dragon archives 04 - dance with a dragon (34 page)

Rupert had refused Cameleus’s welcome, preferring to remain close to the action, but rumors were rife in the camp of his increasingly tyrannical manner and merciless vengeance against any who crossed him. It had not gone unnoticed amongst the soldiers that he felt nothing about risking the lives of his men, sending them into situations that were essentially suicide missions, then dismissing the numbers lost with barely a nod. Discontent was rife within the camp, and fights between the men were not uncommon. The stocks and posts were filled each day with men being punished for some infraction or other, and the smiths were kept busy making locks and chains to keep pace with the punishments.

For Anna, just the mention of Rupert’s name made her tremble with rage. He had sent Garrick into a battle for which he was not trained, knowing that his chances of survival were slim. And all for what? To revenge himself on Anna? She had not seen him since before that day, but she smiled grimly at the thought of someone burying a dagger in his chest.

But he was the army commander, and brother to the king, and the day Max left for Storbrook, Rupert arrived at the house, demanding to see Alfred at once. Anna did not see him arrive, but everyone in the house could hear the ruckus he made as he marched into the hall, and the book Anna held in her hand trembled as her grip around it tightened.

“I don’t care what he is doing,” Rupert shouted at the footman who had answered the call. “Find him and bring him to me. Now!”

Anna felt a roaring in her ears, and rising to her feet, she walked to the window, placing her forehead against the cool glass. She saw Matilda cast a disinterested glance her way as she threw down the sheet of paper in her hand. Their departure was set for just two days hence, and the page contained a list of items still to be attended to before they started their journey.

“I will be very glad to leave this place,” Matilda said, leaning her head back against her chair. “Although, I would be more content knowing that Roderick was firmly back on his throne.”

“I don’t think the people here want him back,” Blanche said.

Matilda’s head shot up. “Nonsense,” she said sharply. “Of course they do. They have been led astray by Terran’s smooth talk and empty promises, but mark my words, there will be rejoicing when Roderick is king once more.”

Anna glanced away. She was quite in agreement with Blanche, but there was no point voicing that opinion to the queen. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a maid shake out a gown. Their clothes had been washed and ironed in preparation for their long journey home, and all that remained was to stow them in the trunks. Without the army to slow them down, they would cover the distance back home in twice the speed, but it would still be many weeks before they were back in their own chambers. Anna wondered how her canaries were faring. She had left them in the care of one of the maids, and she missed their bright chirping.

“Someone needs to remind the stables to clean and oil my saddle before we leave,” Matilda said. She rose to her feet and glanced out the door. “Where are those guards when you need them?” She pulled back into the room and looked around, her eyes roving over Kathleen, who quickly looked down at the work in her lap, before stopping on Anna. “Go and tell them in the stables that my saddle must be well oiled,” she said.

Anna nodded. She was quite certain the stables knew what to do with a saddle, but she was glad of a task to engage herself in. “Yes, my lady,” she said.

She left the room and strode along the passage. The corridors were dark, the stone worn to a smooth surface by the passing of many feet. It was a large house, three storeys tall. At the main entrance to the house was a wide staircase which split the house into two wings. To the right an arched doorway opened into the hall. Behind the hall ran a narrow passageway which led to the study and a parlor. On the left side of the house was another arched doorway, but a screen barred entry, and the rooms beyond were bare. Like many large houses, it had been built atop a small hill, with the main front entrance at a higher level than the back of the house, where a small staircase led to the lower level where the kitchens and storage rooms were located. These led out to the courtyard behind the house.

On the second floor, as with the main floor, the rooms to the left were closed off and left unused. When Anna asked a maid about it, she explained that Cameleus’s children were all grown and married; when his wife died, leaving him alone, he had ordered the second wing closed, feeling that the house was too large for the use of just one man. The rooms were empty, the maid explained, except for a few pieces of broken furniture.

Anna walked along the upstairs corridor, down the stairs and into the narrow passage behind the hall. It ran past the parlor, and as she drew close, she saw that the door had been left ajar. The king and his brother were within, and their voices, raised in anger, spilled through the open door. She paused, considering her options. She had no desire to eavesdrop on the conversation, but if she walked past, they would see her and might think she had been listening.

