The White Robe (43 page)

Tarraquin heard the scream and turned in time to see the raptor fly into the air with a man dangling from its talons. She closed her eyes and felt sick, but there was nothing she could do for the man except to hope that he had died quickly. Instead she turned her attention back to the cage where the prisoner had lifted his head. There was no mistaking that it was Jarrul; dirty, weather beaten and haggard, but unmistakable. He rose from his sitting position and staggered across to the front of the cage, putting his hand out to grasp her arm whilst she tried to find a way to release the door.

“My Lady, what are you doing here? Go! Please go before he finds you.”

“I’ve come for you, Jarrul, and I’m not going until I have you out of this cage.”

“No! No, you must go.” He gave a rasping cough and fought to catch his breath whilst Tarraquin tugged harder on the lock. “You must go before he comes. Please listen to me, you have everything to live for whilst my time is nearly done.”

“I will not leave without you.”

She went to pick up a stone with which to pound at the lock, but at that moment the door of the building on the other side of the compound flew open spilling light into the courtyard, and a dozen guards carrying burning torches flooded down the steps. Tarraquin watched in horror as they parted in the centre and a beast with long tusks and dripping fangs bounded down the steps between them. She would have screamed if she could, but all that would come was a terrified whimper.

The beast bounded across the open ground leaving the guards running behind it and charged towards the cage, its mouth open and snarling. Tarraquin pressed herself to the bars of the cage and held her hands up to protect her throat, certain that the creature would leap at her and sink its fangs into her flesh, but when it was just two strides away it suddenly stopped. From the doorway of a low building close by a running figure was shouting and waving his arms, and she prayed to the goddess that he would catch and leash the animal before it attacked.

With a snarl the creature snapped its jaws shut, just an arm’s length from her, and began to pace before the cage as if it was impatiently waiting for something or deciding what to do next. She had never seen anything like it; almost man shaped, but on all fours, with matted fur and tusks, teeth and claws which could effortlessly rip her open. She whimpered again and the beast stopped its pacing and glared at her.

That was more terrifying than the pacing, because, instead of the red eyes that she had imagined the creature would have, deep brown eyes, with almost human intelligence but full of hate and anger, glared back at her. She was sure that the creature was going to spring, but as the guards came to a halt forming a semi-circle behind the creature, it turned and growled, and the man who had run from the low building stepped forward.

“Madam, what are you doing here? This is private land and you are not welcome here.”

Tarraquin took a deep breath and fought down her fear. “I’ve come for my friend; you have no right to hold him prisoner.”

The creature growled again and it was almost as if the man was listening. “Your friend was trespassing on my lord’s land and is being punished for being where he has no right to be.”

“That may be so, but what sort of punishment is this? To cage a man in the open like some animal with no warmth or protection is inhuman. Can’t you see that the man is sick and could die?”

Again the beast growled. “It’s a fitting punishment for those who enter my lord’s home uninvited.”

Tarraquin glared down at the beast and then back at the man realising that they were talking to each other. “You tell that thing that it’s inhuman too, and not just because it’s a monster, but that it has a heart of stone.” The creature pulled back its lips in a terrible snarl and took a threatening step forward. “I’m not scared of you, hound, and I’ll prove it to you. I’ll take my friend’s place. Take me as your prisoner and set him free and I promise that I’ll stay here as long as you wish to hold me.”

“No! My Lady, you cannot do that!” pleaded Jarrul from behind the bars.

“I can and I will. I don’t know what is going on here, or how this creature is giving commands, but if this monster will agree to set you free and return you to the borders of Leersland, I will take your place. Well, what about it, hound?”

The beast stopped its snarling and took two steps back to stand beside the man who had been his spokesman. It growled quietly whilst the man listened. “My master asks that if you were to be his prisoner, how would you know that your friend had been returned to Leersland, and not just taken into the woods and killed?”

“I wouldn’t. I would just have to trust him.”

The creature gave out a few howls which sounded like laughter and stepped forward again to stare into her face. Tarraquin looked back unflinchingly into its brown eyes.

“Agrregd.” It shook its head, licked saliva from its lips and turned back to the building from which it had come with half the guards following behind.

“Captain Tangier!” pleaded Jarrul. “You cannot allow this to happen. This is no place for a lady; if the beast doesn’t kill her, then being a prisoner in this cage will.”

The captain shrugged. “An agreement has been made between my master and this lady, and whether I wish it or not, I have my orders. Madam, we don’t have the means to escort this man to the border. You will understand that our movements are somewhat restricted but we will provide him with a good horse, warm clothing and provisions if that is agreeable to you?”

“Yes, captain, if that is the best you can do, it will be acceptable. Jarrul, you will take what the captain provides and you will return to Leersland, where you will find Istan and tell him what’s happened. Do not return to my camp in the woods as Malingar’s men are there and I’m not sure if I can trust them, and don’t try to get back here to rescue me; if you did I wouldn’t come with you.”

Jarrul went to protest but before he could speak the door to the cage was opened and two guards dragged him out and marched him across the open yard in the direction of the high metal gates. He looked back one last time to see Tarraquin stepping into the cage and the door being shut behind her.

