That time the vibration rattled against her eardrum when she put her ear to the door to listen.
She jerked away.
She was on the point of removing the bar when she suddenly recalled why she’d placed it across the door to start with.
“Who is it?” she asked.
There was a moment’s hesitation—as if the question had thrown whoever was on the other side of the door. “Kena,” responded a female that sounded vaguely familiar to Lauren.
She frowned when she realized she was no wiser for having asked.
“The master requested a private supper in his apartment. I have brought it.”
Oddly enough, the divine smell made it through the door only moments before that delightful announcement.
Lauren removed the bar from the door, opened it a small crack to make sure it was only the one woman and then stepped back and allowed her entrance when she saw it was only the one, youngish to middle aged woman that had shown her around the keep before—apparently because she had been ordered to because she hadn’t been the least bit friendly—in point of fact just the opposite.
She frowned as she watched the woman carry a large, heavily laden tray across to the small, informal dining table near the hearth and set it down. It was covered with a cloth but the smells emanating from it made Lauren’s belly growl.
“Your name is Kena?” she asked.
The woman sent her a startled look. “Yes, mistress.”
Lauren’s frown deepened. “I could have sworn ….” The memory continued to elude her however, and her mind switched gears from puzzling over the woman’s name to the meal she’d brought. “Rama is back from his hunt?”
She had the sense that the question threw the woman, but that time she managed to prevent herself from casting a startled look at Lauren.
“The King was spotted by the lookout returning along the pass,” the woman responded, and then issued something between a bow and a curtsy, hurried to the door, and went out.
There was something … unsettling about the woman’s behavior, but Lauren couldn’t quite put her finger on it—anymore than she could figure out why it was that she had the feeling that the woman’s name wasn’t Kena.
Well, she was almost a hundred percent certain she’d never heard that name before.
What she wasn’t certain of was whether or not she could recall anyone calling the woman by a different name.
It seemed that she could recall that, but the memory only teased and never fully materialized.
She moved to the table, drawn by the delicious smells of freshly baked bread and roasted meat. Picking up the edge of the cloth, she tried to pierce the gloom and failed. She dropped the cloth again and went in search of the thin branch she’d seen Rama use to light the lamps. Taking it from the mantle above the fireplace, she held the tip to the fire until it caught and nursed the tiny flame until she’d lit the lamps around the room. She moved into the bath and lit one on the small table there where he kept his brush and razor and then moved into the bedroom and lit a lamp there.
Satisfied, she wet her fingers on the way back through the bath and pinched the small flame out.
This time when she lifted the cloth, she saw the offerings well enough to identify that she’d been right—bread and cheese and roasted meat and a pitcher of ‘wine’. Sweat was already beading the side of the container and she decided to move the pitcher to the window embrasure to try to keep it cool.
Until Rama arrived.
She looked back at the tray a little longingly.
It was his meal, though.
She thought there looked to be plenty for two, but she hadn’t been invited.
And it would be beyond rude to help herself to his food without waiting for his arrival.
She debated with herself about it briefly, reminding herself he hadn’t shown up at lunch or made any sort of arrangements for her.
Of course, he’d probably expected her to go down the hall and eat with everyone else.
But she hadn’t and she was really hungry.
She moved to the table and whipped the cloth off, staring at the food and trying to decide if she could filch just a bite to hold her until he got back.
The bread had been sliced. She stared at it for a long moment and finally took the smallest piece at one end and a crumbled bit of cheese then she covered the tray again and moved to a chair, nibbling.
It seemed a very long time passed and there was no sign of Rama.
The woman had said he was spotted coming along the pass by the lookout.
A lie? Or a mistake?
He wouldn’t be alone. He always took a hunting party out when he went.
Well, it wasn’t as if she’d been at the castle long enough to be completely familiar with his habits, but he was a king. She couldn’t imagine that he ever left to do anything without having an entourage tagging along. It was what important people did.
On Earth, at least.
She could more easily imagine it would also be a custom here than not.
His father had been assassinated, after all.
She finished the small wedge of bread and cheese while she pondered it. It was all she could do to swallow the last little bit for the dryness of her throat. She got up and moved to the pitcher. Unfortunately, one whiff was enough to convince her she didn’t want any part of it. Whatever it was was pungent—not mildly fruity smelling.
There was nothing but hot water in the bath, but she was desperate enough to scoop several handfuls up to drink. It was still better than trying to drink whatever beverage the maid had brought up.
Apparently the woman was wrong and Rama wasn’t about to arrive any second.
She went back to make sure the cloth was tucked tightly to keep his food warm and then, on second thought, moved the tray from the table to the hearth.
She managed to spill meat juices on her in the attempt and decided she should get cleaned up anyway—just in case Rama was interested in spending their last night together romping in bed.
She’d sent everything except what she had on back already.
Unfortunately.
Sighing with disgust, she went in to the bedroom and peered out the window.
