Tree Of Life Part 20

The room which they entered had doors on three sides. They required no door, however, but rather the wall to the far right, through which they meant to get at the holding cells on the other side. Carson at once set to his task. He was to trans.m.u.te the mortar around each brick into mud, thereby allowing the loosened brick to slide out freely. While he did this, the others gathered apprehensively about his crouched form.

"Go listen by that door," Cedrik said to his brother and instructed Cade to watch the second door. Bayne took himself over by the third and listened. Cedrik stood with his back to them, watching to see how Carson fared in bringing down part of the wall. It was a slower process than Cedrik would have liked. He felt anxious they would be discovered, and several times he turned, convinced he had heard steps.

The faint sounds of clanking armour would come to Derek's attentive ears at intervals, never close enough to think they were coming to the door, but soon he heard quick, yet heavy steps approaching louder and louder, till there was no doubt someone was about to enter. "Someone's coming," he whispered urgently.

There was a sound-a drawing of bolts. Cedrik turned hastily just as the door opened, and kicked it closed, smashing it into the guard's face, who staggered backward, half-stunned, with a bloodied nose. Cedrik wasted no time before bounding onto the man, grappling him to the ground. There was not a large disparity in weight between the two men, but in the dominant position Cedrik easily overpowered him, pressing his forearm down across the throat, choking him unconscious.

While he did this, Derek attended to the guard behind. Taking advantage of the surprise, he landed a sharp blow to the guard's jaw with such a hard knock he felled him on the spot. Derek could easily have killed the man, had such been his desire, but he could not bring himself to the point.

Cedrik meanwhile rose from his unconscious foe. The chivalry he would usually abide was disregarded, and he plunged his blade through the man's chest. He then did the same to the other at Derek's feet, while Derek, who had never taken a life nor witnessed his brother take the life of man, stood breathless and overwhelmed.

Cedrik clutched his brother round the back of the neck. "Are you holding?" Derek nodded hurriedly, as if numbed by a chill. Cedrik looked over at the companions and saw that enough of the wall was down for them to pa.s.s through.

"This is going better than I thought," said Cade with relief.

"It will not go so easy when we come nearer to the holding area," said Carson as he ducked through the narrow aperture he had produced, leading the way.

In his cell Deacon stood aimless. He was shackled in wrist irons, made of a particular alloy that had negating properties. These bonds did not render him entirely useless but made it exceedingly difficult for him to draw on any amount of strength. The holding cell was isolated from the others, situated in the middle of the chamber, entirely closed in with no windows but for the one set in the iron-bound door, equipped with thick bars.

A single man stood posted in front. He was not a city guard but one of the rangers who worked for Orsious. Further down from here several guards were posted at the entrance; they could not be seen from the prisoner's view. Deacon leaned his brow against the cold bars, hanging his arms limply through the s.p.a.ces between them.

"You cannot keep me here. I've done nothing wrong!" he said, his voice rising in agitation, but the guard paid no more attention to him than if he had not spoken at all. Deacon's hands were hanging down near to the lock. He made a subtle gesture, and for its attempt was inflicted with a charge. He swore and withdrew his hand. He had known how it would be, but had done it merely to satisfy his own knowing and to test the effect of his hindered strength.

The guard took a step forward and said, "d.a.m.n you, do not tempt me!"

From their unusual entry point, the perpetrators pa.s.sed behind Deacon's cell. To their left more holding chambers extended, forming a narrow corridor with cells on either side. These they swiftly pa.s.sed, determining that Deacon would be held in the centre chamber, which was used for interrogation. Coming round the side of his cell, they came upon several guards posted at the entrance. The first guard to see them came to attention, startled, his hand reaching for the hilt of his sword. His violent start caused the others to do likewise. Out flashed the swords from their sheaths. No words were exchanged; the perpetrators' intentions were too clear to necessitate any conversation. Bayne, with a single movement, s.n.a.t.c.hed the concealed knife from his boot and hurled it into the throat of the first guard before the blade was fully drawn-he rushed forward to retrieve it mere seconds after it had left his hand. With that the two sides fell upon each other.

As yet unaware of his companions' proximity, Deacon remained leaning, his brow pressed against the bars, his hands hanging limp through them, suffering the lull of inaction.

"Pull your arms back in before I break them off," threatened the guard. Even with the restraints he didn't trust the prisoner's abilities. He stepped forward but then was distracted by the sound of conflict. There was a commotion at one side of the room. In that moment of distraction, just as he turned his face, Deacon made a sharp, sudden gesture which dashed the guard's head against the wall and rendered him consciousless. The man laid sprawled, inert upon the floor.

