The Maze

by Trudie Collins

  “We simply tell Sam to wake up,” Ellen continued, “and no matter how bad her injuries, her eyes will open.”

  “So why is it dangerous?” one of the younger healers asked.

  Ellen took a deep breath. “Apart from the healer being able to kill the patient you mean? When the two minds join, only the patient can break the connection. If they are unable or unwilling to do this, patient and healer will remain mentally joined and the healer would be unable to awaken from her trance. Within a day she would be dead.” The young lady who had asked the question visibly paled. “Complete trust is required, as the healer can easily kill the patient and the patient can, just as easily, kill the healer. We are unable to ask Sam’s permission to attempt this, so if we go ahead we will be violating her.”

  She stopped speaking and silence filled the room. Delving into someone’s mind without their permission went against everything a healer believed in. Eventually one of the elder healers spoke. “Personally, I do not see that we have a choice. We have to do this.” Nobody disagreed, so runners were sent to the kitchen with a list of ingredients they would need to put one of them into the trance. They discussed who should perform the mind meld and the decision was unanimous. Though Ellen had never attempted it before, Sam would trust her and trust was more important than anything else when attempting this particular spell.

  Tea was brewed using various herbs from the kitchen and the healers’ personal supplies. Ellen drank two cups of the liquid, forcing herself to keep swallowing. It was not the vilest drink she had ever tasted, but it came close. She then sat on the bed next to Sam, her hands firmly holding the unconscious young woman’s head. The four most experienced healers sat on chairs placed beside the four corners of the bed and began to chant. Ellen’s eyelids became heavy so she let them drop. She felt strange, like she was just waking up from a deep sleep. She could hear the chanting in the background, but felt like she was slowly losing connection with her own body. As the link weakened, she felt an attachment to Sam’s body begin to form and strengthen. As soon as she felt the link was strong enough, she spoke to Sam with her mind.

  “Sam, we need you to wake up,” she said gently. No reaction. “Sam, please wake up,” she tried, more firmly. Still no reaction. “Sam, wake up now,” she commanded. Sam’s eyes shot open and she inhaled deeply. “Break the link,” Ellen called out with her mind and almost instantly found herself back in her own body. The link with Sam had been successfully severed.

  She came out of the trance to find Sam sitting up in bed, smiling and talking. There was no sign of damage, either physical or mental, and Ellen sank into a chair with relief. She listened as Sam was inundated with questions, all designed to ascertain whether there was a risk that Sam would slip back into her coma. When all of the healers were satisfied, they politely said their goodbyes and departed from the room, leaving Ellen and Sam alone.

  Sam had no memory of being struck by Brin’s arrow and Ellen filled her in on all that had happened. She used magic to reheat some broth that had been sent by Mrs Hubert earlier and Sam reluctantly consumed it as they talked, occasionally making comments that meat would be better for her, which Ellen ignored. Sam soon felt tired, so Ellen told her to get some sleep and promised to be back later to check on her. Sam was asleep before Ellen left the room. She quietly slipped out, silently pulling the door closed behind her, and almost screamed as she walked straight into Tor. She gave him a quick update on Sam’s condition, then headed to her own room, the need for sleep overwhelming her.

  When Tor returned to the inn he was smiling. “They managed to wake her,” he announced. “She drank some water and even a small amount of broth. She has no memory of being injured and is extremely weak, but at least she is sleeping now rather than being unconscious.” Brin was running towards the door before Tor had finished speaking. Ban made a move to go after him, but Tor waved him back down. “Let him go. The healers have done all they can, so he will be allowed in to see her.”

  He looked at Dal, who was leaning against Seth, and frowned. “What is wrong with him?” he asked, giving Seth a suspicious look.

  “No idea,” Seth replied, a little too quickly. “Probably just tired.”

  “That would explain the snoring then.” Somehow he managed to keep his face straight as he spoke. Did Seth really think he would not recognize a young lad who had had too much alcohol when he saw one? He had, after all, witnessed Seth in such a state on numerous occasions in the past. He glanced across at Ban and Patrick, both of whom had suddenly found the ceiling fascinating. He returned his gaze to Seth. “Get him back to the palace and into bed to sleep it off,” he instructed. “Then you and I are going to have a little talk.”

