Their captain called out, “I warn you, sir. Drop your weapons. You are in the custody of the Baron’s guard and cannot resist.”
Gathelaus snorted, glaring at them, but he would not drop his weapon despite their call for him to disarm. If he was to die now, it might as well be on his feet for Valhol’s sake. “If you’re going to shoot me, shoot, don’t talk about it.” He wobbled on his buckling legs and collapsed from exertion and blood loss.
13.
A Stranger in Paradise
He had passed out in a dirty, stinking street, surrounded by enemies, but he awoke in a beautiful marble palace, the scent of lavender hung on the breeze and a beautiful, dark-haired woman in a golden girdle that barely contained her voluptuous loveliness was tending to his wounds. Another comely woman stood overhead wafting a great palm, as a third moved an incense censer over him. They all smiled their ruby red lips at him in greeting.
“Am I in Valhol?”
“I don’t know where that is,” giggled the first.
He shot up, but pain stung his body. “Not Valhol,” he muttered. “Then where am I?”
“You are in Baron Sethur’s private seraglio. I am Jynna, that is Dalin, and she is Mardel. We have been tasked with your care. I am sorry, but now that you are awake, we must tell the Baron.” She stood and vanished behind a silken curtain. The other two put down the palm and censer and followed after her.
He felt over himself. His wounds had been bandaged and cared for but his weapons were gone—as was the Pipe.
“You were always a better lover than you were a fighter,” came a haughty woman’s voice.
“Lyana,” he answered, without turning to face her. “I suppose you had them patch me up so you could drag out my torture.”
“Why would you say such a thing, when you’re the one who has hurt me so,” she said. There was no sarcasm in her voice, but Gathelaus didn’t trust that. “You stole my heart, and my soul.”
“Rubbish. You have no heart.”
She acted hurt. “What a thing to say to me. Why by the gods would you depart my service and betray my trust like this?”
He shrugged. “I lost a battle, you were going to have me sacked so I couldn’t very well ask for payment, so I left before you could punish me.”
“You ignorant fool, you have no idea,” she snapped.
“I wasn’t going to lose my head and freedom to your whims.”
“My whims? You thought you lost the battle and me, but in truth you only lost me by thievery. We won the battle, you vainglorious fool,” she said icily. “But you were so sure of your own loss and my displeasure, you ran away and worse—you stole from me.”
He finally looked over his shoulder at her. He had been wanting to avoid it, but he couldn’t help himself. She was stunning. A long scarlet gown covered every inch of her body, but it was tight as a second skin. Her every curve stood out, begging to be caressed. He could not help but remember what it had been like to hold her in his arms. A regal crown of diamonds was upon her head and the jewels hung there and from her neck like ice from a roof in the north countries. Her green eyes and ruby red lips held him in thrall. It was all he could do to break the spell.
“You’re as ugly as ever,” he brazenly lied.
She ignored the remark with a smile and came and sat on the dais beside him. “You should not have stolen from me,” she said with a shake of her head.
He snorted, still trying to find a way to deny her beauty. “What do you need with a magic Pipe anyway? You’re no sorceress.”
“That doesn’t make it any less wrong, what you did.”
“Do you want an apology before you have me killed? I’ll not give you the satisfaction.”
She stood up. “I’m sorry that you have been in fear for your life. There was a misunderstanding with the men I hired. I wanted the Pipe at any cost. But I didn’t want you dead.”
“Ha!” he barked. “You have a funny way of showing it.”
“All right. I was angry,” she admitted, wringing her hands. “I might have spoken with haste. And I am truly sorry for that. But I really just wanted you and the Pipe back.”
“What is so important about that blasted Pipe? From what I have heard it’s a cursed item made by a demi-god.”
She ran a soft hand over his stubbled cheek. Her scent threatened to intoxicate him. “Where is it? What have you done with the Pipe? Please tell me. I really need it.” She leaned in and breathed on his ear, her tongue faintly brushing against his lobe before she sucked on it. His heart raced. Blood throttled in his veins. “Gathelaus,” she cooed, “we could spend more time together. I just need to know that the Pipe is safe, and I want it in my hands.”
