The Mirror of Her Dreams (52 page)

Almost at once, they heard running feet.

He was undismayed. Still grinning, he drew her into a side passage and along a different route back towards the inhabited levels of the castle. With apparent ease, he avoided encountering the guards. In a shorter time than she was expecting, he brought her to the tower where her rooms were.

By then, she had recovered at least some grasp on the situation.

Artagel had saved her life. Because Geraden had asked him to keep an eye on her. Now he was taking her away from a session with the grim Castellan, in which she would have to lie and lie and lie to protect Master Eremis, Prince Kragen, and the lords of the Cares. She should have started thinking about gratitude some time ago.

Off the top of her head, she couldn't imagine many ways to thank Artagel effectively. At least one small one was clear to her, however. So far, they had been fortunate: they hadn't been seen closely enough to expose the mess which blood and dirty water made of her clothes. But to reach her rooms she would have to pass within arm's reach of the .guards outside her door-

At the foot of the stairway, she stopped and disengaged her arm. A bit awkwardly-she wasn't accustomed to making decisions in this way, with a tall, strong man smiling at her quizzically-she explained, 'I can make it alone from here. We've been lucky so far. I don't think you want to be seen with me.'

He cocked an amused eyebrow, 'I don't, my lady?' The events of the evening hadn't seriously ruffled his self-confidence. 'Well, I admit you aren't as clean as you should be. But I don't choose my friends on the basis of accidents like that.' He chuckled. 'If I did, poor Geraden would be at the bottom of my list.'

His smile was disarming, but she persisted. That's not what I meant. The guards are going to notice'-she twisted her mouth in disgust-'the way I look. And someone is going to realize that a woman covered with blood must have something to do with all those dead men. If you're seen with me, you'll be implicated.

'I know you aren't worried about that. But you should be. How are you going to explain it to the Castellan?'

He was unpersuaded: Lebbick didn't worry him. And she couldn't ask him to lie, either for herself or for Master Eremis. So she shifted to a different argument. 'Do you know what he did to Geraden the last time he caught him trying to give me independent protection?'

At that, Artagel frowned thoughtfully. 'You have a point, my lady. He tried to explain why he doesn't trust the guards, but I didn't understand all of it. It had something to do with the orders King Joyse gave the Castellan? Or the way he interprets those orders?' He shrugged. 'Geraden has always had a subtler mind than I do. Is it true that the guards don't even ask where you're going when you leave your rooms?'

Terisa felt a new touch of panic. So she wasn't imagining it: the guards
did
treat Geraden differently from the other people who came for her. She nodded mutely.

That doesn't make sense,' Artagel commented. Then he shook his frown away. 'But I'm sure it will eventually. That's Geraden's only fault. I mean, aside from clumsiness. He's too impatient. Things always make sense eventually, if you don't think about them too hard.'

Smiling again, he added, 'But you're right. I don't want to get him in any more trouble. I'll leave you here.' For a moment, his expression grew sober. 'I'm still going to keep an eye on you. I take him seriously when he's that worried. And this time he has good reason. The High King's Monomach is training his Apts better than he used to. If you need me, I'll usually be somewhere nearby.'

He put on a jaunty grin. With a graceful and humorous bow, he saluted her. 'Rest well, my lady.' Then he strode away.

She smiled at his departing back. As soon as he was gone, however, she began to shiver again, as if she had brought the chill of the lower levels up with her. Shock and reaction were setting in.

She was alone. She would have no defence if more men in black appeared suddenly out of nowhere to attack her.

She was going to have to face Castellan Lebbick by herself.

She wanted to sit down. Her knees felt too weak to hold her. But she put her feet on the stairs and forced her legs to take her upward.

When the guards at her door caught sight of her, they became immediately tense with concern. One of them said, 'My lady, are you all right? Do you need any help?'

She couldn't meet their eyes. As firmly as possible, she said, 'No, thanks. I'm fine.'

Trying not to hurry, she went into her rooms. At once, she bolted the door. Then she checked to be sure that the entrance to the secret passage was still blocked.

After that, she kicked her moccasins away and flung off her clothes in a rush of revulsion, alarm, and determination, unable to bear the touch of drying blood against her skin any longer.

First she took a bath, splashing icy water over herself as though she thought she could sting or shock herself into being brave enough for what she had to do. Next she scrubbed her clothes thoroughly, almost brutally, and set them out to dry in front of the fire.

She intended to be ready for Castellan Lebbick when he came.

But she couldn't stop trembling.

He came early the next morning, a barely polite interval after she had finished breakfast. She was wearing her dove-grey gown because a cowardly instinct told her it would make her look more vulnerable, less deserving of abuse. But she met him in her sitting room as bravely as she could.

As always, he wore the symbols of his office-the purple band around his cropped grey hair, the purple sash over one shoulder across his mail. But his real authority was expressed in the glare of his eyes, the stiff swagger of his movements, the thrust of his jaw. If he had held no position in Orison at all, he would still have commanded the room when he entered it.

'My lady.' His tone was as subtle as an iron bar. 'I trust you slept well after your adventures last night.'

She was determined to lie to him. It would have been better to face him squarely, but that great display of courage was beyond her. After all, she had never lied to an angry man in her life. 'What adventures?' She cursed herself for sounding so small and weak; but perhaps that would work to her advantage in the end.

