Chapter Twenty-Six
The Suitor
Paula was nearest to the door when they heard the noise. They had all given up kicking and banging on the door and sat down again. Time had passed and they had become quiet. Anne was sat between Christine and Jo, Linda was sat next to Jo, and Paula was between Linda and the door. She was much nearer to the door, and she heard the noise first.
It sounded like something sharp scratching and scraping against the stone walls and floor. At first it was distant, but it quickly grew louder. It was regular and rhythmic, and as the sound grew louder, it was matched by a vibration in the floor.
Paula looked up at the door. She watched it vibrate slightly. Dust fell from the walls around the door jam. She watched it fall and land by the small gap under the door.
One by one, Anne, Jo, Christine and Linda all turned to look at the door, listening as the sound got louder and louder. The vibrations also grew stronger, until they could feel it in the stone walls they leaned against and it made their backs tingle. And just when the sound and vibrations were at their greatest, they suddenly stopped.
Anne leaned forwards. “What was that?”
Jo said, “It sounded like something walking passed outside.”
“Well, it must have gone now.”
“No it hasn’t,” Paula said in a soft voice. She was still staring at the bottom of the door, her eyes wide. She could see shadows, movement. She could smell something too; something she thought was strangely familiar but just beyond recognition.
There was a sudden, loud snort. It made them all jump. But while the rest of them heard it and were startled by the sound, Paula felt it. She felt the air move and saw the dust disappear under the door as if it were sucked away by a giant vacuum cleaner. It blew her hair and made her skirt billow.
Christine grabbed Anne in her fright, and Linda and Jo hugged one another. All of them stared at the door and froze in their positions. All except Paula. She started to edge away from the door, still staring at the shadows that flickered in the small gap underneath it.
It was then that they saw it. It came under the door. It was long and wide and blood red in colour. A forked tongue. It slapped about and searched for something, anything. Paula felt the spittle on her leg as it slapped the floor close to her. In rising horror she realised it was searching for her. She screamed. All the girls screamed.
In wild panic, Paula scrambled away from the door, climbing over Jo and Linda, causing them to scream even louder. Anne reached across to Paula, grabbing her arm and pulling her away just as the tongue disappeared and something heavy banged against the door, shaking it. It banged against the door again and again, and the wooden door frame began to splinter.
In a mad scramble of arms and legs, the terrified girls all crawled and scampered further away from the door, climbing and falling over each other in the process. Anne did her best to help them and calm them, to try and get them all away from the door as quickly as possible without injury. But she was just as terrified as they were, and suddenly, she was the one nearest to the door.
Abruptly, the banging stopped. Anne stared up at the door. Part of the wooden door frame had splintered and fallen in, and the big wooden door was now at an angle, but it was still there.
There was now silence in the dungeon cave. A silence broken only by the sound of their own panting.
Then the door flew open. All the girls screamed, and although she didn’t realise it, Anne screamed with them. But their screaming stopped almost as soon as it began.
Sir Henry stood in the doorway, Sir Morgan behind him. He stared at the screaming girls and their teacher, a look of anger on his face.
“Silence!” he shouted. “Or you will not be fed!”
The screaming quickly stopped, more in surprise than as a result of Sir Henry’s command. And while the girls huddled together and stared at the two men in terror, Anne stared at them in wonder.
When they had all been captured, Anne had been knocked unconscious very early on, and although she had glimpsed the men who had chased them, it had only been in the distance, or for a few panic stricken moments. This was the first time she had seen any of them so close and so clearly, and to her, their appearance had been as unexpected as was their arrival. Anne stared at them, completely stunned.
One of them was quite plainly a medieval Knight; he even had a colourful emblem on his chest. The crest of Sir Morgan L’Ajarn was a golden griffin to the left of a diagonal gold band. It was set against a red background on his breast-plate and looked very impressive. With his chain-mail, sword and cloak he looked every part as if he had walked off the set of a film about the Knights of the roundtable.
Sir Henry was no different. Although he wore no breast-plate or chain-mail, his clothes were colourful and richly embroidered. The cloth looked heavy, and jewels were sewn in among the embroidery. The colours were mainly gold, silver and red. He looked rich, pompous and well fed.
For a moment, both men ignored their prisoners. Sir Morgan reached up and traced his hand over the damaged door frame.
“Me thinks we arrived none too soon, Sir Henry,” he said. “I’ll wager Gil-Yan dallied here on her return.”
Sir Henry hardly glanced at the damaged door. “She is weak in the face of such easy temptation, and her hunger is great. I must talk with her.”
“Then go, Sir Henry, I will see to the prisoners.”
Sir Henry grunted and left.
Sir Morgan waved to the men behind him and they went into the dungeon. Some of the men held pikes and stood watching the girls while others brought meat, bread and water. The food was on rough plates on a tray and the water in a large bucket. They placed the tray and the bucket on the floor by the terrified girls as they sat huddled together.
