The Playful Prince

by Michelle M. Pillow

  Lord Myrddin’s red face turned, as he pointed to the dead soldier and said, “Someone, get rid of him.”

  Tori shook, feeling faint. Her eyes watered as she stared at the shore. He’d left her. Quinn had left her.

  “Come,” Lord Myrddin said, his voice softening. “Don’t let all this scare you, my lady. So long as you behave, you’re to be a guest in my home. You’ll be treated with kindness, given food, shelter.”

  “B-be-behave?” she stuttered, feeling very cold and wet. As he waved her forward again, she took a shaking step toward him. Better to use her legs than to be dragged.

  “All in due time, Doctor Elliot,” he soothed. “All in good time. Come, let us warm you first.”

  Quinn pressed his body to the tree, gripping the trunk as he tried not to pass out. He was high off the ground, hidden in the branches. The drug they’d given him was potent, but at the moment his will was stronger. It took everything he had to keep from falling and thus being captured.

  The memory of Tori’s pale, frightened face wouldn’t leave him. She’d looked so fragile, so confused as she stared at him from the shallow pool. But, he thought with pride, she bravely tried to negotiate with Lord Myrddin and didn’t let herself get captured without a fight. Quinn chuckled grimly, and it was her memory alone that kept him holding on.

  34

  Tori glared at Lord Myrddin, hating him with her entire being. He was an evil man. If she doubted it before, she knew so now. Slowly, she shook her head in firm denial. There was no way she could do what he asked of her. “Kill me if you will, but I can’t do this for you. There is no way I’m going to have a hand in genocide.”

  “Yeah, you see, I’m not exactly sure what the word genocide means, Doctor Elliot,” Lord Myrddin answered, waving his hand. He chuckled softly and added, “And, honestly, I really don’t care.”

  His long purple cloak whirled around his feet as he walked. He was dressed similar to Quinn and his brothers, but his clothing was tight and had no laces that showed peeks of skin. Rings adorned his fingers, and a silver clasp kept the long locks of his hair back from his face. From what she knew of him he had to be several hundred years old, perhaps one of the oldest Var she had met. By human estimation, he didn’t look a day over forty. He was a handsome man, in a completely demented, went insane three hundred years ago, sort of way.

  Tori’s eyes narrowed in on him. They were in Lord Myrddin’s castle home, in his dark study. Firelight glinted over them, providing the only light. The fireplace was huge, dominating the room with its presence. The dark stone reflected the mood of the man before her quite well. She’d seen similar castles before in Old Earth history books. She felt small under the intimidatingly high ceilings. No doubt that was the elder’s intent when he’d designed it.

  Lord Myrddin had several wives, many of whom had waited on her since her arrival. They walked around him on tiptoes, their eyes always on the floor as they simpered and bowed. They refused to speak to her, refused to help her. The pitiful creatures looked more like they were beaten into submission than respectful.

  Tori shivered. He wanted to finish some experiment he’d started nearly a century ago. Only too willingly, did he tell her about how the original scientists had defied him, trapping their Var guard in the cage at the cave laboratory, next to the Draig man they’d been forced to use for experiments. Obviously, by the bones they’d discovered, the men hadn’t been let out, but locked up and left to starve to death. The defiant scientists were captured and slowly tortured, before finally meeting their end.

  Tori got the distinct impression that Lord Myrddin told her the story, in gruesome detail, to scare her. It worked. She was terrified. But how could she agree to murder a race of people? It went against everything she’d ever done as a scientist.

  “Oh, all right,” Lord Myrddin said, waving a nonchalant hand like he was giving in. Tori blinked, wondering what he was up to. “I tried to ask nicely, I even said please. However, if you insist on doing this the fun way, then I’ll just have to play along.”

  “What do you mean?” Tori gulped. She felt the blood draining from her face. She could only imagine what this man would consider fun.

  “Guards!”

  Tori jolted as the door opened. She whirled around, panting in fear. Battered and bruised, Vitto, Grant, and Prince Reid were dragged into the room by several guards. Tori felt sick. It was obvious they’d been through hell. Their hands were bound behind their backs, and they looked as if they hadn’t eaten for the three days they’d been at the castle. At least she’d been locked into a room with a bed and food. She waited for Falke, but he was missing. Terror struck her. Where was Prince Falke?