  “How much did he have?” Patrick asked once Tor had departed.

  “Not much,” Seth replied, a little concerned. “Two or three, four max. Not enough to get himself drunk.”

  Ban laughed. “Maybe the pup has never had alcohol before. If that is the case, he is going to be very ill when he wakes up. Come on. Some fresh air will do him good.”

  Seth slapped Dal round the face a few times, trying to wake him up. The young man opened one eye, grinned, then closed it again. Seth hauled him to his feet and, with Patrick’s help, managed to manoeuvre him out of the inn without falling on any of the other patrons. He began to sway as the fresh air hit him.

  “If he pukes on my shoes, you will be cleaning them,” Patrick growled at Seth as they began to half drag, half carry, Dal down the street. The journey back seemed incredibly long and they had not reached the palace gates when Dal started to become more lucid.

  Looking left and right he could make out blurry images and recognised the men who where assisting him. “Patrick, Seth,” he said, slurring his words. Looking down he saw the street. “What happened to the floor?” he asked, then belched loudly.

  “We are walking home,” Seth informed him. “You need to go to bed.”

  “You are a good man, looking after me like this,” he slurred at Seth. Then he turned to Patrick. “This is a good man,” he said and tried to slap Seth on the back, resulting in all three of them almost falling to the ground. “I love this man,” he continued before his head fell forwards and he began to snore again.

  A deep laugh could be heard from behind them. “You could help you know,” Seth said, turning round to address Ban while trying not to lose his grip on his burden. Taking pity on them, Ban took hold of Dal, put him over his shoulder and strode off towards the palace gates.

  “He could have done that earlier,” Patrick complained. “That kid is going to have one sore head in the morning. I am so looking forward to it.” He smiled viciously.

  “Take that smile off your face. Have you forgotten we have to see Tor as soon as we get back? And I get the impression that he is pretty pissed at us.”

  The smile did not leave Patrick’s face. “Not us, you,” he said pleasantly. “I distinctly remember him saying he wanted to see you later, not me. Enjoy your evening.” He walked after Ban, leaving Seth wishing he had a dagger to throw at his retreating back.

  “I really hate that man sometimes,” he moaned before bracing himself to find Tor and face the lecture he knew was coming.

  It was as bad as he had been expecting. It would have been better if Tor had shouted, but he had kept his voice calm and his temper under control. For some reason, that made things worse. The lecture had lasted a while. It had started with the dangers of drinking too much and the damage it could do to someone who was not used to it. Seth had tried to explain that Dal had not really had much, but Tor would not listen. He went on to tell Seth he was a bad influence on an impressionable young man and that he had let both Dal and himself down. Tor did not mention the fact that Seth had also let him down; there was no need. When Seth was eventually allowed to speak he tried to defend himself, saying that Dal was no longer a boy and Tor should stop treating him like one. The look he received in reply instantly silenced that argument. Next came the punishment.
Seth would be nursemaid for the young man, who would definitely be in need of one when he awoke. When Tor had finally finished admonishing him and allowed him to leave, Seth headed towards Dal’s room, wanting to check that he was alright before heading to his own bed.

  While he was still within earshot, Tor called him back. “If you so much as think of suggesting ‘hair of the dog’ as a cure, you will regret it,” he warned.

  “Never even crossed my mind,” Seth lied. Tor just shook his head. Seth was still a young man, he had to remind himself. He hoped he had learned his lesson and would be more responsible around Dal, but doubts filled him. He watched Seth slip into Dal’s room then headed off in search of Ban and Patrick. Though he was certain that it was Seth who had supplied the ale, Ban and Patrick had done nothing to stop him. Those two were old enough to know better and had a lot of explaining to do.

