Tae did not hear Imorelda leave, but he felt certain she had done so. With a sigh, he curled up on the cold, hard floor of his cell and pretended to sleep.
CHAPTER 23
It's the horrific things in life that make a man careful, wiser.
On his sixth day in the Bearnian dungeon, Tae found himself trundled roughly into a thick-walled interrogation room no larger than his cell. Shoved inside, he stumbled. He could have caught his balance but did not bother, instead easing his tumble onto the solid stone floor. The guards did not need to know the full range of his dexterity, nor did he need to risk tearing muscles or ligaments. A few more bruises added to the mass seemed a much smaller price to pay.
The door slammed shut, leaving Tae in utter darkness. He lowered his head, reveling in the sudden peace and quiet, the chance to drop his guard and fully assess his person. He stank. Bruises stamped his body, the worst at his throat where the pirate had attempted to strangle him. His hair hung in tangles, and filth covered every part of him. Though once his natural state, it bothered him now. He had not felt so disgustingly vile for the latter half of his life. I'm getting too old for this.
The door winched open, admitting a beam of light. Tae remained in place, taking his cues from whoever opened the door.
Several moments passed in silence until Tae finally raised his head to see who had joined him. A tall, broad figure in a blue cloak played lantern light across him, then closed the door. "Oh, Tae," she said.
Recognizing the voice, Tae leaped to his feet and tried to look happily animated. "Matrinka. What in the name of all gods are you doing here?"
Carefully setting down the lantern, Matrinka caught Tae into a fierce embrace. "Oh, Tae," she repeated. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, but you don't want to touch me." Tae added with a smile, "I reek."
Tae's words did not put Matrinka off, though she did finally release him. "A good bath will take care of that." She ran her fingers into his hair, though they barely penetrated. "Then a combing-"
"No, Matrinka. No." Tae untwined her from the no-longer-silky black strands. "I can't come back from a torture session groomed and perfumed."
She hugged him again, speaking wistfully and with clear personal pain. "Must you go back?"
"Yes." Tae's answer left no room for argument. He had not accomplished nearly as much as he had hoped. "One thing I wouldn't mind, though, is getting out of small, enclosed places."
"Of course." Matrinka let go. She swished off her cloak and placed it lovingly over Tae. While he adjusted the sleeves and hood to hide his features, Matrinka scooped up the lantern and opened the door.
Swiftly, they walked down a corridor that did not take them past any prisoners, out of the dungeon proper, and into the torchlight of the main castle passages. Something brushed against Tae's leg, then twisted to twine along the other one, stealing his equilibrium. Tae hopped, stumbled, and barely caught his balance.
Matrinka steadied him. "Are you all right?"
Tae looked down to see Imorelda purring up at him.*Watch your feet, you oaf.You nearly crushed me,* she accused.
Tae responded to both of them, "Imorelda tried to break my legs." *I did not!*
"She can talk," Tae added conspiratorially to the only person who knew it. "You'd think she'd warn me before doing something stupid." *I shouldn't have to warn you. And claiming you is my right, not 'something stupid.'*
"Mior used to do that, too," Matrinka said wistfully. "I miss that."
"You miss having your legs broken?" Tae shook a head lost beneath the folds and hood of his cloak. "The day I miss that, you have permission to kill me."
Matrinka snorted. "Killing you would be easy. It's keeping you alive that drives us near to madness." She ushered him into one of the first-floor meeting rooms.
Tae stepped around her and into an enormous room filled with plush chairs and a single large table with smaller, harder seats around it. King Griff rose to face the door, his bodyguards, Rantire and Bard Darris, at attention beside him. The room's only other occupants were the ubiquitous silent page in one corner and a couple of cats lounging in the most comfortable chairs.
What caught Tae's attention, though, was a steaming plate of food on the table. The aromas of real meat, baked bread, and freshly cooked vegetables twined across the room, overwhelming even his own stench; and Tae found himself walking toward it before he could think to practice the decorum a king's presence demanded.
Luckily for Tae, he was also a king and among friends who did not require formality. Darris bowed low; Rantire afforded him a respectful, though grudging, nod. King Griff merely smiled in happy welcome. Either from her usual concern, or to cover his rudeness, Matrinka ushered Tae swiftly to the table. "Eat, eat!"
Tae took his place at the head of the table, seizing a fork and shoving the first piece into his mouth without bothering to identify it. It was a tuber, buttered and seasoned, and the taste seemed to explode as he bit into it. Flavor washed through his mouth, so intense it overwhelmed his other senses. He chewed happily as the rest of the world faded in comparison.
Griff sat at the opposite end of the table, while his guards took the chairs on either side of him. Matrinka placed herself beside Darris, at Tae's right hand. Only the seat across from her remained vacant, at least until Imorelda claimed it as a stepping stone to the table and Tae's feast. * Gimme, gimme, gimme!*
Lost in his personal heaven, Tae could not have stopped Imorelda from taking whatever she wished. The cat hooked a piece of meat, pulled it toward her, and grabbed it with her teeth.
Tae finally swallowed. "Wow, this is good." He watched Imorelda worry her piece of meat, growling softly. "Sorry about the animal on the table."
Griff waved off the apology. "Believe me, we're used to it." He turned Matrinka a loving smile, and her cheeks gained a pinkish hue.
Tae savored a few more bites of tuber, lamb, and greens before putting down his fork. As good as it tasted, he knew better than to eat too much. Gaining weight on prison food would look mighty suspicious, and he knew the others waited eagerly for any news he might have. "They're definitely from far elsewhere. Not only is their language completely foreign, but their gestures as well."
"Outworlders?" Griff suggested. "Or from across the sea?"
"Yes." Tae suspected Griff wanted to know which, but the Easterner had no certain answers. "The Outworlders we've faced or heard of always have some sort of magical abilities. Gods, elves, dwarves. Spirit spiders and other creatures. These pirates seem human. At least, I would have used magic, if I had it, in their situation."
Griff nodded guardedly.
Tae suspected the King of Bearn was hiding disappointment. Tae had promised miracles and, so far, delivered very little. "They don't talk to one another nearly as much as I'd like or expect, and the ways I have to goad them usually don't work out well for me." His hand went instinctively to the bruises at his throat. "But I have managed to learn the basic rules of their language and enough individual words to make crude conversation, if I had to."
Griff 's next nod held out more hope.
"All I really know so far is that they hold us in complete contempt. They look at us…" Tae paused to regroup and make the proper point. "… all of us, not just the other prisoners, as animals to slaughter at their whim. They don't seem to differentiate at alclass="underline" soldiers, guards, men, women, children."
Matrinka shivered. Griff 's expression turned sour. Darris leaned in to listen, but Rantire seemed more interested in watching the door. The page simply recorded everything, as custom dictated. He could not share one word of what he witnessed with anyone except the Sage who guarded Bearn's history and secrets with the spirit and ferocity of an eagle.