Redeeming the Lost by Elizabeth Kerner
I shot out an arm, grabbed his shirtfront, and pulled his face close to mine before he could react. “He’s got my daughter, you bastard,” I growled. “Do not dare to laugh.”
I could feel the silence behind me, likely barbed or at least pointed, in the sense of several silent blades drawn and aimed. I ignored it—though truth to tell, there was a part of me that was howling at my own reaction. I shoved Hygel away and stood up. “She’s just a girl,” I snarled. “I thought we might exchange information, for I surely to all the Hells know things you don’t, and I need to know how to get in there and find her. Fast. Before anything worse happens.”
Hygel stared at me. I stared back, my fury at Berys beating time with my pulse.
He gestured, and I felt the pressure behind my back melt away. “Sit down, friend Jamie,” he said quietly. “Perhaps we need to talk after all.”
I took my seat again.
“You first, and make it good,” he said, very quietly. “What you need to know is worth a by-our-Lady fortune.”
“Would it surprise you to learn that there are dragons here?” I said, lowering my own voice as much as I could and still be heard. “Not the little ones. The real ones.”
Hygel snorted. “I heard that one two days ago. A True Dragon, one of the big ones. I’d always thought they were legend, and I wouldn’t have believed it if my best local man hadn’t told me. Seems it went into the Súlkith Hills and hasn’t been seen since.”
“Oh, yes, that one did,” I replied, sitting back a little. “Though it’s come down again, not ten miles from here as we speak. But it’s the other hundred and eighty-some you need to know about.”
Give him credit, he never changed his expression, and he swore impressively in a calm voice no different from his normal speech. Finally he calmed down enough to say, “Hells’ teeth and Shia’s toenails, where did you hear that? And do you trust the source?”
“I saw them land. I was there. Dawn this morning.” I smiled crookedly. “And don’t blaspheme the Goddess’s toenails, we’re going to need all the help we can get.”
“Is it conquest, then?” he asked, still in a tone of voice that you’d use to discuss the weather. “Do we need to get away?”
“I doubt it, from what I’ve seen. Though surely the world is changed forever. They are here to stay, Master Hygel, but they are reasonable creatures, and from what I’ve heard they truly want to live in peace. Well, most of them do. Assuming we let them,” I added. “And I don’t care what you’ve heard, or who told you—they’re bigger than that.”
“Well, light my toes and call me a match,” he said, staring at me long and hard. “That’s news and no mistake.”
“News enough for you to tell me how to get to the Archimage?” I asked quietly.
“I told you already, it can’t be done,” he said crossly “Him over there is no fool, more’s the pity. He’s been right cagey with his wrongdoing. There’s those at the College know he’s corrupt—Magister Rikard for a start—but until they have proof there’s damn all they can do about it.” He snorted. “Rikard’s been looking for years, but Be—Himself has kept his head down. If you can prove he’s taken your daughter against her will, Rikard will have him dead to rights and thank you for it.” Hygel grinned briefly. “And likely thank me as well.” He shook his head and leaned forward, dropping his voice. “Problem is, that one’s got demons protecting him, has had for years, and it’s got a great deal worse in the last few days.” He took a draught from my mug of chélan. “Like a stirred ants’ nest that place has been, this last se’ennight. Word has it two of the students went rogue and murdered two of the Magistri.”
“Damn fine students, then, if they could overcome those who taught them,” I said dryly.
“Right enough. But the place is closed in on itself. The main gate is locked, as it hasn’t been since I can recall. Even All Comers is closed. That’s never happened in all my years here.” Hygel lifted an eyebrow. “If you can tell me what’s happened, I can surely get you inside. Undetected, if you’re careful.”
“I know those students,” I said carefully. “They’ve done naught but save lives since I met them. One who knows them better has told me the full tale, that they had caught Ber—his eye, and he had his excuse to destroy four of them at the once. Magistra Erthik and Magister Caillin, found dead outside the students’ door—but found there first by the students as they were leaving. They never touched the Magistri.” He looked doubtful, and I added, “Given that they went on to save the life of my daughter, without even promise of payment, I’m naturally inclined to believe them.”
