VirtualDesire (21 page)

“When was the last time we met?” he asked. “Ah, yes. London.
I thought you were…what is that word you Yanks use? Perky?”

“Perk you.”

He threw back his head and roared with laughter, then just
as suddenly sobered. “I want to know how you did it. Did the game creator show
you how to get into the game?”

“Let me go and I’ll tell you.”

“Not a chance.” He did ease his pressure on her throat a
bit, and she sucked in a deep breath. “Now, I want every detail, and quickly.
I’ve other places to be and other things to do.”

“I can’t really tell you anything. I was playing around in
the game booth and I woke up here.”

“Here?”

She knew instantly she’d made some error. “Well, not here.
On some mountain somewhere.” Was that vague enough? What if she was giving him
some key to wreaking more havoc?

“Nilrem’s mountain.” He nodded. “Go on.”

“That’s it.”

“That’s not bloody all of it. How’d you get to the
fortress?”

“Oh. I just walked, and then I found this settlement of
Selaw. They were pretty suspicious of me, but then Ardra came along and said
she needed to buy some slaves to get home, and they were perfectly happy to
sell me…”

A sudden, bright flash of lightning illuminated the room in
stark black and white; thunder cracked almost immediately. The scent of a smoky
fire filled the air.

“What were you doing in this part of the fortress?”

“Looking for Ardra.”

He seemed satisfied with the answer. “Does Ardra know you’re
a woman?”

What should she say? “I-I-I don’t know. She looks at me
funny sometimes, but hasn’t accused me of cross-dressing yet.”

He grinned. “Perhaps you will be entertaining after all.”

“Will you let me up? Jeez. I could be on your side, you
know.”

“My sjde? Are there sides?” As if in answer, another roll of
thunder sounded outside.

“Sure, your side and everyone else’s.” She smiled, waiting
for his reaction, and her stomach clenched.

In a sweep of his amber robes, Gary released her. He pulled
on her chain until she had to crawl to the foot of the bed.

“Did you invent the game gear just to travel to Tolemac?”
she asked.

“Tolemac? I have never been so privileged as to make it to
Tolemac. This,” he swept his hand out to encompass the stone walls with their
narrow arrow slits, “is the closest I’ve come.”

“Then did you invent the gear to travel here?” She pulled
the tattered edges of her tunic together across her chest.

“No, that I cannot claim.” He strode to the girl who still
huddled silently in the corner. “But as I have stated in many of my seminars,
there are advantages to using what providence places in your lap.” The girl
cowered away as he stroked the back of his fingers down her cheek.

Why did he speak so freely before the girl? A terrible,
stomach-churning thought came to Gwen—perhaps he spoke so freely because he
knew his words were destined to remain in this room forever. Maybe he intended
to kill one or both of them. Or maybe, he planned on just cutting out their
tongues.

Vad could not remain still. He wandered in and out of the
stone corridors until he knew many of them by heart. Every now and then he had
to lean against the wall as a wave of dizziness overcame him. Heat and cold
alternately shook his body. He had thought the heat was just from his proximity
to Gwen, but now he knew the truth of her words—he was ill.

The Selaw must have tipped their arrows with a slow poison.
He laughed. If they had chosen a quick one, he would be dead. His laughter
mocked him as it echoed along the damp stone walls surrounding him.

What a failure he was, a man without honor, about to go into
battle against an unknown foe without his sword. He touched the hilt of his
dagger. There was no need to look at the stone handle. He knew the color was
dimming, graying, along with his strength.

He found the thundering falls in a grotto so huge, he could
not see the sides or ceiling, only the river running through it and ending in a
sudden drop into blackness. The bottomless pit.

The scant light of his torch gave little illumination to
inspect the grotto as he stood among the dripstones, not translucent with color
here, but glossy black rocks, crusted with ice where the water spray coated
them. The chamber was cold. And yet there was a peace here amid the roar of the
water and the sparkles of frost. He felt no evil, no sense of danger.

Quickly, conscious he was wasting time and his strength, he
retraced his steps to the pool. He readied his bow, selecting the straightest
of arrows, impatient for Ardra’s return and news of the potion’s effect. When
no other preparations were necessary, he sat with his back to the rocky wall
and leaned his head back. He closed his eyes.

Fever coursed through his body, and he prayed he would be
strong enough to make it to Tolemac when the last maiden was released. Silently
he repeated the names of the ancient gods, their consorts, their powers, the
seasons, the days of each season, the names of the present councilors, the
names of the past ones. Anything to keep the fever from possessing his mind.

A scent of summer flowers interrupted his recitation. He
opened his eyes. Gwen stood before him. She knelt and touched her lips to his.

“I want you,” she whispered. He touched her shoulder and it
was bare. When had she removed her Selaw garb? Her smooth, cool hands soothed his
brow, drew his head to rest on the soft cushion of her breast. His body was
ready for her. The caress of her tongue on his throat swept his doubts away.
She skimmed her fingers down his chest and plucked at the lacing over his
manhood. He groaned.

“Vad?”

