Tadah! Chapter 12. Sorry this one took so long, but there was so much I had
to put into this chapter. Aly appears (I know that'll make quite a few of
you happy). Thanks so much to all my reviewers. I got so many reviews, more
than I've ever gotten for a chapter before, I think. A special thanks to
Arcana who pointed out a little error with my last chapter. Sorry about
that (grins sheepishly) I haven't read the Immortals books in a while.
Mixing up my evil mages was one thing, but I couldn't make up an excuse for
this one so I fixed it. Sarra is probably around one in this story, sorry
about not mentioning that, horseluver444. Numair called her a lady because
he just saw her that way I guess. She can't walk yet so when they were
dancing he was really just carrying her. Anyway, here's chapter twelve. It
gets a little violent when Daine is getting interrogated, nothing horribly
gruesome, but just thought I'd warn you. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or places in this story, they belong to Tamora Pierce.
***
"What's your name?"
It was a simple question. One that Daine could have answered easily but didn't. If I tell him anything, I'll tell him everything, she thought. She knew that if she opened her mouth she would lose all her courage and betray Tortall. Daine couldn't let herself do that.
Slowly, she shook her head.
The strike came like lightning; so fast that Daine could only register what had happened once the pain came. The hooded man's fist made contact with her right temple and slid down to her eye.
She refused to cry out, to make a sound to let them know that they were hurting her. She put a brave front on the outside, but inside she was more scared and weak than she had ever been. Somehow, Daine knew that she wouldn't live this experience through, she would never go home, never see her love again, never see her daughter grow up. And that hurt more than any blow could.
"What's your name?" the voice was tense now, quivering with anger. He was asking her a question that he already knew the answer to, trying to start her talking.
This time, Daine thought before responding. The hooded man must of known this because this, because no blows rained down upon her.
A small voice in her head cried out that if she told them everything, begged for mercy, they would let her go free. Daine couldn't help but listen with hope. Perhaps it was right, maybe she would live this through if she co-operated.
No! The stronger part of her screamed in her head. How could she even think such things, such treason? Rubinyan would never let her go, not after what he knew she had heard. I won't let Tortall down, she thought fiercely. If this was the end, she was going to go down fighting, not on her knees begging.
Again, she shook her head, this time with confidence. I won't let them beat me. I won't let them beat Tortall.
She grit her teeth as he hit her again.
***
Sweat dripped down the back of Numair's neck and was quickly absorbed by the collar of his black robe. The sun had risen with a vengeance, blasting heat from its rays even just hours after sunrise. The mage's robes were so soaked with sweat that it looked as if he had just gone for a swim.
Slowly, he moved his neck from side to side, trying to work a kink out of it without breaking his concentration. Taking a ragged breath, he put his full focus back into his spell.
This had to be the most complex magic he had ever worked and the mage was glad that he had been preserving his Gift for the past few weeks. He was going to need it.
The war mages had attack late last night, shortly before midnight. By the time Numair had gotten to the wall, he had found a massacre. Bodies had been strewn about; every single one with burns so terrible that they could only have come form blaze balm or burning spells. Numair had set to work right away putting into effect a spell he had been working on since the Immortals War. It acted as an invisible shield, burning up liquid fire before it could even touch the castle walls or the mages and archers who were trying desperately to hold of the enemy.
At first, Numair had been able to maintain the spell while still fighting some of the mages, throwing choking cloud of black Gift their way, but a very irritable Lioness had come and yelled at him early this morning for wasting his Gift that way. He was the only one besides Alanna and Jon who had enough power to keep his wall up. Alanna was busy directing the fighters and all three of them had agreed that using Jon and the Dominion Jewel to maintain the spell would be a last resort.
Numair tried to swallow, but found that his throat was too dry. Much to his relief, a flask was held up to his lips. He drank greedily, not caring that half of the precious liquid was dribbling down his chin.
"Thanks," he said shifting his eyes to see his benefactor. It was Alan of Pirate's Swoop, the red headed son of Alanna.
Alan grinned, "No problem Uncle Numair," His hazel eyes twinkled and Numair couldn't help but notice a certain resemblance between the squire and his mischievous father.
"Do you need a little help?" he asked carefully. Alan, like his brother Thom had plenty of the Gift from their mother, however Alan had chosen to take the path of a warrior while his older brother was studying to be a mage.
"Sure," Numair rasped. The boy gently grabbed the mage's hand. Slowly but surely, Numair began to feel better as Alan shoved his bright amethyst gift into Numair. Finally, Alan let go, exhausted.
He wiped his hands on his tunic. Alan was still wearing his clothes from the ball last night where he had attended as a server like many other squires. Now his dusty blue tunic and cream shirt where covered in sweat, dirt, and blood. The Mindelan owl was hardly visible under all the grime.
"Sorry I can't do more, I don't have the training," he said, his voice filled with distaste.
