Temptations of Pleasure Island

by Gilbert L. Morris

  “First, you have to agree to take the Soma.”

  “Take it!” the prince cried.

  “Yep. But it won’t hurt you.” He reached into his inner pocket and took out a bottle. “Before you go to Lady Maeve to tell her you’ll take Soma after all, drink two swallows of this. It will taste pretty bad, but get it down—both of you.”

  “But what is it?” Derek asked.

  “It’s something Mr. Fletcher came up with. He says it’ll coat the inside of your stomachs so that the Soma won’t take effect for a while.”

  “But what about when it does?”

  “No problem. Get away by yourself as soon as you can,” Reb told him, “and have yourself a nice throw up.”

  “Oh, I see! That way our bodies get rid of the drug before it has time to take effect. But what about when she wants us to take more later?”

  “You’ll just have to fool her. Take the drug from her and pretend to pour it into a glass of juice or something. But instead, just drop it on your sleeve. That’s the best we could come up with. The main thing is, she’s going to want to see you take it at least once.”

  “And what’s the plan for action after that?”

  “You’ll have to keep Lady Maeve and the king both convinced that you’re on the drug. That means acting real excited. Gambling a lot. Hollering a lot.”

  Cosima bowed her head. “Is that the way I’ve been behaving?” she murmured.

  “I’m afraid it is, princess. And I want you to keep on doing the same thing. You’ve been on the drug, so they won’t be watching you. You can just pretend to take it. Nobody will know.”

  “All right. I’ll do it. Anything to get out of this nightmare,” the princess said.

  “And I will,” the queen agreed.

  “I’ve got to get away from here now,” Reb said. “You all have it straight?”

  “Yes. And I think the plan will work,” Derek said. He reached out and took Reb’s hand. “Thanks for your loyalty, Reb.”

  “Well, shoot.” Reb grinned. “What are friends for?”

  The whole council was present with Lady Maeve when Derek and his mother came before them. Derek thought he saw a look of triumph in the sorceress’s eyes.

  But she stared coldly at them. “And you are ready to show better judgment, Your Majesty? And you, Prince Derek?”

  The queen only nodded. It was Derek who spoke. “It appears I have been wrong, and I am ready to make amends.”

  “And you are ready to take the medication?”

  “Yes. Both of us have agreed that it’s the only thing to do.”

  “Very well.” There was triumph in Lady Maeve’s voice as well as in her eyes. Then she glanced at the king, who was blankly looking at his wife and son. “You see, Your Majesty, I told you that they would come to their senses. Attendant, bring two cups of wine.”

  The servant quickly brought two goblets on a tray and offered them to Derek and the queen.

  Lady Maeve approached, bearing the vial of Soma. “Hold up your cups,” she ordered. When they both obeyed, she put four drops in each goblet.

  “Is that not too much?” the king protested.

  “They are in serious condition. They will require more, Your Majesty. Now, drink.”

  Without hesitation both Derek and his mother drank the liquid. They put the cups on the tray, and this time Derek knew he saw triumph flashing in Lady Maeve’s eyes.

  The king arose then and came to them. He put his arms around the queen, and she embraced him. “I’m relieved, my dear,” he said. Then he turned to Derek. “My son, I know this is hard. But you will see that it’s for the best.”

  “Yes, Father,” Derek said. “I am sure what we are doing is for the best.”

  “Now,” Lady Maeve said, “you both will, perhaps, sit in on the council.”

  “As you wish, Lady Maeve.”

  They sat for some ten minutes as the council business went on. Then the queen said, “I really don’t feel well.”

  “Mother, let me help you to your room.”

  “Come back as soon as you have done so, prince. I want you present,” Maeve commanded.

  “Certainly, Lady Maeve.”

  * * *

  The prince helped his mother out of the council chamber, and Lady Maeve turned to the king. “Well, sire, as you see, it has all come to pass as I said.”

  “Yes. But I do wonder about the queen …”

  “Soma is a powerful medication, and I gave her an extra dose. She will be all right.”

