The Mirror of Her Dreams (95 page)

'Nyle had trouble believing that. But-let me try to get it right'

-Geraden looked at the ceiling while he searched his memory

-'Prince Kragen said, 'I regret that she is at hazard. But she has assured me many times that her role is secure. We must trust that she will do what she has said.''

'Is that all?' demanded the Castellan.

Geraden shrugged. 'Nyle still wasn't convinced. But Prince Kragen said, 'The lady Elega's safety and success depend upon secrecy.' He was pretty careful. I'm not sure Nyle realized how many of his questions weren't being answered.'

'Poor Nyle,' the Castellan sneered.

'Unfortunate,' contributed the Tor thoughtfully. 'What can one woman hidden in Orison do to ensure the success-the
instant
success-of the Alend Monarch's siege? I confess that I am baffled. I need wine.'

With an effort, he heaved himself to his feet. The bench under Terisa flexed in relief.

'Good Castellan,' he murmured, 'I suggest that you question your prisoners. But try not to harm them. You really must curb your instinct for excess. I suspect that Nyle will be more amenable to persuasion than force. Perhaps he will speak frankly if he can be made to believe that Elega has been caught-that the only way to spare her distress is by revealing what he knows. And the creature of Imagery may let slip something helpful.'

Thanks for the advice, my lord Tor,' Castellan Lebbick replied. 'Question the prisoners. I would never have thought of that. While you're waiting for me to tell you what I've found out, what will you be doing?' His question was an obvious reference to the lord's drinking.

The Tor sighed. For a moment, his thick flesh dropped into lines of sorrow. 'Good Castellan, I trust you more than you know. I am sure that you have done everything in your power. Nevertheless I am not content with matters as they stand. I will make one more attempt to interest King Joyse in the fate of his kingdom.'

With that, he waddled out of the guardroom.

At once, Lebbick turned a glare like the cut of a hatchet at Terisa and Geraden, 'I
like
that. I've been wrestling with this problem for years, and one fat old man thinks he can solve it by howling outside the King's door.'

Here it comes, Terisa thought glumly. Now he's really going to tear into us. -

She was wrong: the Castellan had more imagination than that. There was malice and anticipation in his tone as he said, 'You two still haven't told me what I want to know. But I don't want to be accused of
excess.
And you won't be leaving Orison anytime soon. You'll have plenty of time to talk yourselves into telling me the truth.

'In the meantime, I want you to help me question the prisoners. You should enjoy that.'

She and Geraden looked at each other. The room wasn't so warm after all; she no longer wanted to take off her coat. His face held an expression of alarm that worried her. She was so full of her own problems that she tended to forget how much he was suffering.
Help me question
-Did the Castellan really intend to use him against his brother? After what he had already done?

Because she believed Geraden needed her, she rose to her feet and met Castellan Lebbick's scowl.

'You're searching for Elega,' She was still afraid of him. Nevertheless she had stood up to him in the past; she could do it again. 'Do you think there's any chance you'll find her?'

His jaws chewed iron. Yet in spite of his ire he answered her. He looked oddly helpless, as if he didn't have any choice. That depends on how many secret passages she knows. I can't spare enough men to search them all at the same time.'

'I understand.' She had expected that. It was unimportant, however. Her next question was the one which mattered. As if she weren't going off in a completely different direction, she asked, 'Is it true that your men never found the champion?'

Is it true that your men never found Myste?

Those pigshit Imagers,' he rasped. 'No, my men never found the champion. And that doesn't make sense. He must have left a trail. He needs to eat, doesn't he? He must have raided villages for food. That's not the kind of thing a farmer or cattleherd forgets. Even if he went straight for Cadwal, we should have been able to follow him at least that far. But my men couldn't even find
rumours
about him.

'Either he's dead under a snowdrift somewhere. Or Gilbur and Vagel repented their folly and sent him back where he belongs. And if you can swallow that one, you'll believe anything. Or he sprouted wings and flew away.
You
tell
me.

'As for the firecat'-Lebbick gave a bleak shrug-'we were lucky. It went west into a part of Armigite that's too rugged and barren for people.'

But what about Myste? What happened to Myste?

If the man she risked her life to find had disappeared, what did she do?

'Castellan,' Geraden interposed. Terisa had given him enough time to recover his self-possession. 'If you're planning to tell Nyle lies about Elega, you don't want me with you. He knows me too well. He'll see the truth in my face. I won't be able to hide it.'

Lebbick looked at the Apt. For the second time, his face went through a strange transformation. Terisa expected him to be livid, but he wasn't. Taken by surprise, he was open, accessible to pain: Geraden had hurt his feelings. 'I have no intention of lying to anyone.' He spoke sternly, but his sternness wasn't anger. 'I
don't tell lies.'

'I'm sorry,' Geraden said at once, abashed by the change in the Castellan. 'I knew that. I'm just not thinking straight.'

'It wouldn't make any difference if you were.' Castellan Lebbick's tone was rude; yet his intent may have been kind. 'No matter how important the Tor thinks you are, you didn't cause this mess. Prince Kragen told your brother a lot of hogslop. I know Margonal. He hasn't suddenly been converted to benevolence and peace. He's been planning to invade Mordant ever since he heard about King Joyse.

'Come on.'

Dismissing Geraden's apology along with his own odd vulnerability, the Castellan strode towards the door.

