Savage Games of Lord Zarak (10 page)

Dagmar had been cruel to both Sarah and Josh—as she was to the rest of the slaves. Now her muddy brown eyes were filled with unusual hatred. “Come along,” she said. “You can't serve her lady stinking like the swine.”

Josh nodded, saying, “Go on, Sarah. It'll be better for you than this.”

“Silence, slave!” Dagmar cried. “And you, girl, come along.”

Dagmar led Sarah to a room just off the kitchen and said, “You've got to be cleaned up. Have you ever had a bath?”

“Yes. Of course, I've had baths.”

“Well, don't be so proud of it. There—the water's heated.” She pointed to a metal tub. “Get in there and scrub yourself.”

What a blessed relief to soak herself clean, Sarah thought. She found that a bar of soft soap had been left for her. She even washed her hair.

And then Dagmar returned with—wonder of wonders—clean underwear, a pair of black shoes, and a simple gray dress. “Put these on,” she ordered. She watched as Sarah scrambled into the clothes. Then she commanded, “And do something with your hair!”

There was nothing to do with except a comb and a brush, but Sarah did her best. It felt so good just to be clean again.
Whatever happens to me from now on,
she thought,
I got a bath!

“All right. All right. You'll have to do. Go up those stairs. Ask the guards to direct you to the lady's rooms. And mind your manners, or she will have the hide taken off your back.”

Sarah found her way without difficulty to the chamber of Lady Lara.

The guard gave her a stare, then winked. “You've sure come up in the world now. Better go on in. Her ladyship's been waiting for you.”

Sarah entered the door that the guard opened and saw Lady Lara standing by the window, looking out. “They told me to come to you, my lady.”

“Yes. My maid's ill. You'll have to serve in her place. You probably don't know anything about waiting on ladies.”

“Not a great deal, but I'll do my best, my lady.” “All right. I need to change clothes, and then you must do my hair.”

 

Lady Lara watched her new maid work and was amazed to find that she was very capable indeed. The girl's hands were gentle, and she had a way of arrang
ing hair that pleased the lady very much. “You do well,” she said. “As well as Bettis, and she has taken care of me all of her life.”

“You have beautiful hair, my lady. Very beautiful, indeed.”

For some time Lady Lara simply relaxed. She was highly pleased with all the attention she got and with the quickness of the slave. “What is your name, girl? I forget.”

“Sarah, my lady.”

“Well, Sarah, how is your other friend doing? What's his name?”

“Josh.”

“Yes. Josh. Is he being treated well?”

“No, my lady. I fear not.”

Lady Lara had asked the question just out of curiosity. She really had no interest in slaves. She stared at the girl, surprised at her answer. “And you. I suppose you haven't been treated well, either?”

“I do not complain. My lady asked me, and I told you. We've both been half starved and worked until we couldn't stand up.”

Lady Lara did not know whether to be angry or not.
However, I did ask the question,
she thought.
I can't get angry with the girl if she gives me an answer. And she is polite enough.

“Your other friend has been returned to the dungeon. Did you know that?”

“Oh, no. I didn't know. What has he done?”

“He was insolent. To me!”

The hand on Lady Lara's hair seemed to tremble slightly. “I'm truly sorry to hear that, Lady Lara,” she said.

“Has he always been as insolent to his betters as he is now?”

“I have not known him very long, my lady.”

“Tell me about him.”

“What would you like to know, my lady?”

“He puzzles me. He's the best swordsman I've ever seen, and yet he's rebellious and insolent. He can't learn his place.”

“Perhaps it would help to understand, Lady Lara,” her new maid said quietly, “that he has never been a slave before. He has always been free—indeed, as we all have been. Imagine, if you can, if you yourself suddenly were made a slave. It would be very difficult for you, would it not—my lady?”

Lady Lara was silent. She kept on looking at her reflection in the mirror as the girl arranged her hair. She studied Sarah's face in the glass and saw no insolence there. Then she turned around and looked directly into her eyes. She said, “I don't see any hatred or rebellion in you. But when I look into Roland's eyes, I see anger.”

“He is a confused young man, my lady. But he has some fine qualities. He has been spoiled, and that is never good for anyone.”

“Spoiled how?”

“In every way, I fear. He comes from a wealthy family, he has always had everything he wanted, and perhaps you have noticed how fine looking he is.”

“Why should I notice what a slave looks like?”

“Well, perhaps not. But other girls have found him so. It is impossible that they should not. I myself think he is one of the finest looking boys I've ever seen! Strong, and tall, and that red hair and green eyes!” Sarah went on. “I think he's
very
handsome, my lady.”

“Well . . . perhaps if he were cleaned up. Then he might be presentable.”

“Yes, my lady.”

For some time, Lady Lara asked Sarah questions. She found herself growing very curious, indeed. At last she said, “And what are you three doing here? How did you come to this land, and
why
did you come?”

Somewhat cautiously, Lady Lara thought, Sarah began to speak of their travels and of an unusual person named Goél. She told of the courage and the goodness of Goél and how he had saved her life and the lives of her friends many times.

“I have heard something of this Goél,” Lady Lara said. “But I thought he was merely a story made up.”

“No, indeed, lady. He's more than that. He is real. If you ever meet him, you will know that there is nobody like him. Nobody at all.”

Lady Lara did not talk further about Goél, but as she allowed Sarah to help her dress, she was thinking deeply about what she had just heard.

 

The cell door suddenly swung open, and Roland blinked in confusion as he was dragged out into the passageway.

