The Black Robe (The Sword and the Spell) (33 page)

The dress was different from anything she’d worn before being very low cut at the front and the back with no straps and a full skirt but without lots of material underneath to get in the way. It also felt odd and made her feel vulnerable, but it was better than what she had been wearing for the last seven day or more. She put the pendant from Leersland around her neck, eased her feet into her slippers and arranged her hair over her shoulders so that she felt a little less exposed. After that she sat on the bed waiting for someone to come for her.

When the guards returned she was ready and meekly walked between them trying to look as demure as possible until they reached one of the cream and gold doors which she recognised as being the King’s private dining room. At least that’s what it had been when Steppen was king but now, of course, it could be anything. The guard opened the door and she stepped through, relieved to find that the room was just as she remembered it. Unfortunately the person sitting at the head of the table was very different from the gracious king who had once presided over the grand dinners she had attended there.

Vorgret looked up and let the soup he’d been eating dribble over the edge of his spoon and splash back into his soup bowl. The dress he’d chosen for her was ideal; tight enough to show off her figure, but simple enough that it wouldn’t get in the way later. He ran his eyes down her body noting her slender neck, full breasts and narrow waist. She was thinner than he liked his women to be, but she had long legs which would part nicely for him. The lord who had brought the marriage proposal was right, she was beautiful. It was a pity she was a whore without a crown, she might have made a passable wife.

Tarraquin continued to smile hoping that the disgust didn’t show on her face. The man was revolting. Lord Istan had described him as well built and muscular with looks only slightly marred by a small scar gained in battle, but he was nothing like that; he was a brute. It was true that he was muscular, his arms and shoulders bulged with muscles, but those on his shoulders had swallowed his neck. He was so muscular it made his arms and legs look short so that he reminded her of one of the giant, bloated pond hoppers which croaked at night.

Then there was the scar, a puckered line of red and white which cut his face diagonally, twisting his nose and pulling his mouth down at one corner so that green soup dribbled down his chin. No wonder King Porteous had kept him hidden. If he weren’t a king she would pick up her dress and run. Instead she gave the formal bow of one monarch to another and slipped into the seat at the other end of the table.

“Your Majesty, it is good of you to receive me unannounced and I am grateful for what you have provided so that I may dress appropriately for our first meeting.”

Vorgret gave a grunt, pushed the soup away from him and stabbed one of the palm-sized roasted fowl on the platter to one side. He pulled off one of the delicate legs and sucked on it noisily. “You’re late. You should have been wed to me when the summer was young but now it’s through and winter is almost upon us. What kept you?”

Tarraquin was hungry and would have liked some of the fowl, but it was too far to reach so she settled on a small loaf of dry bread. She dipped it into a nearby bowl of reddish sauce and nearly choking as the sauce burnt a hole in her throat. “I was preparing to leave when I heard that a dear friend had been taken prisoner, so I went to see what could be done for him. When I returned King Borman had invaded Leersland and had taken my throne and I was lucky to escape with my life. Since then I have been trying to make my way to your side so that the agreement we made could be honoured and I could become your wife.”

The excuse sounded a bit lame to her and for a moment she almost hoped that he would see through the lie and tell her to get out but he didn’t. Instead he smiled and nodded in understanding. He dropped the carcass of the fowl onto the table, wiped his greasy fingers down the front of his leather jerkin and pushed back his chair. She watched him as he strolled around the table to the dresser behind her. The temptation to turn her head to keep an eye on what he was doing was almost overwhelming but she resisted it. Trust had to start somewhere.

When he came up behind her, yanked down the front of her dress and grabbed a breast in each hand Tarraquin acted instinctively, throwing her head back and cracking him in the nose. Vorgret gave an angry snarl and staggered backwards giving Tarraquin just enough time to clutch a dinner knife, leap to her feet and turn to confront her attacker. Vorgret wiped the blood from his nose, his anger so wild that he barely had control of himself. There was no way the bitch of a whore was going to best him.