The sun was nearing the horizon, she saw, and deep shadows were climbing across the rocky terrain.
She saw no sign of Rama at all and couldn’t decide whether that meant they were nearing the keep and out of sight, or if they hadn’t even reached the pass.
She went to the door and listened, but there was nothing to indicate the sort of excitement Rama seemed to generate just by appearing.
After a moment, she went back to the bath, removed her t-shirt and panties and washed the stain from the T. Then she got in and bathed.
She’d just rinsed her hair when the first cramp hit her, so hard she doubled over and strangled on the water in the pool. She managed to claw her way to the surface, but a disorienting wave of dizziness swept through her, disorienting her so thoroughly that she couldn’t find the rim of the pool. She flailed blindly, fighting against panic, and finally managed to strike the edge, grasp it with both hands and heave herself upward. She basically fell out, unable to catch herself, and sprawled in a puddle of water on the stone floor.
She lay still for a handful moments, trying to figure out what had happened, but she was driven by the pain in her belly to search frantically for the toilet. She found it just in time and puked until it felt like she was puking up her toenails.
She was so rung out by the time the spasms ceased that she simply slid to the floor, wavering between awareness and unconsciousness, certain she needed help but unable to think clearly enough to know what to do.
* * * *
Rama rode his loyal kinji to death in his desperation to reach Lauren before the assassin had done his evil deed.
He felt ill when the poor beast stumbled through the gates and promptly collapsed, narrowly escaping being crushed as it rolled onto its side.
But he
could do nothing for it.
There might still be time to save Lauren.
Shoving his way past the men and servants who’d rushed out to greet him, he bellowed for the captain of the guard as he raced inside the great hall and then up the stairs.
Kilgen caught up with him just as he reached the upper floor and pelted down the corridor to his room.
“They set a trap,” he growled. “Alf-red and that bitch of a daughter, Althea! I sent the men I had left after the battle to try to catch her before she crossed into Livina. I need you to send a contingent to strengthen their numbers if she has men waiting at the border.”
They’d reached the suite while Rama barked out orders and then he discovered something that threw him for a loop.
The door was barred.
He glanced a question at Kilgen, but it was clear that Kilgen was as stunned as he was. Without a word they both stepped back and then slammed their shoulders into the panel.
It took them more them twenty minutes to beat the door down and Rama was inclined to think they couldn’t have managed it in that time if their pounding on the door hadn’t brought reinforcements.
The first thing that caught Rama’s gaze when they broke in was the food on the tray on the hearth.
The second, as he raced through the suite to find Lauren, was her curled in a tight ball beside the bathing pool.
Fearing he was already too late, he dropped to his knees and gathered her into his arms.
She was so cold his heart nearly failed him.
“Lauren, my love,” he murmured, searching her for any sign of life.
Chapter Thirteen
Hearing Rama’s voice as if from a tremendous distance, Lauren struggled to rouse herself, to find her voice to respond. “Poisoned,” she whispered, still focused on her desperation to get help.
“Yes,” Rama responded surging to his feet with her, relieved that she was still alive, certain that would not be the case long in he did not do something fast.
His first instinct was to get her warm and dry and he headed into his bedroom with her and settled her on the mattress of the bed long enough to dry her with the nearest thing that came to hand and then he dragged the sheets from the bed and wrapped them around her.
And all the while he attended her, he barked out orders to Kilgen to secure the castle and begin a search.
“Who did this, Lauren? Do you know?”
The brisk toweling had roused Lauren considerably—enough that her teeth began to chatter. “Said name Dena,” she managed to say.
Rama shot a questioning look at Kilgen. “You are certain?”
Lauren shook her head. “Said that. Lied. She showed me around Do-ran du. Take me home. Please? They can help me.”
“Gil-liana,” Kilgen growled angrily.
Rama contained his rage with an effort. “Find her. Find out who conspired with her and then deal with it. Secure our borders. Guard my holdings until I return. I am taking Lauren to her people.” He scooped Lauren off the bed as he said the last.
“Need the pad,” she said urgently. “By the wall.”
“It is that black thing that she used earlier,” Kilgen volunteered. “She brought it up onto the ramparts and then she placed her belongings on it and they … disappeared.”
“Grab it and bring it,” Rama ordered.
Kilgen turned white. “Sire ….”
Rama shot a furious glare at him. “Bring it,” he said through gritted teeth.
Kilgen was not certain whether he was more afraid of his king or the thing that had made fire that consumed everything it touched, not even leaving ash where it had been. He finally decided, though, that Rama would strike him dead if he did not do as he had been ordered and he rushed over to the thing and very gingerly picked it up by two fingers.
The guards along the walls looked as if they weren’t certain of whether to run or hold their ground when they saw Rama carrying the woman and then Kilgen following them carrying the witching thing the woman had used earlier.
