Chapter 9 A New Captive
"It won't do you any good if that thing kills the prince!" Duncan exclaimed.
"Oh, I think we have a little time, don't you?" the imposter purred. The cat growled as it followed Adam around the room. "She doesn't seem to be in any hurry."
Randor's heart was in his mouth. Being mauled by a great cat was no joke, he knew that. "Don't do this, please!" Duncan glanced his way with worry, but Randor remembered Panthor's claws all too well.
"You seemed amused enough by that green cat's antics!" the imposter said. "I think Adam should get a taste of –"
"I stopped him," Randor said urgently. "He didn't touch you. There's no one to stop that creature from attacking Adam."
The imposter pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Too right," he said. He waved his fingers and a new image took the place of Adam's. Randor jerked back in surprise. Teela? Duncan took a step forward before he froze, watching intently. Teela was in a narrow hallway somewhere in the palace. The view shifted, and they could see the empty hall both before and behind her. "Good," the weasel murmured. A few more words and she vanished. The image changed again and they watched as Teela appeared in the room with Adam, her back to the unfolding drama.
"What the –" she exclaimed, looking at the yellow wall before her.
"Teela?!" Adam yelled, his voice a mix of consternation and relief. Adam had dragged the mattress off the bed, and he held it as a flimsy shield between himself and the cat. One corner of the blanket was draped over the cat's hindquarters and along her tail; it appeared that Adam had thrown it over the beast to distract it. The leopard gave her tail an irritated flick, and the blanket slid off. Teela whirled and took in the scene with one glance. Extending her cobra staff, she leapt at the enormous cat. The fight was swift, and in a moment, the cat lay unconscious but still visibly breathing. Teela stood over it and stared around her, breathing hard. The imposter smiled and murmured again. The cat disappeared. Randor heaved a sigh of relief. Teela jumped and swore.
"Adam? What's going on here?" she exclaimed. "I thought you were visiting your father in the infirmary!"
"What? What do you mean, in the infirmary?" Adam demanded, shoving the mattress aside. He started to get to his feet but stopped with a gasp of pain. Teela started toward him, but the image vanished abruptly as the imposter waved his hand.
"That should be an amusing scene," he said. "But not one we need watch, I don't think."
"You monster," Randor yelled, getting to his feet. "Aren't you going to bring her back?"
The imposter shrugged. "I think not." A slow malicious smile spread across his face as he glanced over at Duncan. "Now the mechanic has a little incentive to get things going." Though he didn't move or change expression, Randor could see that Duncan was furious. "And to keep the secret." Duncan's eyes narrowed.
"How are we going to explain her absence?" Randor asked.
"I'm sure you can come up with something. You could say that she's been sent on an errand, or to follow something up." He shrugged and grinned mockingly. "She irritated you so you got rid of her? You're the king, be creative." He walked over to the foot of the bed and sat down. "So, gentlemen, how about a progress report on my excavator?"
Teela helped him to his feet and got a look at his leg. "You're bleeding," she said unnecessarily. "Here, lie down." She pulled the mattress flat again and helped him stretch out on his stomach. "These aren't too bad." As usual, her method of helping involved a lot of bossing.
He allowed himself to be positioned, bothered more by questions than her peremptory ways. What is she doing here? "Teela," he said impatiently. "You said my father was in the infirmary. Why?"
"What do you mean, why?" she said in an irritated tone. "I told you last night that he collapsed. Now hold still and let me get the bleeding stopped." After cutting the rest of the pant leg away, she grabbed the unused cloth napkin off the table and pressed it against the back of his thigh.
Adam clenched his teeth at the pain and his frustration. "You didn't tell me anything last night, Teela," he said through his grimace of pain.
"Yes, I did," she said crabbily. Adam started counting to ten. "I found you on the balcony last night and you wouldn't –"
His patience snapped. "I haven't been out of this room in four days," he said. "There's an imposter pretending to be me at the palace. What happened to my father?"
Teela's hands froze as what he said penetrated. "What did you say? There's an imposter?"
