her have been seen being rushed into Wrathgard. They are to be seized at once, alive. The castle and all else in it can be destroyed.'
Yellow eyes blinked. 'Tindror took them in?'
'So it would seem,' the lorn replied coldly, its tone making it clear that only someone as stupid as Baron Murlstag might have trouble grasping that obvious circumstance. It ducked its horns and sprang to the windowsill, then launched itself into the high cold air beyond, wings snapping out, without waiting for a reply.
Baron Murlstag stood in that window, the highest in his castle, and watched the flying thing dwindle into the distance.
Damned insolent beasts. He hated them almost as much as he hated Baron Darl Tindror.
The vaulted ceiling of light stone, as magnificent as ever, faded slowly into view out of the mists, and swam around above him.
Rod Everlar had always liked vaulted ceilings, and had ended up with a stiff neck staring up at far too many of them as a teen, trudging around various historic European cathedrals in the wake of his parents, and he remembered putting them in various feasting halls and great chambers in his Falconfar books. Hammerbeam ceilings, too, but the fan vaulting had always seemed to him the most beautiful. Holdoncorp's artists had been delighted to discover he'd included them…
'Rod! Rodrell!' Taeauna snapped, sounding angry, her voice echoing strangely and coming from a long, long way away…
'It worked, lady, let me assure you! It worked!' an unfamiliar, frightened male voice was gabbling from very close by.
The ceiling went on swimming, circling around above his eyes more slowly now…
He was lying on something hard. Hard, smooth, and flat.
He was… Rod was lying on his back on the table in the map chamber at Wrathgard, staring up at its ceiling, with someone whimpering beside him.
He turned his head and found himself looking at a young man in robes-a priest or monk or wizard, but Falconfar had no monks or priests, so this must be a wizard-who was bone-white and chattering in fear.
'What're you afraid of?' Rod asked curiously.
The man stared at him, and then said in a rush, 'That the Dooms felt my spell-work on you! And will hasten here to take or slay me!'
'What spell-work?'
'P-purging that which afflicted you.'
'The wine was drugged,' Taeauna told Rod furiously from the far side of the room; he turned his head in her direction, and saw that she was standing over the baron, holding her sword to his throat. Tindror, grimly pale, was still in his seat. 'How do you feel?'
'I… fine. I think.'
'T-there are no spells on this man,' the wizard stammered.
Taeauna nodded grimly, never taking her eyes from the baron. 'It is as well for you,' she told Tindror softly.
'L-lady, I am sorry. Who is he?'
'Better that you not know. He is… important.' Her voice was now very soft. 'As you now know.'
Rod saw tears well up in Tindror's eyes.
'I meant no harm, Taya. Please believe me!' the bearded noble hissed, starting to weep. 'I never wanted to do anything to… darken what we share.'
'You truly mean that?'
'Yes,' he said fervently. Taeauna looked across the table at the wizard, caught his gaze, and pointed meaningfully at Tindror.
Nodding nervously, the wizard cast a spell, a short and careful incantation that ended with his eyes closed and his arms spread wide.
The man stood in silence for what seemed like a long time to Rod, who was holding his breath, and then confirmed, 'He means it. His intention was to send this man into slumber so he could… he could…' He blushed, and pointed at Taeauna, then hesitantly waggled his pointing finger back and forth between the baron and the Aumrarr.
She nodded her thanks, and told Tindror crisply, 'Then, Lord of Wrathgard, you may just have retained your life.' She gestured with her head, a sharp lift, bidding him rise. 'The secret passage,' she commanded, her sword never wavering from the baronial throat.
'Yes,' the baron said huskily; he'd started to nod and promptly felt the cold point of her steel. He backed carefully away, Taeauna moving with him so her sword never left its menacing position, until he'd passed the windows and reached the tapestried wall beyond. He did something to the paneling behind the first tapestry that made it shrink back into darkness, leaving a narrow opening that someone thrusting the tapestry aside could enter, to step around the section of paneling.
'Rodrell, bring the wizard and follow us closely,' Taeauna commanded. When they'd crossed the room, Tindror silently led the way up a long, very steep secret stair.
The door at its top stood open, so they could step right into a palatial bedchamber, windowless but hung with many lamps, and aglow with sunlight streaming down a spiral metalwork staircase in one back corner. The room was soft underfoot with overlapping furs, and was dominated by a huge round bed where four beautiful women lounged sleepily, clad in alluring scraps of silk or even less, until they sat up to stare at their lord and the three intruders in shock.
'Turn out your… maids,' Taeauna ordered the baron. 'They can sleep elsewhere this night, and perhaps really sleep for a change.'
Tindror flushed angry red, but obeyed silently, pointing at his maids and then down the stairs, and standing over them as they plucked up various robes, found footwear, and hastily departed.
The Aumrarr turned to Rod, pointing at the door the four maids had just vanished through at the head of the secret staircase. 'Lock and bar yon door,' she commanded, 'and share the bed with the mage. I promise you he'll be no trouble after you put him to bed, bind, and gag him.'
Rod tried not to stare at her with quite the shock Tindror's playlasses had done, but wasn't sure he was succeeding. 'But… where will you-?'
Taeauna gave Rod a look that silenced him in an instant, and then whirled back to the baron, sword up to point at the spiral staircase.
'Get up there,' she ordered, 'and then toss every last hidden weapon in your bedchamber down here. Then I'll come to your bed. And do all you ask. Try not to scar me too badly.'
CHAPTER EIGHT
Rod Everlar was awakened by the screaming. Shrill, agonized shrieking from overhead that sent him bolt upright in the near-darkness, and wakened the bound wizard beside him into a squirming frenzy of frantic muffled calls through his gag.
Rod was still blinking and trying to gather his wits when Taeauna and the baron, both unclad, burst into view at the top of the spiral staircase, bloody swords in hand. Tindror half-ran and half-fell around the first curve of the stair, fetching up against the rail and turning to face whatever might be following them, and the Aumrarr vaulted over the rail to crash down feet-first on the edge of the bed, tipping it up wildly in a great groaning of wood. Rod and the struggling wizard were hurled into the air, and the bundle of boots and clothing Taeauna was carrying burst apart in all directions.
Taeauna's landing was hard enough to hurl her across the room into a wardrobe; it rocked, boomed against the wall behind it, and flung its doors open in protest, but didn't topple as she caromed off it into a run.
The wizard squalled through his gag as she sprinted right at him, but she merely freed him with two swift slices of her gore-dripping sword and whirled away in search of her boots, hissing at Rod, 'Get dressed! Find your sword! We're under attack!'
