Authors: J. V. Jones
He led the men on
a fine chase, heading for the most dense part of the forest, knowing that it
would be his only chance of escape. As he ran, he heard the leader call to
spread out. They were gaining on him. Jack hurled himself onward, trees and
bushes becoming dim blurs. One thought consumed his mind: he must escape. One
of the riders drew abreast of Jack and another was at his heels. He tried to
swerve away, running for a narrow gap between two trees. He felt the net
descend upon him. The nearest rider had thrown a webbed rope over him, and his
feet became tangled in it. He fell to the ground, still struggling forward,
trying to free himself. Frantic, he worked to free his legs, pulling hard at
the coarse rope. Just as he had managed to kick himself free, the armed men
descended upon him. They had dismounted and were braridishing spear and sword.
"Don't move,
boy," warned the leader, "or you'll feel a spear through your
leg." Jack froze on the spot. "I can see you're a smart one. Bind him
up, boys. I'm taking no chances this time." Two of the armed men
approached Jack, one of them aiming a violent kick at his kidneys.
"Steady on,
boys, we wouldn't want to do anything that would upset Lord Baralis." The
men looked suitably cowed. "Besides, if we bring him back in good shape,
we might get a bonus. Lord Baralis ain't expecting us to find the boy. I reckon
it'll be extra gold all around." The leader surveyed his men. "So
let's not blow it by roughing the lad up, all right?"
Jack was doubled
up with pain; the kick had been well placed. The two men bound his wrists and
ankles with leather strips, pulling the bindings so tight that Jack winced as
they snagged his skin.
"Throw him
over the back of the extra mare, and make sure he can't wriggle off. We've got
a long ride ahead of us, and I don't want him going anywhere." Jack was
slung over a large horse and bound to it with thick rope.
"Are we going
to head back to the castle, Traff, or find the girl?" asked another of the
men.
Traff, the leader,
considered for a moment. "We go on and find the girl." The men
mounted their horses, and with Jack as their captive, rode on into the forest
heading southeast.
Maybor had just
enjoyed a glass of lobanfern red as was his habit before dressing for a big
occasion. He was a little worried as to why the queen had requested an audience
with him the following day, but he told himself it was probably to establish a
specific day for the betrothal. Time was becoming short. He must have his
daughter found in the next day or so, or all would be lost.
The first effects
of the sweet wine were beginning to make themselves felt and Maybor turned his
thoughts to less worrying details. What would he wear? The queen and all the
highest nobles would be in attendance at the dance, so he must look his most
magnificent. His mind sorted through his wardrobe. It must be something red, he
thought. But more than red, it must have gold embroidery and tassels and
jewels. His wealth would be the envy of the court on this auspicious night.
"Crandle!"
he shouted to his latest servant. The meek Crandle entered the room of the
great lord.
"Yes, my
lord."
"Fetch me my
robe. I would dress for this evening."
"Which one,
lord?"
"The red with
the golden embroidery and the pearls. I would look like a king on this fair
eve." Crandle went off to find the robe in question. Some minutes later,
he returned with the requested robe in one hand and a dead rat in the other.
"What is
this!" boomed Maybor, motioning to the rat. "I'm sorry, sir. I don't
know how it got into your wardrobe, but it seems to have died before it did any
harm." Maybor was not at all pleased with the idea of a rat, dead or
otherwise, in his precious wardrobe.
"You
fool!" He searched his mind for a suitably threatening punishment.
"If this happens again, I will have your ears torn off." His servant
looked acceptably contrite, and Maybor regained some of his good humor.
"Very well, Crandle, help me dress. I don't think I'll bother
bathing--that sort of beautification is for dandies and priests."
The servant helped
Maybor from his robes. "Be careful, you idiot!" cried Maybor as
Crandle accidentally stepped on his foot. "Or I will have your toes pulled
off as well as your ears."
Melli was once
again being laced into the tight, red dress. She was not at all pleased when
the sallow-faced Keddi gave the lacings one last strong pull, for it had the
effect of pushing her breasts up so high she was sure if she as much as
breathed deeply they would pop out.
"Keddi, what
has become of my own dress?" she demanded.
