Thomas dropped the crystal and collapsed onto his side.
"Try to remember.” With a swirl of his black cape the man faced Regan. He waved his hand. The iron bands fell to the floor, and took her with them. Sprawled on the floor, Regan stared up at him.
"I do hate such barbaric treatment, but Thomas must have his fun,” he said.
Regan pushed herself up to a sitting position, then slowly twisted her wrists inside the bands. “How about taking these off?"
He pointed at the bands. They fell and landed in her lap.
"Yes, we don't want you marred."
Regan looked down at her wrists and then rubbed them. She felt his fingers under her chin and her eyes were forced up, over black boots and trousers. Her gaze rose to his face, but she refused to meet his eyes, and instead focused on the ornate clasp holding the cape closed at his throat. It was an eagle with piercing, green-jeweled eyes. She heard him chuckle dryly.
"You are Regan.” It wasn't a question, but a statement. “You have spirit, which is good, but do not anger me. I am Dirkk, Baron of Cornith."
"I figured as much,” Regan said.
"So, Kelsey's sister Regan, what am I to do about you?"
Thomas limped to stand at Dirkk's side. “Her minimal power is no threat to us. I've probed her,” he said.
"Minimal power?” Dirkk fixed his green stare on Thomas.
Thomas quailed beneath that look. “Yes, master."
Dirkk laughed. “What a fool you are. I can feel her power from here. She is shielded. They have let you see only what they choose to reveal. Isn't that right, my love?"
Regan pressed her lips together. Dirkk reached out and gripped Thomas's arm. “She's not under a compulsion spell?"
"There hasn't been time,” Thomas whined.
"Time for your tricks, but no time for a compulsion spell."
"I'm sorry. I'll do it now."
"Never mind, I will do it."
Dirkk reached for her and Regan tried to scramble backwards, but her numb legs refused to obey. He placed his hands on each side of her head and closed his eyes. The runes on the stone floor glowed and pain stabbed through her head. She fought to keep the wall in place, but it crumbled, and Dirkk glided in.
He opened his eyes, smiled, and took a step back from her. “This is going to be quite fun. Shall we begin?"
For the next hour he fired question after question at her, and against her will her lips formed the answers he sought.
The mage leaned close as she talked of Zara and her mind-linking with all creatures. “Can you link with my pets?"
"I don't know,” Regan said.
"But Angus thinks it is likely?"
"Yes,” Regan said through stiff lips, angry tears of frustration running down her cheeks. “Why do you ask me these questions? You could easily find the answers in my mind."
Dirkk leaned forward and licked a tear from her cheek. “But it's more fun this way.” Regan's skin crawled at his touch. “Have plans been made to test your powers?"
Regan closed her eyes and clamped her lips together.
"Regan,” Dirkk said softly. “You have to answer. The pain gives you no choice.” He waved his hand in front of her face, and inside her head white-hot agony speared each cell.
God! Peter, help me, she silently cried. She opened her mouth and screamed. Through a red haze she saw Dirkk wave his hand again, and the pain subsided as quickly as it came.
Dirkk watched her, a feral cat playing with a mouse. A small smile curved his mouth. “I admire your fortitude, and it would be interesting to see how long you could last, but alas, I don't have the time,” he said, turning his back on her. “Thomas, you need practice. Strengthen the spell."
"It may damage her mind."
Dirkk shrugged. “So be it."
Regan's stomach rolled. “No,” she blurted.
"No what?"
"No plans have been made to test my ability."
"And why is that?” Dirkk asked.
"Because, besides Angus, no one knows."
Dirkk leaned close and stared into her face. “Why are you keeping it a secret? Do you and the dwarf have your own plans?"
Regan glared at him. “Of course not. I just wasn't ready to tell Peter."
Dirkk laughed. “You have feelings for that upstart mage. Does he feel the same?"
"No,” Regan whispered. “He cares nothing for me."
Dirkk turned, his cape swirling around his feet. “I know you tell the truth; you have no choice. What a pity. I could have used you against him.” He crossed to stare down into the glowing coals of the brazier. “Never mind that he doesn't know, for he will, and quite soon."