"That was just enough, thanks. I needed that." Numair said, felling a little stronger now. He couldn't help but wish that Alan's brother Thom was here too. The young mage was proving to be quite powerful and would have been able to take some of the spell's burden off of Numair.
As if reading the black robe's mind, Alan said, "I contacted Thom in the fire earlier. He's already left the City of the Gods along with other mages and will be here in three or four days."
Numair nodded, wondering if they would arrive to find anything left of the palace at all. At the rate that the Copper Islanders were attacking, he knew their Tortallian forces couldn't hold out much longer. Not to mention that fact that a whole fleet of enemy warriors was on their way here now.
"Alan," a new voice said, coming from somewhere beside Numair out of his range of vision, "I'm glad I found you!" Lady Keladry of Mindelan squatted down next to her squire. "The north wall's taken heavy losses so we're going to have to bring some of the city folk up to take the dead's places. We need to go keep tabs on them."
"Right," Alan said wearily. "I'll be back later to see how you're doing Numair, my mom told me to look after you and I don't dare disobey her." He grinned, "You know how she gets when she's mad."
Numair forced a laugh as the knight and her squire rushed off.
For a moment, he wondered why he was sitting here when he should be on his way to the Copper Isles. Daine needed him and he wasn't with her. Just then, a yellow robe mage felt it was about time to fire some more liquid fire at the walls. Sensing the rush of liquid speeding toward him, Numair brought up his shield again at the last minute.
That was too close, the thought. Thinking about Daine was doing nothing for his concentration. He would just have to believe what Buri and Jon had said. Daine would want him to be here and that she could take care of herself. In spite of this, Numair sent a quick prayer to the Goddess for her safety.
***
"What's your name!" the hooded man asked for the hundredth time that day. His voice quivered with impatience and anger.
Daine looked up into his eyes. In the blazing of the torchlight held by the other man, she could see her reflection. She barely recognized herself. Her right eye was swollen shut, her lip was split and blood trickled down the side of her mouth.
Wearily now, she shook her head.
For a moment she could have sworn she saw a look of admiration in the eyes staring back at her from behind the hood. This time it was the man who shook his head.
"It was a simple question lass," he spoke to her really for the first time in hours. His gloved hand reached into the pocket of his breaches and pulled out an iron rod. At the end of the rod, the iron snaked around to form the seal of the royal family of the Copper Isles. It was a square filled with a crown in the center of three intertwined circles. Reaching back to his silent companion, the hooded man stuck the iron in the flame of the brightly burning torch.
Daine gulped. Her throat was burning, dry and scratchy and she longed for something to drink. Somehow, she didn't get the impression that she was going to be offered anything soon.
As the iron grew redder, Daine grew paler. She gathered her courage as the hood man removed the cherry iron out the flame. Don't focus on that, she told herself. Trying to take her mind off of the approaching man, she imagined what Sarra and Numair were doing at that moment. She closed her eyes and saw her little girl sitting on Numair's lap as he read to her from one of his millions of books. The hooded man was behind her now; she could hear his footsteps as his boots clicked on the stone floor.
Numair was bouncing Sarra on his knee now and she was laughing...
Daine had promised herself that she would not make a sound and that she would keep her jaw shut, but when the red-hot iron touched her flesh, she let out a cry that could have woken the gods from their sleep.
***
Rubinyan chewed his meat carefully, savoring the taste of a meal prepared by the best cooks in the realm. Across from him, his wife Imajane watched him intently.
His queen was beautiful, her blue eyes shining out from behind the long bangs of her brown hair. He drank in her radiance and congratulated himself for finding such a woman. Beauty, brains and royal ties all in one body. She had gotten him to the throne and he would get her Tortall. Together, their thirst to conquer would win them the world.
"Uncle, I want a cake!" Sticky fingers pulled at Rubinyan's silk breeches, leaving prints of jelly on his finery.
Rubinyan took a breath to contain his anger and replied respectfully, "Yes, your highness. I shall order one to be made immediately, be patient Dunevon."
The royal pain in his side squealed in delight before one of his nursemaids scooped him up and rushed him out of the dining chambers with a quiet apology to the regents for disturbing them.
Once the door had closed behind the young king and his keeper, Imajane let out a roar of frustration.
"Remind me to never have children," she growled, "When can we get rid of that brat nephew of mine?"
Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, Rubin finally answered, "Perhaps sooner than I thought."
Imajane looked intrigued, seeing the look on his face. "Please elaborate," she said silkily.
"Perhaps Dunevon has a terrible accident with that pony of his..." he let the word hang out in the open, loving the look of understanding in Imajane's eyes. His wife knew him too well.
"We make the wild mage a scapegoat." She grinned
"We kill two squawking birds with one stone."
"The nation will rally on our side as we avenge the death of our king by hanging his murderer. Then they'll support our fight against Tortall and be too worked up to even suspect a thing. I love the way you think." Imajane stood up and walked over to her husband and king. After a quick kiss, she strode through the double doors leading to the hall calling over her shoulder, "I'll talk to the holster."