"Mistress
Greal said to throw it out, said as she didn't want you wearing no drab,
cover-up dress while you were here."
"Keddi, I
will not be here past today. I fully intend on leaving this town tomorrow and I
will leave it wearing my own dress. Now run along and find it for me." The
girl rushed out, and some minutes later Mistress Greal entered the room.
"Your old
dress has been torn apart for rags. You've got no choice but to wear this one.
If you're a good girl, I might see to buying you a new one at some point."
The woman circled the indignant Melli. "I must say, though, I'd be
inclined to get you another red. Shows your skin up just right. Men like
nothing better than pale, creamy skin."
"Mistress
Greal, I have no wish to cater to the taste of men. You are somewhat mistaken
in your belief that I will be staying here. I must tell you now, I will be
leaving in the morning." Mistress Greal did not seem concerned by Melli's
outburst.
She moved close to
Melli adjusting her hair and dress. "You could do with a little rouge,
though, deary. Your cheeks are too pale." With that she pinched Melli's
cheeks hard. "There, that'll do the job for now."
"How dare you
pinch me!" Melli attempted to slap Mistress Greal, but she was not fast
enough. The woman caught Melli's arm.
"Come, come,
deary, there's no need for this. Let us adjourn for a sup, it'll calm your
nerves. You're far too highly strung if you ask me."
"I will not
go and sit in that wretched tavern again." Mistress Greal showed her
sharp, uneven teeth. "Come along, deary. You can't stay in your room. Keddi's
got to clean it up." She guided the reluctant Melli out of the room, and
practically forced her down to the tavern.
Once again
Mistress Greal insisted they sit at the center table. It was early evening and
the tavern was much busier than it had been when Melli was there the day
before. It seemed to Melli that as they sat down, all eyes were upon her.
Mistress Greal duly noted this and said: "See, these men appreciate a
pretty girl when they see one." She waved and greeted many of the men. "I
don't think we'll have to buy our own drinks this evening." Melli did not
know what her companion meant by that remark, until a group of several men
approached their table, one of whom she recognized as the man she had been
introduced to the day before.
"Joy to you, Mistress
Greal." Edrad bowed with exaggerated courtesy. "How are you and your
lovely companion on this fine evening?" Melli tried hard not to breathe,
for when she did so her breasts pushed out alarmingly.
"My dear girl
and I are most agreeably well, Edrad," said Mistress Greal inclining her
head graciously. "But we are a little dry."
Edrad was
immediately penitent. "Oh, please forgive me, ladies. What a thoughtless
creature I am!" Edrad called for drinks.
"My girl and
I don't care for the rough stuff, Edrad, we want the reserve."
"The reserve
it will be, then." Mistress Greal seemed well pleased. "Would you
mind if my companions and I sat a while with you charming ladies?" Melli
was alarmed to see Mistress Greal willingly agree.
"These are my
two good friends, Larkin and Lester." The two men nodded at Mistress Greal
and leered at Melli. Edrad then addressed his companions. "And this is the
admirable Mistress Greal and her lovely companion Melli of Deepwood."
"Deepwood?"
questioned the one called Larkin.
"Yes,
Deepwood. It's far south of here, isn't it, Melli?" said Edrad
mischievously.
"I've never
heard of a Deepwood," persisted Larkin. "Nonsense, it's just past
Highwood." Edrad winked slyly at Melli.
Mistress Greal
decided to move the conversation along. "Of course, you can tell my dear
Melli isn't from these parts. Who around here has such pale coloring and
perfect skin?"
"None that
I've ever seen, Mistress Greal," replied Edrad, giving Melli's bosom an
admiring look.
"Nor I,"
agreed Larkin. The one called Lester chose not to speak.
A short time later
the drinks arrived, and Melli was glad to have something to divert attention
away from herself. She took a deep and unladylike swig of ale. Mistress Greal
gave her a warning glance.
"The reserve
is strong stuff, Melli. Seeing as you're not used to ale, I would go
easy." Melli found a small pleasure in deliberately ignoring the woman's
words and taking another deep drink. The action may have displeased Mistress
Greal, but it drew cries of pleasure from the men.
