He stared at her as if the words were foreign to him, but took the waterskin. "I’ve never had to wash before," he complained, as he uncapped the skin and poured some water into his cupped hand.
"Well, you’ll wash now," she told him, then helped him by gently rubbing some water across his small face. He winced as her fingers touched at the bruises and she drew back. "Did your master beat you a lot?"
Magus averted his gaze. "I’m…not…very well behaved," he mumbled.
"Nonsense!" Diesa retorted, handing him the food. "Your behavior had nothing to do with it. Some people just like to attack those smaller than they are. It gives them a sense of power when in actuality it is a show of their weakness."
He glanced up at her. "You said you weren’t a runaway. Are you a freeman?"
"Not exactly." Diesa shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, then blurted the truth. "No. No I am not. I am a slave, same as you. I happen to be in better circumstances than you are. My master does not beat me, nor does he starve me. He is actually quite generous."
"Then why did you run away?" Magus asked incredulously.
"I—I—" She sagged with a sigh. "I don’t know. Magus," she took his arm gently, "I’m going back. I’m taking you to my master."
His blue eyes went wide. "No! He’ll just return me to my master! No!"
"No, Magus, he won’t!" She tightened her grip to keep him from bolting. "I promise you that much. Scanlon is…very kind to his slaves. Very understanding. I have seen him rescue another from a brutal master. He provides well for his slaves. All that he asks in return is respect."
"But slaves cost money," Magus said. "What if he doesn’t want to spend the money on me? What then? I would rather die than return to my master! I won’t let him…" His words dissolved into tears, then into great, gut-wrenching sobs.
Diesa gathered him close, her heart breaking. She had no doubts what the little boy’s master had done to him. She could feel his terror and humiliation as he clung to her. It hardened her resolve to get him to Scanlon and a place of peace no matter the cost to her.
"You don’t have to worry anymore, Magus," she soothed. "You’ll have a home, a real home. Scanlon will take you in, I know it. And he has the money to buy any number of slaves. He’s a prince, Magus, an elfin prince."
Magus looked up at her through reddened eyes. "A prince?" His voice held true awe.
She smiled and ruffled his dirty hair. "Aye. A beautiful, kind prince." She sighed and guided him to Pearl. "And the sooner we’re on the trail, the sooner we’ll be home." She lifted him astride, then swung up behind him, once more letting Pearl have her head
"Does this horse know where she’s going?" Magus asked, surprised.
"Aye. Her one true love is at the stables. She would always return there, no matter what." Like me, she added mentally.
::So you’ll come back then?:: Scanlon’s voice came into her mind, startling her so badly that Magus noticed.
"What’s wrong?" he asked.
"Nothing. It’s nothing," she reassured him, then directed her attention to Scanlon. ::M’lord, I … I was wrong. I acted in haste, without thinking.::
There was a long pause before he answered. ::As did I, Diesa. When you return, we shall talk.::
She sighed. ::Yes, M’lord.:: She glanced down at Magus’ blonde head. ::M’lord, I have a favor to ask.::
::A favor?:: His tone seemed slightly amused.
::I know it’s not my place to ask, but …Well, I found a runaway—::
::Another besides yourself then?:: he interrupted.
Diesa stiffened, her old anger flashing through her, but she clenched her jaw and replied. ::Yes. A small boy. His name is Magus. His masters are looking for him. I told him that you would help him. Please, M’lord. He’s been beaten.::
Scanlon was silent, though Diesa could feel a surge of compassion flow through the mind touch. ::You may bring him home with you. We will discuss it further.::
::No, M’lord,:: Diesa replied, slowing Pearl’s gait. ::I must know that you will not resell him. You must promise me that. Please. I am almost positive that he … that he has been raped as well, by … by his master and his master’s brothers. If you will not promise to keep him safe, then I will not return.::
There was a long pause. ::Diesa, might I point out that you are a runaway yourself? You are not in the position to bargain.::
::I don’t care!:: she shot back. ::Promise me! Or I’ll take Magus and we’ll both die here in wood. I know plenty of plants that could take our lives. Promise me.::
Again there was a long silence and when he answered, his voice was tight. ::I promise you then. I will not resell him. I will pay his master whatever he asks for the boy’s freedom. Bring him home.::
Diesa sighed with relief. ::Thank you, M’lord, thank you. We should be there by nightfall.::
::I will be waiting.::
She felt the mind touch leave her and looked down at Magus, who had once more fallen asleep. "You’ll be safe now, little one," she whispered. "You’ll be safe now."
