The Quest (The Sons of Camelot Book 2) (7 page)

As they drew closer to Gryme’s Dyke, John couldn’t help thinking that once they went beyond that boundary, they would be in a strange, savage and dark world; a world with death waiting around every corner or within the thick fog. With a heavy sigh, he attempted to put on the inner armor that strengthened him for what lay ahead.

***

It took Dunmor and three of his brothers all night to track down Sir Jofrit and in the end, it was the scent of Guerrero’s droppings that led the Picts to the hollowed out ditch they were hiding in.

Jofrit had found a gully that ran parallel to the high road but was roughly an eight-foot drop from that level… no doubt a remnant of the road’s Roman construction, now reduced to a tactical component. Trees which seemed to line the road above were actually rooted in the ditch and overstretched to shade the thoroughfare. Erosion had created deep cuts in the ditch walls, which were perfect for hiding in and the thick foliage of the underbrush and shrubbery created excellent camouflage. He stood Guerrero up against the inside of a deep cut out and stood with his back against the horse.

They would have easily been able to pass a day and half a night undetected in their hideout but during the flight to get away from the Pictmen, Jofrit had not realized that his horse had left quite a trail of dung behind them.

Dunmor and his brothers passed by the hiding place several times by way of the elevated roadway but once they had turned their search to the woods, it hadn’t been long before they picked up the trail and captured Jofrit.

He remained bound, hand and foot, and on his belly over Guerrero’s saddle for the rest of the journey, only being pulled down at night when he was fettered by the neck to a post in the camp.

For ten days, they traveled through the Cairngorms, skirting the foothills of Ben Macdui and then on to Braemar. When they entered the village, Jofrit saw only more of the same of what they had encountered in each settlement since they had set out across the great forested mountain range. Wattle and daub huts surrounded by thickets and post fencing which served to keep livestock penned in around the tiny dwellings. The village stank of animal excrement and tanned animal hides. Smokey fires were burning at scattered intervals with women cooking food for their families and boiling water for domestic use. A blacksmith’s forge stood at the end of what looked like a communal stable and a long wooden building stood in the center of it all serving as a mess hall and meeting place.

They rested in the great hall that night and once again Jofrit was tethered to a post like an animal. A girl brought a bowl of gruel and meat for him and patiently spooned each bite into his mouth until it was finished. She brought him a water skin and allowed him to drink his fill before retiring to her other duties.

It was obvious that his captors planned to celebrate that night but before Jofrit knew it, he was fast asleep on the straw that had been scattered at the foot of the post for him to sleep on.

The next morning, the girl woke him up before the others had risen from their cots. She brought him a bucket of warmed water, a cloth and a tiny piece of soap for him to wash with. When he was finished, she returned with clean clothing which she had taken from among his traveling bags and told him to get dressed.

When the men awoke, they wasted no time preparing to be on their way again. This time, Sir Jofrit was not bound like a carcass and thrown over his horse’s saddle. Instead, he was allowed to sit upright in it but his legs were shackled together by means of manacles that ran under Guerrero’s belly and his bound hands were tied to the horn of the saddle. The horse’s reins were firmly in the grip of one of Dunmor’s brothers, whose job it was to lead Sir Jofrit and Guerrero the rest of the way.

Chapter Nine

Nimueh was pleased to hear the commotion that was erupting outside the crystal cave as the others watched Dunmor and his Pict men approaching in the distance. She rubbed her hands together as if they were cold, but they weren’t. She was just pleased to see her plan taking some shape and making some real progress finally.

Cerebus sensed her approval and moved closer to offer his head for petting. He had found life with Nimueh quite satisfying and rather leisurely. She took care of him, provided more than enough food for him to eat and let him loose to roam the countryside every now and then. He found he enjoyed not being a mount and beast of burden to an ungrateful and often cruel drow such as Erandur was.

Nimueh, in turn, benefitted from having the enormous hell hound at her side. He was intimidating to say the least. Smaller creatures, even if they were more spiteful than she was, never seemed to step out of place when Cerebus was present. They had seen him snap of the head of a sprite or two, even when he was unprovoked. It helped to keep the little rascals in line without her even having to try.

She patted his head and stroked his fur as she waited for Dunmor’s arrival.

Soon, the Pict men led Sir Jofrit into the cave on Guerrero. The horse was stopped in front of Nimueh’s crystal throne so she could have a good view of her captive knight. Dunmor wanted her to see that he had done as he was charged to do and delivered the man and his mount to her unharmed and whole.

He hadn’t even gone through Jofrit’s things and besides allowing the servant girl to retrieve a change of clothing for the man, he hadn’t allowed anyone to ransack the bags. Dunmor threw the three packs of supplies down onto the cave floor in front of Nimueh’s chair so she could inspect their wholeness for herself.

