Captain Reynaldo had observed my paroxysm with a dispassionate, almost scientific interest, holding my dagger in his fist, the prism covered. “My father taught me that trick,” he said in a conversational tone. “He did that to my mother, so she’d know who was master, even without crypta. And it worked.”
I dared to take a deep breath, which made me gag, leaning over the side of my horse and retching up the remains of my breakfast onto the trail and the folds of my dress.
“Until she killed herself,” Reynaldo said. He stuck the dagger through his belt, concealing the handle under the skirt of his leather coat.
Despite my own pain, I felt sympathy for the horror of some poor kidnapped noblewoman, at the mercy of Reynaldo’s father, left to her fate, not rescued by her family. Suicide is a ‘Gravina’s duty when honor and hope are gone. If all else failed it would be up to me to liberate myself in the same way, by choosing death. There was screaming in the background, what I assumed was my own voice, not aloud, but in my head, my mind’s expression of grief at the decision I might be forced to make.
I was too weak to talk and I must have lost my mental shield during my ordeal, because Reynaldo also picked up my bleak question: What makes you think I, too, won’t kill myself? and replied to it.
“This,” he said. Reynaldo held my son up in front of me, shaking him to make him cry, although Val was already wailing with all the force his little lungs could muster, windmilling his arms and kicking his legs in his attempts to free himself.
“Mama!” Val cried. “MAMA, MAAAAA MAAAAAAA!” until it wasn’t words, just the pure sound of fear made real. That was what I had been hearing, all the time I fought for life and breath—my son watching his mother being tortured.
“Gi’m t’me!” I said. My voice wouldn’t work yet. I coughed and tried again. “Give my son to me!”
“What will you do for me in return?” Reynaldo said. He held Val in one hand and smacked his face with open palm. Val, who had known nothing but the most indulgent tenderness his entire life, gasped until he choked, then let out another howl of outrage.
“Anything,” I said, hating myself, hating the man for making me crawl.
Reynaldo dared to come a little closer, while keeping Val just out of reach. “Listen carefully, little lady,” he said. “You will not use your gift against me, or any of my men. Do you understand?”
I nodded my head, but that wasn’t good enough. Reynaldo slapped Val again, harder this time, and my son made a sound like a dying rabbit in a snare. “Say it. Say, ‘Yes, Captain Reynaldo, I promise not to use my gift against you.’ ”
I repeated the words, thinking slow death to him, imagining gangrene moving up his body, from feet to legs to belly, of cancer eating at his colon, and last and best, of Dominic taking his revenge, as only Dominic would know how, so that Reynaldo would be the one to crawl, begging to be put down like a sick dog, until he would be unable to do anything but writhe in agonizing pain.
As I said the words, Reynaldo handed Val to me. The man knew my thoughts that I was still too weak to shield. “You may think all you like,” he said, smiling with false magnanimity. “But remember, if you try to make any of those kind thoughts real, I will know, and I will take the boy and deliver him to his father, piece by piece.”
I held Val tightly to my chest, rocking him, kissing his tear-streaked face and stroking the bright red hair. In his fright he had wet and soiled himself. “My brave boy. It’s all right now. I won’t let him touch you again.” I could only lie to my son. Although his own crypta was not yet fully active, he could, like any young sentient being, detect his mother’s fear, but I did not know what else to do. The truth, that I was powerless to protect the person dearest to me in the world, was too terrible to express.
Reynaldo watched the mother-son reunion with a gloating look. He had us now, exactly where he wanted us. He was ready to take the third part of his prize, and checked to make sure she was still where he had last seen her.
Jana had sat quietly on her pony all this time, rigid with fear but with a self-control that most adults would envy. The bandit captain extended an eager hand, holding her cheeks together tightly in what must be a painful pincer grip. Jana didn’t flinch or cry out as the man studied her face.
“Margrave Aranyi sired one true foal,” he said.
