He had been locked within these rooms-supposedly the personal quarters of the one called Krassus-for the last four days. During that time, he had seen no one, save for the demonslavers who supplied him with food, toilet articles, and clean clothing. Not one of them had spoken to him.
Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he retied his long sandy hair behind him with the worn leather strip and then turned to look out the open balcony doors. Morning was dawning, the sky sunny and clear.
Reluctantly he took the frantically patterned silk robe from the settee at the end of the bed and put it on. He felt like a fool. He acutely missed his simple leather breeches, boots, and matching sleeveless shirt, the one that had been so forgiving when he used to swing the heavy hammer down on the anvil. He walked sleepily to the spacious balcony and sat down in one of the overstuffed chairs.
His velvet cage-as he had come to think of his prison-was indeed sumptuous, but there was absolutely no way to escape it. The only exit was through double doors of solid marble, locked from the other side. Two armed, white-skinned slavers stood perpetual guard in the hall.
The chambers consisted of a bedroom with a gigantic four-poster bed, an adjoining drawing room with shelves full of books and a large fireplace, and a huge, ornate bath. The rooms were of highly polished marble, as was the open, low-walled balcony where he now sat. Below, the sea crashed against the nearby shore, and he could smell the crisp, salty sea air.
Looking toward the west and out over the seemingly endless Sea of Whispers, he was again reminded that his quarters were hundreds of feet in the air, and surely comprised but a small part of the massive building in which he was being held. One corner of his mouth came up knowingly. No one guarded him on this side of his quarters, for there was no need to. The exterior walls were slick and smooth. Any attempt to escape that way would mean a fall and certain death on the jagged rocks that lined the shore.
Tall, white-sailed ships arrived daily-no doubt transporting yet more slaves-and each time the swaying masts and graceful sails appeared on the horizon, the view steeled his resolve to escape-someday, somehow. But not before killing Janus, he promised himself, and as many of the grotesque slavers as he could.
During the last four days there had been little to do except sit and watch the restless ocean. He had tried to read the books in the drawing room, but they were all written in a beautiful-looking but utterly foreign language. The only words he recognized were Talis and R'talis, and they seemed to be repeated over and over. He was alone with unanswered questions. Why was he was being treated like a king, while his fellow slaves were supposedly confined somewhere else, somewhere far less comfortable? Why had such excitement accompanied his arrival at the docks? Things had been said and done to him there that he couldn't even begin to understand.
Shame washed over him, and he closed his eyes.
The darkness momentarily brought back his dream, and his thoughts turned to his home in the coastal city of Farpoint, and the parents he loved with all his heart. As far as he knew, Jason and Selene were still alive and well, though surely they missed him. Jason still worked in the stables, but no longer performed the difficult manual labor required by his trade. Wulfgar, now thirty-five Seasons of New Life, had stayed on, taking over the blacksmith shop. His strong, hard body showed the years of hard work, his muscles sculpted by so many strikes of the hammer to the anvil. Although there had been several women in his life, he had yet to marry.
He had been abducted in Farpoint while making a trip to order grain for the stables. Rumors of the abduction of men and women his age had been circulating for days, but always the independent skeptic, he had ignored them and ventured into the city anyway. It was at the mill that several of the awful, white-skinned things had come at him at once. Sadly, he had been unarmed.
Nonetheless, Wulfgar had fought back like a lion, badly injuring several of them with his fists and feet before being rendered unconscious. He had awakened to the fire of a branding iron on his shoulder and was then bound in the darkness belowdecks on a ship that tossed its way through the Sea of Whispers for sixteen excruciating days.
He craned his neck to look at the brand on his left shoulder and was heartened to see that it had almost completely healed. He shook his head again at the insanity of it all. It had taken him three days of twice-daily bathing before he had felt truly free of the filth and stink of the ship's hold. But he would never be free of the bizarre brand.
As he continued to stare out over the ocean, his thoughts turned to Eutracia, and to the royal family. Most people believed the king and queen to be dead, along with the Directorate of Wizards. It was widely rumored that they had perished in the royal palace on Prince Tristan's coronation day. Some even said that the king had died at the prince's own hand.
Questions about the survival of the royal twins had stubbornly remained. But if they lived, as so many people thought, why weren't they coming to the aid of their citizens?
No one seemed to know. But if the other rumors were indeed true about the winged ones that had come and murdered both the royal family and the entire Royal Guard, then perhaps even Tristan and Shailiha could do little to stem the tide of the slavers-especially without the powers of the Directorate to help them.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the bolt sliding, and the double doors of his bedroom swung open. Breakfast time.
Two demonslavers entered, swords drawn. A third slaver pushed the now-familiar silver cart loaded with food and drink into the room. Then, unexpectedly, two other persons came through the door. Wulfgar stood quickly and came in from the balcony.
Janus stood there proudly, dressed in his usual flagrant clothes. The twin iron spheres dangling, as always, from his right hip clanked together menacingly as he walked. The dark eyes surrounded by the red, painted mask surveyed the room cautiously.
Beside him stood a woman. Janus roughly shoved her forward, as though displaying her for Wulfgar's approval.
She was beautiful. Tall and shapely, she wore her long, brunette hair in ringlets that twirled down to her shoulders. Her eyes were wide, and bright blue. A magnificent yellow taffeta gown trimmed with white lace draped gracefully from her bare shoulders to the floor, the hem just reaching the tops of her matching silk slippers. On her left shoulder was an angry, healing brand: R'talis.
As Janus took a few steps closer, Wulfgar cringed. Janus looked Wulfgar up and down, and then nodded his approval.
"You clean up nicely," he cooed. "A vast improvement over that day at the docks, I must say."
Without looking around, he raised one hand and snapped his fingers. The two demonslavers immediately grabbed the woman and tossed her onto the four-poster bed as though she were a toy. Surprisingly unafraid, she glared back at them with hate in her eyes.
"As you might have already guessed, she's for you," Janus said calmly, as if he were giving Wulfgar a birthday gift. "R'talis, of course. Nothing but the best for our honored guest. She pleases the eye, does she not? After four days of boredom, I thought you could use some 'companionship.' In any event, do with her as you will."
Wulfgar turned to look at the beauty on the bed, then looked back at Janus. "I don't know how to thank you," he said sarcastically.
"Think nothing of it," Janus answered. "There are many more where she came from, should she displease you."
He removed his gold snuffbox from a pocket of his doublet and snorted a pinch up one nostril. An explosive sneeze followed. He looked Wulfgar up and down another time, then cast his masked eyes back to the woman on the bed.
"Why am I here?" Wulfgar demanded. "What is this place? And why have I been granted such special treatment?"
Janus sighed. "I often forget how truly uneducated you are," he said softly. "No matter. As soon as Krassus arrives, he will help you overcome your handicap. He is due to arrive in a matter of days. Then we will see just how strong you really are."