*

Tarraquin sat in the corner of the cage and shivered. It had been bearable when the sun had been there to warm her, but once it had dipped behind the walls, her corner had been lost in the shadows and the cold had begun to bite. Now the temperature was barely above freezing. She had left her warm cloak behind when they had sneaked up to the walls and her riding jacket, despite being made of fine wool, was little protection from the cold. It had been a long day too.

She had watched Jarrul leave on a horse, which appeared on the other side of the gates. He was wrapped up in a thick cloak and looked a little better, although she hadn’t been permitted to say goodbye. In the afternoon she had discovered that the courtyard was used for the guards to practice their weapon craft, and twice the beast had come to visit her, pacing up and down outside her cage, growling and snarling under its breath but never looking at her.

Just before the sun had set, Captain Tangier had come with an invitation to dine with his master which had surprised her, but she had turned it down saying that, if the beast wanted her company then, he would have to ask her himself. Looking down at the small pail of cold water and the chunk of bread that one of the guards had brought her, she was now regretting her decision. She wondered how long she would survive on starvation rations and in freezing temperatures. Still, at least she was safe behind her iron bars where the wild animal couldn’t get at her.

When the night was at its darkest and the cold was enough to form a film of ice across the top of the water in her pail, the door of the building, where she guessed the beast lived, opened and Captain Tangier crossed to where she lay huddled in the corner of the cage. He looked down at her and shook his head. “My master offers you shelter and a warm room for the night.”

She shook her head. “You can tell your master that if he wants me to go to him he needs to ask me himself, not send his lackey.”

Tangier looked irritated but opened the door and threw something inside before returning to the building. In the darkness she thought it was some sort of wild animal but when it didn’t move she crept forward to touch it. The bundle was larger than she had first thought and soft to the touch, and when she unrolled it, she found it was cured hide with the thick fur of a large bear like creature. She took it back to her corner and curled up underneath it, feeling warmer than she had been all day and, eventually, fell into a restless sleep filled with dreams of men dressed up as strange creatures.

The following day was the same as the first, except that the sun disappeared when it was at its highest behind thick grey clouds. Again the beast came to visit her, this time just sitting and looking at her, or occasionally raking the ground with its front claws as if it were angry or frustrated. Captain Tangier came again with an invitation to dine with his master, but when she refused, he told her that if she would not eat with his master she would not eat at all. She waited, hoping for a change of heart, but no food appeared, not even the dry bread. By the time it had been dark for a candle length or two, the sky had opened and she was soaked through, freezing cold and starving.

There were no torches burning outside when she came to the decision that she’d had enough of being a prisoner; pride was one thing, but dying for it was a completely different matter. She pulled the sopping fur blanket around her and tottered to the front of the cage, hoping that her call for help would be heard above the noise of the heavy rain. Wearily she leant against the door of the cage ready to shout, and toppled out as the cage door swung open. For a moment she lay in the mud too shocked to move, and then picked herself up cursing loudly for being such a fool; the door must have been unlocked all the time and she had been too proud to try it.

Clutching the blanket tightly around her she made her way to the wall that surrounded the fortress and slowly worked her way along it until she came to the high metal gates. Instinctively she reached for the two iron rings knowing that if she turned them the gates would open for her and she would be free, but she had given her word, and trust was a two way thing. With a sigh of resignation she carried on passed the gates until she reached the corner of the building where the beast lived.

Some small bit of pride still lived inside her making her cringe at the thought of standing at the front door looking half drowned and begging for help. Instead she searched along the building’s side wall until she found a small, plain door. Giving a quick prayer to the goddess, she turned the handle and pushed and was hugely relieved when the door swung open.

Inside the building was warm and quiet as if everyone was asleep. The short hallway where she had entered was lit by a single candle in a wooden holder, which she picked up and carried with her. At the end of the hallway was another door, and when she opened it she found herself in a large kitchen with a hearth banked down for the night but, still giving out enough heat to make the room warm and to slowly cook the cauldron of oats suspended over the glowing embers.

She took a wooden bowl from a stack on the shelf and a spoon from the table and helped herself to the oats. They were barely cooked, but they were hot and tasty and, with a dollop of honey, it felt like it was the best food she had ever tasted. When she had eaten enough to take away her hunger pangs, she followed another corridor out of the kitchen and up some stairs until she came across a passageway with a row of doors. She pressed her ear to the first door listening for any sound, but when she heard nothing she pushed the door open and slipped inside.

It had been her hope that the room would be a sleeping chamber, but this one was some sort of sitting room. The remains of a fire burnt in the hearth, and a half empty flagon of wine and a used goblet stood on a table by a fireside chair. There were other chairs in the room and on one was a stack of rugs, like those ladies used to cover their legs when travelling in open carriages. Tarraquin poured the rest of the wine into the goblet and took two satisfying gulps before taking off her wet clothes and draping them over a chair to dry. She took two of the thick rugs and wrapped them around herself and then curled up in the armchair by the fire intending to stay there until her clothes were dry and the rain had ceased, but when the candle burnt out she was still there.