“Mmm. That squares with what I’d heard,” muttered Hygel. “Perhaps I might trust you after all.” A ghost of a smile flitted across his mouth. “As far as I can throw you, at least. What do you know already of the place?”
“I need to know where he might keep her—where he keeps his prisoners. I’ve a fair idea of the layout, but I need to know how to pass if I’m found.” A great coldness washed over my heart. “Hells’ teeth. Are they all corrupt, there? Could he keep her openly imprisoned and none to question?”
“No,” said Hygel instantly. “There are bad apples in any barrel, but there are fewer at the College than in most places. He’d have to keep her somewhere that none could happen by, and there’s precious few spots like that. There is no dungeon, only the cells where—” Hygel swore. “Aye, that’ll be it, it must be.”
“Tell me.”
“Detention cells, partly below ground level, where they keep the drunks who show up hurt and get rowdy once their wounds are seen to. Stone cells, with thick oaken doors and naught but tiny gratings in the outer wall to let in air and light. There are four of them but one has crumbled on itself—no no, long since, be at ease—so there are only three where she might be held. The gratings all open on to the central courtyard, just beyond the main gates: four gratings in a row, it’s the third along from the right that’s ruined. If she had cried out, a passing student might have heard her. If—”
“If?”
Hygel sighed and swore quietly. “If Rella ever hears I’ve let this out without extracting a price, I swear, she’ll spit down my neck after she’s taken my head off.”
“If what, man?” I hissed.
“If her captor hasn’t cast a silence on her. It’s a demon spell. He’s known to be fond of it. The victim can’t be heard no matter how they shout. And those windows are too high up to reach from inside.”
I knew as if I’d been there that she was held in that spell, else she’d have shouted the place down. My Lanen had never been one to suffer in silence.
“I’d been told of those cells. My informer said they’d not been used in years.”
“Maybe. And maybe they have been but your informer knew nothing of it. I tell you, anything could have happened this last week.”
“The central courtyard, you say?” I frowned at the table. “And All Comers is closed? Damn, I’d been counting on that as a way in.”
“Shut tight and likely locked,” said Hygel thoughtfully, stroking his chin. “But now I think on it, there is a way in.” A slow smile crossed his face. “Magister Rikard owes me quite a favour.” Hygel sat back, as if he had come to a decision. “I do believe I’ll collect on it. He can get you in as a new servant—seemingly there have been quite a few leaving the place of late.” Hygel looked me over. “But not this very moment. You’re dead to the world, man.” He fished out a key from a pocket and handed it to me. “Top of the stairs, second on the left. Two coppers for the room and I’ll throw in supper. Get some sleep.” I started to protest but he cut me off. “Don’t be an idiot. You’ll need all your wits about you, and Rikard comes here for his evening meal every day of the world. I’ll introduce you tonight.”
I took the key and stood up. Goddess aid me, I was swaying on my feet from weariness. Still—“If you have betrayed me, the Seventh Hell itself won’t be deep enough to hide you,” I growled.
“Strictly bus
I nodded and staggered up the stairs, found the room, and fell across the bed. I had thought my anger would sustain me, but I was asleep before I landed.
iv
Father and Daughter
Lanen
Mother? Mother, where are you?
I woke, groggy, from my half dream, my wits scattered to the four winds, deeply unsure of time or place. Who was that calling for her mother? What did she mean, I wasn’t there … no, she wasn’t … it wasn’t me …
I was slumped into a corner in a stone room. Why wasn’t I in my bed? This was Hadronsstead, wasn’t it? A flicker of thought told me Hadron was dead, I must be in the tent on the Dragon Isle—but that wasn’t stone—the tiny Silent Service hut we—no, we all slept on the floor but it wasn’t stone either—some strange inn?