"What do you mean?"
Dirkk faced her. “This is what you will do..."
"I will do nothing to help you,” Regan cut in.
Dirkk and Thomas exchanged looks and smiled. “You will, for you have no choice,” he repeated.
"I will tell them of this."
Dirkk, Baron of Cornith, crossed to Regan and traced her cheekbone with his fingernail and then smiled. “You can't tell what you don't remember."
Chapter 16
REGAN FELT A breeze stir the hair on the nape of her neck and turned. Peter stood in the tent entrance. His body was a dark elongated shadow framed against the brightness of the afternoon sun.
"How did it go?” he said.
"Fine. Thomas tried a few tricks, but I believe he thinks I've little or no power."
"Good. Then that is what Dirkk will think. Did Thomas say he needed to work with you again?"
Regan grinned. “He didn't ask for a repeat performance."
"A rider arrived from the castle while you were with Thomas. Tessa will see you today."
"Queen Tessa?"
"It is the only Tessa I know,” Peter said. “Be ready to leave in ten minutes."
Her mouth dropped open. “Ten minutes? But I don't have anything to wear."
Peter smiled with a shake of his head. “Why do women always say that?"
Regan bristled. “I can't speak for all women,” she emphasized the word, “but for me it's the truth."
"Kelsey will see to your needs once we are at the castle.” He stepped back and dropped the tent flap.
Ten minutes isn't even enough time to rebraid my hair. Regan flopped onto her cot. So, I'm going to a castle for to meet a queen, just like “Puss In Boots.” What does one do when one meets a queen? Do I bow? No. Wait. In “The Three Musketeers,” all the ladies curtsied.
She scrambled to her feet and faced the stump holding the silver basin. Grabbing both sides of an imaginary skirt, she placed her right foot behind her left ankle and bent her knees. “So happy to meet you, Your Majesty,” she said, then frowned. “So do I look her in the eye, or lower my head?"
"Shaking her hand will do just fine.” Peter's voice said from behind her. “After all, she has known Kelsey these past seven years."
Regan whirled and faced him, blood rushing into her cheeks. “Have you ever heard of knocking?"
"It is a little hard to knock on a tent's flap,” he said.
"What do you want?” she snapped.
"I forgot to remind you to wear the moonstone ear drops."
She glanced down at her pants and shirt. “They really don't go with my outfit."
Peter's gaze flicked over her. “Just wear them, please.” He stepped backwards into the sunlight and dropped the flap again.
Regan found the velvet bag and poured the earrings into her palm. Staring down at the milk-white stones she wondered why they were so important to Peter. As she raked everything back into the middle of the blanket, her notebook of jingles popped into view. She picked it up and flipped through the first pages, laughing at her first smudged sketches and the silly verses printed beside them. “God, was I really that bad? I'm surprised I ever got hired at all.” She continued to skim her earlier work and halfway through the book her laughter changed to a warm feeling of pride and accomplishment. “I am
good!” she said, then closed the notebook and tossed it back into the middle of the pile.
When the notebook landed, it opened and a sudden breeze fanned the pages. They stopped at a drawing of a basset hound. She looked closer at the advertisement. It was one of her first, for a doggie deodorant called Canine Sublime. She picked up the notebook and carried it to the light pouring through the open tent flap. The drawing was dated five years ago, but it looked like Maggie. She had even taken the time to color it in with pencils, something she rarely did. A shiver ran the length of her backbone and she slammed the notebook shut. Okay, so it's a basset hound. No biggie; there are lots of basset hounds out there ... but basset hounds with a sprinkling of black freckles on a white nose and one white paw? She stared down at the notebook in her hand, then shrugged and stuck it in the pants pocket.
Regan walked back to the cot, retied the bundle, and pushed it back under the cot with her foot.
"Rae, are you coming?” Kelsey asked from behind her.
Regan turned. Her sister stood just inside the tent's entrance. Regan sat down on the edge of the cot. “Do you think I'd pass up a chance to meet a queen? Just let me get these dang earrings in.” She tossed her braid over her shoulder, then pulled the back off one of the earrings.
