11

The Scanran king was much shorter than Kel was expecting – almost a foot shorter than she was. He was also younger; wavy blonde hair framing a tanned face, cropped beard hiding a small, pinched mouth above which perched a broad nose and a pair of coldly intelligent blue eyes.

Those eyes were fixed on her face right now, studying her with as much interest as she was him.

"Interesting," he murmured, gazing at the tall young woman before him. "I'm not sure what I was expecting. Not this, that's for sure."

"The feeling's mutual," retorted Kel.

Maggur Rathhausak raised an eyebrow – either in amusement or irritation – and gestured to Kerlan, who was standing just behind Kel. The blunt end of a spear was suddenly driven into the back of her knees.

Kel grunted with pain and dropped into a kneeling position on the hard earth floor.

"Better," commented Maggur. "Appearance of respect to your superiors is always recommended."

"Sire," one of the Scanran guards knelt and presented the King with something. Glancing at it, Kel realised it was her glaive.

Hefting it, the King swung the weapon with some skill. "Very nice." He studied the blade. "Yamani steel work too, no less. It will make a nice addition to my collection." Maggur passed the glaive to one of his men and turned back to Kel.

"Now, the question is, Keladry of Mindelan, Protector of the Small, Tortall's second Lady Knight in living memory…oh don't look so surprised, you think your king is the only one to have spies in enemy territory?...the question is, what shall I do with you?"

Kel willed her face back into calm blankness and stared back at her captor in silence.

Maggur stepped over to her and grasped her short brown hair in one hand, pulling her head backwards. He studied her face as Kel grit her teeth. "I was most displeased when I had learnt my pet mage, Blayce the Gallan, had been killed by one of my enemy. Most displeased. Even less happy was I when I learnt that my childhood home, my castle had been destroyed in the process. Admittedly I had not been here for a while, but as you can see I am back now and the damage needs repairing and someone needs to pay for it."

His fingers tightened in her hair. Kel ground her teeth together tightly.

Maggur sighed and released her. "I think the Lady Knight needs rest. Give her our most comfortable room. Then we shall speak with her later." He grinned wolfishly at the confusion that flicked across her expression.

Pulled to her feet, Kel was taken out of the small wooden building that served as King Maggur's meeting hall. They walked across the courtyard and she noted how much work was being done to rectify the damage she had caused the last time she was here.

Vivid images across Kel's mind: she had lost friends that day, as well as saving others and ending the reign of terror that had been Blayce and his killing machines.

She was so preoccupied that when a building – more of a shed really, leant up against the blackened wall of the keep – loomed up in front of her, Kel was not expecting it when Kerlan opened the door and thrust her inside.

Grasping her arm, Kerlan drew a knife from his belt. "Well, you've certainly made an impression on his majesty. I'm not sure what he's got in mind for you, but won't it be fun to find out." His smile made Kel's stomach roll as she kept her eyes on the blade.

Kerlan pulled her wrists towards him and used his knife to saw through the rope. Once that had been done he released Kel and stepped outside, shutting the door without another word. A firm click sounded and then footsteps faded into the distance.

Her breath left her body in a long whoosh. Kel finally allowed her tense shoulders to slump as she peeled bits of rope from the raw skin around her wrists. Her fingers were not cooperating as much as they should be, but colour was already starting to come back into them and the beginnings of what Kel predicted would be some painful cramps.

A tiny window near the top of the wall allowed meagre light to filter through. Kel used it to review her surroundings. The building was solid wood on three sides: the fourth was the smoke stained stone wall of the castle. The space was cramped; if Kel's arms weren't so stiff she could probably reach out and touch both walls at once. A pile of straw was dumped in one corner; a bucket in another.

She walked around the small room, eyes roving the walls for some gap. She tested the door. It was built as solidly as the rest of the shed.

Kel sat on the earth floor, rested her back against the stone wall, winced as the welts connected with the rough surface and leant forward, wrapping her arms around her knees.

Never in her life had she ever felt so helpless. Even when Conal had held her over that balcony when she was four, at least she was able to shout for help. And it came. The Chamber of the Ordeal had been conquered by force of mind. Now there was nothing she could do but wait for something to happen. Either her friends would come to her rescue – a scenario that was looking increasingly unlikely – or Maggur would decide what he wanted to do with her; something that was likely to be extremely unpleasant and painful.

Kel did not have an over-active imagination, not like Neal, but she could not prevent horrible images of torture from playing over and over again in her mind. She knew she could deal with pain to a certain point, but there was bound to be something that pushed her too far. Kel realised that she could prove a danger to Tortall as well. She knew things that Maggur would love to get his hands on – not much, it wasn't as if she were a vital part of planning the tactics of war – but it could be enough to tip the balance in his favour.

The nausea that had threatened her on and off for the last couple of days finally got the better of her. Kel lurched to her knees and dragged the bucket towards her; retching weakly and bringing up nothing but bile. Her hands chose that very moment to spasm painfully as the blood started to pump more freely into the muscles. The effort of being sick pulled at the angry welts on her back.

Footsteps coming closer made her get a grip on herself. Kel pushed the bucket away once more and wiped her face on a dirty sleeve. She clambered to her feet as the door opened.

Mannet, the stocky man she had knocked out in her escape attempt, scowled at her and placed a tray on the floor. "You got a coupla hours to yourself lass. The King's got some things he needs to sort out, then he's ready to meet you again. Just thought you might like to know." He fingered the bump on the head she had given him and looked at her with something like pity. Kel didn't reply.

The man frowned at her once more and then abruptly left, locking the door once more.

Kel picked up the tray and sat down with it on her lap. A plate with stale bread and a piece of distinctly mouldy cheese greeted her, making her stomach churn. More welcome was a large jug of water.

She drained most of the jug and forced herself to eat at least some of the bread. As she chewed she started to feel defiant. Let them do their worst. They would find Keladry of Mindelan a hard nut to crack.