Memory rushed back as I blinked and stood up. It wasn’t easy, I was cold and stiff all over, and my wounds burned. Probably infected by the Rikti. I couldn’t imagine how I had fallen asleep at all, but I suppose there is a price to be paid for the kind of mad strength I’d had. I hoped Marik’s every breath burned his throat.
Unfortunately, I now remembered only too well where I was, and what lay before me. Berys’s dungeon. Hell blast and bugger it.
As best I could tell that first moment of waking, it was midafternoon, but I didn’t have time to pay much attention as there were two of Berys’s bloody huge guards looming over me. The larger of the two pulled me to my feet and closed my wrists in manacles, heavy iron bracelets with a short chain between the two. I noted, still groggy, that it was very peculiar to see this all happening but to hear nothing. It was desperately unreal, as if it were happening to someone else.
The larger of the bears attached a second length of chain to the first, then bolted my leash to a ring set in the stones of the wall. It allowed me very little movement, which presumably was the intention. What worried me was why they were taking this precaution now—and there he was, Berys, waiting in the open doorway with a smug grin on his face.
Suddenly I was very awake indeed. I threw my weight against the chain and succeeded only in battering my wrists. I soon gave it up, but my heart was thumping horribly in my chest. Goddess, this is it, he’s going to sacrifice me right now, I thought desperately. Mother Shia, help me and my babes! I cried out in truespeech with all the strength I could muster. Nothing. It was like shouting into a pillow.
I tried to speak to Berys, but his spell was still in force and I made no sound. He seemed amused by my attempt, so much so that he raised one corner of his mouth in a disturbing smile and waved his right hand. “You still haven’t learned, have you? Feel free to exhaust yourself fighting iron chain. It amuses me.”
“The only thing that would amuse me would be your violent death, sooner rather than later,” I snarled, and was surprised to hear myself speak. Instantly I turned to the bear on my right. “He will break faith with you, you know. It’s only a matter of time until he needs another sacrifice and you’re the only one around,” I said. The guard didn’t even look at me.
“Just because I can hear you, don’t assume anyone else can,” said Berys smugly. “I’m really quite good at selective deafness. As you may have noticed.”
But I had my voice back now, for a blessed moment. And at that instant, even Berys’s voice was better than nothing. Though I expected nothing soon enough.
“Hello again, said a cheerful voice from the door, and there was Marik bearing a torch and smiling broadly. His hair was wet and he smelled as though he had just had a bath, the bastard. I felt like I hadn’t bathed in a year. “Oh, dear, looks like the Rikti had fun playing with you,” he said, grinning. It was quite repellent and I wished he’d stop, but he didn’t.
“Why are you so damned cheerful?” I growled.
His smile broadened. “Why do you think, girl? This day I am free of the pain that has afflicted me since before you were born. Do you have any idea what I have been going through?”
“Hideous torment, I hope,” I replied.
“Knives,” he hissed, all his lightness gone in the instant. He leaned towards me and I swear I could feel his hatred beating against my skin. “I have lived with knives stabbing into my leg, sleeping and waking, for more than twenty years. Pain at rest, pain in movement, pain in every step I have taken every day of the world, since I paid for the Farseer I never got to use, thanks to your dear mother. Yes,” he said, straightening up, the manic edge coming back into his voice and manner, “you will do nicely.”
“Stop wittering and help me,” commanded Berys. Marik went to help him set up what looked like an altar on the hard bed, put ting candles in holders, lighting the coals in a small brazier. My heart dropped like a stone and I struggled desperately against the manacles. I might as well have saved my strength.
Berys started so chant, quietly, and Marik wandered back to me. He came right up to me, fascinated by something. Far too close for comfort in any case.
His eyes never left mine as he said, “Do you know, Berys, I have been learning things again. I do believe you will find my lat est information interesting.”
“I don’t give a damn what you’ve learned,” snapped Berys. “Not now! Draw back her sleeve, I need a sample.”
Marik, stung by Berys’s scorn, sneered and muttered, “Then I shall save my news until it pleases me to tell you.”