She rode for another hour before stopping. Magus woke at once, looking at her in startlement. She smiled and slid from Pearl’s back. "Now, it’s my turn to relieve myself," she told him, then paused. "I spoke to the prince, my master—don’t ask how—and he has agreed to buy you from your former master. He will give you a home, Magus. He has promised that. And I trust him."
Magus grinned, his whole face lighting up at the prospect. "And you’ll be there as well?"
Diesa hesitated, then nodded. "I will. For a time. And you’ll meet Kittellan and Drake. You’ll like them. And they’ll love you." She laughed lightly. "You’ll be mothered to death though. If you thought of never washing before eating, you’ll soon dismiss that thought. Wait here. I’ll be right back."
She hurried off into the brush to complete her toilet. She had just finished and started back when the sound of movement through the brush reached her. She gained Pearl’s side quickly. Her thoughts went immediately to Magus’ master and his brothers. They must have returned.
She scanned her surroundings. She wasn’t that far from the edge of Scanlon’s property. Still, Pearl was small. With two astride her gait would be severely limited. And Diesa wasn’t about to let Magus fall prey to his abusers again. It was far better for her to suffer at their hands than him. "Listen, Magus," she said urgently, putting him in the saddle. "Someone is coming. You need to ride as fast as you can to Prince Scanlon’s cottage for help."
"But why don’t you just come too?"
"Because Pearl can’t outrun another horse if we’re both astride."
"Then I’ll stay with you!"
"No! You won’t! You’ll do what I say, Magus. Please!" She whirled as the sounds came closer. "Please, Magus. Get help for me!" She slapped Pearl’s rump, sending her darting for home, Magus hanging on for all he was worth.
Diesa bolted into the forest seeking a refuge where she could hide and wait. She crouched behind a large bush, reaching out with her mind for Scanlon. But in all of the time that they had been together she had never once contacted him first. Now was no exception and she was met with silence. At least, silence from him.
"Diesa!" Marsden’s voice came from behind her and she whirled in shocked disbelief. He smiled, then slammed her with a jolt of magic so fierce it sent her tumbling into darkness.
Chapter 13
* * *
Diesa’s head spun and her stomach churned with nausea as she woke. Cold, stiff and sore, she was seated on Marsden’s stallion, the elf’s arms wrapped about her. She wondered just how much magic he had hit her with and why. He noticed her wakefulness and tightened his hold on her.
"Welcome back," he said softly, his mouth close to her ear. "I’ve missed you."
Diesa grimaced and pulled away, drawing forth her anger. "What do you think you’re doing? Scanlon will be furious! Take me back!"
Marsden laughed and nuzzled against her neck. "Take you back? Why?"
"
B…because I…I belong to Scanlon. You know that."
Marsden laughed. "He bought you on a wager. Did you know that?"
Diesa said nothing, and Marsden laughed again. "And did our dear Scanlon tell you what was wagered, Diesa?" He waited, but when she said nothing, he sent another jolt of magic ripping through her.
Diesa sucked in her breath, biting her tongue to keep from crying out.
"When I ask you a question, you will answer," Marsden told her coldly.
"No," Diesa said. "No, I do not know the details of the wager, only that there was one. I heard you talking about it."
Marsden drew back, surprised. "You did? From your room?" He paused, then continued as if in revelation. "Ah. Magic, Diesa? You have magic then? Where is it?"
Diesa clenched her jaw, then gasped as he sent another wave of pain through her. He laughed.
"You are not the only one with magic, slave. And I think that my magic far out does yours. Answer my question."
"Scanlon has my magic," Diesa replied unwillingly.