“Come along!” the guard said roughly.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Don't ask questions. You will be safer that way.”

Roland kept quiet, and the guard guided his steps. After they had made several turns, he was pushed through a door and slammed down into a chair. The room was dark except for a single light that shone into the darkness from above.

“Stay seated. I want to talk to you,” someone said from behind him.

Instantly Roland knew that voice. He had heard it often enough to recognize it. The speaker was Lord Zarak. And for some reason, Roland became suddenly afraid. If physical danger were being threatened, he might have faced it with more courage, but there was something evil about this very room.

“You will answer my questions,” Zarak said. The king's counselor moved around into Roland's line of vision. He had removed the medallion he always wore and was slowly swinging it to and fro, so that it reflected flashing rays of light. His voice became soft as he began to ask Roland about many things.

There was something about the medallion that Roland could not understand. In the first place, he was unable to take his eyes off it. And as he watched it swing back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, his mind seemed to be grasped in a way that he had never known. The voice of Zarak went on asking questions, asking questions, and Roland had to struggle in order to answer without giving away any important facts.

I can't let Zarak know that there are other Sleepers out in the forest. He would hunt them down.

That was Roland's resolve, but it was very difficult to carry out. He also noticed that a strange incense was burning. The incense, as well as Zarak's voice and the medallion, seemed to paralyze his mind.

And dimly he remembered what he had been told by Josh and the other Sleepers:
There are strange powers at work in this world, and the battle will not be a battle with swords or arrows so much as a battle for the mind. Lord Zarak is powerful in the dark arts. If you ever encounter him, you will have to be able to stand in the spirit.

On and on the questioning went. By now Roland could barely sit up.

Then he heard Zarak's voice say triumphantly, “There. You see, Your Majesty, he has condemned himself.”

Roland had no idea what it was he had said. He still felt half drugged by the sight of the medallion, by the voice of Zarak, and by the smell of the incense. He did manage to look up and see that there was now a third person in the room—King Falmor.

The king stood staring at him strangely. Then Falmor nodded his head. “Yes, I can see that he is a dangerous one. A dangerous one, indeed.”

“Then I have your permission to use him in the Hunt of Death?”

“Certainly. We cannot have such dangerous ones among us.”

 

Lady Lara looked up from where she sat on the garden bench to see Lord Zarak coming across the courtyard toward her. The counselor wore an unusually satisfied smile on his face.

“And why are you so happy today, Lord Zarak?” she asked.

“Because I have at last convinced the king concerning your slave.”

“Roland? What about Roland? He's in the dungeon.”

“Yes, but the king and I have interrogated him, and he has revealed that he is a traitor.”

Lady Lara studied the man's face. He was triumphant indeed. And she began to feel a strange sensation. “What—what did my father say?”

“Your father has given orders that your slave will
be the quarry in the next Hunt of Death. You have had your fun tormenting him, but now your father has spoken. He will die under my spear.”

The king's daughter could not answer.

She got up at once and went to her chamber, where Sarah took one look at her face and said, “You look troubled, my lady.”

“Your friend Roland—he has been condemned to be the quarry in the next Hunt of Death.”

“Oh, no!” Sarah cried. “That must not happen! But . . . but why?”

“He is the enemy of my people. Why should I care about a slave?” Lady Lara said, but she walked the floor. “He is the enemy. He must die. Death is the proper sentence for an enemy.”

Her maid stood straight and waited until Lady Lara's eyes met hers. Then she said quietly, “He is not your enemy, my lady. He came with all the rest of us to help your people.”

Lady Lara hesitated. She could not understand the sensations that were going through her. “Indeed, I wish I could do something,” she said finally. “But it is my father's command.”

“You are your father's daughter. He will listen to you,” Sarah pleaded.

“No, I can do nothing. He is the enemy of our people.” Lady Lara repeated this loudly as if to convince herself, and then she said to the girl, “Leave me now!”

“Yes, my lady.”

As soon as her maid left the room, Lady Lara threw herself across her bed. She found herself totally unable to explain the feelings that were swirling in her.

“Why should I care about him?” she asked aloud. “He is just a slave. Just a slave.” But she realized that some
how, in some strange way, the slave Roland Winters had made an impression on her. She lay on the bed for a long time, thinking, searching for a solution.

Then Lady Lara whispered, “No, there is nothing I can do. I cannot change my father's command.”

 

 

D
ave and Reb lounged on one side of the campfire, while Abbey and Wash sat on the other. Jake, sitting a little apart from the other Sleepers, picked up a stick and poked at the flames. Sparks flew furiously.

Dave jerked back, yelling, “Watch out! You're sending sparks all over me! You want to set me on fire?”

Jake gave him a short glance and then looked back at his stick. “I don't know what we're going to do,” he said. “I sure wish Goél was here.”

Goodman and Bentain, who had joined the Sleepers this evening, were sitting a short distance from the fire. When no one else spoke, Goodman said, “I wouldn't have too much hope for your friends if I were you. No one has ever come out of the dungeons— or if they did, they were in pitiful shape.”

“But we've got to do something!” Abbey said loudly. “We can't just sit here and not help.”

“Abbey's right,” Reb agreed. “Look, Dave. You remember that time we were all mixed up with that wizard's castle in Whiteland and you scaled the wall? Why couldn't you do that again?”

“I probably could,” Dave said. “But what would I do when I got inside?”

“Why, you could knock out the guards, lower the drawbridge, and then we'd come charging in.”