He was startled awake and shot to his feet. Ardra stood
before him, a torch held high—not Gwen. The sense of loss was intense. His head
ached. So did his loins. “Is the potion delivered?” he asked to cover his
confusion.

The torchlight wavered as she shook her head and bit her
lip.

“Why not?” he bit out.

“Gwen…she has been taken by Narfrom.”

He turned away. All his awareness training vanished like
mist over water. His heart plunged into his guts like the river over the falls.
How could he have let her go alone to see to the wine? His throat ached as he
spoke. “Has she been harmed?”

“Nay, but according to my father, Narfrom knew her name and
said she was from his land. My father is furious with me that I should have
purchased a slave who may have a treacherous heart.”

“Who says her heart is treacherous?” Why did he feel so cold
at her words? Narfrom was from Gwen’s land? The implications were staggering.

Ardra placed a hand on his sleeve. “Is it possible she is
not what we think she is?”

“And what do we think she is? Naught but a woman who has
been brought to our lands against her will.”

“But now she has Narfrom. If he is of her people—”

“What are you saying?”

“Would she not cling to her own kind if she found such a
person? Would you not do the same in her place? And what did she do with your
potion? When I went to tell her which were the funeral casks of wine, she was
gone. That was when I discovered she was with Narfrom, but my father made no
mention of finding the potion. Now your plans are all for naught, and the
potion is gone.”

Once Narfrom had gone, Gwen tried to coax some information
from the Selaw maiden, or at least try to get her to come back to the bed. It
took long moments to get even a murmur from her. “How long ‘til he’s back, do
you think?” she finally asked.

“Do you speak his language?” the maiden whispered from her
corner.

“Oh, sure. We’re buds, don’t you know.” She smiled to
reassure the girl. “I do not suppose you know of a way out of here?” she
finished, making sure to imitate the Brit accent.

The girl came close, climbing gingerly onto the bed to
crouch by Gwen’s side. “We are doomed.”

“Great. I am chained to a wall with a pessimist.”

“I am Senga, daughter of Ranoc, a Tolemac councilor.”

“Nice to meet you. Now, who has the keys to these chains?”

“Narfrom. He comes with a serving woman to release me each
time I eat and need to relieve myself.”

“You had to say that, didn’t you?” Gwen muttered. All it
took was the suggestion and she needed to go. She took a deep breath. “That
won’t do.” She jerked on her chains. “Maybe we can pull these out of the wall.”

Senga made no move when Gwen got on her knees and tugged at
the chains, except to repeat her prophecy of doom.

Gwen frowned. “Now, why take that attitude? We’ll escape.”

“Nay. You are now a prisoner. There are now eight of us—the
sacred number. It is all that was needed—one more maiden to complete the
circle. Now we shall all die.” Tears appeared in her soft blue eyes. They
rolled silently down her thin cheeks.

Gwen wiped away her tears with her fingertips. “No, Senga,
there are still only seven maidens in the fortress.” She thought of the dream
of Vad’s body moving over hers. “I am definitely not a maiden. I have been well
and truly bedded.”

But Senga shook her head. “You do not understand. There is
more to maidenhood than whether you have lain with a man. I sense it in you, in
the look in your eyes, the way you spoke to Narfrom. It is an innocence in
here.” She touched her chest, then her forehead. “It is a purity of mind as
well.”

“Well,” Gwen said, thinking of all her meltdown imaginings
about Vad, “rest easy. My mind’s a sewer.”

Outside, the sky flickered with long forks of light, and
thunder rolled.

Gwen’s jokes didn’t even reassure herself. There was
something more than the girl’s insistence that made Gwen think, purity or not,
they were all doomed.

There was no one to put Vad’s potion in the wine.

A wave of dizziness made Vad lean on the bow he held in his
hand. If Narfrom was from Gwen’s land, had he not access to the mysterious
weapons that put men to sleep and burned holes in rock? How frail his own
weapons were against such a wonder.

He looked around at the magnificent walls of nature that had
stood for thousands of conjunctions. Could Narfrom cut his way through them
with but a single use of that mysterious weapon?

But, strange weapon or not, he had promised to rescue the
maidens. “We will continue as planned and assume Gwen was taken before she
could act. If we can get to her, she can tell us where the potion is.” He
dropped the bow and unbuckled his knife sheath. Then a thought came to him.
“Ardra. Gwen’s capture means there are now
eight
women prisoners. We
cannot delay the rescue a moment longer.” Slowly and deliberately, he pulled
off his heavy woolen tunic, baring his chest.

“W-w-what are you doing?” Ardra stuttered, fluttering her
hands and backing up, tripping over her hem and sending the remaining bow and
arrows clattering to the floor in a cascading racket.

Vad buckled on his knife and slung the bow across his back.
Sweat glistened on his skin, the sweat of fever, though his mind was clear. He
spread his arms and bowed. She gave a soft sigh, her eyes riveted to his bare
chest. She licked her lips.

He gave her a grim smile. “What am I doing?” he repeated,
unable to keep bitterness from his voice. “I am merely increasing the
likelihood that the Tolemac maidens will come to me. One must use the gifts one
has.”