Rubinyan couldn't help but feel a pinch of jealousy at this comment. He had a feeling that there would be little talking involved. He shrugged. What ever got the job done.
The faint whispers of a far off scream reached his ears. The regent grinned wickedly. Perhaps it was time to visit Veralidaine.
***
Alan aimed his bow carefully, not wanting to waste a single arrow at a time like this. He trained his sites on a winged snake that was swooping down to the wall. The green snake was well over 10 feet long with four wings each half that length. Its teeth dripped with deadly venom as it looked for its next victim. Blue eyes shifted left and right until they locked on a target.
Following that path of the serpent's gaze, Alan realized that it was setting its sight on his Knight Mistress. Lady Keladry was completely unaware of her attacker as she dragged injured fighters back down from the wall to the makeshift infirmary that the ballroom had become. Alan couldn't let that beast get to her. With one last check of his aim, his arrow flew true and sunk into the snake's head.
It fell to the ground without a cry, dead the moment the arrow enter its brain.
Lady Kel, as she had told him to call her, returned quickly from her trip to the infirmary. Her arm was bleeding freely from where a knife thrown by a mage had entered it.
"You look exhausted Alan, go rest. Whatever you did for Numair, it must have taken a lot out of you."
Alan shook his head. He wasn't about to go lie down in the middle of a battle. He struggled to stand up from his crouched position on the wall. The sounds of battle rang out around them causing the knight and squire to yell at each other just to be heard.
"Nah, I'm fine Kel, just a bit tired, but its nothing compared to how you look." Sir Keladry had black rings under her eyes and ash from mage blasts covered her face and the clothes. Old scars on her hands had reopened, making them look like shredded like old rags.
"You sure know how to make a girl feel confident about her looks," she said dryly. "Go down and rest. That's an order! An while you're down there, check on Toby." Toby had been hit by liquid fire before Numair had put his spell up and had been badly burned.
Seeing the unyielding look in her eyes, Alan nodded. "I'll go," he said finally turning to trot down the wall's stairs.
He never saw the winged snake swoop down from behind him, but he sure felt it sink its fangs into his shoulder and pump its deadly venom in. He sank to his knees in pain.
"Alan!" Kel called.
The last thing Alan saw before he passed out was his knight mistress chopping down the creature that had taken a bite out of him.
***
Aly lay in bed rubbing her neck thoughtfully. It felt good to touch skin instead of the rough slave collar that had once been there.
There was so much to think about. The spring had been quiet. Almost too quiet for her liking. Kyprioth had said that things wouldn't be easily, and it hadn't been, in a way. It wasn't easy because she and the other protectors of Sarri and Dove were always waiting for something. Aly and her friends were always on their toes, but nothing happened.
"Enjoying your rest?" Aly jumped up from her bed and drew the knives that she always kept in sheath at her wrists. She dropped into a fighter's crouch, ready for some action.
"Oh, it's you," she said grouchily to the god who had decided to make her his pawn.
"You seem so disappointed, expecting someone else?" the trickster asked slyly.
"Expecting anyone else!" she cried as she carefully slid her knives back into their sheaths, "You said that the rest of the time that our wager lasts would be difficult and nothing's happened. Nothing at all!"
The Trickster grinned, shaking his head at her impatience as if she were a small child, "I'm just waiting for a few more pieces to fall into place. Then, believe me, you will long for these restful days!"
"What other," she began to ask before she felt a tingle in the back of her head. It wasn't the familiar feeling of her Sight, but something else. For a split second her shoulder burned with a stinging pain. She cried out in surprise before the pain went away as abruptly as it had come.
"Something's happened to Alan..." she realized.
"That's interesting," Kyprioth said distractedly.
"What do you know?" she asked him suspiciously. "What's going on in Tortall?"
"Nothing much," he assured her but seeing the scathing look she gave him, the god decided to rethink his choice of words. "Well, a little something. You see, um, Corus is under attack."
"What!?!" Aly cried.
"Yes, well, Rubinyan has decided to attack Tortall, which actually works out well for me because that whole battle is keeping the great gods busy. Now I can speed up my little game." He grinned.
"How is war at all good?" she asked shocked. She wondered what had happened to her brother, but didn't want to give the god some piece of information to hold over her. Gods were tricky to deal with.
"You remember I said I would send you help, well its coming. Be ready." Trickster gave her a big fat wink and disappeared.
"Gods," Aly muttered with disgust, wonder what he meant. She decided to go talk over this puzzle with Ulasim, Ochobu, and Chenaol.
***
Tear streamed down Daine's face as the hot iron touched her skin again, but by now her back was one big pain and the added injury blended with all the others. She was just tired.
She could almost hear the hooded man beside her sigh at her unending silence. At the sound of boots clicking sharply on the floor, he came around in front of Daine to see who their visitor was.
Rubinyan strode in, a smile quivering on his lips at the sight of Daine.