  “Oh, tsk, tsk, why such a worried face, Doctor Elliot. Aren’t you enjoying yourself? You wanted to play tough, so we’re playing tough.” Lord Myrddin walked past her, his hand gliding over her shoulder, making her jerk away from him. He merely chuckled, pleased, as he moved over to the men. He studied them for a moment, letting silence fall over the chamber, marred by heavy breathing and the crackling fire. Finally, he glanced over his shoulder at her. “Isn’t this what you wanted? What did you think would happen when you denied my simple request?”

  “Killing is not a simple request,” she whispered hoarsely.

  “Oh, that’s where you’re wrong.” Lord Myrddin’s brow rose in challenge. He smiled and walked again across the room, not touching her this time as he passed near. Tori closed her eyes and shivered. She heard him behind her and turned to watch him draw a sword from the wall. He studied the sharp blade, letting the orange fire reflect off its shiny surface. “Killing is perhaps one of the simplest of acts, so easy to do, so impossible to reverse.”

  “You’re a monster,” Tori spat, glaring at him. She was too afraid to do much else, especially when he twisted the sword in his hand, leisurely showing that he knew how to use it.

  “Yes, but that’s beside the point, isn’t it doctor?” Again he chuckled.

  “Leave her alone, Myrddin,” Reid growled, lurching forward against his restraints. “You have no quarrel with the humans.”

  The elder frowned and motioned to the guards. One guard grabbed Reid’s head, and the other kneed him in the stomach. The prince fell to the ground, moaning.

  “So, Doctor Elliot,” Lord Myrddin continued as if there had been no interruption. He lifted his sword and slowly pointed at each man in turn. “Which one of them will it be? Would you like to decide or shall I?”

  Tori panted erratically, turning to look at the three prisoners. Her whole body shook. She couldn’t take much more of this. The men’s eyes met hers. Grant’s were nearly swollen shut. Reid shook his head, telling her no, pleading with her not to give in. Vitto’s lips parted, but she couldn’t tell what he mouthed to her. She had no choice. She couldn’t push Lord Myrddin any further, for she had no doubt he’d make good on his threats. Weak, her voice a breathless whisper, she said, “Put your blade back, my lord.”

  “Excuse me, doctor?” Lord Myrddin’s voice boomed. “I couldn’t hear.”

  “I said,” she gritted her teeth, turning to glare at him though still shaking violently, “put back your blade.”

  “You’ll do it?” he asked, swinging the sword back and forth lightly. Tori quickly nodded. A side of his lip curled up. “Very good, Doctor Elliot.”

  “I need Doctor Grant’s and Doctor Vitto’s help,” Tori said, trying to sound calm as she lied. She could probably do it on her own, but she wouldn’t let him know that. “Doctor Grant specializes in DNA research and Doctor Vitto is the only one who’s been trained to run some of our equipment. We’re a team and can work a lot faster if there are three of us. Otherwise, it could take me months, perhaps a year or more to do what you ask.”

  “Done,” he said, motioning to the guards. They cut the two scientists free. Vitto and Grant landed on their hands and knees, moaning in unison. Tori rushed over to them, trying to examine their wounds without hurting them. Glancing up at Reid, she whispe
red, “And I want you to release Prince Reid and Prince Falke. They’ll give you their word that nothing will happen to you for this.”

  “Ah, no.” Lord Myrddin placed the sword back on the wall, laughing. “But, I do applaud your audacity in trying. I admire a woman with guts.”

  “Then I want you to let me tend their wounds and I want them fed. Either this or you make your own blasted weapon. Those are my terms.” Tori stood, knowing there wasn’t much she could do for Grant and her brother at the moment. She needed a medical laser, first aid kit, something.

  “Very well, I’ll humor you for now, Doctor Elliot. You may tend to them. But, if you don’t make reasonable progress, I will be forced to renegotiate our deal.” His voice lowered, as he stepped forward. His face drew close to hers, and he looked at her lips, eyeing them as if he would kiss her. Softly, his mouth a hairsbreadth away from hers, he said, “I don’t relish hurting you, Doctor Elliot, for you’re a very lovely woman, and I abhor scarring beautiful things.” His mouth moved to her ear. “But you don’t need your legs to be able to do your work. Are we understood?”

