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Seven winding stone steps led to the lord’s chambers. Torches lit the way. The stench of the burning oil filled Aarak’s nostrils. He despised that smell. Better blood than oil any day.
Another door, huge and wooden, confronted him. Was it locked? And if it was, what could he do about it? And even if it wasn’t locked, what would happen when he sneaked inside the chambers? Would guards be waiting for him there? Or knife-toothed dogs, starved for flesh of any kind? Or Lord Stephen himself, waiting with his weapon?
The door was not locked. It yielded to him with the ease of a prostitute.
He passed beneath the arched doorway, locking the door behind him, the bloody sword he’d taken from one of the guards he’d killed held tightly in his barbarian hand.
Darkness. The scent of incense and tobacco smoke. The heady odor of good whiskey. Only slowly did his eyes trace the outlines of the spare chamber. An enormous pile of cleaned animal pelts dressed up as a bed sprawled in the center of the room. A large wooden table took up much of the north wall, with the remains of a meal, a loaf of bread, and a bottle of wine on it. Books, scrolls, and clothing were piled sloppily on another table. And the darkened fireplace, big enough for a man to stand in, performed the function of a wind tu
Aarak had just spied a second door sunken into the wall itself when it opened and out stepped Lord Stephen himself. He wore the military clothes of his realm, with a broadsword in a scabbard on his belt.
Aarak had no trouble seeing the lord because just to Stephen’s right walked what appeared to be a short troll-like being so ugly of face that Aarak felt his stomach knot. The little creature wore the pointed hat and comic green suit of the leprechaun. But it was the twisted stubby features and absurd little gray goatee and bulging, angry eyes that held Aarak’s attention. He couldn’t recall ever seeing a being of any kind this repellent. There was even an odor wafting from the ugly little man that was as angry as his eyes.
“Stay where you are, assassin. Or I will curse you dead,” the little man growled.
“I didn’t know leprechauns knew magic.”
“He’s assured me he does,” said Lord Stephen. “He said he can protect me against any kind of intruder-including one sent by my brother.”
“I just want the amulet. I don’t care about killing you.”
Lord Stephen smirked. He looked eerily like his brother. “Lord William isn’t strong enough to keep her inside the amulet. And if she ever escapes, she has the strength and will to be rid of both of us. She feels we have defiled her youth. So all I can do is keep her-” He raised a large metal amulet the color of silver, jagged sun rays bursting from the center of the piece. In the center, Aarak saw the beautiful Drusilla pounding against the glass of the amulet. She was shrieking something, but no sound was coming from the jewelry. And-she was completely naked. Aarak felt his mouth go dry with lust and his nervous system begin to crackle and burn. She had always had this effect on him.
Lord Stephen laughed. “You can barely restrain yourself, can you, Aarak? And I don’t blame you. I’m tempted to let her out, too. How long can any sane man gaze upon a woman so beautiful and not want to make love to her? But I know what she’s up to. That’s why I’ve forbidden the amulet to carry any sounds she makes. At night when I was trying to sleep next to my wife, I kept the amulet on my table, and Drusilla would whisper the carnal things she wanted to do with me if I’d only let her out of the amulet. But I can’t. All I think about is making love to her. But if I do-she’ll be gone from me forever.”
“So you’re as much in a prison as she is.”
“That’s one way to put it, I suppose. Yes, both of us prisoners. So you see, I’m doing my brother a favor by keeping her here within the amulet. That way she won’t break his heart as she has broken mine.”
“She’s already broken his heart. Many times over.”
Lord Stephen drew and flourished his broadsword. “She won’t be going with you, if that’s why you’re here. I have Fitzpatrick here to defend me. I bought him yesterday at a marketplace that had nothing but magical people for sale.”
“He may be a good pickpocket, perhaps a good arsonist because he can climb in and out of tight places, and maybe even a good burglar for the same reason. But he’s not magic, Lord Stephen. No matter what he tells you, he’s not magical.”
Lord Stephen’s face flushed with rage and his burning gaze fell to the twisted face of the tiny man. “Is this true? You can’t cast a spell that will protect me from him?”
But he was foolish to let his rage distract him. It made him reckless. For a moment, he forgot that the man standing in front of him was an assassin. And so it was that Aarak made his move. He quickly ripped the seer’s stiletto from his belt and flung it with such precision that it pierced the exact center of Lord Stephen’s right eye. And then, leaping to the man, Aarak swept the broadsword from his hand and cleanly cleaved the man’s head from his neck. The head went flying across the room to smash against a wall and then fall to the floor.
Aarak scowled at the little man. “I thought you could protect him with one of your magical spells.”
The ugly little man shrugged. “I didn’t have time to summon my powers.”
“I’ll have to remember that the next time somebody runs a blade through me.” He shook his head at the little man’s bold lie.
He then walked over, knelt down on one knee and snapped the amulet from the chain around Lord Stephen’s stump of a neck. Blood still pulsed from the raw wound.
“You and your master haven’t thought this through,” Fitzpatrick said.
Aarak stood up, stared down at the naked woman screaming inside the window of the amulet. Her sexuality was diminished somewhat by her rage. But only somewhat.
“Neither you nor your master will be able to set her free unless you know the proper words.”
“Lord William has many wizards in his realm. One of them will be able to figure this out.”
Now it was Fitzpatrick’s turn to smirk. “You are an arrogant man, Aarak. Not even you and all your self-confidence can free her. Only I now know the words.”
“You only worked for him one day.”
“Yes, but he kept the words in his book on magic and the supernatural. I tore the page out unbeknownst to him. I memorized them and then burned the page. Lord Stephen, I’m sorry to say, was not in danger of becoming a genius. Wine would have made him forget the words-so he would have had to depend on me.”
Aarak was forced to look at the little man in a different way. Comic as the twitchy little bastard was, his eyes now gleamed with a smug knowledge that Aarak desperately needed.
“I wouldn’t set her free anyway,” Aarak said. “You heard Lord Stephen. She’d just run away.”
“Those words were for your ears only. He wanted to dissuade you from killing him. She simply wants to enjoy life. And she can hardly do that while trapped in this amulet. I know you want to free her-I can see it in your eyes. Were I in your position, I would do the same.”
Aarak brought the point of the broadsword over so that it rested under the leprechaun’s chin. “You seem to forget that I have the medallion, not you. But you can write those words down for me.”
The hideous man shook his head. “If I do, you’ll kill me.”
Aarak’s grin was mirthless. “If you don’t, I’ll cut off one of your fingers every minute until you change your mind.”
“Swear that you will let me live if I do as you ask, and I’ll show you a secret way out of the castle.”
Aarak raised an eyebrow. The little man was cleverer than he looked. “You have my word that you will live if you give me the words to control the amulet and show me a way out of here.”