But before the left head completely expired, it turned to look at Need. The drooling idiot was gone, replaced by the cunning intelligence which had fooled him so easily earlier.
“Not mine, Kindred,” it said, black blood burbling at its thin lips. “She’s not mine but she’ll not be yours again, either. Never again.”
Then gave an evil laugh which ended in a choked gurgle and went limp.
The whole huge body shook once—a spasm so fierce it rocked the entire bed—and then Drung’s carcass sagged into death and the Trollox was no more.
Fifty-Seven
Need scrambled off the broad back, wincing as he unwound the sharp sword-grass from around his stiff fists. The makeshift garrotte had cut deeply into the meat of his palms and there were long streaks of crimson down both of his wrists and forearms.
It didn’t matter though—he would heal, he told himself. Right now, he was more worried about Lan’ara.
“It’s all right,” he said to her. She was crouched in the corner, her eyes wide and wild. “It’s all right now, sweetheart—he’s gone now. He’s dead.”
And he held out a hand and took a step towards her.
But to his surprise, something silver flashed in her fingers and she glared at him.
“Get back!” she snapped in a trembling voice. “Get back, Need—I mean it!”
“Sweetheart? Lan’ara?” He looked at her uncertainly.
“Oh, so now I’m your ‘sweetheart’ again, am I?” she demanded. “Why did you come, Need? To sell me again, to someone else? I don’t think so!”
The silver thing in her hand was a blade, he realized with horror—a sharp, silver razor blade which she was now holding against her own throat.
“I’ll die,” she said evenly, looking him straight in the eyes. “I’ll die before I’m owned by any man ever again! I swore that if I got out of this, my life would be my own and I would never bow and scrape and beg any man for anything for the rest of my days!”
“That’s completely understandable.” Need strove to keep his voice steady but he was filled with horror. Was she really prepared to kill herself, just to get away from him?
“You don’t understand anything!” Her gold-flecked eyes flashed and he thought that he had never seen her look so wild or so beautiful. Here was the true personality she’d been hiding beneath the subservient female who had wooed him and called him “my Lord.” Here was the free and fiery spirit she’d concealed—probably even from herself—in order to survive in bondage for so many years.
“I understand that I’ve been a fool,” Need told her heavily. “That I’ve done the unforgivable to you and that I don’t deserve your forgiveness for it.”
“You bonded me to you!” Lan’ara accused him. “You made me love you—you made me hope and then you sold me! All because of some lies that stupid Trollox told you!”
She jerked her head at the vast, limp carcass on the bed, which was still dribbling black ooze from the stump of its middle neck.
“I did.” Need bowed his head, accepting her anger—it was well deserved. “I was a fool and I hurt you. I can never say I’m sorry enough, Lan’ara.”
Her eyes flashed.
“Keep my name out of your mouth! Just call me ‘girl’ again, why don’t you, my Lord?” she spat.
“You can hate me all you want,” Need told her, ignoring the jab. “But please—don’t kill yourself. Come back with me to The Dark Heart.”
“And do what? Wait upon your pleasure and warm your bed as I was trained to do for so many years? I don’t think so!”
“You don’t have to have anything to do with me if you don’t want,” Need told her hoarsely. “Laxah told me she was going to train you as a med tech. Come back with me and you can train with her. After you have a skill, you can go anywhere in the universe you want and make your own way.” He leaned forward, wanting to go to her but not daring when the silver blade was still against the side of her throat. “You can have a life, Lan’ara—a real life. And I’ll never bother you again—I swear it.”
She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, clearly considering his offer.
“How do I know you’re not lying?” she demanded at last. “How can I ever trust you again after what you did to me?”
Need looked around the room, casting for a solution. At last, his eyes landed on the large blaster Drung had clipped to the back of his belt. Thank all the Gods and Goddess that ever were he hadn’t been able to reach it when Need started choking him! In the end, the deadly weapon had done the huge Trollox no good—but it might come in handy now.
“Here,” he said, leaning forward to unclip the blaster. He threw it to her with an underhand toss and Lan’ara dropped the razor blade to catch it.