The resemblance between father and daughter that blazed in Jana’s proud face was unmistakable. She has dark brown hair like Dominic’s, almost black, rare for ‘Graven, and her nose was changing from the soft blob of childhood, becoming narrow and prominent like Dominic’s aquiline beak. Her eyes, even without their third eyelids lowered, are a similar cold, pale gray; today, in the late-morning sunlight and with the terrible events unfolding, her eyes shone as bright and metallic as mine and Reynaldo’s—and her father’s. Dominic, with his distinctive looks, his height and his hawk-like profile, is a universally-recognized figure throughout the ‘Graven Realms; in the north, his own territory, he is like an avatar of ‘Graven power. No one who had seen Dominic could look at this little copy and fail to be reminded of the man.
Foolishly I intervened. “She’s only a girl,” I said, hoping to spare one of my children. “Margrave Aranyi won’t pay ransom for a girl.”
The lie was monstrous, absurd. Already the household knew Jana was Dominic’s heir in some intangible way that Val could never be. “Lady Jana,” everybody called her. That was her title, technically, although rarely used until one was an adult. The Aranyi guards all loved her, finding in the child something of the qualities that inspired their devotion to her father. But there was no reason for a bandit to know any of this.
Apparently the fact was as obvious as Jana’s Aranyi lineage. The terrible laugh sounded again. “Margrave Aranyi will pay for this girl,” Reynaldo said. “He’ll pay more for this girl than for a runaway wife and a little sissy boy.”
The bandit leader motioned to one of his men who stood close beside him, and the man jumped eagerly into the saddle of a guard’s horse. He reached to lift Jana off her pony and seat her in front of him, but Jana shook her head. She was tall for her age, and strong, rarely growing so tired on a journey that she could be coaxed to share another’s mount. “I can ride by myself,” she informed her abductor, with immense and touching dignity.
Reynaldo chuckled with appreciation. “So you can,” he said. “So you will.” He gestured to his man, who let her go. “Easier to have a rider than to lead it,” he said of the pony.
He turned his attention at last to the rest of the group. His men were at the limit of their restraint, ready for the pleasure of stripping and raping and killing. I could feel the waves of excitement running through them as they prepared for the quick release of tension. They had stalked their prey carefully and were beginning to imagine the sweet taste of success from their coordinated and difficult undertaking. They had earned a reward, and their leader was going to give it to them.
I was shaky from my own physical suffering and my fear, but I knew I could not leave Isobel and Katrina, women who had been part of my family for six years, to such a fate. My life as ‘Gravina Aranyi, responsible for the domestic side of a ‘Graven household, had changed me from the Terran woman who would have rationalized any decision to save myself and my children and abandon others. Apart from any sympathy I might feel for the women, it was the thought of living with this dishonor, the shame that would shadow me for the rest of my life, tainting Dominic and his companions and the children, which made it impossible.
“Please, Captain Reynaldo,” I said in an obsequious, fawning voice. It made me sick all over again to hear myself, but I was desperate and did not know any other way. “If you spare my women, my husband will be generous. But if you harm them, he will doubt your good faith. He will think you mean only to kill us, and entrap him.”
Dominic would suspect that anyway, no matter what was done to the women, but I could shield my thoughts a little now with my slight returning strength. If I could convince Re
ynaldo not to harm the women, it might be a hopeful sign, that ransom, not torture or murder, was the real as well as the professed goal.
The bandit leader was smart, if unstable. His intelligence was apparent in his every thought, along with the insanity that growing up with his untrained gift, motherless among outlaws, had inevitably produced. My words made sense to him, but he must have his fun with me before giving in.
“And the men?” Reynaldo asked. “What will your lord husband think if we spare them?” He signaled to the bandits who had been holding our guards down all this time, and they increased the pressure on vulnerable throats. The guards struggled, clawing at the booted feet and scrabbling on the ground with frantic hands. “Won’t he think we are weak?”
My mind, too, worked frantically to know what answer would make any impression. Bad enough to get Wilmos, an Aranyi man, killed by my misadventure. To cause the death of men from another household, borrowed from a relatively poor young neighbor, was unbearably disgraceful. Necessity inspired me. “He will think you are very clever,” I said, “to take wife and children without a fight. Margrave Aranyi will know not to attempt a rescue, that he is up against a worthy opponent.” How I hated comparing Dominic in any way to this crazy piece of filth. But it paid off.
