The White Robe (53 page)

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Authors: Clare Smith

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Horror, #Dark Fantasy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Epic, #Sword & Sorcery

BOOK: The White Robe
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“For a man it won’t be, but for another magician, especially one with the power of a black, the task would be simple and even if it’s not, there’s always the torc Razarin spoke of. With that around his throat he would be mine to control.” He clapped the black robe on his back. “Sadrin, you must leave immediately, take whatever you need and find Jonderill and bring him back here to me.”

 

“Are you sure this is wise, My Lord? The other kings may feel threatened if you have the use of two magicians. They may join against you for such a move.”

 

“Fuck them! This is just the chance I’ve been waiting for. I want you on the way by sunrise. Head towards Alewinder, that’s where he was last seen.” He laughed and slapped Sadrin on the back again. “That will please my brother and his incestuous bitch; they wanted me to deal with Jonderill, but perhaps not quite like this. Now I’m going to wake Razarin from his dreams and tell him the good news that I am going to deal with his problem and you can help yourself to dinner.”

 

He slapped Sadrin on the back one last time and left singing a crude soldier’s song at the top of his voice. Sadrin waited until the song had faded away to nothing, staring down at the cold food on the table and then clicked his fingers. In the corner his slave stood and hurried over to him and took the sweet pastry he held out to her. She nibbled it delicately at the edges like a squeaker with a morsel of cheese until it was all gone.

 

“Will you do this thing, master?”

 

Sadrin nodded. “I have been commanded to do so.”

 

“But if you bring this one with magic back here then you’ll have to share your master’s affections with another. A time might come when your master might prefer a white robe to a black and will set him up as the next High Master instead of you.” Sadrin gave her a hard look and she cringed slightly. “I’m sorry for these words, master, but this is what I have seen others do; a new toy is of more interest than an old one, which may be discarded on a whim. Should Jonderill be more willing to share your master’s bed than you have been, he may be preferred to you.”

 

“You don’t share my bed and yet I still prefer you to others.”

 

“That is true, master, but as I have told you, I have special skills that you may find of value, and apart from that, you don’t have the appetites of your king.”

 

“You have a good point there and I’ll think about it, but before I can do anything, I have to track him down and that won’t be easy.”

 

“Perhaps it’ll be easier than you think, master. If you take me with you, I’ll show you one of the special skills you’ve bought with your forbearance, and if you aren’t pleased, you can take my body and fill it with your seed.”

 

Sadrin smiled and gave her another pastry to seal their bargain. Either way he was going to win.

 

*

 

The day had been one of the happiest she could remember, far better than anything from her childhood and far, far better than being a queen. They had spent it together in the small paddock with its emerald grass and colourful flowers playing silly games, almost as if they were children and free from the worries of an adult world. They had even managed to persuade Captain Tangier to join in their game of hide and seek, not that there had been many places to hide in the paddock and all three of them had ended up rolling in the grass and holding their sides with laughter.

 

When they were tired of playing games the beast had taken her exploring looking into the stables, barracks, kitchen and servants quarters and the few other places she had not yet discovered; only the forbidden corridor at the top of the stairs remained closed to her. They had ended the day sitting on a large rug in front of the fire in the room which must have once been a study but was now used by the beast as his day room. Much of the furniture bore claw marks and the carpet was torn in places but the fire and the thick rug made it cosy enough for her to ignore the damage.

 

Tarraquin told him about her childhood, growing up believing that she was the High Lord of Leersland’s daughter, and how shocked she had been to find out she was adopted. She also told him of her life as a rebel hiding in the forests of Leersland, but for some reason she missed out the part about her having been a queen; it just didn’t seem to be the right time for such a revelation. As usual the beast said very little. Although his speech improved day by day, he remembered very little of his time before the enchantment and his past was closed to him.

 

When he began to doze in front of the fire she covered him with a blanket knowing that he would be comfortable there until the fire burnt down. She quietly left the room and went up the stairs intending to go to her own sleeping rooms, but stopped where the two corridors met. The corridor to her own rooms was lit by candles in decorative wall brackets, but it was the dark, silent corridor which beckoned her on. She was certain that there would be something along the forbidden corridor which would give her a clue to the beast’s past, and if she could find out who he was, then perhaps she could be of more help to him.

 

Being careful not to make a sound which might wake the beast or bring the servants, she crept along the silent passageway until she reached the single door at its end. The door, made of black ebon wood, was taller than any other she had seen in other parts of the lodge and was intricately carved with the likeness of the stone monsters and raptors which had guarded the prison’s walls. Had it been her fist night in the lodge she wouldn’t have dared to touch the door, but since the stone monsters had gone and the raptors had flown away, she didn’t think that their carved images in the wooden door would hurt her.

 

Tarraquin reached out and touched the door, pushing gently on one side and smiled to herself in satisfaction as the door slowly opened. She had expected the door to lead to another corridor with rooms leading off it, but instead, there was one huge room with a vaulted ceiling and supporting pillars. It reminded her of the throne room in Leersland’s fortress, only about a quarter of the size. From the centre of the vaulted ceiling hung the strangest lamp she had ever seen. There didn’t seem to be anything alight inside of it, yet its many faces sent a gentle glow across the chamber giving just enough light to see by, but still keeping most of the room in shadow.