All his defenses threatened to drop at the prospect of another passionate night with her, but his senses somehow kept that portcullis closed. “The baron’s guards must have taken it when I was passed out.”
She took a long step away from him. “Stop lying.”
“I’m not. Take it or leave it, cow.”
“Men said you had it only last night. You haven’t sold it yet. Where is it?”
“Who said?”
“Some poor fools that were captured outside the gates. Lotus-eaters.”
“Can’t trust them,” he said as he stood up shakily, half of him hoping she would take him in her arms again and the other half that she would suddenly be struck by lightning. “I did have it. When I fought your headhunters, I still had it. Then the baron’s guards took me. He has it, if it is so valuable, think of that.”
Her green eyes pierced his soul. She removed her crown and drop veil. “Is it really so hard to be honest with me?” She stepped closer, slowly, letting him savor and anticipate what was coming. Taking his face in her hands she gave him an ardent kiss. “Tell me,” she asked again, still holding his face in her hands.
“I told you the truth,” he said weakly.
She let go and wheeled away. “I tried, do with him as you will,” she called out.
“Very well, my dear,” slithered a voice from beyond the curtains.
Gathelaus glanced at the shadow looming there and guessed it to be Baron Sethur himself.
“You should have taken the easy route general, we would have the Pipe and you could have simply been given poison once we had it. You could have spent your few remaining hours being pleasured in my seraglio, instead, you’ll spend your remaining days tortured in my dungeon.” The baron was a tall, thin man, with a hawkish nose and long, black mustache and forked beard. He wore fine silks with purple, brocaded patterns and costly gold trim. The mitre he wore only made him seem taller and the sweeping cape on his shoulders made him seem wider.
“I told the lying slut that you took it,” said Gathelaus.
“A clumsy lie,” answered the Baron. “Insulting even, as we both know I do not have the Pipe. You have hidden it somewhere. We will find it. The only question is, how much pain do you want to go through before we get it?” Lyana sidled up to the baron and put her arms lovingly over his shoulders.
Gathelaus took in the scene and scowled. He could be sure guardsmen stood just beyond those curtains. A jeweled dagger was stuffed in the baron’s sash at his waist, beyond that there were no other potential weapons in sight but the censer and palm frond lying a step away from him.
He pretended as if he were about to faint, but bolted, grabbed the censer and swung it about like a mace on a chain.
Lyana shrieked in a panic as the Baron shoved her aside, crying out, “Guards!” in a bloody panic.
The first guard through the curtain took the swinging censer in the face at full impact and spit out his own teeth.
Gathelaus leapt after the retreating Baron and caught his flying cape. He yanked, and the baron flew back. Snatching the jeweled dagger from his sash, Gathelaus held the glittering edge at his captive’s throat.
The charging guardsmen paused, fearful for their master’s life.
“Let him go!” ordered Lyana. “Or so help me—”
>
Gathelaus guffawed, saying, “Ha! If I could trade him for you, I swear I would.”
One of the more courageous guardsmen advanced a step with his sword drawn. Gathelaus shook his head and pressed the dagger a fraction closer to the baron’s throat until he rasped, “No, fool, he’ll kill me.” The guard retreated. “What do you want?” begged the baron.
“You know what I want. The hell out of this city and away from that harpy.”
The baron choked. “A horse? I’ll give you a dozen horses.”
“Ha! And be run down by your men a mile outside the gates when you outfit me with a gutless nag? Hardly.”
The baron presented no more offers, though anyone could guess what Gathelaus would say next.
“A swift ship. Once I’m aboard and we have shoved off. I’ll tell you where the Pipe is hidden. Just the luck of the gods that I secured it before you took me.”
“If you speak true, we have a deal.” said the baron, still straining for air.