Reynaldo was pleased with the suggestion. He raised a hand in an imperious gesture, shouted a command. “Release the guards.” His men muttered in protest, but Reynaldo was in no mood for mutiny. He stalked over to the nearest man, pushed him off balance so that he stumbled, releasing a guard, who rose only as far as hands and knees, unable or afraid to stand. Reynaldo did something with his crypta to the disobedient bandit and the man yelped with pain. The other three quickly released their prisoners. There were coughs and whooping sounds as the four guards eased their bruised throats and drew in their first free breaths.
Reynaldo decided his men needed a warning. “You saw what I did to the ‘Gravina,” he said. “That is nothing to what I can do to any of you.” He stared at the bandit whom he had pushed, and the man slunk away toward the forest. Reynaldo smiled. “We will all have our reward, in time. Let them go, naked, back to Margrave Aranyi. Let him see our power.” He paused, drinking in the pleasure of anticipation. “We will have riches to buy all the women we please, soon enough. And men, if you prefer.” He laughed, kicking at a guard, a handsome young man who knelt in an unconsciously suggestive pose in the road as he got his breath back.
The bandits were still restless, but too afraid of their leader to disobey. Reynaldo stepped over to Katrina. She and Isobel sat their horses quietly, close together, heads down as if they were praying. “We’ll have a look at least,” Reynaldo said. “Come on, bitch, undress yourself, or my men will help you, but let’s have the clothes. My own Michaela will screech like a banshee if I bring her nothing but mouths to feed.”
He snapped his fingers and two men came over and pulled Katrina and Isobel off their horses. Isobel cried out with pain, holding one arm in the other, cradling what looked like a broken wrist. She had fought Reynaldo before giving up Val to him. The women undressed themselves down to their shifts, weeping silently from shame. Katrina had to help Isobel remove her boots. The nearest bandits snatched the clothes out of their hands as they came off, cloaks, dresses and petticoats, boots and stockings, to give to their own women. I watched, helpless. I could only hope I had spared my women’s lives at least.
“Hurry up,” Reynaldo said. “We’ve wasted enough time on all your ‘Graven modesty.” He pulled at Katrina’s shift until it tore, slapped her face. I saw that violence excited him, that he would forget any reluctant promise he had made if she resisted.
“Katrina,” I said, “take your shift off. Captain Reynaldo has promised not to hurt you.”
My voice cut through the incipient mood of rape. Reynaldo blinked and took his hand away from the woman. Katrina and Isobel removed their shifts, which quickly went the way of their outer clothes. Underneath they wore the linen knickers, as Jana and I did, that protect our thighs from chafing while riding astride. Dominic considers sidesaddles an insult to good horsemanship, and does not permit me or the household women to use them except when pregnant or unwell.
The bandits had never seen anything like these garments, and made many humorous comments about sexual relations in ‘Graven households. “Women in breeches!” Reynaldo shouted. I could sense the mix of delight and disgust at what he and the others could interpret only as unimaginable perversion. “Why don’t your men wear skirts?” He didn’t expect an answer. “We might as well take the breeches too. But where I am master my women will not wear them.” He waited while Katrina and Isobel peeled them off, and the two bandit recipients waved their strange trophies in the air, shouting lewd remarks.
The rest of the men ogled the naked women, laughing and pointing, making loud suggestions of what they would like to do. But they did none of it, and stood off as Reynaldo had commanded.
Then it was the turn of the guards. They had already lost their weapons, had little shame to spare for their bodies. They stripped silently and efficiently. When they were done, the four men and two women stood completely naked, hugging themselves or standing listlessly at the side of the trail. I caught the eye of Isobel, who despite her injury seemed to have more wits about her than the rest. “Head for the Ladakh place, up the trail,” I said, pointing. “They can send a message to Margrave Aranyi.”
Reynaldo had mounted the lead guard’s well-fed stallion and cantered over to me. “That’s enough, little lady,” he said. “I’ve done what you asked. Now you’re mine. And my women don’t speak unless I ask them a question.” He grinned at the thought of what he had accomplished and grabbed the bridle of my mare, which lurched forward, glad to be moving again. I had my arms full holding Val, and in my weakened state nearly fell off. There was no way I could ride and hold him, but I would die before I’d hand him over to one of these murderers. I hung on grimly to Val with one hand, the front of the saddle with the other, and waited to drop into the mud.
