Captivity (3 page)

Dominic would suspect that anyway, no matter
what was done to the women, but I could shield my thoughts a little
now with my slight returning strength. If I could convince Reynaldo
not to harm the women, it might be a hopeful sign, that ransom, not
torture or murder, was the real as well as the professed goal.

The bandit leader was smart, if unstable. His
intelligence was apparent in his every thought, along with the
insanity that growing up with his untrained gift, motherless among
outlaws, had inevitably produced. My words made sense to him, but
he must have his fun with me before giving in.

“And the men?” Reynaldo asked. “What will
your lord husband think if we spare them?” He signaled to the
bandits who had been holding our guards down all this time, and
they increased the pressure on vulnerable throats. The guards
struggled, clawing at the booted feet and scrabbling on the ground
with frantic hands. “Won’t he think we are weak?”

My mind, too, worked frantically to know what
answer would make any impression. Bad enough to get Wilmos, an
Aranyi man, killed by my misadventure. To cause the death of men
from another household, borrowed from a relatively poor young
neighbor, was unbearably disgraceful. Necessity inspired me. “He
will think you are very clever,” I said, “to take wife and children
without a fight. Margrave Aranyi will know not to attempt a rescue,
that he is up against a worthy opponent.” How I hated comparing
Dominic in any way to this crazy piece of filth. But it paid
off.

Reynaldo was pleased with the suggestion. He
raised a hand in an imperious gesture, shouted a command. “Release
the guards.” His men muttered in protest, but Reynaldo was in no
mood for mutiny. He stalked over to the nearest man, pushed him off
balance so that he stumbled, releasing a guard, who rose only as
far as hands and knees, unable or afraid to stand. Reynaldo did
something with his
crypta
to the disobedient bandit and the
man yelped with pain. The other three quickly released their
prisoners. There were coughs and whooping sounds as the four guards
eased their bruised throats and drew in their first free
breaths.

Reynaldo decided his men needed a warning.
“You saw what I did to the ‘Gravina,” he said. “That is nothing to
what I can do to any of you.” He stared at the bandit whom he had
pushed, and the man slunk away toward the forest. Reynaldo smiled.
“We will all have our reward, in time. Let them go, naked, back to
Margrave Aranyi. Let him see our power.” He paused, drinking in the
pleasure of anticipation. “We will have riches to buy all the women
we please, soon enough. And men, if you prefer.” He laughed,
kicking at a guard, a handsome young man who knelt in an
unconsciously suggestive pose in the road as he got his breath
back.

The bandits were still restless, but too
afraid of their leader to disobey. Reynaldo stepped over to
Katrina. She and Isobel sat their horses quietly, close together,
heads down as if they were praying. “We’ll have a look at least,”
Reynaldo said. “Come on, bitch, undress yourself, or my men will
help you, but let’s have the clothes. My own Michaela will screech
like a banshee if I bring her nothing but mouths to feed.”

He snapped his fingers and two men came over
and pulled Katrina and Isobel off their horses. Isobel cried out
with pain, holding one arm in the other, cradling what looked like
a broken wrist. She had fought Reynaldo before giving up Val to
him. The women undressed themselves down to their shifts, weeping
silently from shame. Katrina had to help Isobel remove her boots.
The nearest bandits snatched the clothes out of their hands as they
came off, cloaks, dresses and petticoats, boots and stockings, to
give to their own women. I watched, helpless. I could only hope I
had spared my women’s lives at least.

“Hurry up,” Reynaldo said. “We’ve wasted
enough time on all your ‘Graven modesty.” He pulled at Katrina’s
shift until it tore, slapped her face. I saw that violence excited
him, that he would forget any reluctant promise he had made if she
resisted.

“Katrina,” I said, “take your shift off.
Captain Reynaldo has promised not to hurt you.”

My voice cut through the incipient mood of
rape. Reynaldo blinked and took his hand away from the woman.
Katrina and Isobel removed their shifts, which quickly went the way
of their outer clothes. Underneath they wore the linen knickers, as
Jana and I did, that protect our thighs from chafing while riding
astride. Dominic considers sidesaddles an insult to good
horsemanship, and does not permit me or the household women to use
them except when pregnant or unwell.

