She had sat motionlessly until they were well within range. Due to her injuries she couldn't do much more than sit in the corner and kick at them with her good leg. Cat, who had met them halfway, was already subdued and being tied up. The big bravo didn't have the strength to resist them.
"Don't be a fool," Sergeant Ingrid said, jaw clenched tightly. "Give up now before we're forced to hurt you even more."
"Maybe I like pain, bitch," Danica said.
The Sergeant growled low in her throat, then ordered everyone back a step. Danica watched her warily as she stepped forward alone, body crouched and ready. Waiting until she was close enough to spit on, Danica tried to drive her heel into Ingrid's shin. But she proved too slow. Her foot was batted aside, then seized. Ingrid latched on with both hands and dragged her away from the wall, where six other guards pounced upon her. The beating that ensued was one of the worst of her stay.
"You bitches are getting a bit frustrated, huh?" Danica taunted through swollen lips as her wrists were bound behind her back, her voice cracking with pain.
That earned her a kick in the ribs.
"For once let them be," Cat said, standing near the door. Her hands were also bound behind her body, with a guard holding each arm tightly.
"You're too practical," Danica said, but ceased her struggles. Laying her head down on the cold stone floor, she whispered, "No fun at all."
"No honor in being beaten to death while helpless in chains," Cat said, hoping to incite Danica's knightly pride.
Danica snort, but didn't bother to lift her head. The Amazon guards looked relieved. At a signal from Ingrid, the guards pulled Danica to her feet and half-dragged the two of them out of the cell.
Danica and Cat were taken to the torture chamber, and forced to their knees. Not that either had the strength to stand. Duchess Natasha waited with Dame Alexandra, Dame Agatha, and a small detachment of what appeared to be mercenaries. The mercenaries were decked out in green and black uniforms. The look of shock and disgust on the face of the mercenaries' leader brought a grimace to Danica's face.
Dame Falen was an attractive, but hard-faced woman with long, dark hair held up in a ponytail high on the back of her head by a thick silver ring. Her face showed all the intense arrogance knights, whether Amazon or otherwise, were known for. Danica also thought she noted a ruthlessness there, a mean streak. Her brilliant green eyes were the same shade as her silk shirt and leather pants. The sword she carried had a well-worn hilt and rode low on her right hip. Left-handed, Danica's warrior's mind told her. A forest green cuirass with elaborate giltwork trim, black cloak, and black thigh boots with silver spurs finished out her uniform.
"Don't blame us," Danica said as straight-faced as possible. "We wanted to primp a bit first, but they wouldn't let us."
"What is this?" Dame Falen demanded. Danica noticed Natasha's grimace, though barely touching her haughty demeanor. "I can't take them back to Dahlys like this! They'll be lucky to survive the day on horseback."
"How touching," Danica said. Looking at Cat, "She cares."
Dame Falen stepped forward and with a growl, backhanded Danica. Hitting the floor, Danica lay still while the knight vented her rage.
"Silence! If I want to hear anything from you, I'll beat it out of you," she said. Turning back to Duchess Natasha, "Explain yourself, my Lady."
Danica, struggling back to her knees, smiled broadly at Natasha and Alexandra. Natasha's jaw was working while her eyes blazed in barely controlled rage. A noble born, Danica knew exactly what she felt, what she was thinking. Having someone of lower station demanding something from her was almost more than she could take.
"Don't say a thing," Cat whispered, noticing the mischievous glint in Danica's eyes.
With a guilty look, Danica nodded agreement and held her tongue. She had caused Cat too much pain and misery. Idly she wondered if being turned into a woman had melted away her usually strong self-discipline, or was it just a need to strike back from her helpless position? A need to prove to herself she could still hurt her tormentors.
Dame Alexandra stepped forward, "You overstep yourself, Dame Falen." She gave the Amazon knight a level, almost haughty, look. "And you jump to conclusions. I have been amusing myself with the prisoners, tormenting them, if you will. However, they aren't really hurt that badly. A few scrapes and bruises is all."
Drawing a rune in the air, that seemed to glow, and speaking some strange Word of Power, Dame Alexandra sent a surge through both Danica and Cat. The feeling wasn't unlike being hit in the funny bone, only it reverberated throughout their entire bodies. Danica heard a collective gasp from everyone. Amazingly, she found all her serious pains and injuries gone. And Cat's, too.