My captor noticed my wobbly condition. He had the sensitivity of the gifted and was taking pride in ownership, trying to care for his new possessions in the haphazard way of a child with a puppy, alert to certain realities when it suited him. He searched the side of the trail, found the carrying pack Isobel had taken off, and thrust it at me. “Put it on,” he said. When I didn’t maneuver Val and my arms through the tangle of straps quickly enough he helped, roughly, saying, “You will learn I like instant obedience.”
Reynaldo raised his hand to slap me, and I stared him down. Go ahead, I thought at him. If he hit me, I would fall off, with Val. Then he would have to get me up and in the saddle again, assuming we were not injured, and it would lead to more crying and delays. Thwarted, he clenched his fist, then raised his arm to his men in the signal to move out.
His men went back into the forest, reappearing in a short time with their own mounts, scrawny, beaten nags, but better than walking. A lucky few were allowed to ride the horses appropriated from the guards and the women. They would lead their own animals, and our one pack animal with our meager baggage. Captain Reynaldo held on to the bridle of my horse to keep me close to him, until all the men were assembled. A second man held Jana’s pony, and when all was ready we set off, back on the trail in the direction we had come.
A few yards along there was a narrow cut in the embankment, hard to see if one were not looking for it. Single file we plodded into it, riding steeply uphill, curving around back and forth to climb the mountain, moving obliquely but steadily toward the frontier of civilized territory.
CHAPTER 2
The hellish ride seemed to last forever. I was near the limit of my endurance when it began, from fear and from what Reynaldo had done to me by taking my prism. My only chance to replenish my strength would have been the daily solar eclipse but, in the way of these things, today was the end of the backwards cycle; the eclipse had come and gone early in the morning. Tomorrow, if I lived to see i
t, we would have two. But for now I must manage on my own.
We had been visiting Stefan Ormonde, Dominic’s former companion, for the naming-day ceremony of his first child. Stefan had been Dominic’s lover when we married, and had lived with us for almost four years before leaving to marry and set up his own household. I had watched him grow from a small, shy boy of sixteen into a confident young husband and father. When the invitation came to Dominic and me to act as godparents, it encompassed our whole family, in typical Eclipsian fashion: our children; Dominic’s current companion, Niall Galloway; Isobel to help with Val; and my maid, Katrina. We were to spend a week or two celebrating the happy occasion.
Toward the end of our stay, ‘Graven Assembly had sent an urgent message for Dominic, requiring his immediate presence for an emergency session. Dominic and Niall had had to set off at once. It would take two full days to reach Eclipsia City, even for men traveling light. There was no time to make the slow detour to escort wife and family back to Aranyi. Dominic told me to wait at Stefan’s small manor for his return, not to go home without his protection. The thought that I would actually disobey him on such a specific point was so far from his mind he had not emphasized it.
I had intended to wait, of course. Only my increasing jealousy, the hurt of seeing Dominic with a woman, had driven me to act in this stupid fashion. Dominic is vir: he loves men. I am the only woman he has ever loved. He had told me so, often enough that I had come to believe him. Now I knew the truth. Stefan had not been the only former lover of Dominic’s at this little gathering. And while I had suffered in silence during our family’s visit, I would not spend one more night than was absolutely necessary under the same roof with this Lady Melanie Ndoko.
Stefan and Drusilla had pleaded with me all day yesterday as I rounded up the children’s clothes and our belongings and set Katrina and Isobel to packing, but I had been implacable. This morning, when they saw I would go no matter what, Stefan had insisted I take three of his guards with me, the only men he could spare. I had not thought we would face any serious danger, was sure Dominic’s reputation as a swordsman and as Commander General of the ‘Graven Coalition was such that, as ‘Gravina Aranyi, I could travel naked from one end of the Realms to the other without fearing anything worse than goose bumps should I be crazy enough to try it. By that time, I almost was.
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