Adam took a deep breath and let it out again slowly. "What's wrong with my father?" he asked in tones he knew were harsh, but he couldn't help it. If she doesn't tell me what's going on soon, so help me . . .
Her paralysis broke and she began working on his leg again. "Oh, right. Um, I heard in the kitchens that he wasn't eating or sleeping very well, he's been having migraines or something, and – but if there's an imposter, it makes so much more sense. Does your father know?"
"Yes," Adam said irritably. This was like pulling teeth. "What do you mean, he hasn't been eating?"
"I don't know, Adam," she said, her voice worried. "Father just came back last night and told me that the king wasn't feeling well, but that he was getting treatment for what was wrong."
As Teela spoke, Adam started to feel very odd. "Treatment for what?" he tried to ask, but his voice wouldn't come out right. Nausea started curling in his belly.
"What Adam? I can't hear you." She pulled the napkin off his leg again, and started to clean the injury. "Adam, this is swelling really badly, and the skin's awfully hot." He felt her pressing her hand against the wound. "Adam, how do you feel?"
He swallowed hard against the nausea that was increasing by the second. "Get the chamberpot, Teela!" he said. "I think I'm gonna –" His words were interrupted by a retch, but Teela got the pot in front of him before he started to vomit. When he had done, he lay limply on the floor, which seemed to have developed a wave-like motion.
"Adam, are you all right? Adam?" He heard her voice distantly, but dizziness dragged him from consciousness.
"All right then," the imposter said to Duncan. "I'll be expecting regular daily reports on your progress, Man-at-Arms." Duncan nodded, jaw set. "As for you, your highness, I would strongly recommend against letting anyone else find out about our little secret." Randor's jaw clenched. He, too, confined his response to a nod. "You gentlemen are being very quiet. I'd have expected you'd thank me, Randor, for –"
"Thank you?" Duncan spluttered. "What would he –" Randor put a hand on Duncan's arm in a vise-like grip and the engineer fell silent.
The imposter gave them both a supercilious smile. "Why, for not crippling his son."
Duncan opened his mouth again, but Randor tightened his grip. "Thank you," he said firmly. "Thank you for not crippling him."
"Very good, Randor. You're learning." Randor could hear Duncan grinding his teeth. "Man-at-Arms, you should observe your lord and master to learn appropriate behavior."
Randor closed his eyes and took a deep breath to control his temper. When he opened them again, the imposter had turned away and was dismissing his spell. "Wait," he said. The imposter turned back and raised an inquiring eyebrow. Striving to keep his voice calm and not accusing, Randor said, "Please, will you send them some antibiotics and bandages?"
"Well, Randor, I see you really are learning." He looked thoughtful. "You might also consider something to ameliorate the poison in that beast's claws." Randor's eyes widened. "Oh, don't worry, it's nothing lethal, just uncomfortable."
"Leave it to me, Randor," Duncan said, going to the cupboards and rummaging through. Randor nodded, and turned back to the imposter.
"What did you do to Mekanek?"
"Oh, him?" The weasel shrugged. "I'm afraid that was my fault. He overheard me talking to myself, and I could tell that he wouldn't be able to keep the secret."
"Will he wake up?"
"Oh yes. I thought I'd take a cue from one of Evil-Lyn's more amusing ideas." Randor's brows knit. What could he mean? "That 'master' won't awaken until he receives a kiss from a prince."
"So he, too, is a hostage till you get what you want."
The imposter shrugged. "If that's how you view it." He tilted his head. "You really do have too many people you care about, Randor. It's far too easy to get a handle on you."
"Your assessment is noted," Randor said through clenched teeth. The imposter winked at him. Randor turned away abruptly to keep from wiping the smarmy look off his face.
"This should about cover it," Duncan said, presenting a basin full of supplies to the king. Randor nodded and started to hand the basin to the imposter. He paused, though, at a sudden thought. "You don't actually have to go there to take this, do you?"
"What, don't you want me to visit your little boy?"
"Not really, no."
The imposter chuckled. "No. I'll just send it in the way I send the food." He took the basin and turned to go. Before he left, though, he gave Duncan a steely look. "I'll expect to see you after dinner with news on my machine."