Out from the corridor where the other cells where situated came three armed guards, hastening to the side of their a.s.sociates, who still offered resistance against the perpetrators. Cedrik was so ruthless it seemed he was determined to disarm the whole party on his own. Magenta pa.s.sed ahead of the hostilities and went toward Deacon's cell. One of the defending guards, determining her intent, hastened to intercept her, but Bayne was after him a few seconds later and broadsided him. Both men fell and smashed into the floor. Only Bayne rose from the struggle. Seizing the guard's sword, he cut the exposed throat and, thus armed, followed Magenta.

Deacon, after hearing the commotion, was aching to get out. Even with his heavily restrained energies, he tried to break the chain that served as a tether. When Magenta suddenly appeared at the door, he drew up straight, as if she were the last person he thought to see. "Are you hurt?" was the first thing she said, touching his face through the bars. She placed her hand over the lock. He caught her wrist.

"It's difficult," he said.

"Let her," came Bayne's ruthless voice. "She's a criminal." Deacon released her, wary of the unfamiliar face. Magenta at once attempted to release the lock. Bayne planted his feet either side of the unconscious body of the ranger, and stooping down, he felt for the keys. Cedrik and the others had managed to subdue the resistance and stood at the entrance on guard, waiting for any who might venture through.

Cade came to stand by Bayne, who found the key-ring, attached still by a chain, and tore it free. He held it up. "d.a.m.n me!" His heart sank at how many keys there were. "Who is this man?" Before stepping away from the body, he gave the insensible guard a good, sharp kick in the side. "He'll feel that when he wakes."

"Quickly, quickly," said Cade.

In the opened doorway to the cell, Deacon waited, unable to move further out. He said to Magenta, "I wish you hadn't come." Beneath the concern was something decidedly cold and impersonal. Pain came into her face, so subtle that only he could have noticed. "Are my cousins here?"

"They wait down the hall," Magenta told him. From his view he could not see them. She wanted to throw her arms about him and hold him close, but the strangeness of his manner kept her away. Bayne broke in rudely on their exchange and grabbed Deacon's wrists. "Hold still, sweetheart, we'll get you out." He winked and proceeded to try different keys. Cade stood next to him, trying to determine progress, his gaze lifting occasionally to see how his companions far down at the end fared.

Cedrik, Derek, and Carson stood on either side of the entrance, out of view from any who might come down the hall. Cedrik nursed several nasty sword-gashes and regretted the absence of the armour to which he was accustomed. The other two were also well-beaten, but no wound required immediate address. Carson observed the younger brother's ashen face-blood that was not his own smeared his cheek. "Don't feel remorse," he said. "These guards are miserable sons-of-dogs. I have scars still upon my body from their hands."

"Hush, do not speak," said Cedrik. He wanted to listen for anyone coming. Moments after, they heard faint steps approaching. The instant the individual entered, Carson came forward. Seeing it was a woman, not a guard, the blow he meant to deal swiftly changed. Instead he caught her by the shoulders and dashed her against the wall, throwing his weight against her. He clapped his hand over the startled mouth, but not before a faint cry had reached the ear of a man who followed. It alerted him and gave time enough to ready himself. Sword drawn, he blocked the first attack. He retreated up the hall and sent forth sharp, alarming calls. Cedrik went after him, and in a moment disarmed and silenced him, but it was too late. Nearby guards had heard the alarm and were at once rushing forth. Cedrik turned and ran.

The woman Carson had pinned against the wall remained helplessly pa.s.sive. An intensified fear showed on her brow when her gaze fell upon the dead guards who lay behind him. Carson, not knowing what else to do with her, drew the strings from his leather pants and bound her hands. He pushed her to the floor in a corner and was threatening her into silence when Cedrik ran into the room in a mad haste, his sword drawn. Carson and Derek heard the heavy clanking of armour, which left no doubt a number of well-armed men were coming after him.

While all this went on, Bayne worked at freeing the prisoner. Cade hovered anxiously, urging him to be quick with the task. "You tried that one already."

"No. I did not," answered Bayne, undaunted.

The commotion at the entrance caught Cade's attention. Panicking, he bent close, so he spoke right to the other's ear and said with emphasis, "Hurry up."

Bayne turned to him, provoked. "I will stick you with this key!" In that same instant they both turned and saw their companions engaged in fending off the impending onslaught of guards. Seeing them begin to falter under the weight of the attack, Cade began to lose his nerve and said, "Are you sure we shouldn't have gone with the first plan?"