  Prince Derek returned five minutes later. His face was rather pale, but he took his seat without a word.

  “And how is your mother, son?” the king asked anxiously.

  Derek looked at his father. “She’s fine now, sire,” he said firmly.

  “And you, prince. Do you not already feel somewhat affected by the drug?” the sorceress asked.

  “I think things are looking better, and I must offer you my apologies, Lady Maeve.”

  Maeve’s eyes glowed, and she leaned back in her chair. “Proceed with the business,” she said.

  13

  Another Dungeon

  The darkness of Lady Maeve’s room was broken only by a beam of pale moonlight. It slanted down through a high window and laid a silvery square upon the wall just beyond the foot of her bed. Maeve was usually a sound sleeper, but tonight she had tossed and turned for some time.

  Then, seemingly from somewhere far off, there came a voice that she recognized—and feared. She opened her eyes to narrow slits and saw a shape beginning to form on the silvery square just opposite her. At first there were merely shadows and lights that intersected each another. But soon it was as if she were seeing a face that was hidden behind a glass and underwater.

  The familiar voice came again, and she heard her name being called—“Lady Maeve—awake!”

  The Dark Lord! Maeve closed her eyes tightly, hoping that this would turn out to be a dream. She knew that there were times when the Dark Lord summoned his servants out of sound sleep into horrible assignments.

  “Wake up!”

  Swallowing hard, Lady Maeve forced herself to open her eyes again. The shadows flowed together until a set of piercing eyes appeared and then a cruel mouth, a pointed jaw. And finally the entire face of the Dark Lord was before her. She could not take her eyes away from it. She barely managed to say hoarsely, “Yes, my lord, I am here.”

  “You have done well—thus far.”

  Relief washed through Lady Maeve. She felt release from the coldness that had clamped around her heart like a steel fist. “Thank you, my lord,” she said with more strength.

  “The kingdom is now ours for the taking. Only one task remains.”

  “I think I can guess that, sire,” Lady Maeve said. “You want the king put to death.”

  “No, I do not. Leave him in place. He’s a weak fool and will do well enough for a figurehead. And now that his family is under control, you can handle them. You will be the real ruler of Pleasure Island—under my authority.”

  “As you wish, my lord.” Exultation rushed through her. She knew she had just been given great power and wealth. “What is the task you mentioned, my lord?”

  “The Seven Sleepers.” A hint of rage tinged the voice that came to her. Fury was there that went beyond the bounds of human anger. “This time the Seven Sleepers must die!”

  This did not trouble Lady Maeve. “Certainly, if that is your command, my lord.”

  “You must make it happen soon. They have escaped my grasp too many times already.”

  “Let your mind be at rest, my lord. Their days are over,” she said proudly. “You may depend on it.”

  “I trust I may. For if you fail, Maeve, I am certain you would not enjoy the fate that I deal out to those who do not succeed.”

  “Never fear, my lord.”

  “I do not fear. It is you who should feel fear.”

  Some power reached out from the image of the Dark Lord then and grasped her in fier
y waves. She cried aloud.

  “Perhaps you will understand,” the Dark Lord said, “that is a mere taste of what awaits you if the Sleepers escape this time.”

  Maeve could scarcely speak. “I—I will see to it myself. At once.”

  The image seemed to swim then. Its edges grew fuzzy and unclear. The eyes turned into black pools, and there was a whispering sound. When silence came, Maeve sat up in bed and stared at the wall. Nothing was there now, but she knew for a certainty that the message she had received was from the Dark Lord himself.

  She threw on her robe and ran to the door. The guard outside turned to her, saying, “Yes, Lady Maeve?”

  “Take twenty men. Arrest the Seven Sleepers. Throw them in the dungeon at once. If they escape, you will die.”

  The guard let out a gasp, and fear ran across his face. “Yes, Lady Maeve!” He whirled at once and began shouting orders.

  The sorceress stepped back into her room. Her heart was beating fast. She saw that her hand was trembling also, and she marveled, whispering, “I used to think nothing in the world could cause that.”