"You will."
"I'd better." With that, he left.
Randor sank into the chair by the bed and buried his face in his hands. "And now there are three," he murmured.
Duncan sank onto the bed. "I had no idea – my god, how horrible. It was bad enough when I thought Adam was just behaving poorly. But seeing that perversity looking out through Adam's eyes is – well – disturbing." Randor nodded. "And you've been living with this alone for three days?"
"Dorgan found out on the second day."
Duncan reached out and picked up the viewer. "How do you make this work?" he asked.
When they activated the magical artifact, Adam appeared to be unconscious, and Teela was attempting to clean the gashes in the back of his leg using bandages from her little kit. The bleeding had clearly stopped, but the wounds were swelling enormously. "I hope he gets that anti-venom to them quickly," Duncan murmured.
Teela sat back on her heels, and sighed, looking around at the tiny space. She stood up in surprise as the breakfast plates vanished and were replaced by the basin of supplies they had gathered. She approached it very cautiously, and, recognizing what it was, began quickly emptying out the contents. When she found the anti-venom, she scanned the directions and applied it at once. The swelling seemed to begin reducing almost immediately, and Randor sighed with relief.
"Thank the Elders she's there," Randor breathed, watching her bandage the wounds meticulously. Realizing what he'd just said, he looked up at Duncan's face contritely. "I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking."
Duncan shook his head. "No, don't apologize. I was actually thinking the same thing, more or less. Adam needs someone there to take care of him."
Randor closed his eyes. "Duncan, what did I do to deserve such friendship?" His advisor didn't respond in words, just put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm just glad she'll be by his side when he's king one day."
Duncan squeezed his shoulder. "Adam will have many staunch friends beside him on that distant day." Randor noted with wry amusement that Duncan placed extra emphasis on 'distant.' Together, they returned to their observation of their children.
After ascertaining that the anti-toxin was taking effect, Teela had returned to sorting through the supplies, laying them in piles according to their function. She'd always been a very methodical girl, Randor thought, remembering her piling her blocks up in just such a manner preparatory to building some high-flying structure. When she picked up the burn ointment, he could see that it puzzled her. She looked at it, turning it over in her hands slowly, then realization dawned on her face and she turned back to Adam who lay on the mattress on the floor, innocently unaware of her alarm.
She fell to her knees, and stopped, stymied. Randor wondered what she was going to do. Very gently, she turned him over and opened the shirt of his pajamas. Adam didn't stir as she drew his arms, like a doll's, out of the sleeves. The makeshift bandage riveted her attention and she deftly unwound Adam's work. Both he and Duncan got a very good look at the injury as she examined it closely, her back stiffening in fury as she realized that it had to have been deliberately inflicted.
Randor, having seen it before, had known what to expect, but still, the burn in the shape of a gripping hand turned his stomach. Duncan looked poleaxed. "That man has much to answer for," he muttered. With expert fingers, Teela applied the ointment, turning the arm carefully so she could reach all of it. The most intense burning had clearly taken place at the palm and the tips of the fingers, where the grip was most firm. Randor bit his lip, but couldn't look away as she rebandaged the arm with a fresh, clean cloth. "Randor," Duncan snapped, "show me your burn!"
"What?" he looked up into his friend's demanding eyes. "Duncan, no!"
"You said Adam's was less severe than your own. Let me see it."
"Dorgan will not be pleased if I unbandage it to satisfy your morbid curiosity!"
"Morbid – Randor, I am a soldier in your service! I cannot believe that you were attacked here in this very palace and you did not come immediately to tell me. I had to drag it out of your physician!"
"I couldn't Duncan, surely you can see why! If you didn't know, Teela would be here, safe and sound."
"If I didn't know, Marlena and I would have locked you up with your erratic behavior. Randor, you can't – you shouldn't have tried to handle this alone!"