  Seth found Dal fast asleep on top of the bed. Ban had obviously just laid him down then left him. Seth removed the young man’s boots and socks and contemplated removing the rest of his clothes. Remembering Dal’s reaction to bathing with the other men, and how he had wanted privacy when being measured for his clothes for the royal wedding, he decided that Dal would prefer to be left fully clothed. A spare blanket lay at the end of the bed, so he gently laid it over the young man, who was now snoring loudly, and headed out to search for his own bed.

  Brin had gone straight to Sam’s room as soon as he had reached the palace. He knocked gently, but received no reply, so he quietly opened the door and slipped silently into the room. A few lamps still emitted a soft light and the scent of the burnt leaves and herbs was still discernable, making the room rather romantic. Sam was on her back, sleeping quietly, and Brin sat down in a chair next to her bed, watching her chest slowly rise and fall as she breathed. It was almost hypnotic and Brin soon drifted off to sleep.

  He was awoken a few hours later by Ellen returning to the room. She placed a hand on Sam’s forehead, checking for signs of the fever having returned. There was no trace of heat or sweat and, though it was hard to tell in the dull illumination the lamps provided, a little colour appeared to have returned to her cheeks. Ellen was optimistic that her patient would make a full recovery, though it may take a while.

  She gently shook Brin awake. “Your neck is going to be stiff and painful in the morning if you insist on spending the night in that chair,” she whispered.

  “I will not leave her,” Brin replied.

  “Then at least sleep in the bed next to her. I am sure she will not mind.” Ellen smiled at the speed with which Brin leapt out of the chair and slipped slowly under the covers next to Sam. He placed an arm lovingly around her and fell back to sleep.

  “Sleep well,” she said quietly and silently left the room.

  Chapter 4

  Liselle looked up from the book she was reading. It had been three days since they had returned to Vada and she had spent the majority of her time in the library with Bellak. “Well, I have managed to confirm the rumours that Modo told us about, but that is about all,” she informed the wizard. He grunted in reply. She was becoming increasingly concerned about him. Since Sam’s near death experience, he had not slept for more than a couple of hours at a time and was barely eating. Sam was recovering well and was able to receive visitors, but the old man had refused to see her, claiming he was too busy looking for references to Ukland maze.

  She sighed and returned to the book she was browsing. They had found numerous mentions of the maze and a number of authors claimed to have personal knowledge of friends or relatives entering it, but never returning. But the single most important piece of information was missing from every account; where was the maze located? Liselle found it very disturbing that some of the volumes she had been reading were written a few hundred years ago while others were a lot more recent. ‘How long has this maze existed?’ she wondered.

  She stretched and rubbed her back, which was aching more each day. Torrick was giving her massages each night, but their soothing effects were soon diminished when she recommenced her studying the next morning. She was no longer able to find a comfortable position and she had developed a headache that not even Ellen had managed to cure.

  Others had volunteered to help, but Bellak had insisted that they would just get in the way and that he and Liselle would find the answers quicker if they were left alone. She no longer shared his optimism. Her eyes were drifting over the open page in front of her, not really seeing the words, when they were drawn to a paragraph at the bottom. She sat up and reread it, this time taking in what she was reading.

  Uk, last Duke of Heyjun, was murdered in his bed by his only daughter so she could marry her lover. Duke Uk had built a maze, into which all prospective spouses were thrown, with instructions to retrieve the wedding ring from the centre. Only a man truly worthy of his daughter’s hand in marriage would succeed. None ever returned.

  Excitement surged through Liselle. She opened her mouth to tell Bellak about her discovery, then changed her mind, deciding to do more research first. Step one was to look for any reference to a place called Heyjun. Allias owned a collection of books which claimed to list every city, town, village, region or country, both current and historic, along with their locations. She soon found the correct volume and discovered three references to Heyjun; a village in northern Mercia, a town which was located in southern Remeny before it was destroyed by raiders over four hundred years ago, and a small country, conquered long ago to become part of Auxland. Next she found some large maps of Auxland and spread them out on the table. One was from a period before Heyjun was conquered and she compared significant features on the map with those referenced in the description of Heyjun’s location. Finally she compared the old map to a more recent one. If her calculations were correct, Heyjun used to exist in the middle of Annan forest, or, to be more precise, where the forest would later take root, somewhere near the Auxland/Emvale border.

