and grabbed the wiseman's wrist in an iron-clad grip.

"If I die..." I paused, swallowing against the wretched pain. "I'm...taking you...with me."

The stabbing sensation proved too cumbersome for me to regain that position, so I fell back and sunk deeper into the mattress, groaning all the while. I felt drained. Utterly hapless. Bereft of all energy.

I just needed to close my eyes. Yes, some sleep would not go amiss...

The wiseman sniffed. "Well. We can't have that happening then, can we?"

And I drifted back into the darkness.

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"You spent months with that man, yet you don't know who he was or why he abducted you?" I took a sip from the foul green liquid that foul old man told me to drink. It had been days since I felt well enough to sit up without having my entire body scold me.

Mundhir shrugged. "He gave me all I wanted. Saw to my every need. I didn't need to lift a finger. What more can a man want?"

"Meaning he was provided with drink and women," 'Amr translated with a sigh of exasperation.

Mundhir nodded. "And fruit. Lots of fruit. Have you ever had juice, 'Amr? It's fucking lovely, I'm telling you."

'Amr rolled his eyes and ground his teeth. "For God's sake. What is wrong with you?"

"The man seemed to want me," I mused aloud. I remembered another by the banks of the Nile some years back when I was an auxiliary with the Romans. He knew my name. Wore similar garments.

"There you go, thinking you're at the center of everything," Mundhir smirked, rolling his eyes in mockery of 'Amr.

"You half-witted simpleton dwarf," 'Amr chided him. "Must I spell everything out for you? The man literally addressed Hanthalah. Perhaps if you weren't too busy sinning, you would have noticed that."