Cethe (46 page)

corresponding plumpness of pocket, we’re simply moments of amusement.”

“I’m going to be il ,” Michael said.

It was late when the smal party broke up. Outside, the rain had stopped, but the air was heavy with damp.

“Can I give you a ride?” asked Auron as his carriage pul ed up to the steps.

Michael shook his head, pul ing on his gloves. “Thanks, but my hotel isn’t far from here. I could use a good walk to clear the

cobwebs.”

With a wave, his friend was off. Michael watched him go, then turned and started home.

He should at least send another note to the castle, informing Severyn of his intentions. It was only courteous. Most likely, the

prince would be relieved to have him on the other side of Tanyrin.

Loth! It was scalding, the memory of that kiss, and it had torn up his peace badly. He’d dreamed of just such a moment since

his early adolescence, but he’d never once expected it, never imagined it to come true.

Maybe Severyn just needed time to come to terms with what happened. Time and distance would do them both good.

“Lord Arranz?”

Startled, Michael looked around. A trio of horsemen emerged from the fog, Hunters and among them, none other than Captain

Remy. The captain pul ed away from his companions, trotting over to the sidewalk. Michael stopped, waiting curiously for him to

dismount.

“I thought it was you,” Remy greeted him.

Michael inclined his head slightly. “On patrol, captain?”

“Returning from a musical,” the captain replied. “And yourself?”

“Cards.”

“I hope it was a successful evening. Do you have rooms nearby? It’s dangerous to be walking about the city at this hour,

alone.” The captain looked up and down the empty street. “But then, I suppose one would have to be foolhardy indeed to attack

you.”

“I would hope to give a good account of myself, should anyone be so foolhardy. Fortunately, this is a peaceful neighborhood

and I’ve had no trouble.”

“Then you are fortunate, sir. Not a week ago a man was robbed on this very corner! Al ow us to accompany you to your door,

my lord.”

Michael could think of no good reason to refuse. It was less than a quarter mile on anyway. He asked, “What news do you

have of His Eminence?”

“The Archbishop is traveling, visiting his Cathedrals and Abbeys as he does every spring. What of yourself, Lord Arranz? Do

you plan to spend much longer in Lothmont or wil you retire to your estate once the warm weather arrives?”

Michael gave him a noncommittal answer and they made idle conversation until they reached the hotel. Bidding him a

pleasant evening, Remy and his companions rode off. A sleepy doorman opened the doors at Michael’s pul of the bel , then locked

them careful y after him. Michael remained there, watching through the lace curtains until the Hunters were swal owed up by the

misty night. Then, inexplicably unsettled by the encounter, he went upstairs.

He had no more time than to open the door to his suite before bodies hit him from three directions. He went down hard,

banging his head against the floor. For precious moments, he was insensible. When his wits returned, he was on his bel y, hands

bound behind him. His first impulse was to use a spel to free himself, but something stayed his words. There was a buzzing in the

back of his head. The next moment, he was hauled roughly to his feet and he saw why.

Someone uncovered a lantern. Men in rough, nondescript clothing pressed al around him, but in the far corner of the room,

one of their number stared at Michael with a fixed, blank gaze, his lips moving ceaselessly, as if praying. Around his neck was held

the distinctive amulet of a knightmage.

One of the strangers suddenly lifted a hand and everyone went stil . Outside his door, Michael heard voices, then someone

knocked. “Lord Arranz? Lord Arranz? What’s going on in there? Are you al right, my lord?”

Michael threw himself back, trying to pul free of the hands gripping him.

“Get him out of here,” snarled one of the men, looking toward the glass doors leading to the suite’s smal balcony.

These were no ordinary robbers; not with a mage! Michael struggled wildly, digging in his heels and throwing himself this way

and that, fighting to keep from being pul ed from the room. Without the ability to articulate Words, what little k’na he stil possessed

remained out of reach.

On the balcony, rain hit Michael in the face. There were horsemen waiting on the street beneath. One of his captors dragged

his head back and forced open his jaws, shoving in a wad of cloth. The gag was tied fast with a strip of cloth. They lifted Michael off

his feet and tossed him out into the dark.

Invisible hands caught him before he could hit the ground. A short distance away, the shadowy bulk of a carriage waited. Stil

resisting, Michael was hustled to it. The door opened. They threw him in, uncaring that he was sent sprawling the length of the wet,

dirty floor. The door slammed and, a moment later, the carriage lurched and started forward at a good clip. A hand reached down,

helping him as he struggled to sit up. Furious and more than a little frightened, Michael shook hair from his eyes as they adjusted to

the cabin’s gloom. When the voice came, he recognized the voice at once.

“My apologies for the rough handling, my lord.” Adrian Remy leaned across the aisle and tugged at Michael’s gag, testing it.

Michael jerked his head back, furious. “One hears rumors about the Dukes of Arranz and their witcheries. I, personal y, don’t think

you would be so depraved, but my superiors insisted I take precautions, so I — Now, now, my lord!”

Remy’s sword appeared, the tip resting lightly on Michael’s chest, stopping him from lunging at the Hunter. “Please! The

Church of Loth has no intention of doing you harm. Just do as we ask and this wil al be over before you know it.”

Bound and gagged, Michael could do nothing except take Remy’s advice. He sat, rigid, working at his gag whenever the

Hunter wasn’t looking.

When the carriage final y stopped, Michael was dragged back out into the rain. Hunters were al around him. They didn’t give

him long to get his bearings, but shoved him across littered, broken pavement and into a place smel ing of mold, urine, and wood-rot.