While his men brought in the food, Sir Morgan stepped forward and stood over Anne Jenkins. He looked down at her and smiled. Her knee-length skirt had risen up slightly as she had crawled about the floor, and now it exposed rather more of her legs. Her blouse was generally pulled out of place and untucked from her skirt, and her short brown hair was all tussled and untidy. And everywhere, in her clothes and in her hair, there was straw from the floor of the dungeon cave.
Sir Morgan’s smile broadened and he placed his hands on his hips. “You are a comely wench. Me thinks you would make a handsome wife.”
“Me thinks you can go to Hell!” Anne replied and kicked him in the groin.
As Sir Morgan doubled up in pain, Anne jumped to her feet. She was about to hit him again when the other men grabbed her and restrained her, pushing her back against the wall.
Paula, Linda, Jo and Christine all jumped up and rushed to help their teacher, but the other men pushed them back with their pikes. They were rough and uncaring, and jabbed at Jo and Linda when they were slow to obey. In a few seconds the dungeon was filled with the sounds of screaming and shouting.
Anne saw the way the girls were being treated and struggled harder.
“Leave my girls alone!” she cried out, and kicked at anyone she could reach. She made good contact with another man, but instead of hanging back, he drew a dagger from his belt and stepped forward.
“No!” Sir Morgan shouted, and climbing rather painfully to his feet he shoved aside the man who had drawn the dagger. “These prisoners are mine! And I will say who is to be put to death and who is to live!”
The man stared at him for a moment and then nodded and put away his dagger. “Aye, my Liege. I beg your pardon.” He struck his chest with his fist and kept his head down.
Sir Morgan turned to face Anne. She still struggled, but two men held her arms while another now held her legs. The three of them held her so tightly that they virtually carried her aloft as her body wriggled and twisted.
Sir Morgan removed his mailed gloves and tucked them in his belt. And reaching out with both hands he grabbed Anne by the waist. He ran his hands over her hips and stomach, squeezing her and feeling her. Anne began to struggle
even harder.
“You bastard! Coward!” she snarled at him.
In reply, Sir Morgan suddenly grabbed Anne’s head, holding her firmly. “I’d kill a man for saying less!” he snarled.
“Would you get three others to hold him for you while you did it?” was Anne’s quick retort.
Sir Morgan stared into her eyes, and then grabbed her nose with one hand. Anne cried out with the sudden pain. Sir Morgan ignored her. He felt her damaged nose, and then turning her head he felt the lump where she had been struck.
“Your injuries are slight,” he said, releasing her. He stepped back. “You have much spirit. I like that. But be warned, wench, you’ll live only so long as I decree it. And if you anger me too much, I may change my mind.”
“Up yours! I’m not scared of you!”
Then Paula shouted, “You tell him, Miss!”
Anne resumed her struggles. “Let me go!”
Sir Morgan looked unconcerned. “As you wish.”
He waved his hand at the three men who restrained her, and as one, they let go. Anne fell to the floor with a thump. But she didn’t stay there for long. She jumped up straight away, hesitated as she felt the pain in her back, and then drew back her fist.
Sir Morgan didn’t move a muscle as he spoke. “Strike me, and the smallest of your girls will be killed.”
Anne froze, her fist still raised.
Behind her, the girls glanced at each other, and Jo quickly realised that she was the shortest. She hastily squeezed herself between Christine and Paula and the wall, and Linda stood in front of her, shielding her from the men who pointed their pikes at them.
Anne looked back at the girls and then turned to face Sir Morgan once more. “You wouldn’t.”
Sir Morgan smiled and nodded. “If it meant that I could get what I wanted, I would kill all four of them.”
Anne was horrified. “But they’re only girls, sixteen! You can’t kill them!”
“No?” Sir Morgan shrugged. “Then maybe I should give them to my men. Sixteen is old enough for that, is it not?”
Anne grew angry and raised her fist once more, but Sir Morgan quickly wagged his finger at her. “Ah-ah!”
Anne lowered her fist and her body seemed to slump. “You bastard,” she muttered.
Sir Morgan took a step forward and grabbed Anne by the throat, his other hand around her waist. She didn’t resist, so he drew her closer, pressing his body against hers. She could feel the cold metal of his breastplate through her blouse. Their faces were now so close that Anne thought he was going to kiss her. She turned her head and compressed her lips in preparation, closing her eyes just as tightly. But the kiss never came, and Anne opened her eyes to find Sir Morgan smiling at her.
“If I threw you to the floor now and took you, would you fight?” he asked her.
“Would you hurt the girls?”
“Of course.”
“Then I wouldn’t fight.”
“You would do that for them?”
Anne nodded. “I’m their teacher. I’m responsible for them. I’ve already lost half of them. I can’t lose the others.”
