‘Please… Trull…’
Trull shook his head, trying not to hear.
‘All I wanted… you, and Fear, and Binadas. I wanted you to… include me. Not a child any longer, you see? That’s all, Trull’
Hannan Mosag grunted a laugh. ‘Respect, Trull. That is what he wanted. Where does that come from, then? A sword? A wealth of coins burned into your skin? A title? That presumptuous, obnoxious we he’s always using now? None of those? How about stealing his brother’s wife?’
‘Be quiet,’ Trull said.
‘Do not speak to your king that way, Trull Sengar. It will… cost you.’
‘I am to quail at your threats, Warlock King?’
Trull let his hands fall away from his ears. The gesture had been useless. This chamber carried the slightest whisper. Besides, there could be no deafness without when there was none within. He caught slight movement from the Letherii at the far wall and looked over to see that he had turned his head, attention fixed now upon the entranceway. The man suddenly frowned.
Then Trull heard footsteps. Heavy, dragging. A sound of metal, and something like streaming water,
Hannan Mosag twisted round where he lay. ‘What? What comes? Trull – find a weapon, quickly!’
Trull did not move.
Rhulad’s weeping resumed, indifferent to all else.
The thudding footsteps came closer.
A moment later, an apparition shambled into view, blood pouring down from its gauntleted hands. Nearly the size of a Tarthenal, it was sheathed in black, stained iron plates, studded with green rivets. A great helm with caged eye-slits hid the face within, the grille-work hanging ragged on its shoulders and beneath its armoured chin. The figure was encrusted with barnacles at the joins of its elbows, knees and ankles. In one hand it carried a sword of Letherii steel, down which the blood flowed ceaselessly.
Rhulad hissed, ‘What is it, Trull? What has come?’
The monstrosity paused just within the entrance. Head creaking as it looked round, it fixed its focus, it seemed, on the corpse of the King’s Champion. It resumed walking forward, leaving twin trails of blood.
‘Trull!’ Rhulad shrieked.
The creature halted, looked down at the emperor lying on the floor. After a moment, a heavy voice rumbled from within the helm. ‘You are gravely injured.’
Trembling, Rhulad laughed, a sound close to hysteria. ‘Injured? Oh yes. Cut to pieces !’
‘You will live.’