by Clare Smith
In two steps he was where Jarrul fought a losing battle to hold the monster off and brought the stone down with all the force he could muster. Both stones shattered under the impact and Jarrul's attacker crumpled into a pile of sharp-edged rock. Jonderill pulled the injured man to his feet, ready to defend him but he knew the situation was hopeless as the remaining nine creatures charged into the clearing together.
He grabbed for his sword and held it at the ready whilst he supported Jarrul with his other arm, swallowing his rising panic as the fearsome creatures swarmed towards them at a run. They waited for the crushing impact of the creatures’ bodies but instead the beasts ran passed them and into the forest on the other side. Five wild horsemen charged after the creatures, brandishing newly cut branches to use as clubs.
The slowest of the beasts, the one with just one arm, was overtaken before it reached the trees and its head exploded into shards as the leading horseman removed it from its thick neck with a powerful blow. Neither horse nor rider paused but continued onwards to chase their quarry through the forest until each of them had been ridden down and destroyed.
Another group of horsemen clattered into the clearing and Perguine slid off the back of a shared mount and almost threw himself at Jarrul. "Yer all righ’ old son?" he asked anxiously.
Jarrul nodded. "I'll be fine, thanks to this man. That's twice he's saved my life.
Perguine gave Jonderill a toothy grin. "Thanks, I owes yer one."
"I thought you’d left us?" responded Jonderill in confusion.
"Now woulds I do such a fing?" He gave Jonderill an impish look which made him appear even more like a weasel. "I 'ad to go an' get us some ‘elp otherwise we’d all 'ave been dead meat an' as me mates were all waitin' for me ter signal, I thought I'd better let'um in on the action."
"You mean they have been here all the time?"
"'Course they 'ave, yer don't think I was a 'untin' down all that there food by meself did yer? Gawd man, I's a thief an' a pick pocket, not an 'untsman like me friend Jarrul 'ere."
“Then why didn't they attack the tower in force instead of letting us risk our necks?"
"'Cause it aint the sort of place yer can charge up to an' bang on the door for admittance. Yer said as much yerself, remember?"
"I know but there was only the two of us then."
"It still wouldn't have worked with an entire army behind you," said the rider who had ridden up quietly behind Jonderill. "I suspect Maladran had spells around the place to repel any open assault so it had to be one or two people who went into the tower getting under his defences, which was why you were chosen."
Jonderill swung around to face the speaker, annoyed that he'd been so casually used by someone else. He opened his mouth to say as much and then stopped.
"Hello Jonderill," said Tarraquin, smiling down at him.
"Lady Tarraquin! I thought you were dead!"
She laughed and slipped from her horse, giving Jonderill an embrace which held a touch more of affection than it did of just friendship. "Do I look as though I’m dead?"
"No," said Jonderill, blushing slightly. "You look just as I remember you.
"I flamin' well hope not," she laughed.
"If yer two don't mind," interrupted Perguine, "I thinks we ought ter be gettin' out of 'ere before that black 'earted sorcerer thinks of sommut else ter throw at us."
"I can't go yet," said Jonderill hesitantly. "If you remember I came here to find Prince Pellum and I can't go back to Vinmore without him."
"Yer means the cowardly bastard who ran off an' left us? I wouldn't min’ gettin' me 'ands on 'im either."
"Well that can easily be arranged,” said Tarraquin, “but not here. It seems that a very large, grey war horse wanted him too and wouldn't let him go until we arrived and took charge of him. By the time we make it back to our camp and see to Jarrul’s wounds it’ll be late and Pellum might have had time to come to regret his part in this affair by then."
"You won't hurt him will you? He has something to do which requires him to be in one piece."
“That depends," replied Tarraquin but she wouldn’t say on what.
*
Maladran screamed with frustration and rage as one by one the hearts inside the stone caskets ceased beating whilst he stood and watched, powerless to help them. The power drain of giving life to his creations and then having that life brutally ripped away as each creature was slaughtered left him weak and helpless. He could feel their deaths like repeated stab wounds and knew that beneath the tower, in the lowest cavern, the mutilated bodies hung limp in their chains, released from his control.