"There's a
girl!" cried Edrad. "They obviously teach women how to drink like men
in Deepwood." Melli could not help but smile. The strong ale was making
her feel light-headed, and she was beginning to wonder why she complained
against coming to sit in such a pleasant place. Seeing Melli smile, the men
smiled, and seeing the men smile, Mistress Greal smiled.
After a while,
Melli began to feel decidedly merry. She laughed at the jokes made by Edrad and
Larkin at Lester's expense, and downed more of the reserve. She caught Edrad
and Mistress Greal exchanging glances and saw the woman's barely perceptible
nod. "You know what you need, my dear?" she said.
"No, what do
I need, Mistress Greal?" replied Melli. "You need a little fresh air.
A short walk to cool your face and clear your head." The idea of a walk in
the cool, early evening was most appealing to Melli, who was feeling a little
flushed and warm. She nodded enthusiastically.
"Will you
accompany us, Edrad?" asked Mistress Greal casually.
"It would be
my distinct honor." He bowed, and offered her and Melli an arm. The party
of three walked to the door, to the great interest of the other tavern
drinkers, and left.
The evening was
refreshingly cool after the heat of the tavern. Melli stumbled slightly, finding
it difficult to walk straight. The strong arm of Edrad steadied her. After they
had walked a short while, Mistress Greal spoke up, "If you two will excuse
me, I must pop back to the tavem for my wrap. I seem to have forgotten it. I'll
only be an instant." With that she was off.
Edrad took this
opportunity to steer Melli toward the stables, and it .seemed like a good idea
to her. "I'll be able to check on my horse," she said. Edrad smiled
and nodded, and guided her into the darkened interior. He then led Melli toward
an even darker corner. "I don't think my horse is here," commented
Melli, her speech slurring slightly.
"We'll see
your horse later," said Edrad as he guided Melli against a wall. He began
moving his hand up from her arm to her breast. He leaned forward and pressed
his lips against hers. Melli was feeling confused and light-headed. She
reluctantly agreed to the kiss, and soon found Edrad's tongue in her mouth. The
next thing she felt was his hand squeezing her breast.
"Oh, you're
such a lovely one," he murmured as he bent to kiss her breast. Melli was
beginning to feel that this wasn't very nice, but her head was lazy with ale
and her reactions seemed slow. She was backed up against the wall and Edrad was
slavering over her breasts. She felt his warm hand reach under her skirt. Melli
was beginning to feel a little panicky: kissing was one thing, but a hand under
her skirt was quite another.
Fleetingly she
remembered the armed men who had tom her dress. It occurred to her fuddled
brain that Edrad was no better than those men. She felt his hand move toward
her thigh. She decided she would tolerate this invasion no longer. With all the
strength in her body, she raised her knee and violently slammed it into Edrad's
groin. Edrad immediately fell back onto the floor murmuring cries of,
"Bitch!" and clutching his vitals.
Melli had not
expected her blow to be so effective. He seemed unable to retaliate in any way.
Pleased with herself, but still confused by drink, she wondered what to do
next. She had the distinct feeling Mistress Greal would not be too happy with
her. Melli decided that since she was in the stable, she would get her horse
and leave. She would even take a saddle-she had no intention of returning to
the tavern, so they could keep her possessions as payment for it.
Melli walked past
the groaning Edrad and wondered why he was still doubled up and obviously in
great pain. Rather merrily she hurried on to find her horse.
After much
fumbling in the dark, she located her horse. It seemed pleased to see her and
whinnied softly. Melli searched, found rather a nice saddle, and placed it on
her horse's back, not concerned too much with fit. She then led her horse out
of the stable and, after a few tries, somehow managed to mount him, despite
feeling rather dizzy.
She rode as
quietly as she could out of town. Before long, however, both her head and her
stomach began to feel very unsteady, and she realized she could go on no
longer.
She guided her
horse off the track and managed to find a quiet glade out of sight of the road.
Dismounting from her horse, she threw up in the bushes, and fell asleep on the
cold ground.
The great banquet
hall was aglow with the light of a thousand candles. The walls were strung with
garlands of sweetsmelling winter flowers, and countless silk ribbons hung from
the rafters.