To Darkness Fled (64 page)

She could hear Atul moving, feel him pulling her across the moist floor by her boots, then all went dark.

* * *

Vrell moaned, stretched her stiff back. Her head throbbed. She tried to stretch her arms, but they did not move. She pulled harder, opened her eyes to discern the problem.

A thick knot of hemp bound her wrists in front. A swell of nausea gripped her at the memory of Atul the traitor. She lifted her head and looked around. She was in a single-pole, circular pavilion. A small fire blazed in a bronze brazier in the center of the room, lighting the extravagant tapestries on the walls. The smoke trailed out a hole in the roof into a dark sky.

It must be night.

She lay on a burgundy silk blanket that covered a pallet of goose down. A table, two chairs, and three massive trunks sat to the right of the bed. A changing screen hid the left side of the tent from view. An elaborate red and blue gown hung over the side of the screen. Could this be a woman's tent?

She needed to bloodvoice Achan, to tell him Atul was a traitor and had taken her. But what if it were a trap to lure him here? Perhaps she should at least discover where she was before contacting him.

Men's voices grew outside the tent, drawing near.

"It will take me three days to prepare more. Why didn't you tell me you were out?" The familiar, raspy voice brought a shiver over Vrell. Khai Mageia.

"I never had none to be out of." This bad grammar belonged to Atul. "Polk was
s'posed
to give me some, but Sir Gavin took all Polk's gear. What could I of done?"

"You could've asked me to make you more days ago."

"Enough. This matters not. If she calls to the stray, he'll come for her."

Esek Nathak's snide, condescending voice brought tears to Vrell's eyes. Caught, after all this time, by the very man she had been hiding from. Arman, why?

"Send scouts to watch for him, Sir Kenton--but not you. You ride with me."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Footsteps faded out of earshot.

A gust of cold air swept into the tent. "
Still
she sleeps? I have no time for this. You said it wouldn't last long, Mageia."

Strong hands grabbed Vrell's waist and rolled her over. Khai Mageia's dark eyes stared through his flop of greasy brown hair. His wild mustache twitched, baring yellowed teeth in a malicious smile. "She's awake, Your Majesty."

Esek Nathak peeked over Khai's shoulder, sending a chill up Vrell's spine that coated her palms in sweat. She tensed at how much Esek resembled Achan. Blue eyes, tanned skin, and dark hair... They could be brothers.

Esek's nose wrinkled in a disdainful grimace. "She smells like rot. Are you certain this is Lady Averella?"

"Positive," Khai said.

Esek grunted. "I'll have to have that coverlet aired. Stand her up so I can get a good look."

Khai pulled Vrell off the bed. She wanted to struggle, but her head pounded so much she found it difficult to focus. The next thing she knew, she stood before the bed facing Esek, Khai, and Atul.

Esek wore a long, red, wool cape bucked at his throat with a ruby and gold cabochon the size of her fist, black trousers, and black boots. A thin gold crown sank into his oily black hair that had been slicked back into a braided tail. His beard had thickened since she last saw him and made his jaw and chin look like it was trimmed in black rabbit fur.

Esek's blue eyes met hers. "Really, my dear, am I so revolting you would sink to this level just to avoid me?"

"Just kill me," Vrell said, though she did not want him to.

He slid his bejeweled fingers over his short, black beard. "But you are to be my bride. I marry you to keep tabs on the north.
And
I'm quite fond of grapes."

Vrell tried to spit at Esek, but her saliva dribbled down her chin. Her face flamed. How did men always spit so far?

"Ug!" Esek shrank back. "The things I do for this land. I recall having seen you quite fetching, my lady. Do tell me you have not forgotten how to wear a dress?"

"I will die before I marry you."

"Yes, well, I cannot allow that. But you are welcome to death anytime after the wedding."

"You honestly think Carm would fight for you if you took me without my or my mother's consent?"

"I care not. Frankly, I've no time to chat, my dear. I am at war with Mitspah. My men are weakening the stronghold as we speak. Get yourself presentable and you may bid me farewell." He turned and strode from the pavilion.

Vrell seethed. "I care not whether you leave!" She focused her gaze on Khai and Atul. "What do you want?"

"You're to wear this." Atul skirted the bed and walked to the changing screen. "I took it from Lady Rubel's closet."

Vrell snorted a laugh. "If you think for a moment that Lady Rubel's gown will fit me, you are blind."

Atul draped the gown over the bed. The beaded bodice and skirt sparkled in the firelight. Khai stepped forward and drew a dagger from a leg sheath. Vrell drew back.

"I'm to cut your bindings, my lady."

"Oh." No sense arguing there. Vrell held out her wrists.

Khai sawed through the hemp. "The tent is surrounded. Do not bother trying to escape. I will return in five minutes, my lady. If you are not dressed, I will do it myself."

* * *

Vrell felt ridiculous in such a gown. It was as fine as many of her own, but the fit mocked her insufficiencies. As promised, Khai returned and escorted her from the tent.

Esek's camp was in a clearing beside a dirt road. Torch posts held lanterns and torches, filling the air with the smell of pitch. New Kingsguard soldiers scurried around, armor jangling beneath their black capes. There appeared to be at least fifty armed men here, though it was difficult to count with so many tents. Horses whinnied and snorted. Khai led her past a tent where men were laughing around a game of dice.

The smell of horses reached her before she saw Esek in the gloom. He stood with Sir Kenton and Chora beside his ebony courser. In the torchlight she could see that the animal was draped in red banners embroidered with the crest of Armonguard.