Randor looked away from the worried and exasperated face of his friend down to the viewer. Teela was now examining every square inch of Adam's torso for other injuries. When it became clear that Randor was not going to respond, Duncan sighed heavily and turned back to watch as well. Teela, rolling Adam over again, looked at his back. Randor started when he saw a set of fresh pajamas appear on the bed. Teela jumped at the sudden appearance, and she looked around for a threat. Finding merely the pajamas, she reached out and picked them up. After a thorough examination, she tossed them back on the bed and looked back down at Adam. Taking a deep breath, she very carefully cut away the waist band of his pants in the back and then slit down both legs.
Adam's legs were still blotchy and discolored from the casts he'd worn for two months, and she moved them in order to look them over carefully. As she did so, Randor noticed the scar on his right thigh. When Tri-Klops had blown up the door of his bedroom two months ago, a huge chunk of wood had stabbed into Adam's leg like a spear. He'd been attempting to protect his father when that blow had landed.
Randor set his teeth against the tide of bitter invective that threatened to flood out. He was infuriated by what this evil monster's machinations were doing to his son.
Teela finished her examination of Adam's legs and sat back on her heels, looking down at his pelvic area, which was covered by gray, drawstring undershorts. The boy lay on his back, his head turned to the side, face flushed and sweating slightly. "Teela," her father murmured in a remonstrative tone. "Don't stop now. It won't hurt him, and you need to find out, and then get him under covers." Very tentatively, as if she'd heard her father's chiding comment, Teela untied the shorts and lifted the waistband slightly, peering sidelong. Before she could have seen anything, she shook her head and re-tied them. "I'm going to have to have a talk with her when she gets back," Duncan said, pursing his lips.
"Don't be too hard on her, Duncan, she's only sixteen." Duncan just shook his head.
After carefully laying out the blanket and the quilt, she rolled Adam off the mattress and put it back on the bed. She managed to get the fresh pajama pants onto him, then lifted him from the floor to the low bed and covered him up as well as she could with both of the blankets. When she was sure that he was resting comfortably, she stood up and looked around the room. Randor could hardly imagine her feelings.
It took a depressingly short time for her to get a good look at her surroundings, though she spent a little while gazing at Adam's carvings on the walls. She, too, put a hand on the engraved doorknob, her fingers lingering on it thoughtfully. Then she turned and looked at the contents of the room. He could almost see her itemizing them. One chair, one table, one chest, one potted plant. She walked over and picked up the plant to look at it, clearly puzzled by its presence. A piece of paper on the table caught her attention and she picked it up. Randor suddenly realized that it was the note he'd written to Adam. He groaned.
"What?" demanded Duncan. "What is it? Is there something wrong?"
"Not exactly. That's just the letter I wrote to Adam."
Duncan glared at him incredulously. "Randor, you gave me a heart attack over a letter?"
Randor shrugged, unsure just why it made him so uncomfortable to watch her reading the words he'd penned for his son. It wasn't as though it was actually a very private missive – the imposter had read it. She scanned the letter quickly, her brows knitting as she read. When she was done, she raised an eyebrow at the potted plant and snorted. She put the letter back down on the table, carefully placing it just as she'd found it with a mildly embarrassed look. Then she turned to the chest, and Cringer's picture. Her eyes softened, and she tilted her head, reaching out to touch the tiger's painted face. She said something, but Randor couldn't see what it was. Probably reassuring words for the tiger.
"I've got to go visit Cringer," Randor said absently.
"Cringer!" Duncan exclaimed. "No wonder he had Adam pinned to the wall – he knew it wasn't him." Randor nodded. "And that explains your odd attitude."
"I actually kind of enjoyed his look of terror, I must admit."
"You didn't hide it very well." Randor sighed. "I think I'd better visit Cringer as well. Does he know what's going on?"
"I told him, though I don't know how much he really understood, but we had a good long visit. I do have to go back, though. The poor fellow must be very depressed with Adam missing and himself locked away."
The chest was open when Randor looked back down, and Teela was going through the contents. There wasn't much in there since Adam had pulled out the books and placed them against the wall. When she was done, she replaced the picture on top of the chest and stood up, hands on her hips. Slowly, she turned, surveying the whole space, a disgusted expression on her face. Randor was looking at her when she spoke, and he could have sworn she said, "Well, this is just great."
Duncan chuckled. "That's my girl," he said.