Part 19 (1/2)
”I have no interest,” said Deacon again. ”I don't want any partic.i.p.ation in a cause, feel no responsibility, and seek no advantage. Keep your coin-purse in your pocket.”
Orsious replied, ”Do not make your decision in such haste. Every man has his price, not always in gold. You would not be here meddling in spell books if you did not want something. Dine with me tonight, and we can discuss it.”
”You'll have to find another,” a.s.serted Deacon. ”I'll be gone this day and will not come back.”
Magenta heard these words, and it was as though a cruel wind had suddenly extinguished a lamp. Only the night before he had not breathed a word about his departure.
As Deacon turned to leave, the door slammed shut before him, as if struck by some unseen force. Magenta started at the loud bang, followed by her father's vibrating voice of authority. She rushed out to where she saw Deacon sinking under the strength of two men. After resisting only a short moment, he suddenly desisted. His eyes had caught Magenta-pale and struggling to contain her bitter disappointment.
Fraomar watched this exchange. He saw Deacon's countenance fall, her pale lips quiver, and a realization crept bitterly upon him. Steeling himself against her, Deacon turned away his face, looking sideways, downward, to avoid her eyes. Froamar observed what pa.s.sed between them, and it roused in him a fierce jealousy. In his heart he vowed he would kill the wretch at his first chance.
”Remove her,” said Orsious, motioning to his daughter.
”I'll see her safely home,” offered Fraomar, officiously. Deacon looked over to him. Their eyes met for mere seconds, but already the two men had made enemies of one another.
Orsious approached Deacon. In the imprisonment of his captors' hands he remained upright, his jaw defiantly firm. ”We shall discuss matters further, when you've had time to think about them,” said Orsious, speaking from a height of conscious superiority. Deacon made no reply and was half-dragged from the room.
Moments after, Fraomar led Magenta home. His hands did not venture near her. She walked with him in silence. She wondered why Deacon had not told her of his leaving but would not harden her heart against him, not without first knowing the reason behind his actions. She thought for certain it must have been his intention to come to her if he had not been detained, but his look of guilty misery told her otherwise.
Fraomar, walking at her shoulder, broke her scrutiny, saying, ”Your mind lingers on that poor fool.” Her face remained turned forward, giving no indication of her thoughts, but she listened intently. ”He should have accepted Orsious's proposal. Now he'll suffer. If he knows what's best for him, he'll revise his decision. He will have time, at least, to think of it in his cell.” Fraomar laughed. ”I despise the wretch,” he said, with a vindictiveness as unexpected as the declaration. At his words Magenta could scarcely suppress the outward manifestations of her wrath. ”Had your father no use for him, I would cut his throat. Even now, I consider paying him a visit to let him taste what is to come.”
All the time he was speaking, her feelings of offence became more and more intense. ”What purpose does it serve?” she said coolly. For a moment he spoke nothing. But when his utterance came it was with significance.
”You love him,” he said, turning to observe the effect of his words. She paused in her step, growing pale as if he now knew her guarded secret and would use it against her. Satisfied by her reaction, he continued, ”While I so senselessly attempted to earn your heart, it was all the time occupied, a condition you made certain to conceal from me. Now the love you have killed has turned into rancour, and that bitterness he shall taste, till life itself becomes a punishment and a burden. He will find in me the worst of enemies,” said Fraomar with a look of implacable menace.
Magenta's mind and heart ran hot. For a moment she was overcome, her breath coming deep and tremulous. Then she said, slowly and with perfect clarity, ”Should you dare to touch him, I swear neither devils below nor angels above will save you from the misery that will befall your accursed head. I will make you feel, by the forces of h.e.l.l, the full meaning of a woman's hatred. In me you will find the worst of enemies.”
”Bravely spoken,” he said. ”You have my word, sweet one; I'll not touch him. However, you should know in places such as Gilaad it's hard to prevent such things occurring.” He saw her eyes darken with anger, her bosom rise and fall, and knew she wanted to kill him. It gave him a peculiar satisfaction to know he induced such strong sentiments within her, even if it was to his own detriment. ”Come,” he said. ”Don't stand away from me; I will take you home.”
”My home is locked away with my heart at Gilaad.” With that she left him.
Not far from the mages' guild was an old archery courtyard. It was rarely frequented since the construction of the new court. Magenta went there sometimes. Cedrik and Derek had not seen Deacon since the men took him away earlier in the day. They were on their way home from the guild where they had gone in search of answers, but from which they had received none, when Derek glimpsed the priestess in the courtyard. He stopped, abruptly holding Cedrik back with an open palm to his stomach. Cedrik groaned with the breath knocked from him.