“You are a fool,” she heard Rupert saying as she drew herself against the wall, and slowly slid one foot behind the other.

“Terran wants to negotiate terms, and you would continue fighting,” Alfred shot back. “How many men have we lost already, Rupert? And for what? To gain a throne for Roderick?” Anna held her breath, sliding backwards an inch at a time.

“You thought it was a good enough cause a few months ago,” Rupert sneered.

“Aye, that I did, because you assured me that Terran was weak, and did not have the backing of his people. It turns out you were wrong on both counts.”

“So you would turn tail and run now because of a few losses. A strong leader would stay the course, Alfred.” Anna froze when she heard Rupert’s voice grow louder. He stopped near the door, but a moment later was pacing away again.

“What do you know about being a strong leader? You take what you want without regard for anyone but yourself.”

“You are nothing but a weakling,” Rupert said. “You do not deserve to wear the crown.”

“Think what you will, Rupert, but I am your king, and you will do as I say.” There was the sound of someone dropping heavily into a chair. “I have considered Terran’s request to parley, and have decided to meet him on the morrow. I will invite him to meet us here, and you will join us.” There was a long moment of silence.

“If you are intent on doing this,” Rupert said, his voice speculative, “then we should meet him at his court. Ask him to send some men to escort us.” Anna paused at the words. She had already moved a few feet from the door. Just a little further and she could turn and walk away without fear of discovery.

“Why?” Alfred’s voice was filled with suspicion.

“It will demonstrate your faith and goodwill.” There was another moment of silence.

“What are you up to?”

“Is it not good leadership to flatter your enemy, while forcing your own demands? Tell Terran that as king and leader of this land, he should not have to travel into the countryside to confer with us.” There was another moment of silence, and Anna could imagine Alfred slowly nodding his head.

“I will think about it. Now go.” Anna quickly scurried backwards, but Rupert marched out of the room before she could get beyond sight of the door. She turned and ran down the corridor, but no sooner had Rupert slammed the heavy wooden door shut than he was behind her, his hand grabbing her arm and swinging her around against the wall. She cried out when her arm hit the stones.

“What are you doing here?” he hissed. “You are eavesdropping so you can report back to Terran and his spies.”

“What? No! I was going to the stables with a message from the queen.”

Rupert laughed dryly. “Stables? For the queen? Is that the best you can come up with?” He leaned closer. “You are a spy and a traitor. One of the guards saw you with a dragon. And I did admire the way you made it seem as though you had been abducted by Syngen Gail, when all along you had planned to meet with him and pass along our plans.”

Anna glared at him, twisting and turning in an effort to free herself from his grasp. “Is that the best
you
can come up with?” she said. “What plans could I possibly discover that would make such a deception of value to him?”

“Your lover was passing information along to you,” he replied. “I heard he died. Took a blow to the stomach.”

“Let me go,” she growled. There were footsteps in the distance, growing closer, and she glanced in the direction of the sound. But her heart sank when she saw Frank striding towards them, his eyebrows drawn together in a frown.

“Your Highness,” he said to Rupert, “is everything all right?” Rupert glanced down at Anna, then pulling her away from the wall, thrust her towards Frank.

“This woman is a traitor,” he said. “Take her to the west wing and lock her in one of the empty rooms. I will deal with her later.”

Frank nodded. “Yes, Your Highness,” he said.

“Oh, and make sure she is bound and gagged,” Rupert added. “We don’t want people thinking we have bagged ourselves a witch.”

Frank grinned. “Yes, Your Highness. It will be my pleasure.” He wrapped his hand around Anna’s arm. “I always knew you were a traitor,” he said to her. She scowled at him, but kept silent as he dragged her down the hall, along the empty corridors and into the west wing.

It was clear that that part of the house had been closed up for years. The passages were coated in a thick layer of dust, and the room at the far end of the passage that Frank pushed her into was dark and damp. The shutters hung askew from the open window, and the broken bed had become a nest for breeding mice. Frank glanced around the room with a look of disgust, then looked back at Anna. “Not what you are used to, but it will have to do.” There was a pile of linen in the corner, moldy and chewed, but Frank lifted one of the sheets, and finding a piece that still looked fairly intact, ripped it into long strips. She winced when he pulled her wrists behind her back, and he gave her a look of sympathy.

