12
Tariel spent the rest of the day with Riann, who had been posted atop the crumbling battlements. Lord Traize had ordered the watch to be doubled, and had pulled all of his men behind the keep walls aside from a few scouts patrolling the entrance to the valley. No one would come in or out of this place without beingnoticed.
I wish I could make us invisible,Tariel thought morosely as she stared out at the valley. She had tried it once or twice already, but making herself disappear seemed to be beyond her current capabilities. She didn’t know why that would be so much more difficult than changing her appearance, and wished she understood the rules of magicbetter.
What would happen once she reached the Maroyan Empire? Tariel knew that if she really wanted to get anywhere, she would have to apprentice herself to another mage. And if she wanted to become a battle mage, she would need to charm her way into the Imperial Court and convince one of the battle mages to take her under her wing. As a half-foreigner, that would not be an easy feat. She had no doubt the Maroyans would question her quite heavily, but she welcomed the idea. Perhaps someone would finally look into her past, and she would figure out who her parents were. Yarim and Calrain seemed convinced that the late Princess Allia had been her mother, but there were too many things about that theory that didn’t make any sense. How could Allia have had her, and then Prince Raglar, only six monthsapart?
There must be another explanation, Tariel thought. The idea that she was actually Fjordland royalty, robbed of her birthright and sent to live with a woman who did not want her, was almost more than Tariel could bear to thinkof.
“Oi, Riann,” a rough male voice said, and Tariel and Riann turned to see a bandit climb up onto the parapet. “I’ve been told to relieve you so this beast can be presented to Lord Traize duringdinner.”
Tariel instinctively pressed her body against Riann’s legs. He had told her a bit about Lord Traize, and the idea of being owned by such a depraved man, even under a pretense, was abhorrent to her. But she had no choice but to go through with it, so she followed Riann down the steps, then to the greathall.
The bandit who had “captured” her earlier was waiting, and it was he who presented her to Lord Traize as he sat at the high table. Sallara sat to his left, her green eyes narrowed, and to his right was a strapping young man that looked to be her twin. A young, scantily clad woman was in Lord Traize’s lap, feeding him with trembling fingers, and Tariel’s stomach twisted as she realized this must have been the girl Riann had told her about. The one whose husband was trapped in the dungeons below as leverage to ensure she served Lord Traize in whatever manner hedesired.
“My lord,” the bandit said, bowing. “My nephew and his friends found this dog in the woods today. She seems to be a hunting dog, and quite healthy, so I thought you might wish to seeher.”
The baron’s eyes gleamed as he leaned in, far more interested in Tariel than he was in the woman on his lap. Tariel took in slow, deep breaths to control her anger—she could not afford a lapse in concentration, not when maintaining her illusion was the difference between life and death. This man had sent his men out to look for her—if he knew the witch he sought was standing right in front of him, he would have herkilled.
“Yes, that is a black-mouth cur,” the bandit leader said. “A beautiful dog, and worth several gold pieces. You did very well.” He pushed the woman aside to fish out a gold coin from his pocket, and flipped it to the bandit. “Yourreward.”
“Thank you, my lord.” The bandit grinned as he snatched the coin out of the air. “Would you like me to take her to thekennels?”
“No, I think I’ll keep her right here.” He whistled, and Tariel obediently trotted over to him, planting herself between him and his son so that she was far away from the witch. She cringed as he sank his fingers into what he thought was the fur on top of her head, but was perilously close to her crotch. “She’s a fine specimen. It’s too bad we do not have a matched pair, or we could breedher.”
“She seems too intelligent to be a dog,” the son remarked, looking down at her. This close, Tariel could see that he was quite handsome—large and broad-shouldered, with a chiseled jaw, high cheekbones, and a full mouth that was twisted down into a frown. His chestnut hair curled around his face, and his green eyes, the color of jade, glittered icily as he looked down at her. A shiver raced down Tariel’s spine—did he suspect that she was more than what she appeared tobe?
“That’s what I told Baldrich when I first saw it,” Sallara said. “But he insisted I didn’t know what I was talkingabout.”