The bandits had never seen anything like
these garments, and made many humorous comments about sexual
relations in ‘Graven households. “Women in breeches!” Reynaldo
shouted. I could sense the mix of delight and disgust at what he
and the others could interpret only as unimaginable perversion.
“Why don’t your men wear skirts?” He didn’t expect an answer. “We
might as well take the breeches too. But where I am master my women
will not wear them.” He waited while Katrina and Isobel peeled them
off, and the two bandit recipients waved their strange trophies in
the air, shouting lewd remarks.

The rest of the men ogled the naked women,
laughing and pointing, making loud suggestions of what they would
like to do. But they did none of it, and stood off as Reynaldo had
commanded.

Then it was the turn of the guards. They had
already lost their weapons, had little shame to spare for their
bodies. They stripped silently and efficiently. When they were
done, the four men and two women stood completely naked, hugging
themselves or standing listlessly at the side of the trail. I
caught the eye of Isobel, who despite her injury seemed to have
more wits about her than the rest. “Head for the Ladakh place, up
the trail,” I said, pointing. “They can send a message to Margrave
Aranyi.”

Reynaldo had mounted the lead guard’s
well-fed stallion and cantered over to me. “That’s enough, little
lady,” he said. “I’ve done what you asked. Now you’re mine. And my
women don’t speak unless I ask them a question.” He grinned at the
thought of what he had accomplished and grabbed the bridle of my
mare, which lurched forward, glad to be moving again. I had my arms
full holding Val, and in my weakened state nearly fell off. There
was no way I could ride and hold him, but I would die before I’d
hand him over to one of these murderers. I hung on grimly to Val
with one hand, the front of the saddle with the other, and waited
to drop into the mud.

My captor noticed my wobbly condition. He had
the sensitivity of the gifted and was taking pride in ownership,
trying to care for his new possessions in the haphazard way of a
child with a puppy, alert to certain realities when it suited him.
He searched the side of the trail, found the carrying pack Isobel
had taken off, and thrust it at me. “Put it on,” he said. When I
didn’t maneuver Val and my arms through the tangle of straps
quickly enough he helped, roughly, saying, “You will learn I like
instant obedience.”

Reynaldo raised his hand to slap me, and I
stared him down.
Go ahead
, I thought at him. If he hit me, I
would fall off, with Val. Then he would have to get me up and in
the saddle again, assuming we were not injured, and it would lead
to more crying and delays. Thwarted, he clenched his fist, then
raised his arm to his men in the signal to move out.

His men went back into the forest,
reappearing in a short time with their own mounts, scrawny, beaten
nags, but better than walking. A lucky few were allowed to ride the
horses appropriated from the guards and the women. They would lead
their own animals, and our one pack animal with our meager baggage.
Captain Reynaldo held on to the bridle of my horse to keep me close
to him, until all the men were assembled. A second man held Jana’s
pony, and when all was ready we set off, back on the trail in the
direction we had come.

A few yards along there was a narrow cut in
the embankment, hard to see if one were not looking for it. Single
file we plodded into it, riding steeply uphill, curving around back
and forth to climb the mountain, moving obliquely but steadily
toward the frontier of civilized territory.

The hellish ride seemed to last forever. I was near
the limit of my endurance when it began, from fear and from what
Reynaldo had done to me by taking my prism. My only chance to
replenish my strength would have been the daily solar eclipse but,
in the way of these things, today was the end of the backwards
cycle; the eclipse had come and gone early in the morning.
Tomorrow, if I lived to see it, we would have two. But for now I
must manage on my own.

We had been visiting Stefan Ormonde,
Dominic’s former
companion,
for the naming-day ceremony of
his first child. Stefan had been Dominic’s lover when we married,
and had lived with us for almost four years before leaving to marry
and set up his own household. I had watched him grow from a small,
shy boy of sixteen into a confident young husband and father. When
the invitation came to Dominic and me to act as godparents, it
encompassed our whole family, in typical Eclipsian fashion: our
children; Dominic’s current companion, Niall Galloway; Isobel to
help with Val; and my maid, Katrina. We were to spend a week or two
celebrating the happy occasion.