The tenement had been long abandoned: plaster crumbled, ceilings col apsed, floors creaked ominously underfoot. Only

squatters came here now, leaving behind heaps of filth and rubbish. At the back of the building, wel away from the street, more

Hunters waited. Michael was forced through their jeers and shoving, down a stinking corridor and into another of the filthy, crumbling

rooms. The door slammed behind him, muffling raucous laughter.

There were others in this room, too, but Michael did not notice them at first. His attention was drawn immediately to the

enormous bed. It was a magnificent piece of furniture with elaborately carved posters tal er than a man. The deep mattress was

heaped high with furs, pil ows and coverlets of rich, shimmering fabrics. Heavy silver candlesticks held wax tapers on smal night

stands to either side of it. Such an incongruous sight in this wretched place left Michael momentarily stunned.

It was several moments before he noticed a slip of a girl, scarcely older than sixteen, who waited beside the bed. She was

dressed in a frothy nightgown of gauze and lace, the sheer fabrics giving hints of the slim, gently curved figure beneath. Hair almost

as pale as his tumbled over her shoulders, held back from her thin, pretty face by a delicate circlet of gold.

The room had two other pieces of quality furniture, a pair of satin-upholstered, wing-backed chairs. In one sat a young Dragon

cadet, floridly handsome, who regarded Michael with disdain. He wore a conspicuous mage’s amulet on a chain around his neck

which he fingered constantly as he stared. Michael turned on Remy, glaring his incredulity.

Remy laughed. He reached into his coat and pul ed out a long envelope. It contained a piece of heavy, folded paper.

Flattening it out, the captain obligingly held it up so Michael could see it. Ornate lettering spel ed out what he had already

suspected. It was a marriage license.

“Behold your bride,” said Remy, jerking a thumb toward the silent child in the negligee. “I think her name is Piety.”

Michael, stunned, looked from her stil face to Remy’s mocking smile.

“Once you’ve consummated your union,” the Hunter continued, “you and your lovely lady may depart.”

Perversely, laughter bubbled up behind the gag, choking Michael. He shook his head in disbelief. Remy’s own smile didn’t

waver, but his gaze hardened. Raising his voice slightly, he said, “I’m going to remove the gag, Merriweather. Are you ready?”

The youth in the chair shifted to alertness. “Yes, sir!”

“He is one of our best acolytes,” Remy said to Michael. “This is something of an end-of-term examination for him.” He strol ed

around to untie the gag. With a shake of his head, Michael spat out the cloth. Even as he did so, he felt his throat go numb. His

mouth was dry as dust.

“Girl!” Remy beckoned and she came at once. Her gaze darted to Michael and away, but not before he saw loathing and

misery. Tears trembled on her long, thick eyelashes.

The muscles in Michael’s throat strained, but nothing came out. Something held them frozen and his gaze flew to the youth

with the amulet. Merriweather’s lips moved rapidly and he clutched his amulet in both hands.

“I’d leave you two alone,” Remy said with false regret, “but His Eminence wishes witnesses to the consummation.”

At a motion from him, the girl approached Michael and took his arm. To her, Remy said, “Don’t untie him.”

“My lord,” she whispered obediently.

Remy paused and took her chin in her hand. “It’s al right, Piety. Your sacrifice has been noticed by the Archbishop himself. Do

your duty and be blessed in the eyes of both Loth and His Eminence.”

There was nothing pious in the look she turned on Michael. “Come, my lord,” she said to him. “Let us to bed.”

Michael pul ed free. This was ludicrous! Did they real y expect him to lie with this child while they watched? When she tried

again to take his arm, he refused, his look so fierce, she shrank in real apprehension.

Final y, Remy threatened to have the guards brought in to forcibly strip him. “Do not make this harder than it needs to be, my

lord,” he snarled. “I am no more enamored of this foul place than you! Surely you’ve bedded whores often enough. Just think of her

as another such.”

Michael had no other choice then but to let her guide him to the bed and sit down upon it. He tugged at the chains binding him,

but they were good steel and impossible to break. Quickly, she set to undressing him. His brief stir of amusement earlier was long

gone. Furious and humiliated, he tried not to look at the two men watching in the far corner of the room. Instead, he fought to find

some flicker of desire for the pretty, but unsettling girl who quickly shed her own frothy garments and climbed on top of him.

Alas, al her caresses, her writhing and moaning had no effect on him. Even when she bent and took his cock in her mouth, his

desire refused to stir. In desperation, Michael tried to imagine she was Stefn, but nothing helped. Her attentions grew rougher as

she began to realize she could not arouse him. Final y, he swore, twisting and rol ing away from her.

Bursting into tears, the girl crawled across the mattress after him. He shook her off again, lurching from the bed, determined to

end this idiocy.

“Enough!” Remy’s voice made her flinch back. The captain rose from his chair and strode across the room to them. Grabbing

her slender arm, he pul ed her away. “This is getting us nowhere. Go back to your place and stay there. No! Don’t say a word, bitch,

or I’l kil you.”

Sobbing into her hands, the girl withdrew to the other side of the mattress. Remy pul ed a dagger from his belt and walked

around the bed. Michael had never felt so vulnerable, bound and dressed only in his unbuttoned shirt.

The Hunter captain stood inches from him. Lifting his blade, he held it to Michael’s throat. “Is it possible women have no

attraction for you, my lord? Do you truly have the blood of the naragi in your cursed veins? If so, we are just in time.”

The tip of the blade scratched Michael’s neck. Remy’s mouth was inches from his. “Shal we see if we can bring you to the