The Enchanted Quest (10 page)

“Treacherous dog!” Rathina hissed, her hand grasping Tania’s, her violent grip crushing her fingers.

But Tania did not think so. “No! He’s playing for time,” she whispered, pulling her hand from Rathina’s. “He’s faking it; I’m sure he is.”

Lord Balor was leaning over the tilted board, his face close to Connor’s, his iron hand gripping Connor’s hair.

“Tell me this,” he growled. “How did the two women evade my men? Commodore Welsh said they became invisible. Is that another of the powers of the Immortal folk? To become invisible at will?”

“No. No, not really,” Connor said. “It’s not quite like that. Tania has the power to . . . to move out of this world and . . . and back again. That’s how they did it. That’s how she brought me here in the first place.”

“Why did you travel with them, boy?” Balor’s voice was a throaty growl. He stood erect and began to pace the floor, the Great Salamander moving sinuously at his side. “What was their purpose with you?”

“I don’t know what they wanted me for,” said Connor, a new confidence creeping now into his voice. “They didn’t confide in me, but I think they trust me. Tania knows I can’t get home without her—she’d never expect me to turn on her. Let me go and I promise I’ll find a way to bring them to you. But I want something in exchange.” Connor swallowed hard. “When you find the secret of Immortality, let me share it with you. That’s all I ask. I can even help you worm it out of them. And then you can force Tania to take me home.” His eyes shone with a cold light. “That way we both get what we want.”

“Ha!” Balor’s voice was a derisory explosion. The iron hand came slapping across Connor’s face, wrenching his head sideways. Tania winced as he cried out in pain.

“I’ll need no help,” mocked Balor. “I know how to find their secret once I have them in my grasp.” He stared fiercely at Connor’s agonized face. “And I do not need to release you, boy. I need only wait for them to come slinking out of the night in search of you. Even with all their tricks of the senses, they’ll not escape Dorcha Tur once they pass within its walls. My guards are warned and wary.” He lifted his iron hand and balled it into a tight fist. “It is only a matter of time before I have them in my clutches.”

Tania heard the sound of heavy footfalls. She sprang upright, turning to the closed door. Rathina was at her side in an instant, her Isenmort sword at the ready.

As Tania watched, her heart hammering, she saw the door latch lifting.

Tania caught Rathina’s wrist and dragged her into the deep shadows behind the raised stone octagon. They crouched there together, hardly daring to breathe, listening as the door was pushed open.

“They are not here,” declared a guttural voice.

“How can we know that for sure?” asked another. “Commodore Welsh says they have the power of invisibility.”

“Aye,” mocked the first voice, “and I am King of all the Faeries! The women tricked him, that’s all!”

The second voice became low. “Then you do not believe in the powers of the Immortal folk from across the sea?”

“Speak such thoughts only in whispers,” murmured the first. “But I believe the testimony of my own eyes, Dalbach. I would speak this to no other, but Lord Balor is fuddled in his wits if he truly thinks there are Immortal beings beyond the eastern horizon.”

The second voice sounded uneasy now. “You say our lord is mad, then?”

“I say he fears death above all things,” said the first. “He has walked this world one hundred and fifteen years, and he knows the span of his life is drawing to its close. All things has he mastered, man and beast, land and sea—but this one thing eludes him: how to master death itself!”

“But if there be no Faerie folk, whence came the iron? Answer me that, friend Laragh.”

“I cannot,” said Laragh. “But we need look not to the distant east for unnatural happenstances—is there not enchantment enough beyond the River Blackwater? Go seek out the Witch Queen of Erin before you give mind to the Faerie stories of the east. Come, there are many more chambers and arteries to search this night ere we can take to our beds!”

Tania heard the sound of boots clattering on the stones, then the thud and click of the door closing.

“Well, now,” said Rathina, grinning in the light from the spy-hole. “So, we are but chimera? Flibbertigibbets of the mind, forsooth. It will work in our favor that they do not think us real.”

“Yes, it will,” said Tania. “We need to find a way to get Connor away from that crazy lord down there.” Tania had been vaguely aware of the low rumble of Balor’s voice running under the conversation between the two soldiers, but now as she leaned in to look through one of the spy-holes again, the deadly lower chamber was silent. Connor seemed to be alone, his head tipped exhaustedly to one side, his features contorted in fear and discomfort.

Tania longed to call down to him, to let him know they were close by. But she didn’t dare; Balor might still be within earshot.

Tania closed her eyes.
“Eden? I can see him—but I don’t know how to reach him. Help me, please?”

There was no response. Either Eden’s power was spent or the eye of her mind was concentrated elsewhere. Either way Tania and Rathina were alone.

“We search for stairways leading down,” Tania decided. “Okay?”

“And we should avoid all contact with these people,” added Rathina. “We fight only if we must.”

Tania nodded. It wasn’t only the overwhelming odds that worried her; it was the thought of having to bring her blade down on living people. She had fought without qualms the undead soldiers of Lyonesse and she had lifted her blade against their monstrous King—but she had never had to use a sword against ordinary men.