Dame Falen looked at Dame Alexandra warily. Danica and Cat exchanged surprised glances that turned into smiles. Danica was especially happy, since she had considered herself crippled for what was left of her miserable life. Crippled beyond any consideration of escaping.
"I was not aware you were such a powerful sorceress," Dame Falen said. She looked at the restored prisoners, and then more warily at the Vikon. "My mistress said you were only a witch."
Shrugging, Alexandra said, "I am only a witch."
"But..." Falen started.
Duchess Natasha said sternly, "It was all an illusion. A glamour spell gave them the appearance of being horribly mauled. Another spell kept the appropriate wounds screaming in pain." Alexandra smiled with malicious delight at Danica's outraged gasp. "We were well aware of High Mage Rebecca's interest in the prisoners, and Alexandra was more than a little careful."
Magic! Vile, corrupt magic! Danica glowered at Alexandra.
Looking Cat over, Danica scowled at the bloodless and needless bandages that had once been her shirt. Cat's shirt was likewise wasted on her own non-existent wounds. Then the memories of their torments came flooding back. Oh, how that black-hearted witch must've been giddy with power and malicious glee at their struggles, cries, and strangled screams of agony. The thought of the show they must have put on was humiliating.
Dame Falen, looking abashed, nodded and motioned to her troops. She said to her prisoners, "Your wish is coming true, ladies. I'm going to take you to my mistress, High Mage Rebecca. There you will find Monique, just before you die."
The mercenaries seized Danica and Cat quickly. Danica mused that they seemed to anticipate a struggle. Natasha's guards must have warned them. Only Danica had no intention of struggling just then. They were taking her in a direction she wanted to go. To Dahlys and out of Castle Taanur.
She enjoyed the stupid looks of surprise on the Castle Taanur guards as she and Cat were led away without so much as a defiant insult or threat. Cat simply looked relieved.
Danica and Cat were quickly pushed through the castle and out the front door. The remainder of the mercenary troop of dragoons waited in the bailey, all decked out in the green and black of Dame Falen's Puma Troop. The round shields hanging on the left flank of their mounts were dark green with a leaping puma centered in light green. The dragoons were mostly engaged in watering their mounts or talking with groups of Duchess Natasha's guards. The arrival of Danica and Cat was barely noticed. They had escorted much more powerful prisoners than two foreign misfits.
Two horses waited for them right outside the door. They were led straight to them, where the Sergeant in charge ordered them tied into the saddles. Danica was lifted bodily into the saddle without struggle or complaint. Her ankles lashed to the stirrups. Then they cut her wrists free and started tying them to the saddle horn. Danica was too busy sizing up the troop as a whole to pay them much attention.
Cat proved to be uncooperative, just relaxing and becoming limp when they tried to lift her into the saddle. Danica, seeing this, smiled. The troopers looked comical trying to lift her limp form up.
Shaking loose of their hands, "Gods! If you can't lift me up, then let me do it myself."
She gave them all an exasperated look.
The Sergeant frowne
d, and drew her knife. She cut Cat's wrists free, then placed the tip of the knife at her throat.
"Don't be trying anything stupid, prisoner," the thick-bodied, blonde Sergeant said.
Cat turned to look her in the eye, "That is the last thing I intend to do, Sergeant."
Pulling the knife away, "Good. Mount up and grab the pommel."
Cat smiled, made to reach for the saddle, then drove her heel brutally into the Sergeant's foot. She grabbed the Sergeant's sword and pulled it free in one motion. Kicking away the two closest troopers, she thrust the sword's tip into the shoulder of another. The troopers all jumped back defensively, pulling their blades. Cat sprung up into the saddle, turned to Danica, and brought the sharp edge of the sword down on Danica's pommel. Cutting her wrists free.
"Ride!" Cat cried and started kicking her horse into a run.
While Cat raced straight for the gate, Danica charged into the largest group of mounts. Scattering them, she turned and rammed, side-swiped, and otherwise startled any horse with a rider. Then whooping joyfully, Danica followed Cat out the castle gate. Castle guards and mercenary troopers scrambled everywhere. Half the horses followed them out the gate, riderless, with most of the rest too skittish to mount. An alarm bell rang in the gate tower, while the women shouted and cursed. Danica laughed.