  A faint sound of shouting came to Sarah. Then she awoke as the door to her room burst open with a crash.

  “What—what is it?” she cried.

  “Out of bed! You’re under arrest by royal command!”

  A guard grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her from the bed with merciless strength. “You’d better put on the warmest clothes you have.” He grinned broadly. “The dungeons are pretty cold. You won’t find the luxuries down there that you have in the palace.”

  “You must be wrong!” Sarah protested. “There’s some mistake!”

  “One more chance. Get dressed and quiet!”

  Quickly Sarah put on the warmest clothes she had, including wool socks and a pair of half boots. They were the clothes that she had worn when she had arrived on Pleasure Island.

  Then the guard shoved her down the hall, muttering, “Get going! Get going!”

  Sarah saw that the rest of the Sleepers too were being herded out of their rooms.

  In fact, Reb was scuffling with one of the guards. “I can walk! I can walk! I don’t need your help!” He gave the guard a shove that sent the man reeling backward.

  Instantly the guard behind Reb struck him over the head with the handle of his pike. Reb fell to the floor but was cruelly jerked to his feet at once. Two guards held him then, while the one he had struck slapped him several times across the face.

  “We’ll take the starch out of you!” the man said. “You may have been a star once, boy, but you’re nothing but a prisoner now!”

  There was no time for more talk. The seven were dragged outside and down the street to a square gray building three stories high. There were no windows in it, and the very blankness of it gave Sarah a chill.

  Josh muttered to her, “I knew they’d get us sooner or later, but I thought we’d have some warning at least.”

  “Shut up, you!” a guard said and struck Josh across the back with his pike. The blow nearly knocked him down, and Sarah cried aloud.

  Once inside the gray building, they were greeted by a very broad man with a bald head and a pair of small, alert black eyes. “Take them down to the lower level!” he ordered.

  “There could be some water in there,” one of the guards warned.

  “Good. It’ll give them something to think about.”

  Guards marched the seven down two flights below ground level. Once there, their captors opened a massive iron door with a bar across it and shoved the Sleepers inside.

  “Enjoy yourself. This is Pleasure Island, you know.” The warden grinned, and the door clanged shut. “If any of these escape,” he warned the guards, “it will be your heads for it. That’s the word from Lady Maeve.”

  Grimly one of the four guards said, “They won’t get out alive.”

  The dungeon, Sarah saw at once, was nothing more than a large bare room. It was illuminated only by one feeble lantern that barely broke through the darkness. There was no furniture. The beds were merely piles of smelly straw that had been thrown on the dirt floor.

  Josh looked about him and took a deep breath. “Well,” he said, “here we are, folks. In another dungeon.”

  Abbey began to cry. “What’s happened? Why are we here?”

  “I think we’re just about to find out who your friend Lady Maeve really is,” Josh said grimly.

  Dave seemed struck speechless, and he wore a dazed expression. He stared around the dungeon. He went over to feel the cold and clammy wall. “I don’t understand,” he kept muttering.

  “You’ll understand a little bit better when that Soma wears off,” Jake said grimly.

  Dave looked around him—guiltily, Sarah thought. Then he sat down with his back against the stone wall. He drew up his feet and rested his head against his knees, saying no more.

  The hours in the dungeon passed on leaden feet. Early in the morning and then twelve hours later, food was brought to them. It was almost inedible, but Josh encouraged everybody to eat, saying, “We don’t know how long this will last, and we’ve got to keep our strength up.”

  Three days in the foul dungeon seemed to have drained the last of the Soma out of Dave’s system. On the third day, he said he’d come to realize what a fool he had been. Then, with broken spirits, both Dave and Abbey apologized to the rest of the Sleepers.

  “I don’t know what it was that made me do it,” Dave said mournfully. “I’ve just been a fool.”

  Abbey said much the same.

  “We’ve all made fools of ourselves at one time or another,” Josh told them. “But we’ve got to stick together now. This looks pretty bad.”

