III.

...And Into the Fire

Sometimes I wonder how I've stayed alive so long.

They had the grappling lines on my lander the moment I exited the 'lock, I'd already decided who had attacked The Alcatraz, and why, without seeing the attacking ship. It could not have been MacFie. He already had me. Piracy is usually confined to merchant ships and luxury liners. That left Donovon. It was his cruiser, The Princess, which had killed The Alcatraz, and was now towing me back to Castle Keep.

I guess Donovon was not pleased with me. He could have had my lander reeled into The Princess' hold, but didn't. Maybe he was just taking no chances with someone who could escape from a prison ship. I didn't blame him. I took the opportunity to catch up on my sleep. Landers may be a little on the small side, but so am I.

I awoke in orbit around Castle Keep. The Princess was finally reeling me in, preparing to land. I hadn't much time. Although lander designs vary in detail, they are all basically the same. I took advantage of this and set up a program in the flight computer. If I was ever to get off Castle Keep alive, it would come in handy.

I settled back and waited for The Princess' doors to close behind me. I had no intention of making trouble for the men coming for me. They had the weapons. All I had was me.

We landed at the spaceport from which Melisande and I had left Castle Keep. The King's castle was just a few klicks across the marsh. Since being taken by The Princess, no one had said a word to me. Donovon wasn't aboard (I really had not expected him to be) but evidently he had given orders I shouldn't be spoken with. That suited me. I had already gotten myself in enough trouble by speaking to people. As a rule, I only allow myself one mistake per year. I used that up in a bar on Earth.

Before I was trundled off into a waiting ground vehicle, I saw The Alcatraz' lander being taken out of The Princess. A paint crew had already begun disguising it. I nodded my approval. Donovon may have been a bit reckless attacking an Earth prison ship, but he was no fool.

Those thoughts were cut short with the slamming of the lorry's door. I was off to face King Donovon. Or would he conduct the questioning personally? I thought he would.

There were no windows in the back of the lorry. I had to visualize our route. If they were trying to keep our destination secret, they were doing a very amateurish job. Spinning a blindfolded prisoner to shake up his sense of direction is one thing, but driving around in a circle is a waste of time, especially at speed. Besides, there was only one road at that end of the spaceport. I have never liked working with or against non-professionals. It tends to make me over-confident. Even an amateur can kill you by accident.

Keeping that in mind, I waited patiently for us to reach the castle, toying with the ring Melisande had given me. My all too brief time with her was filled to bursting with memories. They all came back to me as I twisted the ring on my finger. Would I ever see her again? I would, even if I had to kill everyone on Castle Keep in single combat. That, I swore to myself.

Below every self-respecting castle is a dungeon, and Donovon's was no exception. The walls of my cell were cool and damp, the only light filtered in through the heavily barred door. There was nowhere to sit except the filthy floor. That was all right, I'd never been a fanatic about cleanliness.

Apparently I had missed dinner. With stomach rumbling, I fell asleep on the hard floor. I relived my escape with Melisande in my dreams.

I awoke to the sound of a key being fitted into the cell door's lock. Two grim-faced guards picked me up none too gently and dragged me out into the corridor. We didn't have far to go. The interrogation chamber was very near my cell.

Interrogation chamber, indeed. Someone had assembled a collection of the more primitive instruments' of torture from Old Earth. Some of them looked to be at least one thousand years old. I didn't wonder if they still worked. The fact that I was brought there told me they did.

The guards put me on a table, tied my legs to one end and my hands to a wheel at the other, then left me. I had the idea someone was going to attempt to lengthen me. I would try to talk them out of it. I had gotten used to being short.

Melisande's father came in, accompanied by my two guards and a man in a black hood. The torture began the moment I saw him. He was eating a leg of something batter-fried. My dinner-less and breakfast-less stomach made rude noises.

Donovon nodded to the black-hooded gentleman, who cranked the wheel just enough to take up what little slack there was in the ropes which bound me. I got the hint. My stomach quieted.

"Now," began Donovon, leaning well over and breathing roasted ambrosia into my face. "You can die quickly, or a wee bit at a time. It's all up to you."

"Shouldn't there be a third choice in there somewhere?" I asked.

"Such as?"

"Such as not dying at all." My elbows made popping noises as the wheel was turned.

"Does that answer your question, laddie?" Donovon smiled. "To six places," I managed to reply.

"Good," he said. "Now I have some questions for you. Answer them quickly and, of course, truthfully, and I'll see you get a good meal and some clean clothes before you are killed. Otherwise..."

The black hood gave the wheel another twist. My knees went off like twin popguns. I winced.

"All right, then," continued Donovon, "Now that we understand each other. How much did MacFie pay you to assassinate Princess Melisande?"

That was an odd question. What could it possibly matter how much I was to be paid? I never collected any of it.

"Nothing," I answered. A jagged bolt of lightning shot from my ankles to my shoulders.

"Let's try it again..." started Donovon.

"Really," I broke in. "I never collected a credit of it."

"He cheated you?"

"No," I said. "He's still alive, isn't he?" No one is stupid enough to cheat an assassin. "I didn't fulfill the contract. If anything, I cheated him." I attempted a smile. I wasn't proud of breaking a contract, but neither was I pleased with being drugged, kidnapped, and jailed.