"How are things going boys?" he asked as the men who rushed to bow to the regent king. Neither spoke for a moment, looking at each other. Finally the taller man answered in his gruff voice.
"Sire, we ain't been able to get nothing out of her."
"What's that?" Rubinyan asked, as if not believing his ears.
"We haven't got nothin' sire." He said again.
"You have had and entire days and nothing!" He shook his head, but was not nearly as angry as Daine had hoped he would be. "Well, why don't we speed things up a bit, huh? I had hoped to have it beaten out of her, but I'm an impatient man." he reached into the pocket of his silken tunic and pulled out a tiny bottle of clear liquid, squiring it around in the vile.
Daine knew what the clear liquid was. Rubinyan held truth serum. The Queen's Riders used the same liquid to interrogate bandits and criminals they captured. She had seen first hand just what the serum could do. Once it slid down your throat, you could hold nothing back, and had to answer any question asked of you. She trembled. All of this would be for nothing if she spilled everything to Rubinyan now! Fiercely she clamped her lips shut.
"Ah, so you know what I hold in my hand?" he asked her. He turned to the shorter hooded man, handing him the vile. "If you'd be so kind."
The tall man grabbed her head and forced her mouth open as the other poured the liquid down her throat. She gagged refusing to swallow, but a gloved hand covered her nose and so she was forced to swallow to breath.
The men released her and stepped back. Rubinyan smirked at her, victory shone in his eyes. Daine gulped. It would take only seconds for the serum to go into effect. The strange thing was, that she didn't feel any different, didn't feel herself falling into he stupor that the liquid caused. Curiously she looked up at the regent.
"What do you know about the King and Queen of Tortall?" he asked confidently.
Daine waited for the answer to pop out of her mouth, but no answer came. Grinning she shook her head.
"I said, what do you know, Veralidiane!" Rubin cried.
Again she shook her head.
"Why isn't it working?" the regent demanded angrily.
Daine for one was wondering the same question.
***
"Come on your highness, I've saddled your pony for your daily ride." The holster said, trying to stop the quiver in his voice from being heard. He couldn't believe what he was about to do.
His father had always told him to never fool around with noble women, that they always wanted somethin' from ye, but he had ignored the warning, too caught up in the moment. The Queen had taken interest in him, him! A lowly holster, so he figured that she didn't count as just any noble.
He bowed to the young king and regally lifted him into the saddle.
"Be careful," he said ironically.
"Who needs to be careful? I want adventure!" he kicked his mild pony in the ribs, anxious to ride. "Come on aunty, let's go!" he called to the regent queen who now trotted over to her nephew, giving the holster a sly wink as she passed.
"Of course you highness, why don't we gallop?" Dunevon gasped in surprise at the offer. He had never been allow to ride his pony at a full gallop before and clapped with delight.
"Yah!" he cried, pulling on his beast's reins in anticipation. Little did the poor boy know his pony's bit had been studded with sharp bits of metal, placed there by the holster. The pony reared at the pain its mouth, dancing on its hind legs and pawing at the air.
Dunevon didn't stand a chance. He slid right off of his too loosely cinched saddle and onto the ground among the kicking hooves of the pony. When the holster finally soothed the poor beast, the King was little more than a disfigured, trampled corpse.
Imajane grinned down at him, and he beamed with pride at having served her, although he couldn't bare to look at the poor child's body.
"The King!" she gasped sarcastically, "I must inform Rubinyan. Oh my poor, poor nephew, how could this have happened?" smiling she slid off her horse and rushed back up to the palace.
***
"Where are you from?" Rubinyan asked desperately, hoping for an answer, any answer but again none came. He couldn't fathom why the serum wasn't working, it always worked! Hearing the opening of a cell door behind him, he spun to great his wife. She was in tears.
What a wonderful actress, he thought to himself; she could have been a player! "What's wrong my love," he asked concerned, ignoring the girl who sat beaten at his feet.
'It's Dunevon, he was, he was," she stumbled for the right words, "He was killed, trampled by his horse!"
"His horse?" Rubin asked playing his part, "There's nary a beast gentler that that one in the world! How did it trample him?"
"Some one must have upset the pony, for it to spook like that," Imajane whispered. Suddenly she pointed to Daine as if noticing for the first time that she was there.
"You! Your wild magic. You must have made the horse kill the King. Murderer!" Imajane cried through tears '"My poor nephew, you will hang for this!" she cried, kicking Daine.
Rubinyan looked at the girl, pleased to find her confused and startled, wonder what was going on. She looked at him, her face clearly wondering how she could be blamed for the King's death while the chains she had worn for the past day contained her wild magic.
Quietly, he said, "I supposed that makes me King," He hugged his wife trying to comfort her. Inside he was grinning; he and his wife could out maneuver even the gods.
Turning back to Daine he said, "As my first act as King of the Copper Isles, I order the execution of Veralidaine Sarrasi. This execution is to be carried out tomorrow at dawn." He grabbed his wife's shoulders and steered her of the dungeon.