“You’ll understand why I don’t release you just yet. But I grow weary of holding a knife to your throat. Have the guardsmen leave me a pair of crossbows. Loaded. And I’ll let you breathe a little easier. Oh, and my own weapons, wherever you have hidden them.”
The baron grudgingly murmured his compliance. He motioned for his guardsmen to obey Gathelaus’s command and they reluctantly placed the crossbows upon a dais near him before backing away. Another servant retrieved Gathelaus’s spatha and his belt with the push dagger.
Gathelaus removed the dagger slowly, while yet keeping a firm grip on the Baron’s cape. He reached over and picked up the two crossbows and held them in the crook of each arm. “Don’t try to run or I’ll stick you like I did her.” He gestured at Lyana. She blushed.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” snarled the baron, still inhaling deeply to regain his breath. He moved a hand over his throat, touching the smear of blood there with a fretful grimace.
Gathelaus ordered, “To the docks. And to deal with any assassins, I would that we should ride together in your largest palanquin.”
“Very well,” said the baron with a glower.
“And me?” questioned Lyana, cocking her eyebrow.
“You too,” answered Gathelaus. “But I’ll not hesitate to pierce your black heart if you try and thwart me.”
She frowned but nodded.
***
Gathelaus realized where he must have lost the Pipe. The only explanation was down in the tunnels, after he had shown it to Sigurd. It was likely as not in the very same one where his friend had died, perhaps even on the other side of the abyss. It was even possible that it fell from his satchel as he climbed out and had the cow piss on him. But he doubted he could be so lucky as for the Pipe to be that close, besides, what did it matter to him now? He would tell them it was in the tunnels and be away on a ship. Let them deal with the spider haunted tunnels as a parting gift. The thought made him smile.
“What are you smiling about?” asked Lyana, as she reclined across from him in the palanquin.
He smirked. “Just that things worked out for me regardless. You’ll get your Pipe, but I’ll be away.”
“With nothing,” she said, coldly.
“I don’t think so. I believe I’ll have the baron give me a writ that the ship is duly mine before I set sail, and I think I’ll keep this jeweled dagger as a memento. And give me a good reason I shouldn’t take your crown, or at least your necklace, as a keepsake, too?”
“You, greedy dog!” she snarled.
“Whatever you want, Gathelaus,” said the baron. “This has been far more uncomfortable than I ever wished it to be. And,” he added dryly with a frown directed at Lyana, “more difficult than I was led to believe it would be.”
“He gets it,” said Gathelaus, as he winked at Lyana.
***
At the docks, more than a dozen ships were ready to sail out of the harbor and the baron told Gathelaus he could choose any one of them that he wished.
“They all appear to have crews. Men of yours that I shall have to deal with. I don’t want that. Just a small catboat. Something I can steer myself and be away. A swift one.”
“I’m afraid I don’t have anything smaller than a double-masted brig. Maybe a small caravel?” said the baron with hint of pleasure at Gathelaus’s dissatisfaction.
“Are you playing games with me? Would you that I should pierce your heart with these bolts?”
The baron balked a little. “Of course, not general, but these are all trading ships. I have no use for the small blockade runners you are asking for. So, I have none. These larger ships require crews, men—men that I am freely giving you to run yourself where it is you should wish to go.”
Gathelaus snarled. “Men that will cut my throat for you once I fall asleep, you mean.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. A deal is a deal. Give us the queen’s Pipe and you are free to go. Where is it?”
Gathelaus looked the nearest brigantine over. It was a fine ship and looked swift enough, but it had two masts and a dozen crewmen. He couldn’t possibly trust them to not assassinate him once out to sea. But he also wasn’t sure he could handle such a ship himself.
“Where is it, Gathelaus?” asked Lyana.
“Weigh anchor,” he called over his shoulder. He guessed time was running short and he had to take his chances with a dozen enemy crewmen rather than however many guards the baron had. Sooner or later one of their better archers would take him down from a hidden window.