"You surprise me sometimes, Cat!" Danica yelled as she pulled alongside her. Cat grinned.
"We haven't escaped yet," Cat said, turning her attention to the crowded late afternoon street.
Amazons scattered before them. Outraged screams and threats followed their journey through Celia. Letting the horses chose their own path through the crowded streets, they made for the closest city gate. They found it open, with the guards staring toward the castle. Too late they realized Danica and Cat were the reason for the uproar.
Danica altered course just enough to scatter them as well before shooting out the gate behind Cat. They sped down the road, casting frequent glances back for signs of pursuit. Dame Falen didn't seem the type to give up easily.
* * * * *
The sleek blue-plumed warhawk beat at a strong pace, veering slightly left toward Castle Taanur at a brusque command. Knowing that within minutes she would take possession of Danica as a prisoner, Maeve brooded astride the bird and toyed idly with the silver clasp of her woolen cloak. She doubted Danica would survive long in Ayesha's ruthless hands.
Noting the warhawk was again trying to turn toward the familiar sight of the mews, "I said go to the bloody castle!"
With a roar of frustration, the warhawk turned his full attention on the castle. Maeve smiled ruefully, understanding his frustration all too well. She wondered if he felt the same sense of helplessness she did at her own inability to control her destiny.
Maeve's self-pitying thoughts were soon interrupted by a scene of chaos in the castle's bailey. Two distinct groups of soldiers raced about, waving their arms and arguing with each other. Others tried to calm agitated horses. Maeve shook her head, knowing only Danica could have created this situation.
A tightness suddenly gripped Maeve's heart. If Danica escaped, Ayesha would never believe she was without fault. Her mistress would blame her for taking too long, or some other trivial infraction. Ayesha was only too aware of Maeve's feelings for Danica, and believed it had something to do with her failure to capture the elfmaid to date. Maeve knew better, but wasn't all together displeased with Danica's ability to evade capture. Only her geas would not allow her to disobey her orders or otherwise give Danica the time or means to escape.
"Ayesha will cut my heart out if I don't bring Danica back this time," Maeve muttered.
She shuddered at the memory of Ayesha's outrage at learning Maeve originally headed toward Dahlys. Maeve knew High Mage Rebecca held Monique in Dahlys, so she planned to setup a trap and capture Danica as she attempted Monique's rescue. Unfortunately, if she’d flown straight to Celia, Maeve would even now be on her way to Allaria with Danica bound to her saddle. Maeve was afraid to even think about what her mistress would do if Danica had escape in the time it took her to reach Celia.
Driving those troubling thoughts away, she said in a loud commanding voice, "Bird, land on the castle walls to the right of the gatehouse."
Within seconds Maeve landed amid a thunder of wings and roars. Her touch down only succeeded in sending most of the horses below into renewed hysteria. Everywhere, soldiers pulled swords or bows. Maeve knew she looked more like a warrior than a powerful sorceress, so she recited a quick defensive ward that left her momentarily aglow with visible energies. When everyone below froze, staring up at her, she glared arrogantly down at them.
Raising her hand in greeting, Maeve called down the Amazon greeting, "Peace be with you! I am Sorceress Maeve!"
Her only response were curt nods. Maeve frowned.
"Who is in charge here?" she said, eyes narrowing.
A big, strong looking knight stepped forward, "Who wants to know? Declare yourself!"
"I am an agent of High Mage Ayesha of Allaria. Is that good enough for you?"
A Vikon witch in pink and red clothes and armor then stepped forward, shouting, "How do we know you aren't lying? Can you prove yourself?"
Ayesha informed her of the witch. Maeve fought to keep her contempt hidden. Though a Vikon Princess, Alexandra was an eager traitor to her family and people, the most vile creature Maeve could possibly imagine. So, since Ayesha could care less about the fate of some mere witch, Alexandra had best be careful around her. Ally or not.
Maeve shifted to mage sight, to evaluate the witch's wards. Her wards looked tightly woven, and strong for a mere witch. At first Maeve thought she might be a minor mage, but determined her spells were only the work of a very talented witch. If she ever did learn the High Arts, Alexandra would could very well become a High Sorceress. No one else in the group possessed either talismans or other wards.