  Tori nodded, unable to look at him directly when he stood so close.

  “Good.” Lord Myrddin turned to the guards and ordered, “Take her and the two scientists to the lab so that they may get started. Show Prince Reid to his...room.”

  “But you said...” Tori began in protest as Reid was roughly dragged off. He looked so battered, so defeated.

  “I said you could tend to them, Doctor Elliot. I didn’t say when. You’ll have your chance, just as soon as you give me what I want. It lies on your head now. If they die, it will be your fault. So I suggest you work fast.” Lord Myrddin turned his back on them and walked to his desk. The guards gripped her arm and jerked her forward when she didn’t move fast enough.

  “Men like you always get what’s coming to them,” she screamed, glaring hotly at him. She wished with all her heart Quinn was with her. She wasn’t sure what he’d be able to do, but his nearness would bring her comfort. No, that was selfish. If he was here, he’d be as battered as the others. It was a good thing he ran when he did.

  Lord Myrddin laughed. His dark words followed her as she was forced down a narrow hall. “Sorry my dear, but in reality they don’t.”

  35

  Tori looked over her shoulder at the Var guard. He was standing on the other side of the bars to their giant cell, watching her through the iron strips. He stared at her, had been staring at her since they came to the “laboratory.” She knew well the hunger in his eyes. He wanted her, and that terrified her. Slowly, he licked his lips, causing her to shiver in fear and repulsion. She thought of Quinn. When she closed her eyes, she could almost feel him near her. Her heart called out to him, wanted him. Her brain feared for him and silently begged that he stay away, far from harm.

  “Ignore him, Tori,” Vitto said, placing a hand on her shoulder. She turned to him and nodded, before moving to where Grant sat. They were still pretty banged up, but after being fed and cleaned up, they looked better, if not a little weak.

  The laboratory was in the dungeon of Lord Myrddin’s castle. She had no doubt that he’d placed them there on purpose. The stone was dusty and smelled bad, hardly an ideal scientific environment, but they could make do.

  They’d walked past Reid in his cell to get to theirs. The man’s eyes pleaded with them not to do it. But, how could she not? She couldn’t condemn them to death. But, if she did, she’d be condemning a whole race to death. Could she live with herself if she let Vitto, Grant, and the two princes die? Could she live with herself if she let a whole race of innocent people die? All she could do was pray for a miracle, pray that Quinn had escaped. Thinking of it, she wanted to cry. Her eyes watered, and there was an ache deep in her chest. Quinn might already be dead.

  “We can’t do this,” Tori said, leaning over Grant and pretending to watch what he was doing. He was looking up the sequencing for the black moss, trying to figure out what the scientists before them had done. The equipment they were given was old, more than likely taken from the laboratory within the caves.

  The guard made an aggressive sound. She turned to him, realizing he’d heard her and said quickly, “This equipment is old. It’s going to take longer. Ask Lord Myrddin if he has anything newer that we may use.”

  The guard stared at her for a long time.

  “Fine, but when he asked why we can’t work faster, I’m telling him you didn’t report our request.” Tori shrugged and turned her face away toward Grant. She closed her eyes, stiff, waiting.

  “Very well,” the guard said at length. She sighed, glancing back over her shoulder to see him leaving.

  Tori grabbed a piece of paper and wrote, “Room bugged? Don’t talk. Grant, need to get black moss sequencing and work to see if we can kill it. Vitto and I need to make show of trying to make progress.”

  Both men nodded.

  Tori took a deep breath and began tearing the paper into tiny pieces, dropping them around the dirty floor. Aloud, she said, “The guard will be back soon. I need to know what you guys think.”

  “You’re the boss,” Grant said. “We’ll do what you tell us.”

  “Vitto?” Tori asked.

  “Yeah, Tor, whatever you say,” Vitto answered.

  “All right you guys, I have no wish to die in here. Let’s just do this and hope that we can get off this planet before the damned weapon is released. Afterward, no one will ever know what we did.”

  “You’re right, Tori, we don’t belong here. This isn’t our problem,” Vitto answered. “HIA made us come.”