Being afraid of a woman was never something Dunmor allowed himself to do but he couldn’t deny that Lady Nimueh struck the fear of his ancestors into him. Every time he decided that the best course of action was not to cross her, he reminded himself that it was because she was a powerful witch who could wound him gravely or kill him if she wished; not just a pretty woman.

But pretty she was nonetheless.

Dunmor and his brothers, being the only humans in Nimueh’s presence, were probably the most aware of her enchanting good looks but they also knew better than to show too much appreciation for it.

As Nimueh stood up to approach the knight in front of her, she couldn’t take her eyes off his mount. The silvery stallion mesmerized her with its beauty and strength and she couldn’t help but to reach up and stroke its head.

“He reminds me of so many beautiful things from my past,” she said to no one in particular. Then she faced Sir Jofrit and asked, “What is his name and where did you get such a fantastic beast?”

Being the ever gracious knight that he was, Jofrit of Leeds answered Lady Nimueh’s questions with poise and grace.

“Milady, his name is Guerrero. I brought him from Spain as a young foal along with another stallion that resembles him exactly. They are somewhat of a matched pair; twins to be precise.”

Nimueh was intrigued. Twins which were both born alive and healthy and then continued to thrive and grow well was quite rare with horses and twins that were the same in appearance, even more so. They would have been a pair fit for a king and queen from the looks of the animal that stood before her.

“He has the nimble and delicate traits that go with the blood of the desert horses from the lands south of the Aegean Sea,” Nimueh said confidently as she grasped the knuckles and patted the flanks of Guerrero’s legs.

“You know much about horses and geography, Milady. That is quite impressive.”

Nimueh stopped her assessment of the horse for a moment and looked Sir Jofrit in the eye. She positioned herself attractively and exaggerated the movements of her arms and upper body. In a few moments, she saw what she thought she had heard in his voice. She had seen that look before. Many years ago, a sorcerer by the name of Merlin had looked at her like that.

Well, in the beginning, he had looked at her like that… then it had turned into an aggravating, incessant mooning that made her sick to her stomach and finally, it had become a look of complete shock and horror as she had used his own magic to imprison him inside a crystal alcove inside that very cave.

It was a look of intrigue, admiration, desire. She had used it against Merlin to get what she wanted from him and she would do the same to Sir Jofrit of Leeds.

“Dunmor! Is this any way to treat our distinguished guest? Why has he remained chained in my presence for so long?”

The Pict man sprang forward to undo the rope and manacles that had kept Sir Jofrit secured to the horse and helped the man down from the saddle. As he stepped back to where his brothers were, Dunmor wasn’t quite sure what was going on between Jofrit and Nimueh but he was sure that he didn’t like one bit of it.

“Come, Sir Jofrit,” Nimueh said. “Sit with me.”

When she said that, Nimueh waved her hand over the empty spot to the right of her crystal chair and a matching one rose from the platform for her guest.

“They were just about to serve some supper.”

***

“We must capture that imp,” Merlin ordered as they were approaching the earthen mound that stretched for as far as the eye could see in either direction. There, a creature, the nature of which John had never seen before, scurried off the mound and then ran into a trench.

“Thomas and I will ride ahead and try to cut him off; the rest of you stay behind him so he doesn’t double back!” John responded, putting the spurs to Ganador.

“I’ll cast a spell so he doesn’t take flight!” Merlin called after him.

In general, the imp behaved more like a game bird, running and dodging along the trench. It put Ganador and all of the other mounts to the test to run down the creature and close in around it. It screeched, hissed and wailed at them, beating its wings frantically, but unable to lift itself from the ground. As the circle closed in tighter, it finally stopped trying to escape, but circled warily; its wide eyes watching each of them in turn.

“We mean you no harm, imp,” Merlin said. “These aren’t the kind of men who eat your kind.”

“There are certainly none among you who smells of the kind who does,” the imp hissed, turning to watch Alpina closely.

“We’ll not be dining on your flesh this day,” Merlin responded. “Although you look to be fattened up and would certainly be savory on the tongue.”

“What do you want with me then, wizard?” His attention was upon Alpina, even as he spoke to Merlin.

“No names, no news,” the imp retorted.

“Yes, it is customary, but, as of yet, you haven’t introduced yourself. You’ve forgotten that protocol, no doubt?”

“One’s dinner isn’t often introduced before having its head hacked off.”

“You are to be no one’s dinner,” Merlin reassured. “Come on then, out with it, what is your name?”

“I am called Tiki Tok,” the imp finally responded. “I am not the watchman of the dyke.”

“To whom do you report?” Merlin asked. “To Gryme?”

“Of course, everyone reports directly to Gryme,” Tiki Tok replied. “I report to Tim Tam. Now, do me the honor of introducing yourselves or I will be forced to speak freely.”

“This is Sir John of Leeds, Sir Thomas of Manchester, Lady Alpina of Auchavan and…” He waved a hand toward each of them in turn as he made the introductions, but was cut off when he got to Alpina.