"Didn't fulfill the contract?" asked Donovon. "What do you mean?"

"MacFie hired me to assassinate Melisande. But I didn't."

The look on Donovon's face was something to see. All this time he had thought his daughter dead. I wondered how he would take the next surprise.

"Not dead," he said quietly to himself. Then, to me, he asked, "She's alive?" His hands pulled at my shirt, choking off any reply I could have made. He was dislocating my shoulders, but I attempted to gurgle an answer.

"She's still alive?" he shouted. "Where is she? Where is my daughter?" The last was a roar.

I still couldn't answer. He let go my shirt and I slammed back down onto the table, but before I could catch my breath to answer, he himself turned the wheel three notches. I couldn't tell if the sound I heard was the ratchet falling into place or my joints pulling apart. There was too much pain to be sure of anything.

Through the haze I heard whispering behind me. Suddenly my left arm was wrenched around. I heard Donovon say something in that Highland dialect of Castle Keep, and the wheel was spun loose. My elbows and knees snapped back into place, which was not too much more painful then pulling them apart had been, and I was untied.

The two guards lifted me from the table, and I was carried out of the room. It was then that I fainted.

Better late then never, I always say.

When next I regained consciousness, I was not in my cell, but in one of the upper rooms of the castle. I thought, perhaps, I had gained a reprieve since I informed Donovon his daughter still lived. That it was only temporary I was sure. Generally speaking, no man is happy about his daughter eloping with a stranger. Why should kings be any different?

Still, they had laid out fresh clothing for me, standard Highland dress in the Donovon tartan, and a pitcher of water along with some food. A good meal and clean clothes before I died?

My joints ached as I moved, but somehow I managed to get into the kilt and blouse. Eating was much easier; there was more incentive. With sandwich in hand I set out trying to locate myself. As nearly as I could tell I was in the same part of the castle as the room where I found Melisande. Perhaps in one of the rooms alongside her's. The view from the window seemed to confirm it.

I tried the door and, as I expected, found it locked. I could hear no indication that a guard was posted in the hall. Was Donovon that confident in a too-high window and a locked door? Some of these colonials could use lessons in security. Perhaps I'd establish a school when I retired. Fathers-in-law, half price.

I checked the wall in the bed chamber, found the peephole, and began my search for the catch. I had the panel open in less than a minute. Not being a complete fool, I looked and listened before entering the secret passage. Obviously Donovon didn't know I knew about it. The door would have been locked or, at the very least, a guard would have been posted. But I wasn't taking any chances.

I grabbed a knife from the food platter, made a note to myself that the first class in my school would warn about the inadvisability of allowing prisoners weapons, and slipped into the darkness.

It was just like old times, though not as pleasant without my Melisande.

There was no difficulty in getting out into the alcove. I stood there listening for a moment or two. All was clear. I carefully slipped behind the tapestry and slid over to the next alcove. I was out the window and onto the ground quickly and silently. This close to freedom, not even my joints protested.

I followed the route Melisande had shown me, and made it across the drawbridge without attracting any attention. The castle and grounds were dead. Did everyone go to a party and forget about poor little me? I certainly hoped so. I set out across the marsh to the spaceport.

All during my trek I kept an eye out for Malcolm or his relations, but to no avail. What is it they say about there never being a Nessie around when you need one? I was forced to walk the whole way to the 'port. But that was the least of my worries.

The spaceport was not well lit. I guess they don't get much traffic at that time of night. I couldn't see any activity in the field. Keeping to the shadows around the periphery of the field, I looked for my borrowed lander. I found it without too much difficulty. Donovon made a little mistake in disguising it. Its fresh paint and shiny trim stuck out like a sore thumb even in the darkness. I used my best com- mando scurry to reach it. Kilts are wonderfully silent while running. If they weren't so conspicuous I think I would have permanently adopted it as my working outfit.

The lander's door was unlocked, for which I was thankful.

I jumped in and spun the door closed. Bracing myself against the bulkhead and using the computer remote at the door, I actuated the program I had set up before being taken. It was dangerous, but I felt I had no choice. Like most landers, this one had solid-fuel boosters. They were not meant for this sort of operation, but beggars can't be choosers. With any luck (and so far I seemed to be overflowing with the stuff) the engines would be warmed up by the time the rockets had burned out. Otherwise, I'd fall like a rock to the planet. A messy death, but over with fairly quickly.

The acceleration almost made me lose what little I had in my stomach. Just when I thought I was done for, the engines kicked in as the rockets sputtered their last. I was safe, and on my way home.

Or, at least, I would be provided I could avoid any pursuit until I was well out into space. I went to the control board and flipped on the aft screens. They were empty except for Castle Keep's disk. Radar showed no sign of any ships following. I sat in the couch and set the controls for Tor.

I was in for a long trip; weeks probably. The lander's provisions would be enough if I didn't overdo it. I decided to sleep most of the time, the autopilot could handle the ship.

"Melisande," I said, "I'll be with you in a month or so. But for now, I'll see you in my dreams."

I shut off the cabin lights and, bathed in the glow from the instrument panel, fell asleep.

Part Four