Page 5 of The Hollow King

“Use the salve I gave you. It will stop the blood. Make sure you clean it first and then bandage it.”

“Yes, Master.”

It was a meagre offering this year. It would need to be fed more.

“Give this one food three times a day.”

“Yes, Master,” he said with a final bow before he edged away into the corner.

It was bound, so it could not escape.

I stood but did not leave. It was inadequate, scarred, bound and pitiful.

There was something about the female.

A sense of something lingering under the surface.

Borin scuttled back with the salve and clean linen.

I blinked at the sacrifice.

It could be a trap.

“I want it fat. With vibrant blood flowing through it,” I snapped at Borin.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” he said rapidly nodding his head.

I sighed and left. I could still hear him repeating the word on a loop. There was bound to be some aftereffect on his mind after all these years.

Chapter 3

Iona

There was something tapping against my head. There was pain but it seemed to be lessening. I slowly opened my eyes, trying to be discreet. The grey was blurred at first, but then I saw it.

A troll-like creature with sharp pointed ears, swollen face and a severely deformed forehead, its breath sour and hot against my skin, close enough that I could count the cracks in its lips.

If I didn’t pretend to be mute, I would have been screaming, but instead I allowed that fear to paralyse me. My pulse hammered so hard I feared it could be heard, a drum beat loud enough to betray me. It gave me time to breathe again.

“Borin fix leak for Master,” he muttered. “Borin be good. A good Borin for Master.”

He wasn’t human. His skin was pale, but not like ours. He was more of a grey or blue shade. The pain in my head slowly ebbed away. The creature was helping me, not hurting me.

I stared at the creature a moment longer.

We did not belong outside.

There was no scarf around my head and shoulders to hide my cheek. The people would stare and speculate. Some thought I deserved such harsh treatment for being a disobedient wife. That it was I, who caused my husband to beat me so violently. But most would turn and look the other way.

“Borin fetch food. Three foods.”

Poor deformed Borin and I did not belong outside. There was cruelty everywhere. It lived inside everyone.

I glanced around the small cell. It was cold and dirty. There was no pallet beneath me, but a stench all around me, damp stone and rot pressing close in the dark.

What did it matter?

I was here to die.