As much as their deaths weakened him he was not finished yet. He might not have the strength left to call on the darkest of all magic which was still to be summonsed, but he’d enough power within himself to cast one last spell before exhaustion claimed him.
Calming his mind, he took his place in the carved chair behind his work table, closed his eyes and waited until the last of the death magic left him. He shuddered in pain each time one of his creatures was smashed to the ground but when it was done he was free to concentrate on his next move. There was no way he was going to allow his enchantment of the Princess Daun to fail, so somehow Pellum had to be denied access to the palace at Alewinder until he was rested and strong enough to destroy the interfering prince. Carefully he pulled the black silk cover from his scrying globe and concentrated his thoughts on the palace until a vision of its high towers and golden spires became clear.
As he’d anticipated nothing moved in the palace but neither were there any signs of the decay and corruption he’d hoped for. He cut short any feelings of disappointment and drew his vision back so that he could study Alewinder from a distance. There had to be a reason why life there was being preserved and if he could find it then he could reverse the spell and accelerate the decay. With careful manipulation the city and its people could be dust by the passing of the next summer. It wouldn’t please Sarrat of course but he cared nothing for the king’s feelings.
He watched as the high towers became smaller, were then surrounded by the city and finally by the city walls. As he drew back further he was surprised to find that these too were hidden behind a thick hedge of white and cream honeyvine, twice the height of a man and twenty paces deep. Travellers and curio seekers stood at its perimeter and he watched in fascination as the most daring amongst them used their swords to test the edges of the entwined vine for its strength.
Some even dared to clamber into the spaces between the vine’s limbs and were gently ejected. Maladran smiled having found the weakness he was looking for. There was no need to destroy Alewinder. All he had to do was turn the magic of the two interfering old magicians to his own purposes and the city would remain forever an impregnable monument to his power which no sword could ever destroy.
*
"And there you have it," said Tarraquin, clasping her hands across her knees as she finished her story. "Perguine reported back that Jarrul and the few left alive had been taken for questioning in the sorcerer's tower and you know the rest. We were betrayed and I was so blinded by the prospect of power and revenge that I never saw the trap until it had closed around me. All those loyal men died just because I wouldn't listen to the good advice you tried to give me."
"Don't go blamin' yerself yer 'ighness, Jarrul an' I should 'ave argued some more instead of jus' givin' in. Anyway, it aint all bad, we got Jarrul back an' I bet we gave that there old sorcerer an 'orrible 'eadache."
Tarraquin smiled, grateful for the support. "Yes, thanks to Jonderill."
She looked at him in the flickering light of the camp fire and gave him a smile which was ten steps beyond friendly. Jonderill tried hard not to squirm and eased himself away from his position of honour at her side but she edged closer towards him until he was trapped at the end of the log they shared. He looked pleadingly at Perguine who stood grinning mischievously, enjoying his discomfort.
"What were you doing in Tarmin
?" asked Jonderill, trying to steer the conversation onto safer ground.
"Trying to get back something which was mine."
Jonderill looked blank.
"The Lady Tarraquin aint the Lady Tarraquin at all, she's really the Queen of Leersland, only Sarrat killed 'er father an' stole the throne from 'er."
"The same as your magician friend stole the memory of who I was until the night I tried to kill him and broke the enchantment. It’s a pity I failed."
Perguine took a long pull from the wine skin which was being passed around the makeshift camp and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "I don't think 'is magician friend's goin' ter be too friendly after what Jonderill did last night."
Jonderill shook his head in denial. "You know what my feelings are for Maladran and they haven’t changed but that still doesn’t explain why you and a handful of woodsmen were trying to capture Sarrat’s fortress by going through the front door instead of trying to sneak in the back and take it by surprise."
