I walked back to the courtyard, passing the first pair of my men on their way to collect a corpse from the front of the house. By the time all twelve corpses had been removed, the centurion had returned with Donuil, who had been festooned with chains the day before. I did not dare acknowledge him, for Caspar and Memnon would undoubtedly be watching from the shadowed interior of the open doorway. I spoke to the centurion, telling him to strike off the young giant's chains. He dispatched a man at the run for a chisel and maul and I stood there, ignoring Donuil until the man returned. When the chains were off, I drew my sword and waved Donuil towards the front of the house. He played his part well, looking suspicious and confused as his eyes went from me to the darkened house and then back again. "Go!" I barked at him, and he went, unwillingly and suspiciously, holding his body tense as though to flee at every step.
He stopped in the doorway for a space, then disappeared inside. Within moments, the other hostages began to emerge, blinking in the daylight, which was growing brighter as the sun rose higher. I grasped the first girl, Eunice, by the wrist and asked her about my aunt. She told me that Luceiia was well, only lightly bound and unharmed. When the hostages had all passed by, most of them in tears, I approached the doorway again.
"Now we can end this," I called into the emptiness beyond the doorway. "You are but three men, defended by your threats against the woman you hold. Tell me what you want, quickly. I want you far from my sight and smell."
To my surprise, Caspar stepped into the open doorway and stood there looking at me with his usual sneer. "We wish to leave here quickly and safely. That is all. In that, you and I are almost in agreement. Have you no wish to ask me how the twelve men died?"
Again I felt surprise, this time at the vanity that prompted this question. "None at all," I answered.
"That surprises me, but I am going to tell you anyway. You see this?" He held something up, pinched between his thumb and forefinger. I squinted, but the distance between us was too great and I could see nothing. His smile grew wider. "Small, is it not? It is a thorn, Merlyn, an ordinary thorn that has been steeped in a poison distilled from the venom of a variety of snakes. It will kill a strong man in moments, if the thorn is skillfully placed. Memnon and I are expert in the placing of them. Each of the twelve was pricked by one of these." I said nothing and he went on, "Your aunt has several of these in her clothes. She does not know they are there, let alone where they are. A scratch from any one of them will end her—unpleasantly. A well- placed blow from either Memnon or myself will drive a thorn home. An embrace of any kind, for example from a would-be rescuer attempting to snatch her away from danger, would be almost equally certain to produce death. What I am saying, Caius Merlyn, is that if you have plans to rid yourself of us in any drastic and final fashion, you must be sure that we are far removed from the old woman before you do anything, lest we should fall on her."
The calm, dispassionate tone of his voice as he spoke these words made me grit my teeth and I closed my eyes to mask my anger. Opening them again, I saw Donuil, his hands upraised in a double fist, directly behind Caspar. The Egyptian's reactions were lightning fast. The instant he saw the change of expression in my eyes, for I could not hide it, he threw himself into motion. But he was too late. Donuil's blow took him between the shoulders, knocking him towards me. I stepped to meet him, noting his fingers spread wide as he fell, and kicked him with all of my strength beneath the arch of his ribs, driving the breath from him in an explosion of agony. He wrapped his arms around my leg, trying to drag me down, but there was no strength in him and I avoided him easily, leaving him squirming on the ground as I leaped towards the doorway and Donuil.
"Where is Memnon?"
"Over there, by the wall." He pointed towards the huddled shape of the other magician, adding unnecessarily, "He is dead."
"Aunt Luceiia," I called, trying to condense all the urgency in the world into my voice, "Don't move! Stand where you are! Stand absolutely still!" I could hear the running footsteps of soldiers outside, coming towards the doors, and in the gloomy interior I could see my aunt, standing against a wall on my right. Her arms were bound and she stood motionless.
"Caius," she said, "I could not move even if I wished to."
"Thank God!" I crossed to her and stood in front of her. "Auntie, there are thorns among your clothes, thorns steeped in venom. The slightest scratch from one of them could kill you, so please try not to move at all until I have one of your women come here and disrobe you."
She shook her head in the briefest disagreement. "Don't be silly, Cay, there are no thorns. The ugly one was just about to put them among my clothes when that giant young man killed him."
I turned to Donuil, who stood beside me. "Is that true?"
"Aye. You told me to protect her if I saw her threatened, did you Hot?"
"I did." A wave of relief rippled over me. "I did indeed. I'm glad you remembered. You will not regret it." I drew my sword and cut my aunt free. She seemed completely unflustered by the whole situation.
"Thank you, Nephew," she said. "These people have converted my house into a sty for swine. Please send my servants home quickly. They have work to do."
I watched her in amazement as she bustled away towards her family room at the back of the house. When I looked at Donuil, he was grinning at me.
"What are you grinning at?"
"Your face. Have you lived this long and not learned that old women are the strongest creatures in this world? Besides, I am a free man, am I not? I have a right to smile."
I sighed and smiled back at him. "Aye, that you are, and that you do. I owe you far more than freedom, Donuil."
"I am glad."
"What do you mean?"
"That you owe me more than my freedom."
"How so? Why?"
His grin widened. "Because now I call the debt. I want to stay here in Camulod and be your adjutant, as we discussed. Now that you are in debt to me, you cannot refuse me.
I gazed at him in some amazement. "You wish to stay here? Of your own free will?"
"I do, and you can use me, too. Your colony has lost a lot of good men recently."
"Fine," I said, "Wonderful! So be it. We will discuss the terms of your service later, when there is more time for such things. Right now there is a sorcerer to attend to." I started to look around me. "Where was Memnon when you killed him?"
Donuil pointed to my right. "Over there, by the wall, he stood just behind your aunt."
"What happened to the thorns?"
The big Celt shrugged. "I don't know, I didn't see any thorns, but I wasn't looking for anything. I thought he was going to use his hands to hurt her. If he was holding anything, he probably dropped it right there."
I bent over and looked at the floor and there was a small strip of cloth, folded over on itself. I picked it up carefully and opened it to see that it contained a row of black thorns, each about an inch long, stitched through the cloth about a quarter of an inch apart. I counted twenty-five of the deadly slivers and looked up to find Donuil staring at the thing in my hand.
"That's a lot of death," I said.
"A lot of danger," was his low-voiced response. "Those things ought not to be left lying around. Someone could stand on them."
I folded the cloth up and tucked it carefully into my scrip. "I will look after these," I said. "Don't worry, Donuil, no one else will be exposed to them."
We walked out into die courtyard together to find Caspar on his knees, his arms tied around a spear thrust across his back and in front of his elbows. Four soldiers guarded him. I stopped in front of him and looked directly into his face. There was no sneer on it now.