“Auchavan,” Tiki Tok responded. “It’s certain that none of my kin have fattened the bellies of those at Auchavan.”

“I’ve no interest in dining upon your flesh today,” Alpina responded with a wicked smile. She was enjoying the moment a little too much.

The statement satisfied Tiki Tok, but he still kept one eye upon her as Merlin continued with the introductions.

“We also have Chatburn, the squire of Sir John and Dufton, the squire of Sir Thomas,” Merlin finished. “And I am the wizard known as Merlin.”

“Merlin?” he gasped. “Your power is unknown in these parts and untried, but it would be an honor to have you do me harm.”

“I’ve done all the harm I intend to do by preventing you from taking wing,” Merlin answered. “If you will lie to us honestly, then no further harm will come.”

John was a little bit confused about Merlin’s last statement. He wasn’t sure how one lied honestly.

“So, Tim Tam,” Merlin began.

“I believe that he said his name is Tiki Tok,” John said, interrupting the wizard.

“Of course he did,” Merlin responded. “It was an honest lie. His real name is Tim Tam.”

John shrugged and decided to stay out of the way.

“What do you think of this day?” Merlin asked.

“It was a miserable day up until the likes of you came along, but it’s gotten brighter,” Tim Tam responded. “It would be a delight to be eaten.”

“Very good,” Merlin responded. “Have you any news from the north, near Inverness and the like?”

“I never have news from the north,” Tim Tam answered. “South, east and west, but never from the north.”

“No doubt that news was happy news to the likes of you,” Merlin continued.

“It was the gravest news,” Tim Tam smiled.

“Was it of Sir Jofrit of Camelot?”

“Never heard of Sir Jofrit nor of Camelot, but it was the gravest news, indeed.” Tim Tam held back a laugh that threatened to burst from him.

John wrinkled his brow as he tried to understand the conversation that was taking place between the imp and Merlin. None of it made sense to him.

“Did he enter into the Cairngorms?” Merlin asked.

“He never entered the Cairngorms and was never frozen in a block of ice,” the imp responded, still smiling, though better able to control himself.

“It is a friend of yours who has him, then?”

“Nimueh is no friend of mine,” Tim Tam replied.

“It is Nimueh who has sealed Sir Jofrit in a block of ice, then?” Merlin asked.

“I know nothing of this Nimueh, nor of your Sir Jofrit. She would never have put him in a block of ice,” the imp answered.

“Do you know where Nimueh is keeping Sir Jofrit in his frozen state?” Merlin asked.

“I know exactly the place,” the imp answered, scratching his sparsely haired head.

“You will report none of this to Tiki Tok,” Merlin warned. “If you do, I’ll make certain to send Alpina’s family here to find their next Sunday’s dinner.”

“I’ll tell Tiki Tok every word of our conversation. It would be an honor to be dinner for such a fine family.”

“Shouldn’t we press him further?” John asked. “He says that he knows the exact location.”

“It would do no good,” Merlin answered. “He doesn’t know where your father is being held.”

“But he just…” John stopped when Merlin raised his hand to stop him.

“Very well, then,” Merlin said. “You have use of your wings, if you wish to fly away.”

“I’ve no wish to fly away. I’d rather be eaten,” Tim Tam responded before flapping his wings frantically and disappearing into a treetop nearby. From above, he called out to them. “It was certainly a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“We’ll be on our way, then,” Merlin said, turning his horse to follow the trench back to the road they’d been following before pursuing the imp.

John and the others followed along behind Merlin until they reached the road. Silent confusion registered on all of their faces. It wasn’t until they were a mile or so north of the wall that Merlin began to bring relief to their confusion.

“Sir Jofrit, I’m afraid to tell you,” Merlin began, “has been frozen in a block of ice by a very powerful sorceress by the name of Nimueh. However, our imp had no idea of the exact place that he is being held, though we can be assured that it is to the north in the Cairngorms.”

“Please excuse my contradiction, Merlin,” John replied. “But how were you able to deduce that from the conversation that we just witnessed? For instance, didn’t he say that he knew exactly where my father was being held?”

“He’s an imp, my dear Sir John,” Merlin chuckled. “He must always lie.”

“So, how can you believe anything that he said?” John asked.

“You can believe him by asking questions in a certain way that will make him give you the answers in reverse,” Merlin grinned. “If the imp lies honestly, then you can count on anything that he says being the opposite of what really is.”

John had no response. He tried to sort through the conversation once more inside his mind. All it did was confuse him.

“That was a wicked joke that you played on him, Lady Alpina,” Merlin laughed.

“Do you think that he believed me?” Alpina laughed.

“I don’t know, but he sure kept a close eye on you.” Merlin continued laughing and then tried to explain to his confused companions what Alpina had done.

Finally catching on to the joke, John turned to look back at Alpina. “Would you actually eat such a creature?”

“Of course I would,” she burst out. “They are delicious. Consider chicken in a rich pear sauce.”