"Well, your highness, shall we go inform the people of the terrible news?" he asked the queen.
She smiled at him, "I think we shall sire."
Together they strolled off to call for a court assembly where they would break the heart wrenching news. Rubinyan yawned; it was going to be a very good day.
***
Well, that turned out to be quite a long one. Please review and tell me what you think. Thanks!
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or places in this story, they belong to Tamora Pierce.
***
"What's your name?"
It was a simple question. One that Daine could have answered easily but didn't. If I tell him anything, I'll tell him everything, she thought. She knew that if she opened her mouth she would lose all her courage and betray Tortall. Daine couldn't let herself do that.
Slowly, she shook her head.
The strike came like lightning; so fast that Daine could only register what had happened once the pain came. The hooded man's fist made contact with her right temple and slid down to her eye.
She refused to cry out, to make a sound to let them know that they were hurting her. She put a brave front on the outside, but inside she was more scared and weak than she had ever been. Somehow, Daine knew that she wouldn't live this experience through, she would never go home, never see her love again, never see her daughter grow up. And that hurt more than any blow could.
"What's your name?" the voice was tense now, quivering with anger. He was asking her a question that he already knew the answer to, trying to start her talking.
This time, Daine thought before responding. The hooded man must of known this because this, because no blows rained down upon her.
A small voice in her head cried out that if she told them everything, begged for mercy, they would let her go free. Daine couldn't help but listen with hope. Perhaps it was right, maybe she would live this through if she co-operated.
No! The stronger part of her screamed in her head. How could she even think such things, such treason? Rubinyan would never let her go, not after what he knew she had heard. I won't let Tortall down, she thought fiercely. If this was the end, she was going to go down fighting, not on her knees begging.
Again, she shook her head, this time with confidence. I won't let them beat me. I won't let them beat Tortall.
She grit her teeth as he hit her again.
***
Sweat dripped down the back of Numair's neck and was quickly absorbed by the collar of his black robe. The sun had risen with a vengeance, blasting heat from its rays even just hours after sunrise. The mage's robes were so soaked with sweat that it looked as if he had just gone for a swim.
Slowly, he moved his neck from side to side, trying to work a kink out of it without breaking his concentration. Taking a ragged breath, he put his full focus back into his spell.
This had to be the most complex magic he had ever worked and the mage was glad that he had been preserving his Gift for the past few weeks. He was going to need it.
The war mages had attack late last night, shortly before midnight. By the time Numair had gotten to the wall, he had found a massacre. Bodies had been strewn about; every single one with burns so terrible that they could only have come form blaze balm or burning spells. Numair had set to work right away putting into effect a spell he had been working on since the Immortals War. It acted as an invisible shield, burning up liquid fire before it could even touch the castle walls or the mages and archers who were trying desperately to hold of the enemy.
At first, Numair had been able to maintain the spell while still fighting some of the mages, throwing choking cloud of black Gift their way, but a very irritable Lioness had come and yelled at him early this morning for wasting his Gift that way. He was the only one besides Alanna and Jon who had enough power to keep his wall up. Alanna was busy directing the fighters and all three of them had agreed that using Jon and the Dominion Jewel to maintain the spell would be a last resort.
Numair tried to swallow, but found that his throat was too dry. Much to his relief, a flask was held up to his lips. He drank greedily, not caring that half of the precious liquid was dribbling down his chin.
"Thanks," he said shifting his eyes to see his benefactor. It was Alan of Pirate's Swoop, the red headed son of Alanna.
Alan grinned, "No problem Uncle Numair," His hazel eyes twinkled and Numair couldn't help but notice a certain resemblance between the squire and his mischievous father.
"Do you need a little help?" he asked carefully. Alan, like his brother Thom had plenty of the Gift from their mother, however Alan had chosen to take the path of a warrior while his older brother was studying to be a mage.
"Sure," Numair rasped. The boy gently grabbed the mage's hand. Slowly but surely, Numair began to feel better as Alan shoved his bright amethyst gift into Numair. Finally, Alan let go, exhausted.
He wiped his hands on his tunic. Alan was still wearing his clothes from the ball last night where he had attended as a server like many other squires. Now his dusty blue tunic and cream shirt where covered in sweat, dirt, and blood. The Mindelan owl was hardly visible under all the grime.
"Sorry I can't do more, I don't have the training," he said, his voice filled with distaste.
"That was just enough, thanks. I needed that." Numair said, felling a little stronger now. He couldn't help but wish that Alan's brother Thom was here too. The young mage was proving to be quite powerful and would have been able to take some of the spell's burden off of Numair.
As if reading the black robe's mind, Alan said, "I contacted Thom in the fire earlier. He's already left the City of the Gods along with other mages and will be here in three or four days."