Tarraquin looked exasperated. "Because we were told that Sarrat and his army wasn't there and the only way into that fortress is straight through the front door."
"No it's not, there's another way. It’s the way Maladran used to use when he didn’t want anyone to know he had returned to the fortress." Everyone looked at Jonderill in astonishment.
"How do you know?" asked the dark-haired man who had sat next to Tarraquin all evening without saying a word.
"Maladran told me about it a long time ago."
“I bet he did.”
“Look, I’ll draw you a plan of how to get in if you want me to.”
Tarraquin glared at the man next to her and then turned back to Jonderill and threw her arms around him giving him a passionate kiss whilst the others who were gathered around the fire cheered.
"See I tolds yer 'e would be useful. It's a good job I tracked 'im down like I did else we wouldn't know about this ‘ere secret entrance. Nor would we 'ave gotten inside that there sorcerer's tower, what wiv the climbin' an' all those doors protected by magic. Yer should 'ave seen 'im, ‘e just 'eld 'is sword to the doors an' they opened better than if I'd picked 'em meself."
"It was nothing," said Jonderill, pulling free of Tarraquin's embrace and feeling more embarrassed by the moment; his face flushed with more than just the heat of the nearby fire or the wine he had drunk.
“It could be another trap.” warned the dark haired man glaring at Jonderill. “If he’s lived with the magician he could be in Sarrat’s pocket.”
“Jonderill has been my friend for a long time and I know he has no love for Sarrat.” Tarraquin looked between the two men and gave a sigh of exasperation. “Jonderill, this is Captain Malingar who commands the mercenary band which came to your rescue in the forest. He’s promised to help me take back the throne.
“The same mercenaries who fought for Sarrat against Sandstrone’s nomads?” questioned Jonderill.
Malingar shrugged, “That contract’s finished and in any case he was a poor employer. My men and I like to fight for a good cause when we can, particularly where the rewards are special.” He gave Tarraquin a possessive smile.
Jarrul looked up at them both from where he rested by the fire, his hands and feet swathed in bandages and decided it was time to change the subject before they came to blows. "Rescuing me may have been nothing to you but it was everything to me. Without you I would still be down there screaming out the last days of my life in Maladran's hands. What you did was beyond bravery, you could have left me there to die like that other scum wanted to."
"Talking about scum, where is our other guest?"
"I thought 'e might put yer off yer dinner so 'es been 'anging around like." A chorus of harsh laughter greeted Perguine's pointed comments.
"I hope you haven't hurt him?" asked Jonderill anxiously.
"Nar. 'Es been a bit tied up, that's all."
Perguine beckoned to two of his comrades who disappeared into the trees and returned with Pellum between them looking weary, dishevelled and rubbing chafed wrists which had obviously just been unbound. When his blindfold was removed he blinked in the sudden bright light trying to see across the circle but when he failed to discern who sat beyond the flames he turned on Perguine and the men who held him.
"How dare you bind me like a common thief! I am a prince of Essenland and I expect to be treated as I deserve."
"Yer mean like a coward?" mused Perguine, playing with the tip of his slender dagger.
Pellum recognised his accuser but gave him a disdainful sneer as he straightened his tunic and ran his fingers through his ruffled hair. "I am second heir to the throne of Essenland and have a duty to my people to protect myself. As servant to my people that duty must come first before anything else."
"Even before thanking the person who rescued you?"
Pellum peered across the fire circle, his expression of disdain changing to one of surprise and then he gave one of his most charming smiles and bowed deeply. "My Lady Tarraquin, what a most wonderful and unexpected surprise this is and may I say what a great pleasure it is to find such beauty and grace amongst such a rabble."
Tarraquin was unimpressed. "This rabble saved your miserable life."
"Perhaps but I was in no immediate danger. King Sarrat's royal magician would have released me in time once a ransom had been paid."
Perguine spat in disgust. "The murderer's torturer you mean. Do we 'ave ter listen to any more of 'is whining lies, Me Lady? 'E left Jarrul an' Jonderill to face them creatures alone an' we all saws it. 'E's guilty as 'ellden an' I reckons it's up to those 'e left there to die ter do away wiv 'im."