Sir Morgan heard the pain in her voice and saw the look in her eyes. He also nodded.
“Responsibility is a double edged sword, is it not?” he said, and to Anne’s surprise he released her and walked to the door.
“Out!” he shouted to his men, and they all hastily obeyed. The door slammed shut and Anne and the girls were alone once more.
Anne slumped against the wall and breathed out with a sigh. In a moment she was surrounded by Linda, Christine and Jo.
“Oh, are you alright, Miss?” Christine asked her.
Anne put her arms around them. “Yes, I’m fine! Are you alright?”
Christine nodded and Linda said, “They didn’t hurt us much. But we thought they were going to kill you!”
And Jo said, “I thought they were going to kill me!”
Behind them all, Paula sat on the floor by the food trays and said, “This meat tastes good. Are you having any?”
“Give them to me!” Gil-Yan’s deep voice was insistent and eager.
“No.” Sir Henry knelt by the edge of the pit. “You have already eaten well today. You even look larger, Gil-Yan.”
“But my hunger is great!” Gil-Yan hissed. “Give them to me! I could smell them in the air! I could taste them! Their blood is sweet! Give them to me!”
Sir Henry ignored her demands and instead reached down and patted her. “And what will you eat on the morrow?” he asked. “No, Gil-Yan, we must conserve what we have. You cannot have them just yet. Now you will speak of them no more, or you will anger me.”
Gil-Yan grizzled and grumbled but said nothing.
Sir Henry smiled. “Do not despair, my love. You will be fed soon, and well. When the artifact is complete, we will march on Ellerkan, and there will be battles and food a plenty. Is that not something to look forward to?”
Gil-Yan purred in anticipation. “Yes, my bond. I understand.”
“Good. The artifact will soon be finished, so you will not have long to wait. But it is a shame that other artifacts of a similar nature did not also appear through the Portal as did the first. If they had, I’m sure L’Roth would have been far more manageable. As it is, they have all been of no value. It is strange, Gil-Yan, that your success has not been repeated.”
“I have no control of what is sent, only on where and when it arrives. And soon even that control will be gone.”
“Then we are fortunate indeed that what we required was sent, and that your other self could manipulate it.”
“My other self is unharmed?” There was a hint of anxiousness in Gil-Yan’s voice, and she shifted her position on the wall of the pit, her claws scraping the stone as she moved a little higher.
Sir Henry was dismissive. “Did you think I would let you be harmed, my love?”
“You are my BOND; I know you will protect me. But Le-Roth has no love for either of us, and he is a strong warrior.”
“But his strength is out-weighed by his greed. He needs the artifact, and he needs you to complete it. He will not harm your other self, rest assured.”
“But he threatened me!” Gil-Yan exclaimed.
Sir Henry shrugged. “He was angry, and you did eat his men.”
“They had already fallen!” Gil-Yan replied quickly, her voice almost sounding hurt by the accusation. “I killed and ate only those who did not matter! The man who rode the wagon, and the Insiders.” She uttered the last word slowly and with revulsion, adding, “Their flesh I relished more than any! They were wrong! Incorrect! Defective! An abomination! Now they reside inside me, their genetic structure purged and absorbed. Now they are right, correct. Now they are true insiders!”
Sir Henry laughed and reached down to pat and stroke Gil-Yan once more. “Would you have also eaten L’Roth as he said?”
“He is our enemy!” Gil-Yan hissed. “He must die!”
“But not yet!” Sir Henry quickly replied. “We need him. Lord William L’Roth is related to the King, and the people in Ellerkan will not accept another so easily without some legitimate claim. No, you must not eat him just yet. He is essential to our plans.”
“But if he is crowned, he will become powerful!”
Sir Henry nodded. “Powerful, but short-lived. Once he is crowned and the people accept him, then we will no longer need him. At that time you may eat him with my blessing, but until then, we must keep his attention on the matter in hand.”
Sir Henry had continued patting and stroking Gil-Yan as he spoke, and now her voice almost purred in delight at his touch as she answered.
“You are wise, my bond. I am fortunate that it was you that came upon me. Another would have struck at me, or finished my other self while I lay weak and vulnerable. You did neither. Instead you tended to my wounds, fed me, and kept me safe until I could grow. Now we plot together for the Kingdom where we dwell.
And from our success here, other Kingdoms will fall. I am content with what we do. My bond to you is complete, and my purpose in life fulfilled. Leave me. Go to my other self. Let me sleep while she awakes. Let me give to you freely what others maimed me trying to take. Go now, Sir-Hen-Re. Go to me, and consume me there as I lay here, sensing and responding to your touch.”
Sir Henry stood up. Without a word he straightened his clothing, turned and walked quickly from the chamber. Behind him, Gil-Yan relaxed her grip and slid down the wall of the pit, her claws raking against the stone.