They slipped silently out of the viewing gallery, swords in hand, ears straining for the slightest sound as they crept along the corridor. The castle was on alert. Tania was reconciled to fighting if they had to— but she clung to the hope that they might make their rescue and escape without bloodshed.

A corkscrew stair took them deeper. The air was dank and stale in these lower regions, the torches fewer and farther apart. White mildew patched the stones, and there was a foul smell.

Footsteps!

Tania pressed Rathina into an alcove. A troop of armed men stamped past, their boots ringing and echoing.

They moved out of cover, gliding silently along a leftward spur of the corridor. It ended in a single heavy door, bolted and barred and secured with a great stone lock.

“I think this is it,” Tania whispered, glancing back along the dark slot of the corridor. “I think it must be.”

“A fine place for a snare,” Rathina murmured, pointing her sword back along the way they had come. “A single way in—and we two caught like butterflies in the killing jar if our enemies come upon us.”

“I can’t help that,” said Tania. She drew the almond-shaped leaf from a fold of her bodice and touched it to the door. The bars lifted. The bolts drew themselves back. There was the dry scrape of stone on stone—and the door swung ponderously inward.

Tania ran into the high, circular chamber. Connor was there—his round eyes amazed as he stared at her. There was a raw, red welt on his cheek where the iron hand had struck him.

“Thank god!” he choked, relief flooding his face. “I thought . . . I . . .”

“It’s okay,” Tania said, moving quickly between the ghastly instruments of torture. His fingers strained for her against the leather thong. She took his hand in hers. It was cold and clammy. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I lost hold of you. I couldn’t get back.”

“There’s a guy here—a crazy guy,” said Connor, gasping. “He knows you’re coming for me.”

“Yes, I know.”

Rathina was at Connor’s side now. She began to saw at his bonds with her sword. Tania sliced through the leather thongs at Connor’s wrist, supporting him as he slumped forward.

“Have they used you ill, Master Connor?” Rathina asked, bringing her shoulder up under his arm. “Can you walk?”

“They smacked me in the mouth on the ship to try to get me to tell them where you’d gone,” Connor said breathlessly. “But apart from threatening me with some of the nasty stuff in here, they haven’t hurt me too much.” He hunkered down, taking deep breaths and rubbing his legs. “So stiff!” he said. “Give me a moment to get the blood flowing again.”

Rathina picked up his shirt and cloak from where they lay discarded on the floor. He nodded his thanks and began to dress himself, grimacing as he bent his numbed limbs. Rathina glanced apprehensively toward the open door. “I’d be out of this place as swift as may be,” she said. “ ’Tis a bag to catch a woodcock!”

“Rathina’s right,” said Tania. “It’s too dangerous in here. Do you know where Balor went?”

“No.” Connor stared at her, buttoning his shirt. “He’s got an iron hand, Tania, and he’s got this huge lizard-thing he keeps on a chain. A metal chain!”

“Yes, I know.” She pointed upward. In the high dome of the ceiling the peepholes showed as dark, gaping mouths. “There’s a room up there for people to watch what goes on in here.”

“Oh, nice. . . .” Connor shook his head. “It’s totally medieval here,” he said. “And not civilized medieval like Faerie—it’s like blood-and-guts medieval.”

Rathina ran to the door, leaning into the dark corridor, listening.

“I hear no one,” she said. “But ’tis most strange. Why are there no guards? Why is Master Connor left alone? Are we lured here to our destruction?”

“Let’s worry about that later,” said Tania. “Connor? You okay now?”

“Yes. But I could use a shower.”

“I don’t think they have plumbing here,” Tania said wryly.

“No. Neither do I.”

They raced from the chamber, Tania pausing for a moment outside to close the door and shoot the bolts and lower the bars. Until the door was opened, no one would realize Connor was gone.

They ran along the corridors, Tania leading, Connor next, and Rathina bringing up the rear. At every corner and intersection Tania paused, listening. Several times they had close calls as small bands of men traversed a corridor ahead of them or were heard approaching.

“Do you know the way out of this warren?” Rathina asked in a low voice while they waited at a junction for footsteps to fade.

“From the ground level we went down three sets of stairs to get to the torture chamber,” said Tania. “If I’ve calculated it right, we should be back on ground level now. We just need to find an exit.”

“And then get through the gates before we’re caught,” said Connor, his voice anxious. “Have you seen the size of those gates? There’s no chance we could get them open without someone seeing us. And they have horses stabled here. Even if we get clear, they’ll run us down in no time flat.” He looked hopefully at Tania. “Unless you can get us out of here with your between-the-worlds trick?”

“I’m not doing that unless there’s absolutely no other choice,” Tania told him. “This hill is much higher here than it is in Ireland—I noticed that when we first climbed it. We’d appear in midair. The fall could break our necks.”