Dear Goddess, he hasn’t told Berys yet that I’m pregnant. I sent a wordless prayer of thanks winging to Mother Shia for that strange mercy. It could not last long, surely, but every moment of my tormentor’s ignorance was precious.
Turning to the guards, Marik snapped, “Hold her fast.” He pulled back the sleeve of my grubby tunic and the dingy linen shirt underneath—and suddenly a knife appeared in Marik’s hand and he sliced my arm open. I cried out, in pain and shock, while he told the guards to hold me still as he collected in a brass cup the blood that flowed freely from the deep wound.
“You fool,” said Berys crossly. “We only needed a small sample.” He gestured again with his right hand, as if he were throwing something at me—a bolt of dark blue Healer’s power, shot through with black, struck my arm. For the first second it felt like Healer’s power, but the instant it began to work I started screaming in earnest. The pain of the wound was nothing to the pain of this “healing”—it was as if he had applied a poultice of concentrated stinging nettle to my open wound. My blood flowed even more freely, as if to wash off Berys’s attempt at healing, and somehow that helped. Berys frowned and gestured to Marik, who against his inclination wrapped my arm tightly. The bright blood bloomed through several thicknesses of bandage, but eventually it slowed enough to content Berys.
“What in the name of the Goddess do you need that for, anyway?” I asked through gritted teeth, trying to ignore the pain in my arm.
“I do nothing in the name of the Goddess, but if you must know, girl, I am preparing a great work,” replied Berys. He seemed to have picked up something of Marik’s mood and added cheerfully, “I simply need to know that all will go smoothly. You are going to be part of history. You should be honoured.”
“You should rot in the deepest Hell, but that isn’t happening either,” I snarled. Berys laughed and turned away starting to chant again.
And now Marik stood directly before me, still staring. He seemed to be looking for something in my eyes. I was determined that he would find only disdain and anger. Never fear. Never despair.
“Proud of yourself, are you, Marik?” I sneered. “So, I’m finally to be given to the demons. So impressive. It’s only taken you, what, twenty-four years to find me? And now you have me, chained and helpless, one woman against you and your pet demon-master, and your—trained bears.” The guard still didn’t move a muscle, damn it. “Very brav
Berys started moving his hand and his stump to make figures in the air above the altar. Marik leaned closer to me and spoke quietly. “Oh, you have no idea, girl. In a few hours the Healers in every outpost of the House of Gundar, throughout the Four Kingdoms, will turn the world on its head. Every city, every town with enough folk to make it worth my while, will soon be full of people in constant fear of what evil a nasty Healer might do. Even those we didn’t manage to influence will be shunned, as there is no way of knowing the difference.” He grinned, a wild, unbalanced grin, no more than one step from insanity. “When brave King Marik comes to rid them of this terrible demonic oppression they will hail him as their new master. With delight. I shall come to the throne of the Four Kingdoms on a wave of acclamation.”
He was very near now, relishing his power over me, and floating into my mind came Jamie’s voice, clear as if he stood beside me, from those midnight sessions where he taught me to defend myself without a weapon. If there’s a man you need to drop fast, Lanen . . .
“You’ll come to the throne bloody well limping,” I growled. My arms were bound and held, but my legs were free. I lifted my knee as hard and fast as I could. He doubled over and fell to the ground, turning his back to me. Amazing. Just what Jamie said would happen. I aimed my kick just to one side of his backbone, between the hips and the ribs, and by luck managed to hit the place Jamie had told me about. It was wonderful. He appeared to be in agony, which suited me just fine.
The guards, bless them, were slow to react, but they finally thought to drag Marik away. Berys, turning, didn’t seem in the least concerned. “Put him in the far corner, she can’t reach him there,” he said, disgusted. “Then leave us.”
They laid Marik gently on the stone floor and covered him with the blanket. He was gasping with pain, but his great friend Berys turned to look at him, said, “You’ll live,” and turned back to his altar.