In three quick steps Craig was beside him—jamming the fire-gun against his fat belly; shoving him back on his own tracks into the building; slamming and bolting the door behind them.
Fear flared in the fat man's button eyes. His blubbery face went slack.
"Quiet!" Craig stabbed the pistol against him harder. "One sound and I kill you!"
The other's mouth worked, but no words came. He tottered backward and slumped down onto a bench.
Craig opened the door a crack and shot a quick glance out.
The raiders were leaving Notal's shop now. They dragged a captive with them, a short, balding man whose face showed the wrinkles of age.
Craig turned back to his own prisoner. "Who is that?"
The fat man's voice shook: "He is called ... Tumek."
Tumek....
A chill shook Craig Nesom.