Fifteenth day of Equos, lighttime
New moon tonight. I'm going to sneak out and try that garden gate while it's nice and dark, to make it harder to be caught.
I haven't asked Mae yet to join me. If it turns out to be locked, which it almost certainly will, I wouldn't want to waste her time, and if it doesn't, there'll be other nights. Besides, one is less easily caught than two.
I do struggle with some small pangs of guilt over this plan, considering all that went wrong last time I left the castle illicitly. But this time it'll be under my own power, and there's no one waiting about with subversive kidnapping plots.
I still wonder how I could have been stupid enough to go with Magg when he came to me that morning. He bore every sign of a man who was up to something nefarious – not that he didn't always seem to have shifty eyes and quaking hands; the nervous type. But I'd just had a run-in with Taran, who had apparently slept on the floor outside my door to make sure I didn't get out, which made me so mad I wasn't thinking clearly. I knew he was keeping something from me, and when Magg loomed up, babbling about something serious happening and how I must come with him at once, I thought it might be my only chance to find out what was going on. I actually remember feeling defiantly pleased, as though I were getting the better of Taran by it! Llyr, what an idiot I was.
I realized it the moment we were out of sight of the castle gates. Magg had turned into the hills, where we were quickly swallowed up, and then reigned up near an outcropping, saying that he thought his horse had thrown a shoe. I dismounted to help him with it, and the moment my feet touched the ground he had grabbed me from behind before I could think.
Ugh. I can still feel his stinking breath on my neck. He was surprisingly strong for such a thin, wiry man, and those spidery hands of his were like vices on my arms. I threw myself backwards and got him off balance, and he fell back, cursing, but he kept a grip on one of my wrists, and twisted it fearfully as he fell, pulling me down with him. I was screaming like a banshee, and when I hit the ground my free hand found a rock. I swung it at his face, but he was already up, and caught my wrist, dodging the blow and pulling me back to my feet. But I was facing him then, and got in some good kicks, mostly to his shins. If it weren't for all those blasted skirts I could have aimed higher and ended the whole business, but the encumbrance put me at a disadvantage.
Oh, his face! I still see it in nightmares, leering at me. He seemed to be taking vicious pleasure in the struggle. It made me so mad I left off screaming for help and began to rail and rage at him, calling him all manner of nasty names. It wasn't wise, for it made him angry, and his anger made him stronger. In a moment, he had caught both my hands and twisted them behind my back and up, and got my head in the crook of his arm, squeezing until I could barely breathe. His whisper was harsh and ragged in my ear.
"You keep a civil tongue in your head, my beauty," he rasped. "You're lucky I'm sworn not to touch you yet." He gave my hands a harsh yank upward, but the pain from that wasn't so bad as the cold fear that prickled down my scalp. "All in good time. She's promised me a kingdom and a queen. I'll teach you proper respect in due course."
"They'll look for me," I choked out, squirming as much as I could to avoid the feel of his breath against my face. "You just wait. You'll regret you ever laid eyes on me."
"Oh, no doubt," he purred. It was an empty threat, of course. By the time anyone at the castle knew I was gone, he could have done anything he wanted, and he knew it. I didn't know who the "she" was at that point, or I could have planted some real doubts in his mind about Achren's promises. Although, come to think of it, perhaps it's just as well. He might have decided his oath wasn't worth keeping.
He had to wrestle me to the ground to get the rope round my wrists, and I fought as hard as I could, but he got a hand to my throat, and things went blurry for a while. When I could think again, my arms were firmly bound behind my back, my feet were tied together, and he was knotting a scarf around my mouth. I noted with some satisfaction that he had a bloody scratch down his swelling cheek, and an eye slowly turning purple.
It's the most horrible feeling to be bound hand and foot and not be able to speak. It was even worse being hoisted on the back of my horse like a bag of flour, the most undignified experience of my life. He rode into a nearby grove and into some thick underbrush, then tethered the horses and left me sitting at the base of a tree while he went back to the outcropping to watch for anyone who might be on our trail.
I sat there for hours. Several times I heard hoofbeats thundering past just beyond our hiding place, and though I squirmed about in the underbrush to make noise, I was bound too well to do much. Most of the time I sat there stewing, and as my head cleared, anger gave way to fear. It was obvious this was something Magg had carefully planned, not a mad sudden impulse. Who was the "she" he spoke of? And what was his babbling of a "kingdom" about? The "queen" comment I understood well enough, but its implications were not comforting. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stay calm, but my heart was racing. Soon all I could think was, Taran, where are you? It beat over and over in my head like a drum.
