by Janice Ayre
Chapter Twenty
Captive
At the castle door, a servant met them. "He is holding Lady Saniyah in the art studio."
"I will go there. Brock, stay close to me, but not too close. The spell placed around you will render you undetected by Mustafa if you are careful, but it can be penetrated by one such as he. Keep the pendant hidden in the pouch until I signal you, otherwise he will feel its energy and he will discover you too soon."
The rooms of the castle were magnificent. Polished wooden floors gleamed from the lighting placed around the rooms and soft thick carpets bade visitors welcome. Brock gazed about the rooms in wonder, forgetting briefly the terrible reason they were here. A large dark polished table commanded attention in the centre of the dining room. High-backed chairs with rich red cushions were placed about it. What glorious feasts could be had there thought Brock. In an instant he was brought back to his reality by the firm grip of Zebulon's hand on the back of his neck, directing him to go behind a couch in the next room.
As he crept to his hiding place he had just enough time to see a tall man standing waiting on the far side of the room. His resemblance to the image he had seen in his dream at the old mine, sent unpleasant tingling sensations up and down his spine. From his place of concealment he could easily watch Zebulon and see the others in the room.
“At last you come Zebulon,” said Mustafa. “You come alone?” He raised his eyebrows in mock amusement.
Orville stood to one side of Mustafa, a self-satisfied smirk on his face and on the other side Saniyah stood as if bound, yet no rope was visible. She looked too slender and her creamy skin too pale. Her eyes were large, deep and fearful. Her shapely mouth, trembled and seemed to be silently pleading. Even in this state of despair she was very beautiful.
Brock was sure Zebulon saw her, but gave no indication that he was aware of her, his entire focus was on Mustafa. However, Saniyah did not take her eyes off him from the moment he entered the room.
“Did you think I would bring Kareem so you could toy with him?” Zebulon's voice was strong. He would not be intimidated by Mustafa.
“I have had amusement enough with your lady. Now, you know why I'm here. Let us make it easy. You give me the pendant which is rightfully mine, and I let your lady go. Look at her, see how distressed she is. There is no reason she should suffer further.”
“Do not let yourself sink to such depths, the pendant can never be yours, it would destroy you and be lost.”
Mustafa gave a hard bitter laugh.“You would know about these things! Because you could not keep it yourself you think I cannot. It would not destroy me. I would put it to better use than you. And where is it now? I don't perceive you have it with you. That is a mistake.”
“It is not with me.”
“With Kareem then. Should I take the lady and go after Kareem?”
“Let the lady go, and we will discuss this. If you harm her further then there is nothing to protect you from me.”
“You have always thought yourself better than me. I'll take my chances. Can you afford the same chances with the lady you love?”
Mustafa extended his hand towards Saniyah and she grasped at her throat as if an invisible hand was slowly strangling her. Zebulon stood as if made of stone. Brock had gained a position where he could see Saniyah more easily. He saw her distress as she gasped for air, and expected an immediate signal from Zebulon. His heart was pounding so hard it felt as though it would break the bounds of his chest.
Watching the agony of Saniyah was too much for Brock. Time had become distorted for him and where seconds passed he believed it to be minutes. He was sure he must have missed Zebulon's signal, for he would not leave her to suffer so long.
Removing the pendant from the pouch, he stood up and in one fluid movement cast the protection spell which would release Saniyah from that terrible grasp. Brock had no idea how this action would drain all his strength for the magic he was up against was stronger than he had ever encountered. Exhausted he fell to the floor, the pendant slipping from his limp hand.
In that same instant Mustafa, realising the intrusion on his containment spell, blasted Brock with a deadly bolt rendering him unconscious. Saniyah, now free, rushed to Brock's side.
Saniyah gathered up the pendant so that she and Brock would be protected from further attack. She cradled Brock's head on her lap and held the pendant to his chest. She had never seen this young elf before but he had rescued her and she was full of compassion for this sweet young life. He had looked at her as she placed his head on her lap. His eyes were wide and dark, full of pain. She did not know if he really saw her for then his mind took over and rendered him unconscious because what he suffered was too great.
Zebulon, on seeing his fallen apprentice, began to send out bolts of energy at Mustafa so he had no time to follow up any evil destruction on Brock or Saniyah. The room crackled with the sound of energy strikes and a blaze as intense blue light flashed between them.
The angry sneer on Mustafa's face at the challenge to his power from such a lowly being as a young elf was quickly replaced with one of fear as he realised he had underestimated Zebulon's might.