"Now hold on a moment!" said Pellum in alarm. "My Lady Tarraquin, you can't possibly agree to this, not after what we have meant to each other?"
All eyes turned to Tarraquin.
"If I remember rightly, Prince Pellum, the last time we met you tried to rape me."
"It was just my overwhelming love for you," he said disarmingly.
"And this is my overwhelming decision. Jarrul, this man left you to die, what would you have done to him?"
For a moment Jarrul was silent, studying the prince who stood opposite him. "I’ve seen enough suffering and death to last me a lifetime and have come too close to it myself to inflict it on another, even someone as worthless as he is." He turned to Jonderill, wincing as pain coursed down both arms. "I owe you my life twice over, a debt I cannot begin to repay for a long time to come but as a start, as something on account, I give you Prince Pellum's life, for what that's worth."
"This is ridiculous," objected Pellum indignantly. "You're not going to let him talk to me like that are you? I'm a prince; you can't just give me away as if I was nothing, particularly to one who's no better than a slave."
"Does yer want me ter silence 'im now Jonderill?" questioned Perguine, moving forward with his knife held ready. "I can if yer want an' wivout killin' 'im too."
Jonderill shook his head, resisting the temptation. "No. His Highness is to be unharmed as long as he gives his word to return with me to Vinmore in order to break the enchantment and marry the Princess Daun as he has promised."
Pellum gave him a supercilious smile and Tarraquin a look of regret. "It would appear I have no choice in the matter, My Lady, although my preferences may lie elsewhere. When duty calls, those of noble blood must answer."
"Surely yer not goin' ter let 'im get away wiv just that are yer, Me Lady?"
"From what I remember of the Princess Daun he'll get just what he deserves." Everyone laughed except Jonderill. "Now we have that settled, Jonderill, will you come with me to Tarmin and help me take back a throne which is rightfully mine?"
“We don’t need him,” put in Malingar.
"I wish I could but I have other obligations," said Jonderill ignoring Maligner’s comments and trying to sound regretful but at the same time feeling relieved that he had a reason not to get embroiled in her schemes.
Tarraquin looked annoyed at the blank refus
al. "If you come with me now I will make you the new High Lord when I am crowned queen."
"I regret I can't, I have to do what I can for the Princess."
Tarraquin jumped to her feet in anger. "So I'm not good enough for you am I? Well let me tell you, Jonderill, don’t you ever dare to set foot in Leersland again in case I remember you’re nothing more than a runaway kingsward and deal with you accordingly!" She looked around the gathering, glaring at anyone who dared to smile, her hands planted firmly on her hips. "And what do you think you're all staring at? Get the horses, we’re leaving, now! Malingar, get your men together, we have plans to make.
The campsite exploded into instant activity.
"You made a mistake there, boy," said Pellum, coming to stand behind Jonderill as he used a bit of charcoal from the fire to hastily sketch the promised map on the back of an old shirt. "She's not the kind of woman to gainsay."
He sauntered off to where the horses were being saddled, his eyes following Tarraquin wherever she went until, at last, he saw her collect her cloak and walk into the trees alone. Making sure that no one was watching him he followed her and waited until she had stopped in a patch of moonlight before he moved up behind her and enfolded her in his arms. Tarraquin spun around, startled by the sudden presence and Pellum pressed her body closely to his.
"Jonderill's a fool. He doesn't know what a real woman is, but I do. When I've done my duty in Vinmore I will be back and then you and I can really get to know each other." He kissed her passionately, covering her mouth with his and only released her when he felt the steel of her knife break the skin below his ribs. "Now is that any way to treat the man who would be your lover?"
"Get away from me before I forget who and what you are and give you what you deserve."
He shrugged slightly but still gave her a charming smile as he backed away from the knife she held. "You'll change your mind, women always do."