Kilgen rushed to the spot where it had been placed earlier and dropped it and then, with obvious relief, rushed to the men along the walls and pointed to half a dozen of them. “Issue a call to arms. Prepare the keep for an assault. You six, spread out and find the serving woman, Gil-liana and take her to a cell for questioning. We have an assassin—and possibly more conspirators among us. Find them! Do not allow them to escape or it will be your head that rolls!”
Rama was peripherally aware of the orders Kilgen was passing on, and relieved that Kilgen had everything in hand. Primarily, however, he was focused on Lauren. “I do not know how this thing works, love.”
Lauren roused again, struggling briefly. “I have to stand on it.”
As reluctant as Rama was to let go of her, he did not hesitate. He knew from past experience that she could not have much time. He settled her very carefully on her bare feet on the black circle that Kilgen had brought. “What now?”
“You must move away.”
Rama’s jaw hardened. “I will not.”
Lauren didn’t honestly have the strength to argue. “You can’t touch me … unless you want to be wearing my boobs when we get there,” she said in an attempt at humor.
Rama let go of her instantly, as if he’d been burned and, despite how badly she felt, Lauren felt a touch of amusement.
She reached up and tapped the communicator. “In position, Central Command. Ready for transport.”
It was clear they’d been waiting for the signal—which they had since Lauren had managed to contact them and notify them that she was pretty certain she’d been poisoned.
“Initializing. Hold on.” There was a significant pause. “There is a second … person on the pad.”
“Yes. He is coming with me.”
Another lengthy pause. “Should I summon security?”
“Negative. He is a welcome guest.”
She barely got the last word out when the beam hit them. She heard Rama’s startled gasp, but he didn’t move when he could have and neither of them were able to after the process started. In point of fact, although it was damned uncomfortable, it was only seconds before total blackout.
Hearing returned before sight.
Lauren was reassured by the sounds so familiar to her.
She knew Rama wouldn’t be, though.
With the last of her strength, she reached for him, grasped his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “Welcome to Atlantis,” she murmured before the darkness reached up and grabbed her again.
“Lauren!” Rama gasped, catching her as she began to sink toward the floor.
Someone touched his arm. “We’ve got her.”
Rama stared at the man who’d spoken suspiciously. “She has been poisoned.”
The man nodded. “I’m Larry. I’m a medic. I’ve been on standby since she contacted us an hour ago. We just couldn’t get to her. We need to find out what the poison was that she ingested as soon as possible so we can neutralize it. She didn’t know. I don’t suppose you know?”
Rama was confused, felt as if he was caught up in some sort of bizarre dream. He shook his head. “Tisdan is common,” he said as the word popped into his mind.
The medic nodded again. “Thanks! We’ll check that first.”
Very reluctantly, Rama yielded to their silent insistence to remove her from his hold. She was immediately carried away and placed on a very strange looking bed. They pulled off the sheet he had wrapped her in and dragged another sheet over her. The man turned back to look at Rama as the bed carrying Lauren started walking off as if it was a living thing when he had thought it was merely a strange bed. “You’re welcome to come with us to the treatment room.”
Rama glanced around the room he had found himself in and then followed without a word.
It comforted him that they were rushing—but seemed purposeful.
Lauren had believed they could save her. He had to trust that they could.
For he could do nothi
ng more for her.
Feeling the fury and frustration of being completely helpless, he moved out of the way as more people rushed in to surround Lauren. They hurried along beside the walking bed until it went through an open doorway and into a tiny room filled with all sorts of things that were a complete mystery to Rama.
After simply standing in the doorway for several minutes, he moved inside. Finding a place where he could watch what was happening, he folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall behind him.
Someone arrived in a great hurry carrying a tiny basket-like thing that had vials similar to those Lauren had brought with her. These were somewhat larger and tinkled as the female walked and they rattled against each other. She set the basket down on a table with wheels when she neared the bed where Lauren lay and picked up what appeared to be a needle, although it was attached to a strangely shaped vial.
Before he could object, she stabbed it into Lauren’s arm and …. Well, she used the vial to capture the blood spilling from the wound she’d made. When she’d filled it with bright red liquid, she pulled the needle out and rubbed the spot. Then she placed the vial in with the others and took off out the door.
It was just as well, Rama thought wryly, that he was too weak at the moment to do anything rash—because he was tempted to throttle the bitch that had stabbed Lauren.
At the same time, as confusing and unnerving as he found all of the activity, Lauren believed in them, believed they could save her.
He was going to kill the lot of them with his bare hands if her faith was misplaced!
Hours passed. Rama had gone far beyond strength and was running on willpower alone by the time the male who had called himself Larry approached him. “Well, we have her stabilized. We’ve done all we can for the moment. We’ll have to wait now.”
Rama thought he would have choked the life out of the bastard if he’d been in any condition to do so. He’d fought a battle, however, and although he was relatively unscathed—meaning he had not sustained life threatening wounds, he was battered and sore from it, and exhausted from the frantic ride back.
The Nine Realms of the Uti I: Warrior Prince Page 12