While the battle raged on between the wizards, Saniyah hung her thick hair like a curtain between the fight and the prone youth. She studied his features with growing wonder. His face was white and motionless, giving it a look of marble. Within his features were traces of the child still, but then the firm jaw, the leanness of his face, which she could imagine were once chubby cheeks, the sensitive shape of his mouth, all formed a beautiful face. She stroked his high, intelligent forehead lightly with trembling fingers and in her fear and agitation she weaved them into his thick dark hair. A tear rolled down her cheek as she watched him struggle for every small breath. Waves of pain flowed through Brock's body. If in consciousness he had wished for death, it was in unconsciousness he found sweet relief.
Orville sank against the wall to be out of the way of the blue lightning issuing from Zebulon. He had tasted his force before but as he watched the magnificent wizard he knew that without a doubt it had only been a weak representation of the damage he was capable of inflicting. He knew to be struck would bring certain death. He had no trust in Mustafa either. So intent was he in his desire to destroy Zebulon, that he would not be concerned for Orville's well being. As the fight continued in all fury, he edged his way around to where Saniyah and Brock were. He could see Mustafa was weakening against the might of Zebulon, so he needed to act now. He would collect the pendant and escape with it. He didn't understand its magic but he was sure its value without magic would be immense.
He was quite close to Saniyah now, and so engaged was she in comforting the young elf, she was oblivious to his presence. He was sure he could overpower her. As he saw the prone elf and did not know whether he was alive or dead, a wave of remorse swept over him. Then the young woman raised dark eyes to his and held his gaze. The fire in her eyes seemed to reflect the red tints from her chestnut hair. So taken aback with the contrast of fearful submission he had expected, that he hesitated and took a step backward. One glance at the fight that raged nearby and he realised he must carry forth his aim, for his master would soon lose to the stronger wizard. If he was not to leave this place empty handed, he must break her hold over him and focused his attention once more on the prize for which he had come.
He noticed she held the pendant lightly and quickly he made his move to snatch it. As he touched the pendant a short but powerful shock passed through him and he was thrown off balance, landing hard upon the floor.
Dark blue eyes glared back at him. "Do you think the pendant will let such unworthiness take possession of it? If you have any sense whatsoever, you will make haste to leave here."
Burning pain shot up his arm and his fingers tingled. His arm lay limp at his side. As he raised himself from the floor and backed away he could see that Mustafa was already defeated. Holding his injured arm, he began to sneak around behind Zebulon al
l the while holding his painful arm.
A final blow from Zebulon collapsed Mustafa to the floor where he lay as his enemy advanced on him. Zebulon stood over his crumpled form ready to make the final retribution.
“The pendant is mine,” whimpered Mustafa.
“The pendant can never belong to one person, and can never be possessed by one with such evil in his heart.”
Zebulon began to chant words over and over as Mustafa lay prone upon the floor. Gradually any defiance which may had remained was replaced with a look almost of stupor.
“I cannot take all your magic but I have wiped your memory of the spells you have learned. It will be a long time before you even realise that you had something that you lost.”
Having said that, Zebulon began building a whirlwind and sent Mustafa flying through a large doorway.
Orville who had been struck with horror at the defeat of his master, decided it was time to remove himself. Swiftly and silently he made his way to an opposite door while Zebulon was thus occupied, but before he made it to safety he was stopped in his tracks.
Zebulon pinned him to the wall while he strode across the room to where his victim was held."Should I treat you the same way?"
He increased the intensity of his power so that Orville began to shake in pain and cried out for him to stop.
"I want you to remember what happens when you cause harm to those dear to me."
“Please, I beg of you... I didn't know it would be like this. I just want to leave and I will never trouble you again,” Orville pleaded.
“Then let me help you on your way.” He gave a further twist and then suddenly blasted Orville through the nearest doorway. He had sent the perpetrators a long way off, but in different directions. He hoped that Orville would have the good sense not to seek Mustafa out, but even if he did, it would take him considerable time, and then he would discover it wasn't worth the effort. Once he had dealt with Orville, he hurried with grave concern to where Saniyah sat with Brock.
“We will take him to your room. It is closest. Send a messenger to fetch Karmen immediately.”
Saniyah pulled on a cord to summon one of her servants. Zebulon, himself greatly weakened by the use of his power could hardly lift Brock's limp body. Brock opened his eyes. He felt he was being lifted into the clouds. He vaguely saw Zebulon and Saniyah above him. It was so nice they were in the clouds with him he thought, before intense pain racked his body and he knew no more.
They lay him on a large bed. Saniyah saw that his head lay gently on the pillow and then she covered him with a soft blanket. Zebulon collapsed to his knees and buried his head in his hands. But then he knew the urgency of what he must do and immediately forgot his own fatigue and sorrow. He raised himself up and began administering a healing spell.
Putting the pendant into the elf's limp hand, Zebulon repeated the healing spell, holding his hands above Brock so that energy flowed down to him. The servant entered and Saniyah sent him on his way once she explained what was to be communicated to Karmen.