Lord Traize laughed. “Baldrich is right,” he said, petting Tariel again. “It is obvious neither of you know anything about dogs. These special breeds are much more intelligent than the average mutt. You will get used to her intime.”
Tariel was forced to remain by Lord Traize’s side throughout the entire meal. It was a very uncomfortable experience, sitting next to all this delicious-smelling food while not being able to have any of it, and on top of it, enduring Lord Traize’s touch while his children stared at her. The son—Wellion, she learned he was called—seemed particularly unnerved, and kept looking at her throughout the meal. Tariel did her best to ignore him, and comforted herself by stealing glances at Riann, who sat with the other bandits. He did not seem particularly happy about her sitting with the bandit leader, but there was nothing either of them could do aboutit.
Don’t worry about it, Tariel thought, sending a soothing pulse down the bond.We’ll get out of this soonenough.
Some of Riann’s anger dissipated, and he sent a wave of affection down the bond that made Tarielsmile.
Eventually, the meal concluded, and as Lord Traize rose from his seat, Tariel took a step toward Riann, thinking that he would take her away under the pretense of taking her to thekennels.
But Lord Traize had other ideas, and he whistled for her to come back. “A fine beast like you shouldn’t spend her first night alone in a kennel,” he said. “You’ll sleep with me in my chamberstonight.”
Tariel shuddered, especially when Lord Traize put his arm around the woman and led her away. To a casual observer, it would have seemed like an affectionate gesture, but Tariel noted the way his fingers dug into her waist, and the panicked look in the woman’s eyes. Anger flared in her chest, and she gritted her teeth as she followed them up the stairs and into a large suite of rooms far better appointed than anything she had seen in this dilapidated keep sofar.
“P-please,” the woman stammered as the baron backed her toward the large, four-poster bed in the center of the bedroom. “I-I am still sore from l-lastnight…”
“Do you think I care whether you’re sore or not?” the baron spat. He shoved her hard, and she landed on the mattress with a cry of pain. Tariel swallowed back the gorge that rose in her throat as the baron hiked up her skirts, exposing dark blue bruises on her pale thighs. “You exist to serve at my pleasure, day or night. Your feelings are of no consequence. Stop crying!” He slapped the woman hard, and the crack that reverberated throughout the room frayed what little control Tariel had left. Her illusion began to flicker, and magic sizzled at her fingertips, begging to bereleased.
Tariel desperately wished she could unleash her power and kill the bandit where he stood. But that would make it even harder for her and Riann to escape, so instead she waved her hand, showering the two with sparks of magic and willing them both to sleep. Instantly, the woman’s eyes rolled back in her head, and the baron collapsed atop her, alreadysnoring.
Disgusting,Tariel thought, dropping the illusion completely. She shoved the bandit leader off the woman, rolling him onto his back so that he wouldn’t crush his unwilling concubine in hersleep.
She thought about simply taking the woman out of here and running, but there was no way without being seen, which would blow any chance of rescuing Riann. Stomach churning with guilt and revulsion, she backed toward the door, her mind spinning. Could she stand to stay here the rest of the night, knowing the baron might wake up and try to rape his prisoner again? On the other hand, how could she leave her likethis?
I need to find Riann,she thought as she opened the door. She turned her attention to the bond as she stepped into the hall. Perhaps he would have an idea about how they could save the woman, some place they might be able to hide her until they could all escapetogether—
“And who the hell are you?” a deep voice asked as she ran straight into a hard, muscled chest. Fear lanced through Tariel as she looked up into icy green eyes, rooting her to the spot. It was Wellion, Lord Traize’sson.
And she was not wearing herillusion.
“Unhand me!” Tariel cried as he grabbed her wrists. She lashed out at him with her magic, trying to get him to fall asleep, but though Wellion flinched, he did not slump to the ground like the other victims she had tried thison.
His full lips curled into a sneer. “Soyouare the witch my father has been searching for.” He yanked her to him, and the next thing she knew, he was shoving her against the wall, his hand on herthroat.
“Explain yourself,” he growled, his body pressed against hers as he bared his teeth. “Or I will kill you where youstand.”