"Sh-h!" said Bayne, hurrying to unlock the prisoner's bonds. Just as a barrage of guards came through the entrance, Deacon stepped free of his cell, sending out a pulse of electricity that stunned and collapsed their bodies. Before they could recover from the paralysis, the companions regrouped and hastened down behind the cell to where they had secretly infiltrated. Instead of turning left, out through the door by which they had entered, they continued through, stepping over the two guards Cedrik and Derek had previously brought down. Leading the way, Bayne turned their steps toward an outer wall. As fortune would have it, they met no resistance on their path.

"We are to go through there," Bayne said, pointing to the wall ahead. Before Carson had a chance to hasten forward and set to the tedious task of removing each brick, Deacon threw all his will against it. As if hit by some tremendous force, the stone burst and shattered, leaving a gaping hole. The fugitives halted briefly, stunned by the startling force, then continued through. Outside, in the limited s.p.a.ce between the structure and outer city wall, Bayne asked Deacon, "Can you seal it back up?" He knew everyone in the place would be on their heels in less than fifteen minutes.

Deacon shook his head, bent over as if out of breath.

"It matters little," said Bayne, turning to the wall. Focusing his attention, he deformed the surface of the stone, producing indentations and protrusions suitable for foot and hand holds. Deacon set his boot on the first step and set all his weight on it. It was a only a fifteen-foot wall, but it would not do for any of them to fall and break a bone.

"Let your woman go before us," said Bayne, in the tone of an order, thinking if anything should go wrong she would be the first to suffer it. Deacon paid no attention and commenced his ascent. He scaled the wall effortlessly and without fear.

Magenta started soon after him. When she neared the top, her wrists were grasped from above, and she was hauled up the rest of the way. Standing precariously atop the wall, Deacon held her close. "Hang down to the full length of your arms before you let go," he instructed her. He went first, stepping off the edge and landing steadily upon his feet.

Carefully Magenta slid over the side, hanging with her body flat against the stone, arms fully extended. Deacon stood at the base waiting for her. As she dropped, he reached up and caught her round the waist to lessen the fall. In his arms she caught her balance and turned to him. When he determined she was unharmed, they swiftly moved out of the path for others who followed quickly behind. Bayne was the last. He landed hard and scrambled to his feet. "Your horses are tied over in those trees," he said, wincing with a pained ankle. He indicated the thicket of trees a small distance away.

"Where are you going to?" asked Cedrik. He knew the search would be on and that none might traverse the streets of Cheydon without being subject to interrogation.

"There's a tavern not far from here," said Carson. "We'll wait it out there and head back into the front gates with the morning trade."

"You'd better clear off, then," said Bayne. After farewell handclasps the Cheydon boys broke away in the other direction. Magenta went with Deacon, Cedrik and Derek. They slipped quickly into the trees, looking to retrieve the horses, of which were only three. They had not realized that she was to come with them. Without a word, Deacon held back, gently drawing her to a standstill with him. He turned only partly to face her, his eyes downcast. She was pressed softly against him, wondering. He waited while the brothers continued on ahead of them before he spoke.

"You cannot come with me," he said in a low, firm voice, so only she could hear. He did not lift his eyes. Her heart sank within her and seemed to die. She could endure cold, wet or hunger, she had even borne Infliction, but the thought of being forever divided from him was as utterly unendurable as being asked not to breathe. "Return to your father," he said quietly. She stood silent as if she could not move. He suffered. He was going to move.

A sob rose in her throat. "Deacon-" He had begun to turn, but her plea arrested him. "All that I hold dear will be torn away with you." She pleaded so softly no other ears heard. She sought his hand plaintively and pressed close against him. Though her touch was light, he felt as if she were hanging off the edge of a precipice and his strength alone would keep her from falling. He could feel himself being dragged down with her. Unable to endure her face as he let her slip and fall, he stooped down to whisper. She felt his smooth cheek brush her own, his lips against her ear, the words rapid and almost senseless, succeeded in a suspension of consciousness. She hadn't a chance even to apprehend the meaning before she drooped in his arms. Gently he lowered her to the soft earth.

"What did you do to her!" came Derek's voice of alarm. Cedrik and Derek both went over to Deacon, bringing the horses with them. "Don't do your accursed magic on her!" said Derek, crouching down to see if she was all right, but he couldn't make her stir.

"Let us move on," said Deacon, taking the reins of his horse from Cedrik. "It'll not be long before we are discovered here."

Cedrik frowned. "We can't just leave her here," he said. He felt it would be wrong to leave the young woman to such a fate, especially after she had risked herself for Deacon's freedom. "You cannot just leave her here in this state." Glancing down at her, she looked very vulnerable. "Anyone who comes along may do what they will with her."