  She sat back and sighed loudly. It was getting late. Should she let Bellak know what she had discovered? She decided to take the rest of the evening off and discuss it with her husband. If he thought she was adding two and two together and making five, she would start from scratch again in the morning. If not, she would tackle Bellak after they had both had a good night’s sleep and he was more likely to be receptive to her somewhat shaky logic; if he managed to get any sleep that was.

  Meanwhile, Sam was enjoying her first bath in what felt like months. Ellen had finally declared that she was fit enough to be allowed out of her room, but would not permit her to walk far. Worried that he would disturb her patient’s rest too much, Ellen had banned Brin from Sam’s room, allowing only short supervised visits during the day, and a guard kept all visitors away at night. Sam relaxed in the warm water, allowing her mind to wander, imagining her hands doing their own wandering next time she got the elf alone. She did not look up when she heard the door open. Ellen was waiting for her outside and would not let anyone in, so Sam assumed it was just a serving girl delivering clean towels. She was surprised to not hear any approaching footsteps, but not enough to bother opening her eyes when she heard a jug being placed in the water beside her then felt water soak through her hair as it was tipped over her. Her head was laid back so the water did not run down her face, though she felt a hand place a cloth across her forehead as a precaution.

  When she felt strong hands rubbing shampoo into her hair while massaging her scalp, she emitted a low involuntary moan. Those hands felt really good. She held her breath as the jug was used to rinse her off and exhaled slowly as the hands lifted her slightly, allowing their owner to slip into the water behind her. She opened her eyes, but did not look round, as she felt well muscled legs wrap themselves around her and the hands began to rub her neck and shoulders, gently at first, then becoming firmer. She closed her eyes in pleasure and relaxed back, enjoying the feel of the movements against her flesh. Her masseur was pressed closely to her back, enabling her to tell that the rub down he was givin
g her was not the only thing that was getting harder. He was definitely male. No words were spoken as his hands started drifting down her arms and she did not open her eyes. Soft lips found her neck and the kisses turned into gentle nibbles as the hands worked their way slowly across her stomach then up her rib cage towards her breasts. They paused momentarily, giving her the opportunity to halt their progress, then began to caress, making her nipples stiffen. Desire coursed through her, making her gasp. The touch that was driving her wild began to descend again, causing her heart rate to increase until all she could hear was its loud beating. Fingers brushed down the outside of her thighs then traced their way back up the inside with agonizing slowness.

  Sam parted her legs slightly, silently praying for the hands to go higher. Disappointment hit her as she felt the touch return to her outer thighs and move downwards again, only to be replaced by excitement as the hands once again began their upward journey. This time they went higher, breaking off their ascent at the last possible moment, not touching her where she was craving to be touched. The nibbles on her neck stopped abruptly, only to be replaced by kisses down the spine, stopping when they reached the water. As the soft mouth started to move upwards the hands returned, encouraging Sam’s legs to part a little more, making access easier. Nibbles took over from the kisses and Sam realised she was holding her breath in anticipation. Her breathing became short and sharp as one of the fingers probing between her legs slipped inside her and was soon followed by another one. They expertly moved in and out of her, making her entire body tremble as she felt the orgasm build. When the climax finally took her she was unable to contain her shout of ecstasy.

  Hands returned to her sides, but the kisses continued and the need inside of her did not abate. She was just about to beg for more when she was lifted upwards into a standing position. She turned round and looked Brin in the eyes. The words running through her brain remained unspoken; they were not needed. He took her hand and led her to a towel he had placed by the side of the pool, where she lay down. He lay on top of her, opening her legs as he slipped his between them. His mouth met hers and he kissed her. This was nothing like the gentle loving kisses her body had received in the pool. Instead it was hard and passionate, his tongue probing against her lips until she parted them to let him in. Inside the pool she had been warm, now she was hot, and she knew it had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. Her hands caressed the smooth hairless skin on Brin’s back and she was amazed by how good it felt. Then he was inside her, going deeper with each thrust.