“Can’t have you trying to escape, now can we?” he said as bound her hands with a strip of linen. He glanced at her mouth, then down at the strips in his hands. “If I leave you ungagged, will you promise not to scream out the window?”

“I cannot promise anything,” Anna said, “but I’m sure I won’t have to resort to screaming out the window. The queen will soon hear what has happened, and it won’t be long before she sees me released.”

Frank nodded. “If I hear a squeak, I will be back with enough gags to choke you.” He checked the knots around her wrists one more time and left the room. The key creaked as it turned in the lock, sliding the bolt into place, and Frank’s footsteps grew fainter as he walked away.

Chapter 44

Anna looked around the room she had been locked into. It was once a bedchamber, but all that remained of the furnishings were the mice-ridden bed and a broken stool. One look at the bed was enough to convince her that she did not want to be anywhere near it. She sank down to the floor, turning her face into her shoulder as the dust rose from the floor and settled over her. Had Matilda noticed her absence yet? Had Rupert informed the king of her arrest? Alfred would not believe the ludicrous charges against her, she was sure of that. She leaned her head against the wall and watched as a spider scurried across an exposed rafter then swung to the corner of the room, leaving a fine, glistening thread trailing behind it.

She pulled her knees up to her chest, and waited.

It was a long time before she heard the sound of returning footsteps. The door was pulled open, and Frank stepped inside, a steaming plate of roasted meat and vegetables in his hand. He placed it on the floor, and crouching before her, loosened the bonds holding her wrists together. Anna’s arms were numb, and it took a moment before she could move them again, but slowly the feeling began to return. She took the plate held out to her, and looked up at Frank.

“I’m not guilty of treason,” she said.

Frank shrugged. “Your actions would suggest otherwise.”

Anna sighed. “What did the queen say?”

Frank glanced away. “She hasn’t been told.”

Anna looked up at him in surprise. “Why not? What does she think has happened to me?”

Frank rose to his feet. “I am not privy to the prince’s thoughts,” he said. “As for your disappearance, I overheard Lady Blanche say you had run away with your lover.”

“What?” The fork slipped from Anna’s grasp and clattered to the plate. “What lover? Master Garrick is dead!”

“Not Garrick. Max Brant.”

“Ah!” The memory of Blanche sneering words about Max carrying her back to camp came flooding back. “She would say that,” Anna said, lifting the fork and taking a mouthful of food. It was hot, for which she was grateful.

“Yes, well, I didn’t suspect you of
that
,” Frank said dryly.

“Has the queen sent anyone to look for me?” she asked.

“No.”

Anna nodded. The food was sticking in her throat, and suddenly she was unable to eat. She handed the plate back to Frank. He took it without meeting her gaze and left the room in silence. He returned a short while later with a quilt in his hand, which he threw at her without a word, before leaving once more. He had left her hands untied – by accident or design, she wasn’t sure.

The shadows in the room grew longer as the sun dropped towards the horizon. Soon it would be dark, and she would be alone with the mice. But she did not expect to remain that long. As soon as Alfred heard of her imprisonment she would be released. He knew that Aaron would not look kindly on his sister-in-law being imprisoned on trumped-up charges.

She sat with her head against the wall, waiting. The stone was hard and cold, and after a while she rose to her feet and started pacing the room. Why was it taking so long for Alfred to set her free? The minutes ticked by, and she sat once again, drawing the quilt around her shoulders. It was growing darker in the room, and she wished someone would come to release her from this prison. She could not believe Alfred had left her for so long. She rose to her feet and walked over to the window. The room she was in overlooked the courtyard, three storeys below. What if Rupert had not told his brother what he had done? What if Rupert did not intend to tell him at all? Frank was the only other person who knew where she was, and he already believed her guilty of the crimes of which she had been accused. Would he think it strange if Rupert instructed him to remain silent about what happened? Would she be able to convince Frank to involve the king?