Castellan Lebbick, however, appeared to be unsympathetic towards small, weak women. 'Don't be coy with me, my lady. I do my duty under a number of disadvantages, but stupidity isn't among them.'

'I'm not being coy.' That was true, at any rate. She was doing everything in her power to refrain from running into the next room and hiding under the bed. Or from blurting out the truth. 'I went out with Master Eremis. I came back alone. We didn't have any adventures. You can ask him. He'll tell you the same thing.'

'My lady'-he feigned a tiredness which didn't show in his eyes-'I have no taste for manure this morning. Whatever you were doing, my night was longer than yours, and when I went to my bed it was cold. Do me the courtesy of being honest.'

Her resolve was crumbling: she could feel it. The promises she had made to herself were all very well-but what did any of this have to do with her? Her father hadn't raised her to be strong. 'I
am
being honest,' she said without conviction, already flinching in anticipation of his retort.

It came quickly. 'Dogshit! You haven't spoken a true word since you arrived. By the stars, woman, you will answer me! The Armigite came squalling out of the abandoned foundations of Orison-where he never should have been in the first place- and insisted there was a battle going on. Naturally, he had no idea who was involved. He has rotten fruit for brains. But an investigation was required, so it was done. We found two men dead-Prince Kragen's bodyguards, by some towering coincidence-and enough blood for a small war. But we found no explanation.'

For two or three heartbeats, her mind went completely blank.
Two
men dead? There should have been six. Four Cadwals. She was on the verge of crying out, I'm sorry I didn't mean it it wasn't my fault.
What happened to the four Cadwals?

Fortunately, Lebbick didn't pause. 'I questioned Prince Kra-gen. He put on righteous indignation and accused
someone
of having his men murdered.
Someone,
he said, wants to provoke a war.
Someone'-
the Castellan's reference to King Joyse was unmistakable-'wants to be sure he returns to Alend with every conceivable provocation. On top of that, those bodyguards were
friends
of his.'

He clenched his fists. 'My lady, I know how to get the truth from men like him. Some of the old engines of torture have been preserved. Unfortunately, he's an ambassador. I can't touch him.

'You are another matter.'

Abruptly, her head cleared. She didn't become less afraid; but a sense of urgency made what she was thinking sharp and precise. Four bodies were missing. Someone had taken them. Probably in the same way her attacker had vanished. So Castellan Lebbick didn't know there were Cadwals in Orison. He had no inkling of the truth. Master Eremis was safe. Artagel was safe. If she didn't lose her nerve.

Her voice was almost steady as she asked, 'You mean you're going to torture me?'

Instead of answering directly, he snarled, 'After my discussion with Prince Kragen, imagine my surprise when I learned that you had returned
alone'
-his tone was pure vitriol-'from your supper with Master Eremis and the mediator of the Congery- and that you were covered with blood.'

He cocked his fists on his hips. 'Do you want me to believe that Prince Kragen's bodyguards killed each other in a contest for your affections? Will you ask me to credit that you
happened
to wander down to that part of Orison-and you
happened
to find those two bodies in all the miles of corridors down there- and you
happened
to slip and fall while their blood was still warm -all by the most monumental coincidence? No, my lady. I won't have it. You returned here alone and covered with blood. But you told no one what had happened, when the common sense of a small dog would have led you to report it to the guards. Therefore you want to keep what happened secret. You have something to hide. I'll have
that,
my lady.'

The lash of his outrage brought up an unexpected anger from among the secrets of her heart. How much sarcasm was she expected to swallow in one lifetime? 'Your guards must have been mistaken,' she retorted. 'Maybe the shadows fooled them. Or maybe they were half asleep. I wasn't covered with blood. I've never been down there. I don't know what you're talking about.'

When she was done, she wanted to give out a crow of joy which would announce to the world what she had achieved.

But the Castellan behaved as if she hadn't spoken-or as if he hadn't heard her. Lowering his voice until it sounded like the thongs of a flail being stroked between eager fingers, he said, 'I'm the Castellan of Orison and commander of the King's forces in Mordant. Do you wonder how I came to this high position? It's simple. Midway through his wars for Mordant's freedom, King Joyse found me prisoner in the stockade of an Alend garrison near the borders of the Care of Termigan. I was hardly more than a boy, but I had been wed'-his throat knotted-'for nearly ten days. Our families were farmers and peasants of Termigan, and those folk wed early. So I had been a married man for ten days-and of those ten I had spent six in the stockade. As it happened, the garrison commander had ridden across my little farm, noticed my wife, and taken a fancy to her. Because I was foolish enough to resist, I was imprisoned.

'But I wasn't mistreated. No harm was done to me.' He bared his teeth. 'I was merely held spectator, so that I had to watch the great variety of things which were done to my wife, by the commander as well as most of the garrison.

Then King Joyse surprised the garrison. We were released.'

The Castellan's voice sank as he spoke. 'When he observed the zeal with which I took revenge upon the commander, he gave me work which would put that zeal to good use. And when I displayed a talent for that work, I rose in his service.

'Now he has lost his mind'-Lebbick was barely whispering- 'and it's my duty to preserve his life and power for the day when he may recover himself and need everything he entrusted to me. Don't tell me any lies, my lady. If you don't give me the truth, I'll tear it out of you.'