The struggle for authori.., p.34
The Struggle for Authority, page 34
A part of her was tempted to get up and run down there—to help them, or even just to observe the situation for herself. Recognizing her impulse for the folly it was, she restrained herself.
Not all of the soldiers had crossed the bridge before it fell, and men were now lining both banks of the river. A small number of soldiers had been pulled to safety from the water, but most had probably either been swept downriver or drowned.
She could see no sign of either Rhillyon or Will Prentis. She could only hope they had managed to swim away in the confusion as planned. They would surely be discovered if they lingered under the remains of the bridge—there was nowhere there to hide.
The thought of Rhillyon falling into the hands of the Rogandans filled her with alarm. It would be a disaster if Agon’s people suspected the Aen-ur of an attempt on the life of the king. He had to find a way to escape.
As for Will Prentis, she felt certain he would be captured, and the very idea of it chilled her to the bone. The force of his personality might have provoked and aggravated her, but, perverse as she might be, she had come to eagerly anticipate the latest clash of their wills.
The world she had known before he appeared had always seemed rich and full to her. Now it felt strangely routine and colorless; his arrival had added unexpected spice to her life. She had come to count on him being around, and the likely future that stretched out before her now seemed unaccountably bleak.
Her mind became numb as she fully acknowledged the truth for the first time—she could not face the thought of losing him.
36
Catching his first glimpse of a carriage on the road, Will touched Rhillyon’s arm and pointed. Both men had positioned themselves on the near side of the bridge to simplify their escape. Rhillyon nodded, and both of them shifted focus to the ropes beside them.
Will picked up a rope and began to tug with all his might. After almost a minute, the first wedge began to slide. As he continued to strain, he had the satisfaction of seeing the wedge pull loose and plummet down into the river.
The sound of the splash made him wince, but there was no indication that it had been heard by anyone on the bridge.
Another splash immediately followed, and Will saw Rhillyon toss the rope into the river and grasp another. Soon both of them were pulling and discarding, pulling and discarding, as fast as they were able.
Another wedge-shaped block pulled free, and Will saw the first sign that the span above was beginning to give way. A spray of dirt came down as an adjoining block fell into the water of its own accord. Looking up, he saw other blocks poised, ready to fall.
Then abruptly the span collapsed. Stones and men came crashing down together to disappear into the boiling water. Heads began bobbing in and out of the water downstream as soldiers were carried along by the current.
Men were already gathering along the banks of the river, and it was immediately obvious to Will that their position was now exposed.
Rhillyon must have seen it, too, because Will saw him hastily throw the last of his ropes into the water. He did the same, aware of the importance of discarding all evidence of their interference.
A splash sounded as Rhillyon dived into the water. When his head bobbed to the surface again, he was already far downstream. He was now far enough away that Will was hopeful that he would escape capture entirely. For Rhillyon’s own sake, and for the sake of the Aen-ur, such an outcome was crucial.
Will quickly followed him into the water, allowing the current to take him.
He had barely begun to swim when loud cries alerted him to a woman who had just pulled herself from the river downstream. She was searching the torrent, calling out frantically for her daughter. Almost immediately he spotted the child nearby, struggling helplessly in the water.
He groaned. He hadn’t noticed a family approaching the bridge, but they must have been crossing at the moment it collapsed. Striking out vigorously, he headed for the girl. He barely reached her in time. She coughed and spluttered feebly as he held her head clear of the water.
Will swam her to the bank, and hands reached out to pull them both in. The mother appeared and clutched the girl to herself, tears of joy streaming down her face.
Rogandan soldiers had hurried to the riverside to help, and several of them now clustered around Will. “Who are you?” one demanded roughly.
“He’s no Rogandan,” another growled accusingly. “Look at his hair!”
Will had carefully renewed the black dye in his hair and recolored his skin before joining Rhillyon under the bridge. Now he noticed black dye dripping from his head, staining his garments. The water must have rinsed away the dye and exposed his red hair.
“He’s a filthy Arvenian,” a soldier spat. “I skewered enough of them during the war.”
Men quickly crowded in and began striking him. He was hard pressed to keep his feet, and he knew if he went down he would be kicked and trampled to death.
A voice suddenly rang out with authority. “Move away from him immediately! We need him alive. Lady Ona will want to question him.”
The pummeling came to a reluctant end. Hands grabbed him roughly, and he was dragged away and thrown down beside a tree. Several men with drawn weapons gathered around him.
Will’s body felt like one massive bruise. As far as he could tell, none of his bones had been broken. That was something to be grateful for.
People were milling aimlessly around the road now that their progress had been blocked. He imagined that Agon’s men would be trying to decide how best to get across the river. No suitable fords were located anywhere nearby, and the terrain was difficult to navigate on this side of the river. They would need to somehow find a way to repair the bridge. That wasn’t going to be completed anytime soon, and the knowledge gave him considerable satisfaction. How Thomas might contrive to get a glimpse of the king he didn’t know. But the king would certainly be here for some time.
Several hours passed before he saw any sign of order emerging. Tents were starting to appear beside the road, stretching back along the way the column had come. Agon’s tent city was appearing before his eyes. It would undoubtedly be situated here for however long it might take to repair the bridge.