Numair nodded, wondering if they would arrive to find anything left of the palace at all. At the rate that the Copper Islanders were attacking, he knew their Tortallian forces couldn't hold out much longer. Not to mention that fact that a whole fleet of enemy warriors was on their way here now.
"Alan," a new voice said, coming from somewhere beside Numair out of his range of vision, "I'm glad I found you!" Lady Keladry of Mindelan squatted down next to her squire. "The north wall's taken heavy losses so we're going to have to bring some of the city folk up to take the dead's places. We need to go keep tabs on them."
"Right," Alan said wearily. "I'll be back later to see how you're doing Numair, my mom told me to look after you and I don't dare disobey her." He grinned, "You know how she gets when she's mad."
Numair forced a laugh as the knight and her squire rushed off.
For a moment, he wondered why he was sitting here when he should be on his way to the Copper Isles. Daine needed him and he wasn't with her. Just then, a yellow robe mage felt it was about time to fire some more liquid fire at the walls. Sensing the rush of liquid speeding toward him, Numair brought up his shield again at the last minute.
That was too close, the thought. Thinking about Daine was doing nothing for his concentration. He would just have to believe what Buri and Jon had said. Daine would want him to be here and that she could take care of herself. In spite of this, Numair sent a quick prayer to the Goddess for her safety.
***
"What's your name!" the hooded man asked for the hundredth time that day. His voice quivered with impatience and anger.
Daine looked up into his eyes. In the blazing of the torchlight held by the other man, she could see her reflection. She barely recognized herself. Her right eye was swollen shut, her lip was split and blood trickled down the side of her mouth.
Wearily now, she shook her head.
For a moment she could have sworn she saw a look of admiration in the eyes staring back at her from behind the hood. This time it was the man who shook his head.
"It was a simple question lass," he spoke to her really for the first time in hours. His gloved hand reached into the pocket of his breaches and pulled out an iron rod. At the end of the rod, the iron snaked around to form the seal of the royal family of the Copper Isles. It was a square filled with a crown in the center of three intertwined circles. Reaching back to his silent companion, the hooded man stuck the iron in the flame of the brightly burning torch.
Daine gulped. Her throat was burning, dry and scratchy and she longed for something to drink. Somehow, she didn't get the impression that she was going to be offered anything soon.
As the iron grew redder, Daine grew paler. She gathered her courage as the hood man removed the cherry iron out the flame. Don't focus on that, she told herself. Trying to take her mind off of the approaching man, she imagined what Sarra and Numair were doing at that moment. She closed her eyes and saw her little girl sitting on Numair's lap as he read to her from one of his millions of books. The hooded man was behind her now; she could hear his footsteps as his boots clicked on the stone floor.
Numair was bouncing Sarra on his knee now and she was laughing...
Daine had promised herself that she would not make a sound and that she would keep her jaw shut, but when the red-hot iron touched her flesh, she let out a cry that could have woken the gods from their sleep.
***
Rubinyan chewed his meat carefully, savoring the taste of a meal prepared by the best cooks in the realm. Across from him, his wife Imajane watched him intently.
His queen was beautiful, her blue eyes shining out from behind the long bangs of her brown hair. He drank in her radiance and congratulated himself for finding such a woman. Beauty, brains and royal ties all in one body. She had gotten him to the throne and he would get her Tortall. Together, their thirst to conquer would win them the world.
"Uncle, I want a cake!" Sticky fingers pulled at Rubinyan's silk breeches, leaving prints of jelly on his finery.
Rubinyan took a breath to contain his anger and replied respectfully, "Yes, your highness. I shall order one to be made immediately, be patient Dunevon."
The royal pain in his side squealed in delight before one of his nursemaids scooped him up and rushed him out of the dining chambers with a quiet apology to the regents for disturbing them.
Once the door had closed behind the young king and his keeper, Imajane let out a roar of frustration.
"Remind me to never have children," she growled, "When can we get rid of that brat nephew of mine?"
Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, Rubin finally answered, "Perhaps sooner than I thought."
Imajane looked intrigued, seeing the look on his face. "Please elaborate," she said silkily.
"Perhaps Dunevon has a terrible accident with that pony of his..." he let the word hang out in the open, loving the look of understanding in Imajane's eyes. His wife knew him too well.
"We make the wild mage a scapegoat." She grinned
"We kill two squawking birds with one stone."
"The nation will rally on our side as we avenge the death of our king by hanging his murderer. Then they'll support our fight against Tortall and be too worked up to even suspect a thing. I love the way you think." Imajane stood up and walked over to her husband and king. After a quick kiss, she strode through the double doors leading to the hall calling over her shoulder, "I'll talk to the holster."
Rubinyan couldn't help but feel a pinch of jealousy at this comment. He had a feeling that there would be little talking involved. He shrugged. What ever got the job done.
The faint whispers of a far off scream reached his ears. The regent grinned wickedly. Perhaps it was time to visit Veralidaine.