 

One half of the room resembled a normal sleeping room with a large bed in one corner, draped with heavy curtains. There was the usual dresser that men had in their rooms, but little else. She wandered over to the dresser and gently fingered the silver backed brushes and combs. Long grey hair was caught between the bristles, but otherwise, they could have belonged to any wealthy young man.

 

Like the other rooms in the lodge, the one thing which was missing was a mirror. On the other side of the chamber there was a row of thin objects covered in blankets leaning against the wall and as she walked towards them the light from the central lamp reflected off a corner of one where the blanket had come untied. If nothing else came of her exploration, she had at least solved the mystery of the missing mirrors, although why they were all here and covered up was still a puzzle.

 

Curiously there were no windows in the room and only the one chair, a large mound of a thing big enough to take the twisted form of the beast and covered in torn brown leather with horsehair stuffing poking out of the rips. In front of it stood a three legged table and on the table stood a delicate tree, two hands high and made of bronze and silver. Five tiny, silver leaves hung from its delicate branches and on the table, at the foot of the tree, lay a scatter of fallen leaves. At one time they must have hung from the tree but they were now curled and tipped with bronze.

 

They looked so delicate that she thought the slightest breath would have turned them to dust. She moved closer to study the strange creation, fascinated by its delicacy and the way that the light made it look almost alive. Tarraquin reached out to touch one of the silver leaves which still hung from the bronze tree but stopped, as from behind her, a terrifying scream of anger froze her in place.

 

“How dare you come here! You told no, this place mine, it forbidden to you!” The beast bounded across the room throwing himself between her and the tree and knocking her to the floor. It stood over her with its fangs bared and its eyes as red as a demon’s. “I say no come, this place for me only.”

 

“Why?” she cried, tears of fright and hurt filling her eyes. “I only came in here because I wanted to help you.”

 

“This enchanted place, you go now!”

 

She shuffled backwards away from his menacing presence, scrambled to her feet and ran from the room. The beast stared after her, its breath coming in ragged gasps as the deep rumbling growl slowly subsided. When his breathing had returned to normal and his vision was no longer distorted by anger he climbed onto the ragged chair and stared at the bronze tree as one tiny, silver leaf fell to the ground.

 

When the sun rose over the walls and filled the rooms with bright morning light, the beast had still not appeared, making breakfast without his company a dreary affair. Tarraquin toyed with the small loaf of bread on her plate, pushing it from one side to the other, or nibbling an edge and spreading crumbs around her. When she had finished picking at her bread, she took some cheese and then spent half a candle length cutting it into tiny squares which were hardly bigger than the scattered crumbs of her uneaten loaf. She had not slept well, spending half the night crying and feeling sorry for herself and half the night being angry and feeling badly treated.

 

Now she just felt miserable; being a prisoner had been difficult when she had been alone and having the beast for company had become better than nothing. Now she was back to where she had started or even worse; at least then she had expected to be alone, but now she had become used to having him around and doing things to please her. If only he would come out of his room, she could tell him she was sorry and perhaps they could go back to how they had been. That wasn’t going to happen though as Captain Tangier had told her that his master would be remaining in his room for the rest of that day and all his meals would be served there.

 

She was bored being on her own and would have liked to have asked the Captain if she could at least speak to the beast, but he had given her such a look of disapproval, when he had delivered the message, that her courage had failed her. Aimlessly she wandered to the window and sat watching the breeze ripple the grass in the small paddock like waves on a river. She thought about the days when she had been a queen and berated herself for giving them up so easily. So engrossed was she in her own thoughts that she didn’t hear the servants enter the room and clean up the scattered remains of her breakfast, or later, when Captain Tangier entered the room.

 

When he spoke she jumped in surprise. “I’m sorry to startle you, My Lady but there’s a man at the gate who says he has a message for you. He claims that he comes with the permission of the evil sorcerer who laid this spell on my master and this place, and as nothing has tried to prevent his approach, I must believe what he says is true. If you wish to hear what he has to say and speak to him, my master has given you permission to do so, as long as I’m present.”

 

The thought of being able to speak to someone from outside her prison, especially if it was someone she knew from her previous existence, made her smile in anticipation. She jumped up so quickly that she knocked her chair over behind her. “Yes, Captain, I would like to speak with him. Who is it? Did he give a name? Is it Jarrul returned to take my place?”

 

“My Lady, he says his name is Captain Malingar.”

 

She frowned in puzzlement; of all the people she might have expected, the captain was not one of them. “May I speak to the captain in here or must I talk to him through the bars of the gate?”

 

“If he has the sorcerer’s permission then he may enter but my master won’t permit him to come into the lodge. However, if you wish, you may use my quarters.”

 

“Thank you, captain that is kind of you.”

 

He bowed briefly and offered his arm, leading her out of the lodge and across to the low building at the end of the barracks close to the gate. There was a strong temptation for her to snatch a quick glance at the gate, just to make sure Malingar was there and this wasn’t a trick, but the captain might think she didn’t trust him. As he was now the closest thing she had to a friend in this place, she resisted the temptation, and kept her eyes steadily in front of her.

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