Before nightfall his guard was changed, and he was led to a different location. He now found himself well within the camp, almost certainly inaccessible to anyone who might want to rescue him. Two iron stakes were driven into the ground, and the guards chained him between them. After tossing him a water skin and a small lump of bread, they ignored him completely. It was becoming clear that he was being left to spend a cold night in the open.
* * *
When the dawn came, Will greeted it without enthusiasm. Throughout the night the cold had gnawed away at him, and his bruises left his entire body in a state of constant pain.
He wondered if Thomas would find a way of getting close to the king. It wasn’t easy to see how it might happen, but the disruption might offer at least some kind of opportunity.
Amyra was not far from his thoughts either. She had warned that their escape plan could easily go wrong, and she would no doubt feel completely vindicated by what had just happened. He could well imagine her disdain when he failed to appear and it became obvious that he had been captured.
Dubious as his own prospects might be, it would be a disaster for the Aen-ur if Rhillyon had been captured. That outcome seemed improbable to Will. Rhillyon’s chances would undoubtedly have been good as long as he survived the river. His own people should have been on the lookout for him, and after the drama of the bridge collapse, Agon’s men had been completely disorganized and distracted. It seemed unlikely that the Rogandans would have reached him first.
The morning was not long advanced when a group of guards came and unchained him from the stakes. After tying his hands roughly, they led him to one of the larger and more elaborate of the tents. Four guards stood on duty outside the tent, and their leader instructed his escorts to wait with the prisoner until he was summoned.
A succession of people came and went from the tent, and Will could occasionally hear snatches of conversation from inside the tent, especially when the voices were raised. The most easily distinguished voice was that of a woman. Sometimes she purred, and sometimes she growled, but from the demeanor of people leaving the tent, he was left in no doubt that she was a force to be reckoned with.
Eventually his turn came, and he was unceremoniously dragged into the tent. Before him stood an unusually attractive woman.
She might be attractive, but he couldn’t help noticing that she didn’t have flashing hazel eyes and restless brown locks dancing carelessly about her face.
“Bow before Lady Ona, you dog!” exclaimed the guard, and rough hands forced Will to his knees. He was left wincing at the pressure on his bruises.
Lady Ona’s beauty was real enough, but Will saw at a glance that she was also exceedingly dangerous. She had the look of a person not accustomed to having her will thwarted.
“And who might you be?” she demanded.
“Just a humble merchant, My Lady,” he replied respectfully.
“You were near the bridge when it collapsed. What were you doing there?”
He bowed his head humbly. “My business partner and I had just begun crossing the bridge when it collapsed, and we fell into the water. My donkeys and my business partner were swept away in the river. I had just reached the bank when I was apprehended by your guards—I have no idea why they seized me. I have been left with nothing, and I am worried about the fate of my friend.”
Will had adopted a worried tone, and he was not entirely faking. He allowed his concern about the fate of Rhillyon to flood his thoughts as he was speaking, and he felt sure that he sounded convincing.
Lady Ona, though, was studying him closely, a shrewd look on her face. “What is your name?” she asked in a silky tone.
“I am called Ronald, My Lady,” he replied.
“Well, Ronald, I want you to come for a little walk with me,” she said.
Her delicate hand swept out, indicating the entrance to the tent.
He headed outside with Lady Ona following close behind. Several guards swung in beside him, maintaining a respectful distance from their mistress. They apparently had few concerns about her safety, and Will was left in no doubt about her ability to handle herself.
She pointed toward the remains of the bridge, and he headed obediently in that direction.
They had gone no more than a few paces before she appeared to change her mind. “That’s far enough!” she called, pointing back toward the tent.
Will shrugged, and retraced his steps.
When they were inside the tent once more, Lady Ona turned to the guards. “Untie his hands,” she ordered, “and then leave us.” Seeing their uncertainty, she added, “You need not concern yourselves. I’m well able to handle him.”
Bowing, they cut Will’s bonds and left as she commanded.
“Take off your tunic and your top,” she ordered Will.
A frown of determination came at once to his face. Seeing it, she waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s obvious that you’re covered in bruises. They need to be treated.”
After a moment’s consideration, he shrugged and complied with her request. She pointed him to a stool, and he positioned himself on it while she opened a trunk and rooted through it. Eventually retrieving an expensive looking white container, she removed the lid to expose a fragrant smelling paste. Scooping large dollops of it onto her fingers she gently smoothed it over his skin.
The soothing effect was immediate.
“Thank you,” he said noncommittally when she had finished.
“It’s my pleasure,” she purred, a coquettish smile on her lips. “You’re so strong.” She ran a finger across his shoulders, setting his skin tingling and his face glowing.
“It’s a strange thing,” she told him, shaking her pretty head. “Sometimes we see only what we expect to see. We can completely miss the unexpected, however obvious it might be.”
She smiled daintily. “Take yourself, for example. For many months I’ve been longing to meet the famous Will Prentis in the flesh. But he was the last person I expected to be brought to me in my very own tent this morning!” She gave out a laugh of pure elation, a sound overflowing with triumph and with relish.