***
Alan aimed his bow carefully, not wanting to waste a single arrow at a time like this. He trained his sites on a winged snake that was swooping down to the wall. The green snake was well over 10 feet long with four wings each half that length. Its teeth dripped with deadly venom as it looked for its next victim. Blue eyes shifted left and right until they locked on a target.
Following that path of the serpent's gaze, Alan realized that it was setting its sight on his Knight Mistress. Lady Keladry was completely unaware of her attacker as she dragged injured fighters back down from the wall to the makeshift infirmary that the ballroom had become. Alan couldn't let that beast get to her. With one last check of his aim, his arrow flew true and sunk into the snake's head.
It fell to the ground without a cry, dead the moment the arrow enter its brain.
Lady Kel, as she had told him to call her, returned quickly from her trip to the infirmary. Her arm was bleeding freely from where a knife thrown by a mage had entered it.
"You look exhausted Alan, go rest. Whatever you did for Numair, it must have taken a lot out of you."
Alan shook his head. He wasn't about to go lie down in the middle of a battle. He struggled to stand up from his crouched position on the wall. The sounds of battle rang out around them causing the knight and squire to yell at each other just to be heard.
"Nah, I'm fine Kel, just a bit tired, but its nothing compared to how you look." Sir Keladry had black rings under her eyes and ash from mage blasts covered her face and the clothes. Old scars on her hands had reopened, making them look like shredded like old rags.
"You sure know how to make a girl feel confident about her looks," she said dryly. "Go down and rest. That's an order! An while you're down there, check on Toby." Toby had been hit by liquid fire before Numair had put his spell up and had been badly burned.
Seeing the unyielding look in her eyes, Alan nodded. "I'll go," he said finally turning to trot down the wall's stairs.
He never saw the winged snake swoop down from behind him, but he sure felt it sink its fangs into his shoulder and pump its deadly venom in. He sank to his knees in pain.
"Alan!" Kel called.
The last thing Alan saw before he passed out was his knight mistress chopping down the creature that had taken a bite out of him.
***
Aly lay in bed rubbing her neck thoughtfully. It felt good to touch skin instead of the rough slave collar that had once been there.
There was so much to think about. The spring had been quiet. Almost too quiet for her liking. Kyprioth had said that things wouldn't be easily, and it hadn't been, in a way. It wasn't easy because she and the other protectors of Sarri and Dove were always waiting for something. Aly and her friends were always on their toes, but nothing happened.
"Enjoying your rest?" Aly jumped up from her bed and drew the knives that she always kept in sheath at her wrists. She dropped into a fighter's crouch, ready for some action.
"Oh, it's you," she said grouchily to the god who had decided to make her his pawn.
"You seem so disappointed, expecting someone else?" the trickster asked slyly.
"Expecting anyone else!" she cried as she carefully slid her knives back into their sheaths, "You said that the rest of the time that our wager lasts would be difficult and nothing's happened. Nothing at all!"
The Trickster grinned, shaking his head at her impatience as if she were a small child, "I'm just waiting for a few more pieces to fall into place. Then, believe me, you will long for these restful days!"
"What other," she began to ask before she felt a tingle in the back of her head. It wasn't the familiar feeling of her Sight, but something else. For a split second her shoulder burned with a stinging pain. She cried out in surprise before the pain went away as abruptly as it had come.
"Something's happened to Alan..." she realized.
"That's interesting," Kyprioth said distractedly.
"What do you know?" she asked him suspiciously. "What's going on in Tortall?"
"Nothing much," he assured her but seeing the scathing look she gave him, the god decided to rethink his choice of words. "Well, a little something. You see, um, Corus is under attack."
"What!?!" Aly cried.
"Yes, well, Rubinyan has decided to attack Tortall, which actually works out well for me because that whole battle is keeping the great gods busy. Now I can speed up my little game." He grinned.
"How is war at all good?" she asked shocked. She wondered what had happened to her brother, but didn't want to give the god some piece of information to hold over her. Gods were tricky to deal with.
"You remember I said I would send you help, well its coming. Be ready." Trickster gave her a big fat wink and disappeared.
"Gods," Aly muttered with disgust, wonder what he meant. She decided to go talk over this puzzle with Ulasim, Ochobu, and Chenaol.
***
Tear streamed down Daine's face as the hot iron touched her skin again, but by now her back was one big pain and the added injury blended with all the others. She was just tired.
She could almost hear the hooded man beside her sigh at her unending silence. At the sound of boots clicking sharply on the floor, he came around in front of Daine to see who their visitor was.
Rubinyan strode in, a smile quivering on his lips at the sight of Daine.
"How are things going boys?" he asked as the men who rushed to bow to the regent king. Neither spoke for a moment, looking at each other. Finally the taller man answered in his gruff voice.
"Sire, we ain't been able to get nothing out of her."
"What's that?" Rubinyan asked, as if not believing his ears.
"We haven't got nothin' sire." He said again.