"She is a priestess," said Deacon. "Guards that will be here all too soon will take her back to her father and us with her if we don't move." Cedrik looked at him, hardly convinced. "They would fear any other action," Deacon said.

"And I suppose going back to her father, after disobeying him and freeing you, is not going to go bad for her? I met the man only briefly, but he left a vivid impression. Do you really wish to bring his anger down upon her?"

They were quickly running out of time, and Deacon knew Cedrik would have his way.

"She comes with us," Cedrik persisted. "She can decide for herself where she goes thereafter."

Deacon hesitated a moment then lifted her dead weight into his arms. "She's in your care," he said, bearing her to Cedrik's horse. The latter a.s.sisted Deacon and between their efforts, successfully secured her. Cedrik pulled himself onto the horse behind her, supporting her in his arms. Deacon briskly mounted his own horse. "It will be a wearisome journey for you, till she wakes."

Cedrik glanced at him angrily, then with a sharp kick to the beast's side made off. They had not travelled far when Deacon drew rein and, leaping down, created behind them an airy ma.s.s. Any sign of their tracks disappeared as if they had vanished into the blowing night like a confusion of dust.

Chapter33.

Commencement -efore the night was ended, the fleeing companions had set up camp and prepared a hot meal. Near at hand, three tents made a ring around them. Remaining in a swoon, Magenta lay near the fire. Her kind-natured overseer had draped a blanket about her shoulders and smoothed her brow free of care.

The three men ate in silence, weary and worn, the firelight close round them. Their hearts had been bruised. The youngest sat quietly, miserable after the misadventures of the night. He seemed to forget the plate in his hand. Deacon sat with a map spread out over his lap, tracing his course.

Cedrik broke in on the quiet. "Where are you to go from here?"

"My course is as yet undecided," was the vague answer.

"You will not go to Terium?"

Deacon looked up. He was not entirely surprised. He knew Cade could not have helped but open his mouth. "I had considered it," he said, binding himself to nothing. Cedrik knew he was lying; his will was intent upon it still.

"Why do you not come to the Imperial? You will be safe there. Both of you." He glanced down at the sleeping woman.

Deacon shook his head. "I don't need protection. You may take her with you."

"I would, but I doubt she'll be persuaded easily to leave your side."

"She has little choice in the matter," said Deacon. "I'll not take her with me. She may return with you, or she may venture elsewhere, but she cannot remain with me. When do you suppose to leave?"

"Unless Derek feels the need to return home directly, we'll remain with you for a time yet. I really think it would be best to return home," said Cedrik.

"Do you?" said Deacon. "Then why not return? I'll not stop you."

"Why are you so eager to be rid of us?"

"I'm not certain if you recall, but I didn't want you to come with me in the first place. But you do as you will."

"Where are you to go?"

"I told you, I don't know."

Cedrik frowned and left it alone. Deacon reached and took up a plate. The map that lay open on his knees he put aside. He put food to lips as if with an involuntary action. Presently his eyes drifted to the figure softly breathing. The dim glow of firelight spread warmth over her features, the blanket draped over her had fallen loose, and he could see the soft white curve of her breast, gently lifting and falling with each breath. With quiet absorption, he continued to gaze at her.

"She's beautiful," Derek said after a time. Deacon glanced up at him, not realizing he had been watching all this while. Deacon mumbled a vague a.s.sent, then returned his attention to the plate, taking a forced mouthful. It was not long, however, until his eyes strayed over again.

"Will she be like that all the night?" asked Cedrik.

Deacon shook his head; he didn't know.

"You did this without knowing the results?"

Not long had they discussed her, when they saw the object of their conversation begin to stir. The dark began to drift clear of her vision, and Magenta soon saw the blaze of a small fire and could feel its warmth. The smell of roasted meat came to her and nauseated her. A rolled blanket had been placed gently under her head, though it still ached.

She couldn't at first grasp any orientation. Languid with a sleepy warmth, she began to sit up and felt gentle hands a.s.sisting her; though they did little more than rest lightly on her shoulders, she was grateful for the gesture of kindness. It was Deacon whom she expected to see, but she looked instead into the face of Cedrik, his young and fair features filled with gentle concern. His eyes were not unlike Deacon's-but were a softer, lighter blue, without the black fire.

"Are you well?" he asked with tender sympathy. He knew his cousin would not hurt her intentionally, but magic was involved, and like his father, he mistrusted it. She gave vague a.s.sent as she settled to a sitting position; the blanket drawn round her shoulders.