  The rattling of the cell door awoke Josh. He had been tossing restlessly anyway.

  Then the door opened, and the warden himself entered. “Come along, all of you,” the man said.

  “Where are we going?” Josh asked as he stood to his feet. The rest of the Sleepers were scrambling up also. Dirty straw clung to their clothes. They brushed it out of their hair and waited for the warden’s answer.

  “You’re going to have your trial today. Didn’t you know?”

  “Trial! What trial?” Josh cried. “Trial for what?”

  “You’re on trial for treason. Subversive activities. Trying to undermine the authority of the king. You can take your choice. Any one will do. But one thing’s sure.”

  “What’s that?” Reb said defiantly.

  “You’ll be found guilty. And that’s not the only thing that’s sure.” The jailer laughed, and his stomach trembled like jelly. “I can pretty well guess what the penalty will be. You’ll be thrown to the beasts in the arena.”

  The guards laughed cruelly at that and herded the Sleepers out of the dungeon. They were marched up and out of the prison, and the bright sunlight so blinded Josh that for a time he almost had to be led.

  By the time they reached the palace, however, he found that his eyes had adjusted. “Aren’t we going to be given a chance to clean up a little before the trial?” he asked.

  “It won’t matter much. You’ll be back in the dungeon before you know it.” The guard chuckled and winked at his companion. “He’ll be dancing at the end of a rope soon, won’t he now, Cletus?”

  The Sleepers were prodded along, stumbling and guarded on all sides by armed men with swords drawn.

  Josh thought, No chance of a rescue here or of breaking away. No chance at all.

  The guards hurried them into a large room where the king sat on a throne. Standing slightly to his right was Lady Maeve. She was dressed in black, as always, and wore a silver tiara about her head. Her black eyes gleamed with triumph as she said, “Have the prisoners face the king.”

  The Sleepers were lined up before the throne, and as Josh faced King Leo, he thought that the king looked confused.

  “We will hear the charges read against the prisoners,” Lady Maeve announced loudly.

  An old man with a white beard and a voice that t
rembled read a long list of charges. None of them made any sense whatsoever to Josh, but at the end Lady Maeve turned to the council. She said, “These then are the charges. You have heard them. What is your verdict?”

  “Wait a minute!” Josh said angrily. “We haven’t had a chance to defend ourselves.”

  “Very well,” Lady Maeve said. “Defend yourself.”

  But Josh looked into the cold eyes of the woman in black and knew that their case was hopeless. No matter what he said, he realized, there would be no mercy from the sorceress. So instead of trying to mount a defense, he said in a loud voice, “You may be victorious this day, Maeve, but Goél will defeat both you and the Dark Lord soon.”

  “We’ve heard enough of this nonsense! What is your verdict, council?”

  An older member of the council stood. “We find all seven of these prisoners to be enemies of the state.” He spoke in a formal voice as if he had memorized his speech.

  “And what is the punishment?”

  “We decree that they be executed by hanging.”

  “So be it.”

  “Just one minute, Lady Maeve.”

  A voice rang out in the courtroom, and Lady Maeve looked confused. “Who spoke?” she cried angrily.

  “I, Prince Derek.”

  Every eye turned to the door, where indeed the prince stood, confidently eyeing Lady Maeve. Then he walked toward the woman in black. When he was directly opposite her, Derek said, “You are a witch, Lady Maeve—a sorceress and a murderess!” He turned to the king then. “Your Majesty, I appeal to you not as a son to a father but as a subject to a ruler. Is it justice to condemn men and women without a fair trial?”

  “They have had their trial!” Lady Maeve shouted. “Arrest him!”

  “Yes. Arrest me and have me hanged, too. Will that please you, Father?”

  King Leo got up. He seemed to be a broken man. He also appeared to Josh to be heavily drugged. He tried to speak, but his voice was thick. It seemed it was all he could do to stay on his feet.

  “Your Majesty,” Lady Maeve said quickly, “do not trouble yourself. Your son is ill. We will care for him now.”

  “Son …” the king began in a trembling voice.