He charged in again making a grab for her neck but only managed to yank the pendant from her throat as the knife sliced into his arm scoring a deep, bloody line. Swatting the knife to one side he collided heavily with Tarraquin’s half naked body and, using his strength and momentum, threw her bodily onto the table scattering the dishes and food in every direction. The impact with the table top knocked the breath from her and in an instant Vorgret was on top of her, one hand around her throat and the other hand pushing up her skirt, his stiff manhood already out of his breeches.

Vorgret was strong, stronger than any man she had ever fought, but there was no way she was going to allow this brute to rape her, even if it meant her life. She had to get his hand from around her throat so she stopped struggling as if she had given in. Vorgret released his grip and heaved himself up ready to drive into her. It was all the freedom Tarraquin needed. She twisted sideways and snapped her knee up into Vorgret’s groin with all the force she could muster.

The shriek that Vorgret gave was pure animal as he rolled off the table and onto the floor, clutching himself and crying with agony. Tarraquin rolled off the other side and ran for the door but she was too late. The two huge guards were already entering the room, alerted to the danger to their king by his shrieks. They grabbed her arms and swung her around to face Vorgret who was still on his knees, his breath coming in short, painful gasps.

“You’re not a queen, you’re just a bloody whore and don’t think I don’t know it! You were promised to me, but I wasn’t good enough for you, so you promised yourself to Borman and let him fuck you. Then when he wasn’t good enough you whored yourself to Newn and let him fuck you too. Well I’m going to have my share, the share you promised me.” He groaned and wiped the blood from his broken nose onto the back of his hand. “Guards, take her back and lock her in her room. When she’s gone hungry and thirsty for a seven day she’ll be happy to open her legs for me or anyone else I want to whore the bitch to.”

Vorgret waved the guards away in dismissal and they turned and marched the lady away, closing the door quietly behind them.

*

Plantagenet dropped the wards on the door of the tower and stepped inside, relieved to be safely back in his home again. He hated all this cloak and dagger stuff. It wasn’t something that a magician of his age and stature should be involved in; it made him feel odd as if he had web spinners scurrying over his body. Gratefully he closed the door, rebuilt the wards and turned around in time to see Animus hurrying towards him. It wasn’t doing him any good either; he was off his food, losing weight and his perpetual cheerfulness had turned into a timid anxiety. If Animus looked that bad the Goddess knows what he must have looked like.

When Animus had come back from the market without the supplies that he needed for his latest experiment, but full of rumours, he should have ignored them. What happened in the palace was none of their business. They were retired. But Animus was right; the Lady Tarraquin had been their friend since she had been a little girl, and if it truly was Tarraquin who was being held as Vorgret’s prisoner, then they had to do something about it.

That’s what he’d been doing for most of the day. He had to be the one who did it of course. Animus would have given the game away with his first question but he didn’t like being devious. It wasn’t in his nature and he was no good at it.

“Was it her?” Animus asked anxiously, wringing his hands and shaking slightly.

“I believe it must be. The Housecharge hasn’t seen her, but the steward described her to him and it sounds just like Tarraquin.

“Could he be mistaken? There are lots of girls with long, brown hair.”

“He could but I went to the stables on the pretence of wanting a horseshoe for one of your experiments and managed to get close to the horse she had ridden.” He placed the heavy iron shoe on the table next to him. “I sensed her presence so I think there can be no doubt, Vorgret’s prisoner is the Lady Tarraquin.”

Animus slumped down into one of the old armchairs as if all the air had suddenly been let out of him. “Oh dear, what are we going to do?”

“There’s only one thing we can do. We have to rescue her.”

“But Plantagenet, we don’t know anything about rescuing people and we dare not go into the palace. You heard what Sadrin said, if we’re caught there we’re going to be in serious trouble.”

“Yes, I know.” Plantagenet took off his damp cloak and dropped it over the back of the chair to dry before going to the pot over the fire and pouring himself some herb tea. He took one sip of the bitter, over-brewed liquid and wished he hadn’t bothered. Putting the mug on the shelf above the hearth he turned back to Animus and tried to be as positive as he could. “That’s why I have recruited some help from someone who does know about these sorts of things.”

Animus opened his eyes wide with surprise. He didn’t know that they knew anyone who was good at rescuing people. “Who?”