Maeve spoke a Word of Power. A bright white rose burned in the air before her for an instant, providing the women below the recognized pass-sign. The green-clad soldiers instantly relaxed, though the rest only fidgeted while casting glances at the group standing with the Vikon.
The Vikon whispered something to an attractive young women. She is Duchess Natasha, no doubt. Maeve took in her confident stance. She figured the witch was telling her mistress that the new arrival was a powerful sorceress. A women to be reckoned with. Maeve smiled, straightening her back and raising her chin.
The dark-haired Duchess stepped forward, beckoning Maeve down and giving the traditional Tyrian greeting.
"Tschüss! Please join us, Sorceress Maeve. I am Duchess Natasha of Taanur."
With just a word from Maeve, her warhawk glided down to a point before the Duchess. She quickly dismounted and strode up the steps to join the Duchess and her group. The gathering before the door seemed evenly divided between Natasha's knights and officers of the mercenary troop Ayesha warned her about. If there were anyone who might argue Maeve's right to Danica, the mercenaries were the women who would do it.
Duchess Natasha gave Maeve a calculating look as she approached. Maeve could almost hear her devious mind working, trying to come up with a way to gain some advantage from the situation. Maybe even embarrass High Mage Rebecca and her agents, while making herself appear more favorable to Ayesha. Everyone else just looked agitated, and a few looked distinctly uncomfortably and worried.
"What is going on here?" Maeve said, careful to hide any fear or doubt in her stance or voice. "I pray you haven't lost your prisoners. Our mistress will be most displeased."
"I didn't lose them," Duchess Natasha said. "I turned them over to Dame Falen here, and she promptly let them escape."
"I had nothing to do with it! They escaped from your castle, my Lady," Dame Falen said.
"You had possession, Captain. Don't try to wiggle out of your responsibility," Dame Agatha said.
That brought a chorus of shouted accusations and denials from both sides. Maeve just watched them as her w
orld began falling apart. It didn't matter who was at fault, Ayesha would ultimately blame her for their escape. In Ayesha's eyes, Maeve was always at fault.
"Shut up! All of you," Maeve snapped. "How long ago did they escape?"
"Just a few minutes ago," Dame Alexandra said. She let a contemptuous sneer creep onto her face. "We would even now be in pursuit if you hadn't set the mounts off again by your ill-timed out arrival."
Maeve turned baleful blue eyes on the pretty Vikon Princess.
"Be wary, witch," Maeve said almost too quietly.
Alexandra snorted contemptuously.
Maeve's attack was instantaneous. Her sorcery tore through Alexandra's witchcraft wards like a dragon through underbrush. Alexandra wailed in pain and fell to the ground convulsing. Maintaining the spells that inflamed every fiber of the witch's being, Maeve stepped beside her and place a hand on Alexandra's exposed neck. Releasing Alexandra from her attack, Maeve spoke another Word of Power.
Dame Alexandra gasped and clawed at the cobbles as Maeve started to suck away not just her life energy, but her very life. First Maeve looted the energies Alexandra stored for her magicks, then started sucking away the energies that kept her alive.
"Stop!" Duchess Natasha cried. "You're killing her!"
Maeve jerked her hand away, grinding her teeth at being thwart yet again. Alexandra lay at her feet, unconscious and barely alive. Another couple seconds and she would have been dead by Maeve's hand.
Ayesha would have loved that, Maeve thought, smiling darkly. Ayesha despised witches of all stripes. Especially the Vikon.
"Are you crazy? She's on our side," Duchess Natasha said as she knelt beside the witch. Then turned accusing eyes on Maeve, "Is this how High Mage Ayesha rewards loyal service? She will hear of this outrage."
"Yes, she will, my Lady," Maeve said in a level tone. Duchess Natasha's threat didn't worry her. Indeed, it might endear her to the High Mage. Maeve already knew the ultimate fate of the Vikon people — Death. Ayesha's vision had no place for Vikon witches, loyal followers or not. The Vikon were all servants of Maag, their Queen being a High Priestess of the Goddess. "I reckon she will be most interested in how you let your prisoners escape. My own experience tells me she will blame all of you."
Into Lands Forbidden (The Elfmaid Trilogy Book 2) Page 10