The guardroom that gave access to Orison's dungeon was unaltered from the time when Terisa had passed through it with Artagel, going to talk to Master Eremis. Despite its resemblance to a crude tavern-its trestle tables and rough benches, its beds and hearth, its refreshment bar-its defensive function was unmistakable. The racks fixed along all the walls held enough pikes and swords to equip forty or fifty fighting men. And the room itself was the only way into or out of the passages that led to the cells.

Remembering Master Eremis made her heart feel weak. He had left Orison without coming to her, fulfilling his promise- An ache of desire or loss passed over her.

If the room hadn't changed, however, the men in it had. They weren't ill-disciplined and resting: they were on their feet, at attention to meet the Castellan's arrival.

He saluted their captain and stalked on through the guardroom without speaking.

Geraden shrugged and grimaced companionably at the guards as he and Terisa followed the Castellan. One or two of them nodded to him slightly, little signs that they understood his circumstances.

The air beyond the guardroom remained dank, foul with rotting straw and recollections of torture, fretted with hints of old blood. The infrequent lanterns seemed to create more gloom than illumination; the passage wandered as if it led down into the dark places of Orison's soul. Castellan Lebbick took one turn, then another, and reached the region of the cells.

Past his shoulders, Terisa saw two guards coming along the corridor. They walked in single-file, apparently lugging something heavy between them.

An instant later, she realized that they were carrying a litter.

Panic leaped in Geraden's face.

She thought dumbly, Nyle?

When Castellan Lebbick shifted to one side of the passage, however, and the guards took the other, she saw that the man lying in the litter wasn't Nyle.

'Artagel!' Geraden cried in relief and consternation. 'You're supposed to be in bed.'

The guards stopped, and Artagel hitched himself up on one elbow.

'What're you doing here?' snapped the Castellan. This is none of your business. I've already lost one man today, along with my best chance to catch Margonal's pigslime son. I don't need you bleeding to death on top of my other problems.'

'Are you all right?' Geraden put in. Suddenly, he had so much to say that it all tried to tumble out at once. There was no other way I could stop him. I couldn't talk him out of it. He saved us. He could have let us be killed, but he didn't. It makes me sick. I hit-' His voice caught; he couldn't go on. His whole face burned for Artagel's forgiveness.

But Artagel didn't glance at Geraden. 'He's my brother,' he replied to the Castellan in a voice like a dry husk. He looked like he had suffered a relapse of fever: his mouth had lost its humour, and his eyes glittered like polished stones. 'I had to see him.'

One of the guards shrugged against the weight of the litter.
'
We couldn't talk him out of it, Castellan. He was going to walk if we didn't carry him.'

Castellan Lebbick ignored the guards. Facing Artagel, he demanded, 'What did he say?'

With surprising strength, Artagel reached out, caught at Leb-bick's sash, pulled the Castellan closer to him. 'He told me the truth. He got into this because he loves that crazy woman. And because he thinks it's right. Somebody has got to save Mordant. He thinks Margonal is our only chance.' Staring at him, Terisa understood that he wasn't angry. He grinned when he was angry. No, what he felt now was close to despair. 'She talked to him about everything in the world except her part in Kragen's plans. He doesn't know where she is, or what she's going to do.'

On the other hand, Castellan Lebbick was angry enough for both of them. 'Do you expect me to believe that?'

'Artagel?' Geraden insisted. 'Artagel?' Artagel met the Castellan's glare. Slowly, he let go of the sash and eased himself onto his back in the litter. 'I don't care whether you believe me or not. I don't even care if you torture him. He's a son of the Domne. No matter what you do, this is going to kill my father.'

Geraden raised a hand and clamped it around his mouth to keep himself still.

The Castellan drew himself up, His face showed no softening. Nevertheless he said, 'All right. I'll try believing him for a while and see what happens.'

For the first time, Artagel turfied his eyes to Geraden. The angle of the light from the one lantern filled his face with shadows,

Geraden flinched. Terisa had never seen him look more like a puppy cringing because he had offended someone he loved and didn't know what to do about it. He needed understanding if not forgiveness, needed some kind of consolation from his brother.

He didn't get it.

'You're the smart one of the family.' Artagel's voice was still as dry as fever. 'You find that woman and stop her. If you don't -and she betrays us-I swear to you I'm not going to let Margonal's men in here, no matter who tells me to surrender. I'll fight them all if I have to.'

In response, Geraden's face twisted as if he were about to throw up.

'Oh, get him out of here,' Castellan Lebbick rasped to the guards. Tut him back in bed. Tie him down-if you have to. Then call his physician. This air is making him crazy. Right now, he couldn't fight a pregnant cripple.'

'Yes, Castellan.' The guards settled their shoulders into the load and took Artagel in the direction of the guardroom.

'Geraden?' Terisa put her hand on his arm and felt the pressure that knotted his muscles. 'He didn't mean it. He still has a fever. He shouldn't have got out of bed.' He was so hurt that she wanted to embrace him; but Castellan Lebbick's presence prevented that. 'Listen to me. He didn't mean to blame you.'

The Apt turned to her. Gloom hid his eyes. He had his back to the lantern; the lines of his face were dark. He didn't respond to what she said. But he continued to face her as he addressed the Castellan.

That just leaves the creature who attacked us.' His tone was as empty as one of the cells. 'What do you think you can learn from him?'