“It was Andor did that! He made me steal horses, too!”
“Well, I’m very grateful for all your help and your loyalty.”
For a moment he just stood there, staring dumbly at her, and she actually saw the shiny gems of perspiration appear on his forehead. Then he blushed scarlet and looked down at his feet.
“My duty, Majesty.”
So the danger was past. Oh, poor Rap!
“The first thing we have to do is to think how to get you out of here,” she said. “You hid in the top chamber, I suppose? Rap, I do so want to hear how you worked all these miracles! But first we must get you to a safe place.”
“There isn’t one,” he said somberly. “That bolt won’t stop a couple of thousand imps, and they’ll be coming soon. I’d better just turn us in, me and Little Chicken. If they put off the execution until the jotnar get here, then Kalkor may pardon us. Maybe.”
Inos clenched her fists. “There has to be a better idea than that! Aunt Kade?”
“I don’t know, dear.” Her aunt was leaning back on the sofa, looking old and bedraggled and utterly weary. “I managed to ruin your reputation, but I think I agree with Master Rap—it won’t hold for very long.”
“Rap, who is Little Chicken? A friend?”
“He’s my slave.” Rap was turning pink again. “And he won’t let me free him.”
Slave? Torture? “How did you… Why not, for Gods' sake?”
Rap had never been much of a man for smiles, but once in a while he had been known to indulge a sort of shy grin, and momentarily that showed now. Strangely she discovered that it was the most welcome thing she had seen all day.
“Because he wants to kill me. It’s quite a complicated story.”
“It must be!” But it would have to wait. Inos looked down at the prisoner, Darad. Had she been going to marry this? She shuddered again. “And this horror is Andor?”
“I don’t know. He changes into Andor, or Andor into him. And I think they’re Sagorn and Jalon the minstrel, too.”
“Sagorn?” she said. “That must be what Father meant! He said I could trust Sagorn, but not the others, except maybe Thinal. Who’s Thinal?”
Rap looked surprised. “No idea. But we can try to call up Sagorn, if you think we can trust him. I’m frightened of this monster getting loose.”
“How can you do that?”
“Let’s find out.” Rap dropped on one knee and said politely to Darad, “Please will you turn into Doctor Sagorn?”
The absurdity of the request made Inos want to giggle, and she must not start down that slippery slope. The giant’s ruined face twisted in anger. He growled an obscenity and strained against his bonds and the goblin’s weight. He was obviously in pain, sweat mingling with the blood on his forehead.
Rap smirked meanly at him. “I shall let Little Chicken try to persuade you, then. That would be fair, wouldn’t it? After all, you introduced us.”
Little Chicken, still sitting on the man’s chest, started to grin again, obviously understanding at least some of the talk.
“You wouldn’t!” Darad growled from the floor.
“I would!” Rap said.
Little Chicken was certainly following the conversation. With no further ado, he cold-bloodedly poked a finger in Darad’s eye.
He howled. “Tell him to get off, then!”
Rap motioned for the goblin to rise. He stood up, and the man on the floor was Sagorn.
Little Chicken hissed loudly and jumped back.
Rap said, “Gods! That’s quite a trick, isn’t it?”
Again Inos remembered the ladies in the romances who went mad with grief; she wondered how many of them could have had this much fun first.
“Doctor Sagorn!” Aunt Kade beamed, and Inos half expected her to add, How nice that you can join us.
The old man smiled up at them bitterly. “If you trust me, then you won’t mind if I remove these bonds?” Despite his undignified position, his sparse white hair was tidy, and he seemed calm and composed. He slipped his wrists free easily, for the tethers had been fitted to Darad’s mightier limbs.
Rap cut his ankles free, also, and then helped him to rise. “Let’s see if we can find something better for you to wear, sir.”
Darad’s huge body had ripped Andor’s garments open, and the shreds were barely decent on Sagorn. They were also soaked in tea and blood. Rap turned to Little Chicken and spoke in goblin. The reply was brief.
“What did he say?” Inos asked.
Rap sighed. “He told me to get it myself. He has very exact ideas of a slave’s duties.”
So Rap ran upstairs and came down with a brown woolen robe. Fleabag, now released, indulged himself in a tour of the room, sniffing vigorously and cleaning up the remains of the food.
The lanky old man stepped into the stairwell for a moment and returned wearing the gown, his dignity restored. He bowed to Aunt Kade and then to Inos. She remembered how he had terrified her at their first meeting, but the glittery eyes and eagle nose held no threat for her now, although she had just witnessed a very obvious sorcery. She wondered if that was because she was older, or whether she was just numb from the daylong battering.
“My sympathies, ma’am,” he said. “Your father was a good friend to me in years past, and I grieve his sad end. I did everything within my skill.”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
Sagorn made himself comfortable on a chair next to Kade’s sofa and everyone else sat down, also, with Little Chicken cross-legged on the floor, scowling deeply as he struggled to follow the impish tongue.
“You will want an explanation, I suppose?” the old man asked.
“Please,” Inos said. “That was an unconventional entrance.”
He smiled his thin-lipped grimace at her for a moment. “You are no longer the young lady who panicked at the mention of yellow dragons. Kinvale has done wonders for you. Can Andor claim some of the credit, I wonder?”
He was seeking to dominate her. “The explanation, please?”
“Very well.” He turned to Rap. “Your guess was remarkably close, young man. There are five of us—myself, Andor, Jalon, Darad, and Thinal, whom you have not met. Many, many years ago, we together gave cause for annoyance to a powerful sorcerer. He placed a spell on us, a curse. Only one of us can exist at a time. That is the whole of the matter.”
“But you are different persons?” Rap had always frowned ferociously when thinking hard.
“Quite different. Andor and Thinal were brothers, the rest of us merely friends. We have never met since that terrible evening long ago. We share a single existence and we also share the same memories. How did you escape from the goblins, by the way?”
Rap did not answer that. “A very convenient curse! You appear and disappear at will—”
“No! A terrible curse!” Sagorn glared. “We have been seeking release from it for longer than you would believe. Take Darad, for example. Would you like to be burdened with that man’s memories? Murder and rape? He is a mad dog, crueler than a goblin. And we do not come and go at will, only when called. None of the rest of us likes to call Darad, so it may be years before he exists again—but when he does appear, he will still have a burned back and a cracked head and a sore eye and a ripped arm. I hope none of you is within his reach at that moment.”
“And of course he will not be bound?”
“Not unless whoever calls him is bound.”
They all thought about that for a moment.
“Father said I could trust you,” Inos said, “or sometimes Thinal. Who is Thinal?”
“Thinal? He was our leader.” The old man stretched his bloodless lips in a smile. “Yes, he is trustworthy after a fashion, as long as you have nothing precious around—like a ruby brooch, for example.”