"You have had and entire days and nothing!" He shook his head, but was not nearly as angry as Daine had hoped he would be. "Well, why don't we speed things up a bit, huh? I had hoped to have it beaten out of her, but I'm an impatient man." he reached into the pocket of his silken tunic and pulled out a tiny bottle of clear liquid, squiring it around in the vile.
Daine knew what the clear liquid was. Rubinyan held truth serum. The Queen's Riders used the same liquid to interrogate bandits and criminals they captured. She had seen first hand just what the serum could do. Once it slid down your throat, you could hold nothing back, and had to answer any question asked of you. She trembled. All of this would be for nothing if she spilled everything to Rubinyan now! Fiercely she clamped her lips shut.
"Ah, so you know what I hold in my hand?" he asked her. He turned to the shorter hooded man, handing him the vile. "If you'd be so kind."
The tall man grabbed her head and forced her mouth open as the other poured the liquid down her throat. She gagged refusing to swallow, but a gloved hand covered her nose and so she was forced to swallow to breath.
The men released her and stepped back. Rubinyan smirked at her, victory shone in his eyes. Daine gulped. It would take only seconds for the serum to go into effect. The strange thing was, that she didn't feel any different, didn't feel herself falling into he stupor that the liquid caused. Curiously she looked up at the regent.
"What do you know about the King and Queen of Tortall?" he asked confidently.
Daine waited for the answer to pop out of her mouth, but no answer came. Grinning she shook her head.
"I said, what do you know, Veralidiane!" Rubin cried.
Again she shook her head.
"Why isn't it working?" the regent demanded angrily.
Daine for one was wondering the same question.
***
"Come on your highness, I've saddled your pony for your daily ride." The holster said, trying to stop the quiver in his voice from being heard. He couldn't believe what he was about to do.
His father had always told him to never fool around with noble women, that they always wanted somethin' from ye, but he had ignored the warning, too caught up in the moment. The Queen had taken interest in him, him! A lowly holster, so he figured that she didn't count as just any noble.
He bowed to the young king and regally lifted him into the saddle.
"Be careful," he said ironically.
"Who needs to be careful? I want adventure!" he kicked his mild pony in the ribs, anxious to ride. "Come on aunty, let's go!" he called to the regent queen who now trotted over to her nephew, giving the holster a sly wink as she passed.
"Of course you highness, why don't we gallop?" Dunevon gasped in surprise at the offer. He had never been allow to ride his pony at a full gallop before and clapped with delight.
"Yah!" he cried, pulling on his beast's reins in anticipation. Little did the poor boy know his pony's bit had been studded with sharp bits of metal, placed there by the holster. The pony reared at the pain its mouth, dancing on its hind legs and pawing at the air.
Dunevon didn't stand a chance. He slid right off of his too loosely cinched saddle and onto the ground among the kicking hooves of the pony. When the holster finally soothed the poor beast, the King was little more than a disfigured, trampled corpse.
Imajane grinned down at him, and he beamed with pride at having served her, although he couldn't bare to look at the poor child's body.
"The King!" she gasped sarcastically, "I must inform Rubinyan. Oh my poor, poor nephew, how could this have happened?" smiling she slid off her horse and rushed back up to the palace.
***
"Where are you from?" Rubinyan asked desperately, hoping for an answer, any answer but again none came. He couldn't fathom why the serum wasn't working, it always worked! Hearing the opening of a cell door behind him, he spun to great his wife. She was in tears.
What a wonderful actress, he thought to himself; she could have been a player! "What's wrong my love," he asked concerned, ignoring the girl who sat beaten at his feet.
'It's Dunevon, he was, he was," she stumbled for the right words, "He was killed, trampled by his horse!"
"His horse?" Rubin asked playing his part, "There's nary a beast gentler that that one in the world! How did it trample him?"
"Some one must have upset the pony, for it to spook like that," Imajane whispered. Suddenly she pointed to Daine as if noticing for the first time that she was there.
"You! Your wild magic. You must have made the horse kill the King. Murderer!" Imajane cried through tears '"My poor nephew, you will hang for this!" she cried, kicking Daine.
Rubinyan looked at the girl, pleased to find her confused and startled, wonder what was going on. She looked at him, her face clearly wondering how she could be blamed for the King's death while the chains she had worn for the past day contained her wild magic.
Quietly, he said, "I supposed that makes me King," He hugged his wife trying to comfort her. Inside he was grinning; he and his wife could out maneuver even the gods.
Turning back to Daine he said, "As my first act as King of the Copper Isles, I order the execution of Veralidaine Sarrasi. This execution is to be carried out tomorrow at dawn." He grabbed his wife's shoulders and steered her of the dungeon.
"Well, your highness, shall we go inform the people of the terrible news?" he asked the queen.
She smiled at him, "I think we shall sire."
Together they strolled off to call for a court assembly where they would break the heart wrenching news. Rubinyan yawned; it was going to be a very good day.
***
Well, that turned out to be quite a long one. Please review and tell me what you think. Thanks!