Will looked at her with narrowed eyes.
“I can imagine you must be surprised. It was the scars on your face that first alerted me, along with your distinctive red hair under the dye. I simply had to take you for a little walk, just to confirm that you had the characteristic limp I’d heard about.”
She smiled. “It’s so good to meet you, Will. Or should I call you Lord Torbury?” She paused for a moment, musing. “No, I think it has to be Will,” she finally concluded. “The title is much too formal, too stuffy. Not at all appropriate between friends. And we are going to be friends, Will—very special friends.”
She looked at him in a way that sent heat flooding into his cheeks and up into his forehead. His reaction to her brazen provocativeness seemed to please her enormously.
Coming up behind him, she ran her fingers through his hair. “It’s obvious that you have yet to be tamed by a woman,” she breathed. “That is so much the better—for me as well as for you. You will not be disappointed, I promise.”
Leaning over him, she ran a finger along the scar on his right cheek. Her perfume flooded his senses, and he felt his face glow hot once more.
“I know exactly what’s going through your mind,” she said softly. “You can relax. Your bruises are looking very angry right now. Your education can afford to wait a while.”
She smiled sweetly. “Cases like yours can be surprisingly delicate, and I’ve never been one to ruin the moment with over-eagerness. I want to make sure you’re fully able to appreciate the adventure,” she crooned.
He swallowed. He had no intention of being seduced by Lady Ona, but he was painfully aware that he had very little experience dealing with women, and none at all dealing with a woman like her.
Amyra had presented him with more than enough of a challenge. He might have responded clumsily to her, but he sensed that he was stumbling toward the opening movement of a timeless dance. He would have been willing enough to be drawn in if she had ever allowed it, for all that it felt awkward and unfamiliar.
Lady Ona was another matter entirely. She was dancing to a very different rhythm. He couldn’t pretend he didn’t feel its allure, and he could see from the look in her eye that she was more than confident she had his measure. He was determined never to yield to her, but he didn’t doubt for a moment that she intended to make it very difficult for him to resist.
She tossed her head, allowing her lustrous hair to fall forward across her shoulder. Every movement was enticing. She seemed well aware that men found her irresistible.
He tore his gaze away. Seeing it, her full lips formed a smile. It was a predatory smile, and she flaunted it.
Then she sighed, and the spell was broken. “I do have one small obstacle before me. One way or another, the king will soon learn of your existence, and he will be furious if he believes I have tried to withhold you. The problem is that once he finds out who you are, he will undoubtedly want to kill you. He will see your arrival as an ideal opportunity for a spectacle. If I can forestall that, he may over time be persuaded to change his mind. The king is very unpredictable though.”
A look of determination came to her lovely face. “Never fear, Will Prentis. I will do whatever it takes to save you.” She slowly eyed him up and down, a smile of eager anticipation playing across her face. “I have the feeling that you will be well worth the effort.”
Will felt unaccountably exposed and vulnerable.
“Dress yourself,” she commanded.
Calling for the guards, she jerked her head toward her prisoner. “Bring him. We are going to the king.”
She set off toward the largest of the tents, with the guards pulling Will along behind.
The sound of angry yelling reached Will’s ears even before they reached the tent. He saw Lady Ona wince slightly, then she made her way to the guards outside the royal tent. Singling one of them out, she spoke quietly into his ear.
He nodded, before directing a hard glance at Will. Then he seemed to steel himself before stepping inside the tent. He soon emerged, a new round of shouting chasing him outside.
Taking a deep breath, he nodded to Lady Ona.
She came to Will and took his arm. “Leave the talking to me,” she said firmly, guiding him into the tent.
King Agon was sitting on a small throne within the tent, and he glared balefully at Lady Ona as she approached. She bowed low before him. He then switched his gaze to Will. Will contented himself with a nod of the head. He saw alarm flash across Lady Ona’s face, and perversely it gave him at least a small measure of satisfaction.
Curiously, the king did not react. “Who is this bold fool you have brought before me?” he demanded.
“Great King, may you live forever,” she replied. “This man was found near the bridge when it collapsed. The soldiers suspected him of involvement and brought him to me.”
The king’s eyes narrowed. “His head will not be long on his shoulders if that is true,” he said. “Perhaps even if it is not true,” he added with a nasty smile. “Who is he?”
“His name is Will Prentis, although he is also known as Lord Torbury. He is Arvenian.”
The king’s eyes went wide with surprise. “The Will Prentis?” he demanded. “The man who presided over the destruction of Drettroth’s army?” A gloating look came into his eye. “And here he is, completely in my power.”
“I am willing to interrogate him, Your Majesty,” said Lady Ona. “I have ways of uncovering the truth. If you will give him to me for two or three days, I am confident I can expose his true intentions.”
The king turned his gaze on her. Then he threw back his head and laughed. “My Lady Ona, you are so boringly predictable! All this talk of uncovering and exposing—you think of nothing but your unbridled lust.” His face turned suddenly cold. “Your appetites mean nothing to me,” he spat. “I will do as I please with this prize.”