She scowled. Armonguard's crest should appear on a purple background, not red. She reached out for Achan and sent a knock. No answer.

"Ah, a vast improvement." Esek twirled his finger in the air. "Turn around. Let's see."

The audacity of this man, barking orders as if she were his property. She folded her arms and stared him down.

A sharp point pricked her back. Stale breath blew hot in her ear. "Obey your king, my lady."

Vrell darted around to see Khai holding his dagger out.

He waved it forward. "All the way, my lady."

She blew out an bitter breath and twirled. The beaded skirt funneled, sucking a chilled draft up her trouser-clad legs.

"Better. Though something doesn't quite fit." Esek reached out for the bodice of the gown.

Vrell slapped his hand away.

He chuckled. "Atul tells me the stray is unaware of who you are." He raised a dark eyebrow. "Oh, yes, my lady, you and I are of the same mold, I see. Why do you fight it?"

Vrell sent another knock to Achan. His lack of response ignited a fear in her mind. Did he lie bleeding on the grassy lawn of the Mitspah bailey, a sword protruding from his heart? She gasped as the familiar fear settled into her veins, inspiring one disturbing image after another.

This was not night. This was Darkness! How far from the castle was she?

She sent a knock to Sir Gavin.

Sir Gavin's voice came and went in a breath.
A moment, Vrell. Mitspah is under attack.

She groaned inside and sent a knock to Achan again.

Esek held up his arms. Chora buckled a belt and sword around his waist. Owr. Achan's rightful sword. "This moment my Kingsguards are weakening the stray's so-called army. Can you believe he wasted all this time freeing a legion of withered grandsires?"

Esek laughed. "Now I will ride, find the stray, and cut him down once and for all. Once he is dead, I return for our wedding. But you are disappointed, my lady. Yes, I too would prefer something more elegant and formal, but since your mother refuses to cooperate, I shall take what I can get."

Esek tapped his cheek with his black-gloved finger. A row of rings glimmered over the leather. "A little kiss? For luck?"

Khai's dagger found Vrell's waist again. Her stomach coiled as she inched toward Esek's inclined head. She grabbed his face and bit down, sinking her teeth into his hairy cheek.

The familiar pressure of Achan's mind pressed in.
Yes, Miss Sparrow? You seem quite determined to get my attention this afternoon. Have you reconsidered hearing me out?

Esek growled, the sound increasing to a full-on yell. His leather glove squeezed Vrell's neck, pushing her away.

Vrell released her bite.
Achan! Are you hurt? Esek has taken me captive to his camp in Darkness. He said his men have attacked
--she screamed, but Esek's strong fingers silenced her, cutting off her air. He held her at arm's length, still squeezing. He bashed his other hand against her cheek. Her legs crumpled under her, and Esek, now holding her up by her neck, lowered her to her knees.

Her released his grip some, leaned down, and tenderly kissed her cheek. "Oh, yes. You and I will have a splendid wedding night." He pushed her down, stomped on her face, and all went black.

36

Vrell Sparrow.

Achan opened his eyes to the low, timber ceiling. Sunlight beamed through the slats on the shutters, painting stripes of light across his wall. It must be late afternoon. He sat up, vision hazy, left eye still tender. He scratched his leg and sighed.

He'd been trying to watch the eight bloodvoicers again. He must have fallen asleep.

His head ached. Could bloodvoicing leave such an aftereffect? He reached for his list. Of the eight, Achan had solid feelings about Bazmark, Joab, and Nevon. He should cross those three men off and focus on the remaining five.

Another throb stabbed his temple. He clutched the scroll and lay back on his bed. Ahh. Maybe he should see if Sparrow had any tea for headaches.

Wait. Sparrow loathed him because he'd kissed her. Of all the foolhardy things. He could barely stand to relive the wondrous and horrifying moment.

And how much had Kurtz overheard? If he still thought Sparrow a lad... This might be awkward. Achan knew he would be the one to bungle Sparrow's secret, but this...

Sir Gavin had rebuked him for having tussled with Sparrow earlier. Said it was inappropriate and that Achan might have hurt her. Well, Sir Gavin would likely tar and feather him when Kurtz told him what he'd seen. Sir Caleb more so.

It wasn't entirely fair, the way they'd harped. He was the one with the black eye. And Sparrow had been the one to draw her sword in the bailey, though Achan had probably set things off by pushing her into the moat.

A shallow moat at that. More of a wading pool, really. There were no beasts in there. Maybe minnows. Like Sparrow. He smiled at Kurtz's nickname. What would the love-crazy knight do when he knew Sparrow was female? The idea of Kurtz admiring Sparrow filled Achan's chest with heat. Sparrow had been right about men. Kurtz a prime example. And now Achan had proved her right as well. After all she'd done to hide from men, how could he have let himself take advantage? What if she never forgave him?

Vrell Sparrow.

Oh. Apparently Sparrow was the reason for Achan's pounding skull. She never had gotten the hint how painful this kind of persistence was.

Achan rubbed his temple and opened his mind.
Yes, Miss Sparrow? You seem quite determined to get my attention this afternoon. Have you reconsidered hearing me out?

Achan! Are you hurt? Esek is holding me at his camp in Darkness. He said his men have attacked--
Sparrow's ragged scream filled his mind.

Achan swung his legs off the bed.
Sparrow?

But the connection had vanished. He reached out, looked through her mind and found darkness. Surely she couldn't have fallen asleep in mid-sentence.

Had someone killed her?