“It’s got to be the gates, then,” said Connor.

They had come to a wide vestibule from which several corridors led. Tall arched doors stood on a stone threshold, and there were narrow window slits to either side.

“Hush!” said Rathina, lifting her hand. She tilted up her chin and sniffed the air. “I smell horses!” she said. “ ’Tis a good smell. It reminds me of my own Maddalena. There are stables close or I’m no judge.” She smiled. “Shall we ride? Such speed would aid us.”

“Fine,” said Connor. “But that still leaves the gates!”

“I can deal with the gates,” said Tania. “We just have to get to them in one piece, that’s all.”

“To the stables, then,” said Rathina.

Tania touched the leaf to the arched doors and they swung open. Connor stared at the doorway then looked questioningly at Tania.

“Long story,” she said. “I’ll explain later.”

With Rathina now in the lead they came into a wide cobbled bailey over which mountainous stone walls reared. There were windows, but they were thin and dark. Rathina pointed silently, and they headed for a long range of buildings set up against the wall.

Tania pressed the leaf to a great square door. It swung out, releasing the scent of hay and oiled leather and the musk of horses.

The long stable room was unlit, and it was a few moments before Tania could make out the stalls.

“Can you smell their sweet breath?” murmured Rathina, walking forward over rustling straw. “A crime it is to trammel such creatures in so grim a citadel.”

Tania saw her step up to a dark horse and gently fondle its head. “There, there, my lad,” she crooned. “We’ll do thee no harm. Fear not.” She looked back at Connor and Tania. “I do not have my sister Cordelia’s way with beasts, but I know horses. Master Connor, will you seek saddles and bridles? Tania, remain at the door. See that no one intrudes while we get ready.”

Tania stared nervously out into the bleak night, her sword ready in her hand. She heard soft sounds behind her—the clatter of a hoof on stone, the snort of heavy breath, the slap and creak of leather, and the chink of crystal trappings.

The clack of hooves came up close behind her. Rathina was leading two horses, Connor a third. “Mount up, sister.”

Tania climbed awkwardly into the saddle. She could feel the animal breathing beneath her. She twisted the reins through the fingers of her left hand, her sword steady in the right.

Is this crazy? Are we really going to be able to run the gates like this?

But what was the alternative? Even if they managed to escape Dorcha Tur by using that same postern door, they would be on foot in a land alive with Lord Balor’s hunters. As wild and as reckless as this seemed, if they made it through the gates on horseback, they would at least have some hope of outrunning capture.

Rathina pressed her heels into her horse’s flanks. Tania followed with Connor alongside her.

The din of hooves on stone rang between the high walls. But still no one came.

The night held its breath. The stars trembled in the sky. The walls pressed in on them like the jaws of a trap. Tania could hardly hear the percussion of the hooves above the drumming of the blood in her temples.

They turned a corner and saw the gatehouse ahead of them. All was in darkness. Tania had a sensation between her shoulder blades like a slow fire burning in her spine.

Clack, clack of hooves on stone. Jingle of harness. Groan of leather.

The gatehouse came nearer. Even the guardroom set into the outer wall was in darkness.

Where are the guards? What
is
this?

A light flared, sudden, harsh in the gloom, red as fresh blood.

A man ran from the guardroom carrying a lantern like those from the ship. Another followed. Then another. A door cracked open behind them and more soldiers came pouring out, lantern-lit, their swords gleaming rosy as they swarmed the three riders.

“Do not kill them!” roared Lord Balor’s voice from high on the walls. “They are useless to me dead!”

Tania’s horse reared, the breath blowing from his nostrils, his eyes rolling. Rathina let out a shout of anger and defiance.

More soldiers appeared on the walls, strings tight on yew bows, arrows aiming into the snare of the courtyard.

“The leaf!” Rathina shouted. “Swiftly, sister!”

A hand grasped for Tania’s reins. She swung her sword, and the man jumped back. But she was surrounded, her horse agitated, turning this way and that, whickering and stamping.

She pulled the leaf from her bodice and impaled it on the tip of the sword. Then she drew back her right arm, and using all the power of her back and shoulders, she hurled the sword toward the closed gates.

It ran like white lightning through the night, striking the door and quivering in the wood, singing shrilly. Voices rose all around Tania and hands reached for her again now that she was unarmed.

But the moment the crystal sword pierced the wood, the heavy beams lifted and the massive bolts withdrew and the great doors heaved themselves open into the courtyard.

“Ride!” Rathina screamed. “Ride!”

The soldiers were in an uproar now, snatching at Tania as she kicked her horse into action, trying to rip her from the saddle. But Rathina was among them, her sword whirling, the iron blade sending the men reeling backward with shouts and screams.

The air became shrill with arrows, glancing off the walls and striking up from the cobbles. Tania kicked out, leaning low over her horse’s neck as she urged it forward. She felt the impact as the horse struck men aside. She felt fingers trying to close on her ankles, hands groping for her on all sides.