The Orb And The Spectre (Book 2) by Martin Ash

"I can start heating a poker for friend Shenwolf now!"
       Issul stayed silent. He downed the ale, then said, "I think you are beginning to learn."
       "You seem to have a devoted following here, Ombo."
       "A dozen rogues. They serve me well and enjoy a percentage of my profits."
       "Profits from what?"
       "What do you think?"
       "You are a brigand, is what I think. You and your band of thugs are fugitives from law. By rights you should now be in the King's army, defending Enchantment's Reach against the Karai menace."
       Ombo stepped forward and cuffed her with a smart backhand across the side of the head. The blow sent Issul sprawling across the chamber. Her head rang, blinding shards of pain hammered through her, but as her senses spun she recognized that, had he wanted, Ombo could easily have killed her with a single blow.
       She spat blood from her mouth, then felt herself yanked upwards. Ombo had her by the back of her shirt. He spun her around and slammed her down upon a table, then leaned over her, his huge leering face thrust before her, his sweat and beer-breath an affront to her nostrils.
       "King Leth!" Ombo sneered. "He is a spineless lizard of a man. Let me tell you something: had the Karai come in here seeking help, I would have joined them. Yes, I would, as would my men, freely and gladly. It’s preferable to supporting that weak-willed, godless wretch. He has brought us to this, be sure of that, Jace . Leth the Despicable! Leth the Pusillanimous! Leth the Impious!"
       "You do not strike me as a pious man, Ombo."
       Ombo drew back. "You taunt me again, Jace. The poker can be glowing in moments. Have you ever heard how it sizzles in an orifice? Have you ever watched the face or listened to the cries of man with a glowing poker thrust up his arse? How he feels his innards broil? Let me tell you how it is done. First, while the poker heats, we take a bull's horn and saw off the tip to create a hollow tube. This we thrust deep into the arse, then the poker follows, melding the horn to the innards as well as penetrating deeper, far deeper than you can imagine. It can be arranged, Jace . For Shenwolf. For you, too. Very easily."
       Issul clenched her teeth, fury abolishing any fear she felt of the man. The entire side of her face still throbbed with the pain of his blow.
       Ombo smirked. "Yes, I see that you do understand this time. Now, before we partake of our pleasure together, there is one other matter I wish to address." He turned and slowly crossed the room, then turned back. "Jace. . . . Jace. . . . Why am I so sure that is not your real name?"
       He stared at Issul. She said nothing.
       "You speak and comport yourself like a woman of status and refinement. You fight like a warrior privileged to have known a rare kind of training. You command like a natural born leader. Men obey you without question. That is interesting, is it not?"
       "I don’t see it so."
       "Yes, it is. I have wondered about you from the beginning, thinking that you might be more than you endeavoured to seem. You have said that you are from the city-castle. Perhaps somebody there might be willing to pay a substantial reward for your safe return."
       "I wouldn’t think so. I am governess to a noble family, that’s all. They value me for my work, but I’m easily replaced. In fact, I’m sure that a replacement will already have been found. As for my family, they are poor folk from the country. Were they to learn that I was the prisoner of a low and heartless brigand, they could offer you little more than a cow or a pig, perhaps a few chickens as well."
       "Is that so?" Ombo ambled back to the barrel of ale to replenish his tankard. "That is interesting. My assistant, Gramkintle - who you met earlier - has been to the city-castle in recent days. The streets hum with the news that Leth's wife, the beautiful young Queen, Issul, has vanished. Upon the Crosswood Road, so rumour has it, a