”Let's ask her.” Derek nudged him hard and nodded to Magenta. In her hands she held a finely crafted bow drawn and notched with an arrow, the intensity of her concentration a little frightening. She released the arrow, very precisely and cleanly, striking the target with great accuracy. Holding his stomach, Cedrik followed Derek's lead. She alone was there. Intently focused, she made no effort to acknowledge their presence.
Cedrik, approaching with some caution, introduced himself and Derek and told her, in the form of a question, that he believed she was acquainted with their cousin. Magenta lowered the bow. She seemed startled, as if she had been s.n.a.t.c.hed from a deep reverie. ”Deacon,” she said, a slight frown in her brow.
”That's him,” said Derek. His attention was fixed on her with intense fascination. All this while he had wanted to see a dark priestess.
”Some men came this morning for him,” said Cedrik. ”We haven't seen him since, and no explanation was given to us.”
”He is being held at Gilaad,” she said, ”a place of confinement for those who indulge in the misapplication of magic. Other things take place there of which I know little.”
”Why is he being held? What did he do?” said Cedrik. That it had not been the first time did not lessen his anxiety.
”He refused a proposition. No one refuses my father,” she said with resentment.
”He won't hurt him, will he?” asked Derek.
”Your father, you say?” asked Cedrik. ”I don't suppose there's anything you can do to sort this matter?”
”No, I fear not.”
Cedrik nodded, his mind working.
Magenta asked, ”Where are you staying?”
”In one of the cottages by the lake.”
”Meet me after dark by the edge of the wood,” she said, ”and I will help you retrieve your cousin.”
Cedrik was about to protest. He would rather not go against the law, but something in her expression compelled him to agree.
The moment the brothers returned to the cottage, Cade said to them, ”Well, what's happened with him, then?”
”He's being held at Gilaad,” answered Derek.
Cade snorted. ”The fool has been here for how long?” he said, amused. ”Never mind. They'll rough him a little, teach him a lesson or two, then release him back into the wild.”
”No I don't think so,” said Cedrik. ”The woman said his life was on the line.”
”What woman?”
”One of the priestesses was there.”
”A priestess!” Cade repeated, hotly. ”Does no one ever listen to me? Don't put trust in a single word she spoke. Deceit is all that can come from those lips.”
”I did not mis...o...b.. her words,” said Cedrik, his tone serious.
”If you're truly convinced his life's endangered ...” Cade let out a resigned breath. ”I have some friends who might be able to help.”
With the calm, blind manner of one who has set her will to a task from which there is no return, Magenta took into her possession several small evil-filled vials. Setting her foot on the edge of her bed, she slipped as many of these as she could into the slots of her leather boot, meant for that purpose, and more into a band that strapped round her upper thigh. When she could carry no more she drew down the skirt of her gown, concealing the treachery, and went to the window.
It was several hours until darkfall, when she had arranged for the boatman to be awaiting her. Stepping out the window, clinging to what she could, Magenta began the precarious descent down the wall. It was a difficult undertaking for any maiden, especially one so unaccustomed to physical exertion. Several times she slipped, and for a moment she was afraid, but her will and determination sustained her. She would free Deacon. She meant to leave with him this night and not return.
Chapter32.
The Escape -he dull evening light crept slowly over the cottages and at last began to die away into darkness. ”Where are they?” asked Derek with excited nerves, as the three men stood awaiting their accomplices.
”They'll be here soon,” answered Cade and rubbed his hands together briskly to keep them warm. He swore and sat down on the porch steps. ”It would would have to be the coldest night yet.” have to be the coldest night yet.”
Behind him stood Cedrik, who remained very quiet, very still. He knew it was a venture fraught with danger not to be taken lightly. At his hip was his sword. Cade s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably. He hated that everyone was so silent and yet did not feel compelled to break the silence himself.
Two young men came toward the cottage with swift purposeful steps. Cade rose to his feet, and the brothers went with him to met the arrivals. Carson, a st.u.r.dy boy of nineteen, had unkept brown hair and light blue eyes. His countenance, which was by no means unpleasing, was youthful in its expression and full of devilment. Bayne was a slender, swarthy young man of twenty-two. He had a good-looking face, with a straight nose and a full mouth, and eyes that spoke of trouble under the dark lashes. He wore an expression of pride, accompanied by a degree of hostility. He had an old scar from a nasty gnash on his left brow. Both exuded a great deal of self-a.s.surance and daredevilry.
”We stopped by the alchemist and got some bang berries,” said Carson with a broad smile. ”They won't do any damage, but when hot they make a whole lot of noise.”