"Father! Father!"
Then it all went dark and blind and I thought, This is death.
I don't know what happened in the next three days. For all I know, I was dead. I know it was three days because I was told so later; it might have been thirty seconds or thirty years later that I came up to foggy awareness that I was alive, and that I would much rather not be.
I was lying on the bed in my quarters in Castle Aldaran. I felt bruised, sick, every separate bone and muscle in my body with a separate ache. I staggered into the bathroom and stared at my reflection in the mirror. From the way my face looked, I can only imagine that my body kept on fighting long after I wasn't in it any more.
There were a couple of broken teeth ragged in my mouth, and they hurt like hell. My eyes were so bruised and swollen I could hardly get them open to see. My face had been cut by something hard, the big rings Kadarin wore, maybe. There were going to be scars.
Worse than the physical pain, which was bad enough, was the terrible sense of emptiness. Drearily, I wondered why I had not died. Some telepaths do die of shock, if they are forcibly severed from their own personal keyed matrices. I was just one of the unlucky ones.
Marjorie. My last memory was hearing her scream. Had they tortured her too?
If Kadarin had harmed her I would kill him . ..
The thought was wrenching pain. He had been my friend‑he could not have pretended‑not to a telepath. Sharra had corrupted him....
I wished he had cut my throat instead.
Sharra. I went to look for the matrix, but it was gone. I was glad to be rid of the damnable thing, but I was afraid, too. Would it let us go?
I drank cold water, trying to lessen the dry sickness in me. My hand kept fumbling for the place around my neck where the matrix should have been. I couldn't think straight or see
properly, and there was a constant dull ringing in my ears. I was really surprised I had survived this shock.
Slowly I realized something else. Sore and aching as I was, there was no blood anywhere on my face or garments. Nor had I fouled my clothes. Someone had therefore been here, tended my wounds after a fashion, put clean clothes on me. Kadarin, when he came to take away the Sharra matrix?
I found I very much disliked the thought of Kadarin coming here, handling my unconscious body. I clenched my teeth, found out it hurt too much and made myself relax. Another score to settle with him.
Well, he'd done his worse, and I was still alive.
I tried the door cautiously. As I had suspected, it was bolted on the outside.
I ached so much that the thought of a long hot bath was tempting. The thought of being surprised naked and defenseless in the bathtub, however, removed all temptation from the idea. I soaked a cloth in the hot water and bathed my bruised face.
I ransacked the apartment, but of course my sword was gone, and the dagger, too. When I rummaged in my saddlebags for my heavy traveling boots, even the small skean‑dhu in the boot was gone from its sheath.
A grim smile touched my face. Did they think me helpless? I had my Guardsman training still, and Kadarin might‑he just might‑despise me enough to come back alone.
I dragged up a chair‑I still wasn't steady enough on my feet to stand for what might be hours waiting for him‑and sat down facing the bolted door.
Sooner or later someone would come. And I would be ready.
It was a long time before I heard a tiny metallic rasp from the door. Someone was stealthily rumbling to draw the bolt back. Finally the door began, very slowly, to open inward.
I leaped, grabbed the hand that had just begun to steal inward and jerked hard‑and felt the delicate wrist too late to arrest the force of the swing. Marjorie skidded inside, gasping, slammed against the door‑frame. I dropped her wrist as if it was burned. She staggered and I held her quickly upright
"Quick," she whispered, "shut the door!"
"Gods defend us," I whispered, staring in horror at her. "I could have killed you!"
"I'm glad you're able‑" She drew a quick gasp. "Lew, your face! Oh God ..."
"The loving attention of my kinsmen." I shut the door, shoved the heavy chair up against it.
"I begged them‑I begged them‑"
I laid my arms around her. "Poor love, I know, I heard you. Did they hurt you?"
"No, even Beltran didn't hurt me, though I scratched and bit him." She said, her voice coming in gasps, "I have your matrix for you. Here, quick." She held the small leather bag out to me. I thrust it inside my tunic, next to my skin. It seemed that my vision cleared at once, the dull ringing inside my head quieted. Even my heart beat more solidly. I was still battered and aching from the terrible beating I had taken, but I felt alive again, "How did you get it?"
"Bob made me take it," she said. "He said I was Keeper, only I could handle it without hurting you. He said you'd die otherwise. So I took it. Lew, only to save you. I swear it‑"
"I know. If anyone but a Keeper had kept it long, I would certainly have died." Not that I credited Kadarin with that much kindness for my well‑being. He probably knew what too much handling of someone else's keyed matrix would do to him.
"Where is the Sharra matrix?"
"Thyra has it, I think," she said doubtfully. 'Tin not sure.**
"How did you get in here, Marjorie? Are there guards watching me?"
She nodded slowly. "All the guards know me," she said at last "Most of them were my father's friends and have known me since they held me on their knees. They trust me ... and I brought them drugged wine. I'm ashamed of that, Lew, but what else could I do? But we must get away at once, as quickly as we can. When they wake up they will know, and tell Beltran . . ." Her voice failed.
"He should thank you for saving the small remnant of his honor," I said grimly. Then I realized she had said "we."
"You will come with me?"
"I must, I dare not stay after what I have done. Lew, don't you want me? Do you think I had any part in ... oh
I held her tight. "Can you doubt it? But in these mountains, at this season‑"
"I was born in these mountains; I've traveled in worse weather than this."
"We must be gone, then, before the guards wake. What did you give them?"
She told me and I shook my head. "No good. They'll wake within the hour. But maybe I can do better now." I touched the matrix. "Let's go." Hastily I gathered my things together. She had dressed warmly, I saw, heavy boots, a long riding‑skirt. I looked out the windows. It was nightfall, but by some god's mercy it was not snowing.
In the dim hallway two figures sprawled in sodden, snoring sleep. I bent and listened to their breathing. Marjorie gasped, "Don't kill them, Lew. They've done you no harm!"
I wasn't so sure. My ribs still ached from the weight of somebody's boots. "I can do better than killing them," I said, cradling the matrix between my palms. Swiftly, incisively, I drew into the minds of the drugged men. Sleep, I commanded, sleep long and well, sleep till the rising sun wakes you. Marjorie never came here, you drank no wine, drugged or wholesome.
The poor devils would have to answer to Beltran for sleeping at their post. But I'd done what I could.
I tiptoed down the corridor, Marjorie hugging the wall behind me. Outside the great guest suite were two more drugged guards; Marjorie had been thorough. I stooped over them, sent them, too, more deeply into their dreams.
My hands are strong. I made shorter work of the bolts than Marjorie had done. Briefly I wondered at the kind of hospitality that puts a bolt on the outside of a guest room door for any contingency. As I stepped inside, Danilo quickly stepped between me and Regis. Then he recognized me and fell back.
Regis said, "I thought they'd killed you‑" His eyes fell on my face. "It looks as if they'd tried! How did you get out?"