"Here, let me help,” Kelsey said, crossing to her. She took the earring and held it up to the sun's rays. “I'd forgotten how beautiful they are.” She tilted Regan's head and inserted the first earring.
"How could you forget? You're always wearing the pendant.” She turned her head so Kelsey could get to the other ear.
Kelsey inserted the other earring, then sat back on her heels. “Yes, but I haven't taken the time to really look at it in years."
Over Kelsey's shoulder, Regan saw Rourk poke his head inside the tent. “Are you ladies ready? It is not nice to keep the queen waiting."
Regan's eyebrows shot upwards. “Is she waiting for us right now?"
Kelsey scowled over her shoulder at Rourk. “No. Our meeting isn't until this afternoon."
Rourk grinned. “Oops, sorry. I didn't realize Regan would be nervous."
Regan stuck her nose in the air and waved a hand regally in his direction. “Me, nervous? No way. Why, I meet royalty all the time. Just last week I dined with a duchess."
Rourk's grin widened. “A duchess? I'm impressed.” Then he stage-whispered to Kelsey. “What's a duchess?"
Regan and Kelsey laughed. “Well, in this case, Duchess is my neighbor's cat,” Regan said in between laughs.
"Can I be let in on the source of amusement?” Peter asked from behind Rourk.
The sisters just giggled louder.
"Angus has the horses saddled if you are ready,” Peter said.
Rourk stepped aside and swept them a grand bow. “After you, ladies."
Still smothering laughter, Kelsey and Regan exited the tent.
REGAN SWAYED IN the saddle, keeping time with Gilda's rolling gait. Peter glanced back at her and she waved lazily in his direction.
She turned in her saddle. Kelsey and Rourk rode abreast, their legs almost touching. Over Rourk's shoulder, a pointed white nose with black freckles scouted the wind. Kelsey glanced up, met her sister's eyes, smiled and waved.
"Maggie told me she wanted to come, so I told Angus,” Gilda mind-sent to Regan.
"I didn't know horses could talk to dogs.” Regan was surprised.
"It is sometimes difficult, but possible if you really listen.” Gilda said smugly.
Regan leaned forward and scratched between Gilda's ears. “How far is it to Raya?"
The mare shook her mane. “I don't know. I've never been there. Shall I ask Skylar?"
"No. I don't really care. This is the most peace I've felt since coming through the rift."
Camp was a mile behind them and they were climbing. The planted fields gave way to a trellis of vines. Regan turned to Angus who rode beside her. “Are those grapes?"
"Wine grapes,” the dwarf nodded. “The Rayan monks make a good vintage, although I prefer mead myself."
Regan grinned. “I can picture you sitting before a roaring fire, a pipe in one hand and a mug of mead in the other."
Angus scowled. “It has been a long time. Too long."
"Tell me about Raya.” she said.
"Raya is the only civilized city in Daradawn,” he told her. “It was founded some 200 years ago by Ivor De'Amberville and his followers. Ivor was Queen Tessa's grandfather's grandfather."
"There were no people here?"
Angus snorted. “Oh, there were people, but they were a backward lot. Where Raya is, there was a city, if you could call it such. My Da’ told me of his father visiting it when he was ten or twelve summers old. There were no paved streets, just tramped aisles of mud with wide ditches on each side. The ditches were flowing sewers, cache pots for everyone's garbage. My Da’ said chamber pots were dumped from windows and tossed from open doors with no care as to if their contents reached the ditches or not.
"In the spring, when the rains fell, the ditches overflowed into the streets and became the feeding and breeding ground for rats. In the summer the flies were so thick you had to cover your face to breathe."
"Didn't they have a king?"
He frowned again. “Yes, but he cared only for his own pleasures. There wasn't a comely maid safe in the whole of Daradawn and, if the rumors are true, lad either."
"So Ivor De'Amberville was a conqueror?"
He shrugged. “It depends on whom you ask. When he and his men entered the city, they met with no resistance, just vacant stares. He marched into the castle, rousted the king from some serving wench's bed and demanded his surrender.” Angus chuckled. “The only skirmish he had was with the old king's daughter. She met him at the head of the stairs, carrying a broad-sword as tall as she. With her first thrust she lost her balance, fell into his arms and into his heart. Her name was Raya."