“We have to try to escape. Pull harder,” Gwen said to Senga.
Together they tried again to dislodge the iron pin holding their chains to the
wall.

“If you are right and we are not doomed, then should we not
just wait for a man to rescue us?” Senga asked.

“You know, there is not always going to be a man around when
you need him. You have to learn to be resourceful on your own.”

“There are always men around,” Senga said, but she heaved on
the chain. “Is not this Vad you told me about somewhere near, waiting for your
signal?”

“Exactly. He is waiting for a signal. One that is never
going to come if I do not get free. Now pull!”
And he will never trust me
again if I fail
, she said silently to herself. Gwen hauled harder on the
chains. “Damn it!” she swore, then quickly regretted the outburst as the door
creaked open.

Two sentries entered, Ruonail behind them, a ring of keys in
his hand.

“How many guards? And where?” Vad stabbed the fortress plans
on the row of chambers where Narfrom was holding Gwen.

“You still persist in going after her?” she asked.

“Did you doubt I would?”

Ardra nodded. “You do not know what awaits you. Gwen may have
told Narfrom you are coming.”

“She has no reason to do so.” He realized he must choose. He
must trust Gwen. To believe otherwise put his life and that of the maidens in
jeopardy. “I do not think she will betray our plan.”

“And if threatened with sale? Or losing her tongue?” Ardra
persisted.

“I would imagine it is her tongue that will save her. She
will talk her way out of danger.”

“I do not know what else to say,” Gwen continued. “I told
Narfrom everything.” Ruonail sat in a carved wooden chair, in his chamber, the
fire roaring, the heat stifling, an impassive expression on his face.

Ruonail shifted in his seat. “There is a gathering of
darkness outside. It began when you arrived.”

Great. Blamed for the weather.

“I most respectfully disagree.”

Ruonail sucked in his breath. “You, a mere woman, a slave,
disagree? With me?” He shot to his feet. A tremor ran through his thin body.

Gwen hastened to placate him. “I mean no disrespect. I spent
many hours with your daughter, and she told me of the strange changes in
weather, this darkness that has fallen over the fortress. It began before I
arrived.”

Gwen saw on his face an acknowledgement of her words. “What
else did my daughter confide in you, a slave?”

“Her love for you,” Gwen said softly.

Silence, save for the crackling of the fire in the hearth
and the crack of thunder outside, filled the chamber.

Narfrom strode in just as Gwen thought Ruonail was about to
speak. “All is going well. The feast is about to begin.” Then his steps slowed.
“Why is she here?”

“I wanted to know more of her, of her land—and yours.”

“We have no time. You must put in an appearance, as we
discussed, warn the rest of them what befalls a person who dares turn against
one of your family.”

“Aye. I must offer a warning.” Ruonail’s shoulders seemed
bowed with an invisible burden as he left the chamber.

When he reached the door, Narfrom stopped him. “Ruonail, we
have no time to ascertain this slave’s true loyalty. I want to put her to the
test.”

Ruonail nodded. “It would swiftly end the matter.”

When Ruonail was gone, Narfrom pulled a woolen gown from a
coffer and tossed it toward her. “So you charmed your way out of your
bracelet?” Narfrom propped himself against a table and crossed his legs at the
ankles. The casual stance did not fool Gwen. He still looked like a viper about
to strike.

She ignored the dress. “I didn’t have to use my charm.
Ruonail sent for me.” Gwen wished she were beautiful. Maybe then she could
charm someone into believing Narfrom was evil. “May I ask you what you want in
this world?”

“Everything.”

“But you have quite a bit of everything in our world, don’t
you?”

He gave a bitter laugh. “Ah, our world. Too many competitors
for the power and wealth. Here I will rule. And when it bores me to do so, I
shall simply take a little tax-free wealth home with me.”

“I thought the Selaw were just recovering from starvation.”

“But their future is so rosy.” He leaned so close she could
feel his breath on her cheek, and gave a quick bark of laughter. “One of the
dead men, Enec, he worked for me. He was a…spy of sorts. Did you know the
Tolemac councilors have been camping for weeks at our borders to negotiate a
lifemating for their head councilor?”

The way he so easily said
our
borders told her he had
come to think of Selaw as his.

“Enec’s angelic face allowed him to insinuate himself quite
easily in many beds—Tolemac slave beds. The male slaves were happy to help him
access the maidens and the females—they talk.”

“So what? What can they tell you? How many ice cubes fit in
a wagon?” Ardra would be heartbroken to know of Enec’s part in the kidnapping
of the maidens.

Narfrom laughed. “You are cheeky. No, this time the slaves
told him some very interesting tales of a famous warrior who is seeking a
fortune.”

A cold, sick feeling spread through Gwen. Had Enec guessed
who Vad was from the first moment they’d met?

Vad studied Ardra’s plan of the fortress. The corridor of
chambers in which Gwen and the maidens were being held ran east and west. Each
end of the corridor had a set of spiral steps linking it to the great hall.