"Does he?" Marsden seemed surprised yet happy with that news.
Diesa waited a moment, then asked the question that burned in her mind. "Will you tell me what the wager was then?"
"Ah, that. Perhaps I shall. Tell me one thing, Diesa, do you love him?"
The question caught Diesa by surprise. "No," she answered quickly.
"No?"
"He…he owns me. I am nothing more than his servant. Still, I think he will be very unhappy with you for not returning me."
Marsden hesitated for a long moment. "So you do not love him?" He paused again, then asked, "Has he healed you yet, Diesa? Have you lost your soul to him? Your magic, your freedom, your soul." He roared with laughter while Diesa trembled with rage. "All that was left was your heart, yet he could not gain that. Thusly, I have won the wager."
Diesa closed her eyes, remembering the words she had heard between Scanlon and Marsden—Have you won her heart? Does she love you or not? "And what was the prize?" she asked weakly.
Marsden leaned forward and nipped at her ear. "You," he breathed, and kissed her neck.
"Me?" Diesa could not contain her surprise at that. "But how could it have been? You don’t even know me. How could I possibly be the winning in a wager?"
"Easy." Marsden sat back. "If Scanlon had won, I would have been forced to free all of my slaves. If I won, I would take possession of his. I have done so. Well, at least you. The other two Scan can have. I have no like for men who do not know how to be men."
Diesa almost hit him. Her hands curled into tight fists as rage boiled through her. "They perhaps know far more about it than you do," she seethed.
She felt Marsden stiffen with anger. A second later, she was almost laid flat by his punishing sting of magic. It left her gasping, half slumped over the horse’s neck.
"So then," Marsden continued, his voice cold and calculating. "If you have magic I must assume that Scanlon can touch your mind. Well, we’ll have to make sure that doesn’t happen, won’t we?"
"What do you—" Diesa’s words caught in her throat as she was engulfed in a tight WardSpell that sent little prickles of pain dancing through her. She shifted uncomfortably.
"There now," Marsden said. "That should stop him. At least until he decodes this particular spell, then we’ll have to switch to another. This will be fun, Diesa, trying to outsmart the incredibly gifted elfin crown prince."
Diesa heard the jealousy ring in the words. "I thought you two were friends," she said.
"Oh we are," he replied. "We have to be. My father is the King’s advisor. Scan and I have known each other since we were children."
"And Amarra?" Diesa asked.
Marsden fired another slap of magic at her. "Amarra is none of your business!" he snapped, and kicked his stallion into a cantor.
The hard, jolting gait sent shock waves of pain rushing through her and she clutched at the saddle horn with both hands. "Marsden, please—" she began, then actually let out a little shriek at the jolt he sent her.
"No one gave you permission to call me by my given name!" he seethed. "I may not be a prince but I am a lord nonetheless and you will address me as such! Is that clear?"
She nodded, then winced as he punished her yet again. "Yes, M’lord," she murmured.
"That’s better. Now, what was it that you were going to beg from me?"
Rage stilled her tongue. "Nothing, M’lord, it was nothing." She would rather face the pain of the ride than the pain of groveling to him.
Still, by the time they stopped that evening, she could barely walk. Her legs were weak, her stomach more so. She collapsed onto the needle-softened ground with a low moan. Marsden eyed her critically.
"What’s wrong with you?"
"I … I don’t feel well, M’lord," she mumbled. "Perhaps the WardSpell is too strong."
He snorted. "A WardSpell never made anyone ill. That was a nice try though." He tossed his saddlepack at her feet. "I would like some dinner."
Diesa drew the pack close. "Are we camping here tonight then?"
"No. I have a desire to return to my own property. I would like to get there as soon as possible. I do have other slaves to attend to. Get busy."
Diesa willed her stomach to settle and set about preparing him a meal, going toward a small stream to hunt mushrooms. He watched her every move, reminding her of when Scanlon had done the same thing. The difference was that Scanlon had watched her almost thoughtfully, while Marsden watched her punitively, just waiting for another chance to punish her. She didn’t give him the opportunity but prepared a satisfactory meal of fresh mushrooms with cheese sauce and bits of sausage. Marsden took the plate with a wary eye.
