Once Upon a Castle - Jill Gregory [120]
Snapping his fingers, Lector summoned two of the guards from the far end of the chamber. Rill faced them, the crystal glowing in his hand. He turned to one, said a swift phrase, and the man’s eyes became unfocused, like those of a sleepwalker. The magician addressed the other soldier.
“Kill him!”
The second man paled. “Lord Magician, he is my brother!”
“How tragic for you. He is a traitor and is about to assassinate Lord Lector. You will kill him, now!”
The man struggled against the magician’s spell but was no match for it. He drew his sword with odd, jerky movements of a stick puppet, at the same time struggling to keep the blade sheathed. Sweat broke out on his brow, and it was apparent that he fought the magician’s order with every fiber in his body.
Then his vision altered. Instead of his brother’s face, he saw that of a stranger. A stranger with his sword poised to strike down Lord Lector. In a flash his weapon was out, and he struck the illusionary assassin through the heart. His brother fell lifeless at his feet.
Lector was astonished. “Effective, but rather cruel, given their relationship.”
The smile that distorted Rill’s features was most unpleasant. “I shall show mercy, then.” He turned to the soldier. “You have disgraced yourself. Fall upon your sword!”
Without the least hesitation, the second man did as he was ordered, spilling his life’s blood at the magician’s feet.
Lector had gone pale, but his color came flooding back. This was true black wizardry. With Rill’s aid, he would soon have everything he desired: the power of the Andun Crystal, a kingdom to rule…and the Princess Tressalara to warm his bed. He smiled at the memory of her beautiful face, her slender, womanly figure. Subduing her would give him enormous pleasure.
Until humiliating her no longer amused him. He touched his ruined cheek again. The wound had healed badly. Her death would not be an easy one. And that would give him even more pleasure.
He fixed the magician with a grim look. “My patience is at an end. We must draw Tressalara out of hiding.”
Rill hid his fear. “As I said, I have a new plan. You shall soon have the princess in your power, my lord.”
“Fah! How can you accomplish what my soldiers cannot?”
In answer, the magician drew him to the window. He opened the casement and pointed to the high tower where Elani and Lady Grette were held captive.
“I shall lay my trap…and set it with a bait that she cannot resist!”
6
Tressalara looked up between the trees along the riverbank as a white hawk circled overhead. “Rossmine!”
She whistled, and the bird plunged down like an arrow to land on a branch beside her. A thin message cylinder was tied to its left leg. Wondering, Tressalara removed it. The tiny scrap of paper bore a symbol like a crown, and three words in Elani’s writing: “Beware the trap!”
Relief that her friend had not suffered for helping her escape flooded through Tressalara. So Lector was planning a trap. But what, and when? And what was the meaning of the symbol? A trap for a princess, no doubt.
She must send word back that she was alive and well, and that she had received the message. Tressalara plucked a tiny translucent pebble from the riverbank and placed it in the cylinder. To anyone else it would be meaningless, but when Elani got the message she would understand. In their younger days, Lady Grette used to scold that the princess’s escapades were a constant annoyance to her. “By the heavens, highness, some days you are a sore trial to me. Like a pebble in my shoe!” she would grumble.
A sheen of tears came to Tressalara’s eyes. What she would not give to turn back time. She watched as Rossmine flew off, wishing that she herself had the power to fly away to the castle and reassure her friends.
Dashing the tears away, she returned to her tasks. There was no shirking on her part. She was willing to do anything, no matter how menial or difficult, to prove her discipline and devotion to the cause of freedom. She must prove to Cador and the rebels