"More foolish talk like that and I will clout you on the head. Content yourself that I stay. There is nothing in this castle I fear."
Tander, ignoring pain, flung himself forward fruitlessly, cutting further into his flesh with the iron bite of his manacles, then hung against them, limp with defeat. "And if you're wrong, I will have your fate on my conscience. Some protector I turned out to be."
She stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his while his hands strained against the chains to reach her. She didn't know whether it was to hold her or push her away, but he did not tear his own hungry mouth from hers.
"Your days in chains have affected your mind. Since when have I needed a protector? You underestimate me . . . " She ran a finger along a lash mark and her voice hardened, "and my anger." She could see the relief in his eyes at her touch, the turquoise glow of her necklace reflected on his sweaty skin as the pain abated.
A voice behind her startled her. "In my entire acquaintance with Tander, I have only found reason to envy him."
She spun around, crouching, a throwing dagger instantly in her hand, hearing the clank of chains behind her as Tander strained again against his bonds. She flung the dagger unerringly into a guard's throat, but was forestalled from throwing another by a strange lethargy that immobilized her muscles and spawned a strange pain in her midsection. She fell to her knees and fell sideways to lean against a stone block. She saw the red glow on her skin and found the strength to spit with a mouth still under her control. Magic!
Facing her was a man, obviously lord of this ill-kept keep, flanked with a slight balding man, a sorcerer, on one side, and a thick-lipped guard on the other. The leader was only a few inches shorter than Tander, but just as broad. His chest was bare, but he wore a wool cloak clasped with a copper broach emblazoned with the figure of a jackal. At his side dangled the well-worn hilt of a sword. The copper band in his red-gold hair proclaimed his gentle birth, belied by the ugly curl of his lip.
The sorcerer, dressed in shabby green silk, look dismayed at Layla's grimace of pain. He tried to get the attention of the leader. "Lord Raylee, there is something wrong. She should not be in such pain!" Layla spat again. Amateur. The tattoo on the bridge of his nose proclaimed his sorcerer status: fifth level. Odds were his teacher was disreputable else this bungler would never have attained that rank.
Raylee ignored his hired magician.
Layla mouthed, her jewelry glowing with preternatural light, and managed to gain enough control of one her hands to reach into her belt and pull a second throwing knife. Pain notwithstanding, she flung it perfectly into the remaining guard's throat, to the shock of the sorcerer. The sorcerer swallowed convulsively and mumbled again, increasing the stasis spell and, to a greater degree, the pain in her midsection. Layla managed to smile wickedly at his fear. "You're next, spell-slinger."
Raylee laughed at this. "Fine talk, Jenri witch. Someone told me you'd be foolish enough to come. I would have expected a Jenri to be smarter than that. But, as you can see, I was prepared with Merlo, here."
"Incompetent dabbler," Layla managed through gritted teeth.
Raylee laughed again. "How brave your words, yet you are trapped within his spell. Although I have to admit, I expected him to be more useful in the capture of the King of Amerland. I'm not complaining. We have sent messengers off to get a ransom for Amerland's absent king. I suppose we could expect some recompense for his lovely bride, as well." Raylee walked forward and crouched, grabbing Layla's chin in his hand and looking her over carefully. "You will be more entertainment than Tander here in the meantime. And, if they don't come through, slavers might find you worth a coin or two."
With Tander straining at his chains again, Raylee stroked his hand along her cheek to her lips, smiling, a smile that dissolved into the rictus of extreme pain when she clamped her teeth on his finger, biting down so hard he heard the bone snap. His high-pitched scream echoed deafeningly through the dank dungeon as he yanked and pulled on his hand, only releasing it at the expense of his finger's top knuckle, which Layla smugly spat out.
"They might not find me that valuable after all."
Raylee pulled his sheathed sword from his belt and swung it furiously, smashing it into the side of Layla's face and knocking her head painfully into the stone block. Tander threw himself violently against his chains, managing to yank the staple holding one chain to the wall part way out with his exertions. "Why don't you come pick on me, you bastard? Her locked in a spell, you have the balls to strike a woman! I'll show you how a man fights! Layla, are you alright?"
Layla, her eyes focused perfectly on Raylee's, said softly. "This walking corpse cannot hurt me, Tander. Trust that his life is all but over."
"Always with the brave talk," Raylee hissed, tearing a sleeve from the sorcerer's robe to bind his wounded hand. "You won't be so smug when I'm through with you, little witch. But, I'll wait a bit for that. Right now, I'll settle for relieving you of your jewelry." He gestured for one of his guards to come forward, but then recalled that both of his guards lay dead, throats destroyed. He sneered. Careful to avoid her mouth, he slid his hands around her neck to undo the silver clasp of her necklace. The necklace, glowing with magic, only shocked him in return, so that, again, he howled in pain. Layla's smile widened.
Raylee pulled his hand back as if to backhand her. "Release your spell, witch."
Layla managed to raise an eyebrow. "It's tied to your magician's spell. Until he releases his, I cannot release mine."
"You lie!"
Layla couldn't shrug, but the sentiment was clear. "Your trained semi-magical monkey can confirm what I say, as if I cared at all."
"Merlo!?"
"It's certainly possible and, I suspect, true," Merlo stuttered. "Beside, my lord, I think the spell has gone awry, else she would not be in so much pain. Really, sire, I beg you allow me to release it."
Raylee snarled, scowling. After a moment, his brow cleared. He walked past her carefully and unsheathed his dagger, resting the tip against Tander's throat above the band. "I can kill him in a heartbeat if you dare try anything. Merlo, release your spell. Then, you, Jenri witch, you will remove your jewelry and leave it on the floor in front of you."
"Don't be daft, you pathetic excuse for a fungus! She'll kill you without thought," scoffed Tander. "Layla, don't worry about me. This idiot probably couldn't figure out where I keep my brain anyway. Toss a knife into his gut. Raylee, you honorless scum, thrust away, go on, I dare you! My fleas have more courage than you!"
The red glow about Layla ceased and, obediently, her necklace also stopped glowing. Layla, breathing hard, collapsed to the ground. A part of her noted that the pain in her midsection had gone, but had left behind a throbbing ache that she found disturbing. After a moment, she managed to pull herself to her hands and knees, still not looking at Raylee and apparently still recovering. Raylee smiled at her submissive posture.
Without the slightest preamble, she spun on one knee, her other leg swinging around in an arc that caught Raylee in the ankle. He fell sideways, his dagger arm flinging outward for balance, his other scrabbling against Tander to keep from falling. Layla, in the process of coming up, slammed the heel of her hand up into Raylee's nose, thrusting the cartilage into his brain. Raylee crumpled, dead. Layla avoided the weight of his body when it fell.
Still half-crouching, Layla took an instant to check the lack of pulse, then smiled. "You underestimated Tander, but you respected him. Pity you weren't smart enough to do the same for me." She pulled his dagger out of his hand and then flung it across the room before adding, "Not that it would have made the slightest difference in the end result."
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