Deacon made no move toward her. At first she gave him no glance of recognition, her mind heavy and clouded, but by degrees the confusion cleared, and she saw him there by the fire. He sat leaning over his knees, a plate held in his hands. He wore plain black leather pants and shirt. He looked grim, inaccessible.

"Is it the same day?" she asked. She had no perception of elapsed time.

"We left Cheydon but a few hours ago," answered Cedrik. Magenta drew the blanket around more closely. She looked to Deacon and wondered why it was not he who crouched over her. She remembered that he had wanted to leave her, that he had whispered strange words, and that a blackness overwhelmed her, but his heart had softened and he had brought her with him. Why then did he sit apart from her?

"You should have something to eat," he said in a toneless voice, offering a plate, which Cedrik, without quitting his touch on her arm, took upon himself to receive, since Deacon made no effort to lean forward. Cedrik offered it to her, but she, with a weary gesture, declined.

"You will feel the worse for it if you don't," said Deacon. He looked at her with dark eyes that she could not understand. She felt cut off from him. Smiling bleakly at Cedrik, she took the plate and after scarcely putting the food to her lips, put it down again.

Cedrik arose and stepping over his brother's outstretched legs, resumed his seat. The moment he was gone from her side, she felt the fullness of her loneliness. His presence, though light, had sustained her, as the small flame of a candle wards off the darkness in a closed room. In her heart the world seemed dissolved away. Deacon denied himself to her. His face wore that fixed expression where all tokens of emotion were concealed and would give her no more recognition than if she were a stranger.

Magenta bore the strain of belonging to him, yet being unclaimed by him, with an aching heart. She could scarcely endure the empty feeling where he should be. Now and then she looked over, but he seemed to refuse to meet her gaze. His manner confused her. In the few moments in which his attention strayed to her, his face betrayed little emotion. Indeed he looked at her so infrequently, and with such fierce indifference, that a casual observer might not see any suggestion of intimacy beyond that of an acquaintance. But to a more observant onlooker, there was a tenderness in his sideglances that could not be seen when he looked directly at her.

Derek managed to note that the half-averted eyes, the forced avoidance, and her so obvious suffering to it, all declared that there was in fact a bond between them, some shared tenderness in the past. He could not contemplate their manner as implying less.

The night was very dark. All around them was the large, lonely shape of trees. Cedrik was about to approach the subject of their journey and arrangements but thought best to leave it till the morning, when things are always less daunting. Presently Deacon stood. "I'm going to bed." He laid a heavy hand on Cedrik's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Sleep in peace."

Cedrik nodded wearily and let his head hang. Before moving to his tent, Deacon pa.s.sed brief acknowledgements to the others. Just as he was about to push back the opening and duck to enter, he became conscious of Magenta at his shoulder.

"Am I to remain by your side through the night?" she asked quietly, close to him. She could feel the presence of the other two behind them, burning into her. It was almost insufferable. She wanted to hide herself against him, wanted him to cover her.

"No," he said. "No, I think not."

Something seemed to trouble him. He was foreign to her. Magenta glanced back at the brothers who were looking everywhere but at the couple, trying to provide them with a sense of privacy. She lowered her voice further still. "What has happened?" she asked in the anguish of perplexity. "What has changed?" In her soul she felt exposed. She could scarcely bear for him to leave her uncovered. Deacon glanced swiftly at their silent audience and back to her. He remained distant and strange, with an unresponsiveness verging on coldness.

Cedrik had the presence of mind to keep his face down, but Derek was watching from under his eyebrows. There was a kind of intensity between them, a lowered tone, a suggestion of suffering. He could hardly stand it. It was evident she loved Deacon, and by his manner it seemed he gave her reason. It gnawed away at Derek till he was cursing Deacon as a cold, heartless, fickle wretch.

Deacon would say nothing. His silence left her alone with all the agonizing emotions, and she understood that he was terribly exasperated. "There's enough room for the brothers to share a single tent," he said in a moment. "That one will be sufficient for you. There's an extra blanket in my bag should you feel the cold." He stooped to enter the tent, but she caught his arm in both her hands.

"At what point was I so unfortunate as to offend you?" she asked in cold distress.

"You have not," he murmured, not looking at her.

"Why then do you distance yourself from me? Why do I see only coldness in your eyes?" He thought he heard tears in her voice, but his lifted gaze only saw perplexity. She whispered, "Why do you despise me?"

"It's not true," he said.

"Without a word you were going to leave and never return. Is that not true?" she said with searching, disappointed eyes. "Why do you turn against me?"