The sun rose higher and I grew fearfully thirsty. My stomach began growling so loudly I hoped someone searching might hear it, and my arms ached from being bound.
It must have been past midday when Magg came back. He dangled a skin of water in front of my face and then brandished a knife. "Thirsty, aren't you? I'll give you a drink. But if you make so much as a peep while that scarf is off, I'll alter that pretty face so even your pig-boy won't recognize you." I was too tired by then to doubt him. He held the knife to my throat while he pulled the gag off with one hand and tilted the water to my mouth. I choked on it once and he spilled it everywhere. It's a strange thing that in such circumstances you can still be annoyed by little things – I remember being irritated that my dress was wet. I scowled at him as murderously as I could, and he chuckled quietly as he replaced the gag.
We sat there into the twilight, and there were no more hoofbeats. Once I thought I heard a lot of yelling off to the left, but if it was there at all, it was too far away to do me any good. It was awful, sitting there, with Magg leering at me when he wasn't peering through the leaves. I refused to look at him, and thank goodness he was too concerned about being overheard to talk.
Once it got quite dark, he pulled me back on to the horse and rode through the trees to the riverbank. He pulled me down, and gave both the horses a slap and a yell that sent them flying, disappearing in moments in the trees. There was a boat hidden in a thicket, and as I saw him pulling it out, I realized it was my last chance to escape – there'd be no getting out of a boat, unless I wanted to drown, and although I might get to the point where I'd prefer drowning to the alternatives, I wasn't there yet.
I'd been straining at the bonds on my feet during the morning, and all the jostling of the horse ride had helped along, so I was able to walk with very tiny steps, though I ran the risk of tripping. I stayed close behind Magg as he pulled the boat to the water, and waited until he was precariously bending over it. Then I threw myself at him as hard as I could.
I had a vague idea that I could knock him into the boat and that his own momentum would carry it into the current and down the river without me. It was the only thing I could think of. Unfortunately it didn't quite work. He fell, all right, but into the water rather than the boat, and came up spluttering and cursing. I had turned to try to run back up the bank, but it was a useless endeavor, motivated more by panic than anything. He was on me in a moment, and threw me to the ground with a blow that almost knocked me senseless. I was dimly aware of a flash of something reflective rolling away on my right, and when he jerked me to my feet I realized in dismay that it was my bauble – I couldn't feel its cold weight at my side where it normally hangs; all the flailing about had jostled it free of its pocket.
The fool was too busy ranting at me to notice it. He threw an arm round my waist, lifting me off my feet. "You little wretch. I'll have that fire out of you or…" A long-fingered hand grabbed my chin, forcing my face up to look at him. His pale eyes reflected moonlight off the water. He bared his teeth in a feral smile. If I hadn't been gagged, I'd have spat at him.
"All in good time," he repeated, as if to himself, through his clenched teeth. "The higher the spirit, the better the breaking." He hesitated, and his eyes darkened, flickering over my face, then further.
At that moment there was a raucous noise from overhead, and I jerked my head away to look toward the familiar source. It was Kaw, and he came zooming like a black arrow toward us. I tried to shout, forgetting the gag, so all that came out was a muffled whoop.
Magg swore as Kaw flew at him, clawing for his eyes. He tossed me over his shoulder, using me as a shield, and staggered to the boat. I landed none too gracefully at the bottom, and twisted about to see Kaw fluttering madly around Magg's head, all the while screaming, "Bad Magg! Bad Magg!" as he jabbed at him with beak and claw. Magg finally caught him a clout that sent him spinning, and by then we were in mid-river, the current carrying us swiftly away.
I watched in despair as Kaw fluttered to the bank and shook himself. Then he gave a final cry that sounded like, "Taran! Rescue!" and took off in the other direction.
The boat ride was silent and grim. I squirmed to the fore end of the little boat and huddled there, listening to Magg panting hoarsely from the aft. The only other sound was the gurgling of the water, and the dripping of his clothes into the bottom of the boat. It must have been sheer exhaustion that allowed me to fall asleep, and I knew nothing more until the boat bumped against a gravelly shore, and I opened my eyes to see Achren's white face smiling icily at me in the moonlight.
It's another thing I see in nightmares.