  “Yeah,” Grant said. “It’s not our problem. They dug their own graves. I just want to go home now.”

  “Do you think Lord Myrddin will let us out of here?” Vitto asked, sounding scared though his face was serious as he looked at his sister. They all knew the little play they were putting on was just that, a play.

  “If not...if we have to stay here, better to be at the devil’s side than in front of him.” Tori took a deep breath. She wanted Quinn. She wanted him now. “If we do as he says, he’ll likely keep us alive. So, let’s make him happy and get to work.”

  The three nodded silently. Tori and Vitto began the tests to see where the previous scientists had left off. Grant turned back to the computer, trying to pull up old files. They didn’t speak again.

  36

  Quinn was tense with anger, as he hid out of view of Lord Myrddin’s castle fortress. The black stone rose over the marshes, forbiddingly covered in a green moss, looking as if the old stone grew up from the swamplands surrounding it. His helplessness in the situation ate at him, until he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, could think of nothing but her. Tori.

  He remembered her face, as she’d stood in the stream. Her eyes had begged him for protection, but he lay helpless on the ground. He’d been unable to save her, and he cursed himself because of it. If he hadn’t of been so preoccupied with trying to figure out her feelings for him, he could’ve focused on what happened around him. He liked to think that, had his head been clear, he’d have been able to protect her. But, he’d failed.

  Remorseful, he remembered his words to her about the Old Earth custom of killing and bringing forth a ferocious teddy bear as a date offering. He’d told her it was good to choose a man who could defend her against such dreaded beasts. It was good advice when he gave it, and it was good advice still. He obviously wasn’t the best person to protect her. When he was next to her, emotion took over, and he didn’t think straight.

  He could only assume that is what King Attor meant when he spoke of love being a weakness. The way he felt, the way he could hardly concentrate, the way she constantly danced in his brain, it wasn’t good. It was turning him into a madman. He couldn’t afford to be so preoccupied with her. She didn’t belong in his world. She didn’t belong with him. He hadn’t wanted to admit it before, but now he had no choice. When her assignment was over, Doctor Tori Elliot needed to go. It was better f
or both of them if she did, for she’d be safe, and he’d regain his sanity.

  Quinn frowned. He hated that he’d been forced to leave her, but he wouldn’t have done any of them any good by getting himself caught. The drug Lord Myrddin shot him with took well over a day to wear off. He hid up in the tree as long as he could, before deciding it was safe to come down. Shifting into his cougar form, he’d found a small hiding spot within the forest to lie down. He’d slept, unable to help himself, as the drug finally took over his system.

  When he awoke, disorientated and with a massive headache, he’d stumbled his way back to the Var palace, remaining on all fours. Even with the added strength and speed of his cougar form, the walk took him three times longer than it should have. Kirill met him at the side gate, and it was less than an hour before they were ready to leave again.

  Peering across the forest from where he crouched, Quinn slowly nodded at his brother. Kirill was shifted to a black panther. His expression was rigid with anger. He knew the king feared for the captured princes and the human scientists. None one of them suspected Lord Myrddin would go as far as he did.

  Quinn’s head still hurt, but sheer determination kept him from paying attention to it. A roar built in his throat, but he held it back. He was so angry his limbs shook. His brothers were inside Lord Myrddin’s castle. Tori was in there. His heart squeezed painfully in his chest. He felt sick, hearing her voice echo in his head.

  Quinn...

  Glancing to his other side, he nodded at Treven who was in human form. The soldier nodded back. Treven was a tiger shifter and one of the best soldiers they had. Only the three of them had come. If Lord Myrddin had placed a watch on the palace, it wouldn’t do to have an army of vicious cats marching out of it.

  Slowly, all three shifters crept forward, ready to pounce. Jumping up, Kirill and Quinn each landed on a guard, placing their sharp teeth against their throats to keep them from crying out. They didn’t break the skin but held them pinned to the ground in warning. Treven instantly injected the men with a sleeping agent. The brothers held them, teeth on necks, until they drifted off. There was no reason to kill unless their hand was forced. When this was over, each of Lord Myrddin’s men would have a fair hearing about their part in this treachery.