"I am assuming, of course, that you know how to pick your mushrooms," he said.
"Of course. I am a dryad, M’lord. I know my plants." She didn’t add that she had found no poisonous plants within easy reach, though she had indeed searched.
He stabbed a mushroom and a slice of the sausage with his fork, lifted it to his mouth, then paused and held it out to her. "You first."
Diesa hesitated, eyeing the meat. "I don’t eat meat, M’lord," she said.
"Take it!" he snapped. "Or do you enjoy pain, Diesa?"
She stiffened. "No, M’lord, I do not enjoy pain." She took the fork and ate the mushroom, almost gagging at the taste of the meat with it. She handed the utensil back.
Marsden took it and grinned, then ran his tongue over it suggestively. "And for dessert, Diesa, what will you offer?"
She drew herself up rigidly. "Not what you are supposing, M’lord," she replied coldly.
He laughed. "You are right, Diesa. Not what I am supposing. At least, not now."
She glared at him. "M’lord, I would like to take this opportunity to freshen up a little in the stream. By your leave?"
"Scanlon has you trained well, doesn’t he? You know all the proper words. But they aren’t said with any sense of respect, Diesa. They are merely said." He eyed her for a long moment, then waved her away.
She turned and went back to the stream. The water was cold but fresh and she scrubbed both face and neck where his mouth had touched her. His hands on her disgusted her but to have to suffer to his kisses was revolting. She sat back on her heels and drew out the pearl. She tried again to reach for Scanlon and was rewarded with a stab of pain in her head. Marsden’s WardSpell proved strong. Still, she knew Scanlon would come for her if for nothing else than to assuage his own anger at Marsden over the loss of his child.
Her thoughts drifted to the wager. It still stung, but she had a peculiar sense of guilt of her own. If she had only allowed Scanlon the chance, he would have won her heart very early on. She thought back to the early days with him, how hard he had tried to be both master and friend. She had refused to let him be either. And yet, if she had only listened to her own heart, all of this might never have happened. Scanlon would have won, Marsden’s slaves would have been freed, and she would be with the elfin
prince now. She felt a small, sad smile turn up the corners of her mouth. Scanlon had probably never thought winning a wager of this kind would be so difficult.
She rose and as she did so her gaze fell on a plant growing near the stream. Wild thyme. She knew its properties well. It was useful as a stomach tonic, a breathing aide and a bath additive. But it was also used as a cure for too much drink and the cure was occasionally worse than the disease.
She smiled to herself and gathered it by the handfuls. This would work out very well. She returned to camp to find Marsden finished with his meal and washing it down with a few swigs from a wine bottle.
"Clean up here," he instructed. "Then we’ll be on our way."
"Yes, M’lord," she replied and quickly cleaned and packed the utensils. When she was done she handed the saddle pack to Marsden and he secured it on the horse. "Will we ride through the night, M’lord?" she asked as he lifted her into the saddle.
"Most probably," he answered, then swung up behind her, leaning close. "Unless you have other things you’d like to do."
"No!" Her vehement reply brought only laughter and Marsden kicked the stallion into motion.
They rode until early morning and by the time they stopped Diesa was exhausted. It was almost more than she could do to slide from the stallion’s back. Marsden tossed her a blanket and she curled up in it, falling at once into restless slumber. Twice she thought she heard Scanlon’s voice calling to her but she could not answer through her fatigue and the WardSpell. She attributed it to a dream and tried to push it aside. But the voice was insistent and at last broke through clearly.
::Diesa?::
She gasped, coming wide awake in seconds. ::M’lord!::
::Where are you?:: Scanlon asked.
::I … I don’t know. Marsden has—::
::Marsden!:: Scanlon’s rage came through. ::Magus didn’t tell me—::
::No, M’lord, he didn’t know. I didn’t know.:: Diesa defended the little boy quickly.
::Why didn’t you come back with him?:: Scanlon asked. ::Why did you choose to stay with Marsden?::
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