The baron nodded to the crew, who did as Gathelaus bid them and the drew the anchor up and loosed the mooring to the dock.
Gathelaus ran and jumped aboard. The ship pushed off from the docks and was a good ten feet out. He made it. Once aboard he looked back and called out, “Down in the tunnels. I placed it carefully on the hidden path. Go to the stables by the bazaar, you’ll find it. I swear.” He smiled to himself that he was away.
Instead of going toward the tunnels, the baron and Lyana stood at the docks watching him slowly drift away. Gathelaus grew suspicious. He guessed he could handle a dozen sailors. What was he missing?
A troop of well armored guardsmen poured out from the hold like a swarm of angry wasps. Their swords, axes, and crossbows pointed at Gathelaus.
The captain nodded to the sailors, who quickly took the ship back to the docks.
Back on shore, the baron said to the disarmed Gathelaus. “Did you really think you could threaten my life and get away with it? Fool! You are going to get the Pipe back for us. No more games.”
“Why should I do that?”
“I’m giving you a chance. Fetch it for us or die right now. I’ll kill you myself,” shouted the baron, swinging his own scimitar in the air before the bound general.
“By myself?”
“Oh no, I’ll not give you a chance to slip through my fingers again. Captain Tuomas will be with you, along with a dozen of my best men. You will get the Pipe for us.”
The burning eyes of Lyana dug into Gathelaus as he stood, saying, “I guess I’ll see what I can do.”
14.
The Spider God
He led them through the bazaar and into the stables that held the trapdoor. The guardsmen grumbled among themselves until their captain ordered one of them to go down first, just to be sure Gathelaus didn’t have a means of escape as soon as he climbed down.
Once sure the way was clear, another came down and then Gathelaus himself.
He was grateful the Pipe hadn’t fallen out right here when he had climbed up the ladder, or they would be taking him right back up for execution. Now he had a slim chance of evading them, if the spiders proved a good enough distraction. And, if the spiders didn’t kill him too. At least he would know not to be surprised if he suddenly heard their chittering.
They marched down the dark passage for some time, checking several of the side passages for the possibility of ambush, until they came to where Gathelaus told them they would find the Pipe. They squ
eezed through the narrow gap until it opened up to the size of a standard hallway.
“I know I put it down this one, but I may have to look a few times to be sure what ledge I left it on. I didn’t want a passing slave to find it, did I?”
That seemed to pacify the captain, but they still had a guardsman walk in front of Gathelaus and another right behind him with a crossbow.
“What’s that reek?” asked one of the guardsmen.
“I think the slave pens are just above us,” said Gathelaus, knowing it was actually the carrion of the spiders and the lingering scent of smoke hanging in the air about them.
“That doesn’t smell like any slave pen I’ve ever been to,” answered the guard. “This smells downright demonic.”
“Shuddup,” commanded the captain. “We’ve a job to do.”
They rounded through several S-curves in the passage and then came to the wider chamber. The blackened form of what had been Sigurd lay there. But there was no sign of the dead Merovians that Gathelaus knew had been there. Had the spiders taken their corpses?
“Well, there’s an abyss and no way across it, so if this is the right tunnel, it must be here, somewhere right?”
“It’s here somewhere,” said Gathelaus, stalling for time. “One of these side ledges.”
“Captain, something moved over there on the other side,” said one of the guardsmen, holding his lantern high to try and grant more light across the deep gulf.
“How deep is that?” asked another.
“Who cares? Ain’t nothing getting across that,” said the captain.
Gathelaus made a show of looking across the rock face, something he had never bothered to do before when he had been in this chamber.
“It doesn’t look like there is anywhere to hide the Pipe here. You’re lying, you are,” snarled the captain, cuffing Gathelaus across the face.
“It might have been on the other side,” said Gathelaus.
“And just how did you get over there?”
“We had a long plank, we crossed but we knocked it over the side when we fought the Merovians.”
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