Toward the end of our stay, ‘Graven Assembly
had sent an urgent message for Dominic, requiring his immediate
presence for an emergency session. Dominic and Niall had had to set
off at once. It would take two full days to reach Eclipsia City,
even for men traveling light. There was no time to make the slow
detour to escort wife and family back to Aranyi. Dominic told me to
wait at Stefan’s small manor for his return, not to go home without
his protection. The thought that I would actually disobey him on
such a specific point was so far from his mind he had not
emphasized it.

I had intended to wait, of course. Only my
increasing jealousy, the hurt of seeing Dominic with a woman, had
driven me to act in this stupid fashion. Dominic is
vir:
he
loves men. I am the only woman he has ever loved. He had told me
so, often enough that I had come to believe him. Now I knew the
truth. Stefan had not been the only former lover of Dominic’s at
this little gathering. And while I had suffered in silence during
our family’s visit, I would not spend one more night than was
absolutely necessary under the same roof with this Lady Melanie
Ndoko.

Stefan and Drusilla had pleaded with me all
day yesterday as I rounded up the children’s clothes and our
belongings and set Katrina and Isobel to packing, but I had been
implacable. This morning, when they saw I would go no matter what,
Stefan had insisted I take three of his guards with me, the only
men he could spare. I had not thought we would face any serious
danger, was sure Dominic’s reputation as a swordsman and as
Commander General of the ‘Graven Coalition was such that, as
‘Gravina Aranyi, I could travel naked from one end of the Realms to
the other without fearing anything worse than goose bumps should I
be crazy enough to try it. By that time, I almost was.

Now I was forced to travel a long distance
over rough ground, with men who cared nothing for me, who were only
prevented from hurting me or killing me because of my potential
value. I had to work to stay in the saddle, my thighs quivering
with the exertion, my arms trembling to hold the reins.

My mind went into a kind of trance,
dissociating itself from my suffering body, and I rode like a
zombie, taking myself back in time to some very different rides, in
the early days of my marriage, when Dominic had decreed I was ready
to learn this skill so essential to travel on Eclipsis.

It had been late spring, early summer. Jana
was a few months old. She slept through the night now, most of the
time, nestled face to face with me in my bed. If she woke to nurse,
I could remain half-asleep, had only to help her find the nipple.
Some nights Dominic would join us in the bed, making gentle love to
me, careful not to wake his precious child or roll over on her.
Afterward he would kiss us both and, in the morning, would rise
early with Jana, taking her to Isobel to be changed, bringing her
back later, clean and fresh, to nurse again before breakfast.

One morning he made a decision. He watched me
as I fed Jana, sitting up naked in the rumpled bed, and nodded in
approval. “You must learn to ride, Amalie,” he said, as if we had
been discussing it. “You must be able to do more than cling to the
saddle, or flop around like a sack of potatoes.” He grinned at my
indignant look. “A silken sack,” taking a gentle love-bite out of
my arm, “of the most delectable,” nipping at the breast Jana wasn’t
using, “red-skinned potatoes.” He kissed my lips when I giggled at
the comparison. “But not a rider.”

There had been no arguing with him. It was
sensible, really. I had recovered from the difficult birth and was
ready for a more active life. We would travel from Aranyi to the
city for Dominic’s duties in ‘Graven Assembly and the Military
Academy and back again at least twice a year, every year, and there
was no other way to make the journey than on horseback. And if I
could learn to alleviate the miseries of cantering and trotting,
any small effort now would be worth it.

And so my lessons began. On fair days Dominic
took me out on this same little mare, first to the practice ring in
the back courtyard, where I rode around and around under Dominic’s
scrutiny. He would stand hunched in the center of the ring, or at
the outer edge, watching me carefully, eyes at the level of the
saddle, seeing into my mind, following my conscious and unconscious
acts of muscular control, my legs that were learning to grip the
sides of the horse and my hands that held the reins.