“Swordmaster Barrin.”

“But that’s impossible. I thought Barrin was taking Rosera back to her father in Shipside?”

“I thought so too but apparently not. I bumped into him in the Southside market where he was having an altercation with one of Vorgret’s guards. I was fortunate enough to be able to provide some assistance.”

Animus looked horrified. “What did you do?”

“I tripped the guard up. Nothing fancy, just a small spell to undo his laces whilst Barrin escaped. He found me later to thank me so I told him of our problem and he said as soon as it was safe he would come here and talk to us about it.” Plantagenet looked up as the air around him vibrated sending chills down his spine. “That must be him now. Someone has disturbed the wards at the rear door.”

Plantagenet hurried to the small hidden door and let Barrin in. It had only been a few days since he’d last stood in the room, but he looked quite different. He had changed his guard’s uniform for the rough clothes of a labourer, his hair was greasy and spiky and dark stubble covered his lower face. Animus wouldn’t have recognised him if he hadn’t grinned. He bowed briefly to the two magicians and then turned to the fire to warm himself.

“I’m sorry to have taken so long to get here, but I needed to take a detour after what happened in the Southside market.” He gave an amused laugh. “I’ve never seen anyone looked as surprised as that guard did when his breeches suddenly dropped around his ankles and he fell flat on his face with his arse in the air.”

Animus raised his eyebrows and looked questioningly at Plantagenet who only shrugged. “They were the wrong laces but the effect was the same.” He turned back to Barrin. “What did you do in the square to have half the king’s guard after you?”

The smile left Barrin’s face. “Quim had been to the market and had taxed the vendors of all their days’ takings, so my friends and I decided we would take it back. Unfortunately the guard you saw could run faster than I could, but the others got away safely. It’s what we do now; whenever we can we make the lives of the invaders a misery. It’s not much I know, but people are starting to join us and one day, when we are strong enough, we’ll kick Vorgret and his thugs out of Vinmore and send them packing back to Essenland where they belong.” Plantagenet looked disturbed but didn’t say anything.  “Now tell me about this lady.”

So they did, including how long they had known Tarraquin and how she had once saved Jonderill’s life. When they had finished, Barrin just stood and rubbed his forehead, frowning as he thought through the possibilities. In the end he just shook his head. “It’s not possible. The palace is teeming with guards and the place where she is likely to be held is guarded by Vorgret’s own men. Believe me you don’t want to go messing with them. I’m sorry, my friends, there is nothing which can be done for the lady. The only way you could get to her and get away again in one piece would be if everyone was asleep but even at night the corridors are guarded.”

Animus looked at Plantagenet and acknowledged his slight nod with a rapid blink. “Um, if we brought the lady out of the palace would you be able to help us leave Alewinder for somewhere safer?”

Barrin thought about it for a moment. “We still have the wagon which we used to move the Queen so it should be possible to get you out of the city but all hellden would break loose once she was missed. You would have to hide somewhere nearby where you couldn’t be found and wait for the ruckus to die down before moving as far away from Alewinder as you could get. I don’t think Vorgret will give up easily and then there’s that magician of his. He will be difficult to throw off the trail.”

Plantagenet nodded in understanding. “You’re right of course. Sadrin is powerful and if he senses our magic the first place he will look is here; and this time I don’t think he will miss the top most room where we hid Rosera.” He looked searchingly at Animus. “If we do this it will mean that we’ll have to leave our tower and probably never return.”

Animus nodded stoically. “We’ve been here since we retired living off Vinmore’s kindness, so perhaps it’s time we repaid that debt, although I wish I could have finished some of my experiments first.”

Plantagenet nodded but hid his smile. “We have a place in the forest which Sadrin won’t be able to find where some friends of ours are staying. Would you be able to get us there tonight if we could get Tarraquin out of the palace?”

Barrin looked from one magician to the other seeing the sadness on their faces. “Are you sure you want to do this? It will be dangerous and there can be no certainty that Sadrin will not be able to find you.” Plantagenet looked at Animus and they both nodded. “In that case I will meet you at the armsman’s gate at second bell past midnight and I wish you luck, my friends.”