"Raya,” Regan repeated softly. “So, what's it like now?"
"It prospered and all of Daradawn with it ... until seven years ago."
"Dirkk?"
Angus nodded.
"Do a lot of people live in Raya?” she asked.
"Seven years ago there were people, but not overly so, except on market days. Today it is overrun with those who've been chased from their homes by Ru'taha and Black Vipers. The bailey around the castle is a city of tents. The extra stalls in the stables house entire families. Every inn is full, even the small spaces below the rafters."
She shook her head. “How do they feed and clothe them all?"
"By special decree of the queen,” he chuckled, “and the fat-bellied merchants hate it. The queen's own bankers keep track of the purchases and needs of each family. Tessa promised to reimburse each merchant with the product's cost.” His grin spread to a full-fledged smile. “But not after the merchants have padded it to assure themselves a tidy profit."
She returned his smile. “I can see that would cause problems."
"Most merchants are fine. They understand that we must pull together until Dirkk's defeat, but with each weekly audience the grumbling grows louder. The townspeople want the country people back on their farms and out of the streets."
Angus halted Zax. “Look.” He pointed. “Just beyond those clouds, you can see the ten towers of the castle."
She followed his pointing finger with her gaze. Through the wispy clouds she saw ten gray turrets rising into the sky. A pennant waved in the air above each.
"See where Peter waits upon the next rise?"
She nodded.
"From there you can see the gates of Raya."
AS THEY NEARED the top of the rise, Regan saw Peter dismount and walk toward a rock outcropping. He climbed to its flat top and stared eastward.
Angus halted Zax next to Skylar, but Regan rode Gilda to the edge of the precipice and looked down into a spreading, green valley. “Is this a different valley?"
"Just an extension of Fertile Isle,” Angus said.
The valley was the shape of a half-moon tipped on its side and surrounded by sheer cliffs. Beyond the cliffs, the sun glistened on a sapphire sea.
In the middle of the valley was Raya. A high wall started at the sea's cliff on one end of the city and curved until it reached the cliff on the other side.
The city was laid out like a large wagon wheel, with connecting streets making up its spokes. In the hub of the wheel was a castle.
Angus rode Zax up beside her. “The outer circle is the marketplace, as well as the inns and taverns. The streets connecting it with the next circle are lined with merchants. In the next circle, the nobility have their town dwellings. In the center is the castle and its grounds.” He pointed to the area below the castle itself. “See the tan area that surrounds the castle?” She nodded. “Those are tents."
"It looks like one solid tent,” she said. “How do they walk between them?"
"There's enough room, as long as you walk single file and not abreast,” Angus said.
Regan looked up at Peter. He stood, eyes closed, his head and arms raised to the sky. As she watched, he bent, scooped a handful of dirt, then stood and tossed it into the air. A wind sprang up, grabbed the dirt, and swirled it around him in an aerial dance.
"What is he doing?” she asked.
"He gives thanks to have returned to Raya in good health,” Angus answered, then frowned. “There are many who haven't."
Kelsey and Rourk rode up beside Skylar and slid from their horses. Kelsey pulled Maggie from Rourk's backpack. In silence they climbed to join Peter, Maggie trailing behind.
"Would you like to join them?” Angus asked.
"Yes, I would."
Regan and Angus dismounted and climbed to where the other three stood. Peter met Regan's eyes as she reached the top. He reached for her hand and Kelsey took her other. They linked hands with Rourk and Angus. Maggie sat between Regan and Kelsey. Her brown gaze rested first on one face and then the other. Regan smiled at the dog, then closed her eyes as Peter had done. She felt the hands she clasped raise hers into the air. All was quiet, except for the whistling wind, but from deep inside she felt their thanks go skyward; in return a feeling of peace came over her. A wondering smile curved her lips. She opened her eyes and saw the same smile on each face. Still in silence, they dropped their hands and descended to the horses.
The Blue Flame [Book 1 of the Daradawn Series] Page 17
