The Pendant Page 7

  “But we are not just talking about one occasion,” Nosmas yelled, unable to keep his anger under control.

  “I only have your word for that. My condition stands; no magic.” Falcon started to walk away from the two men, but found his way blocked by Eaglet, who had crept up to them unnoticed.

  “I think you should reconsider father.” Falcon stared at her in surprise. “The way everyone is reacting, this is obviously not the first time this has happened. It is going to be a long journey and I do not know about you, but I do not want to be woken by screaming every time I sleep.” Falcon could not deny that his daughter had a good point.

  “Very well,” he said finally. “You can try your spell. But you can use one spell only and my sword will be against the throat of your young lady friend the entire time. If I even suspect that you are up to something, I will slice her throat.”

  Nosmas resisted the urge to introduce the man’s face to his fist and nodded his agreement. Tor called Sam and Dean over to them and explained their concerns about Sam’s dreams and put forward their proposal. Dean was not keen to try it; the thought of Sam being naked in front of Nosmas made him uncomfortable. Sam’s only concern was for her unborn child. Nosmas assured her there would be no danger, so she agreed. While Tor explained to the others why they would be delaying the departure for a while, Nosmas requested that Eaglet escort them to the nearest source of water. It could be a river, stream or lake, it did not really matter as long as Sam would be able to float, thus enabling the spell to touch all of her body at once.

  Falcon walked up to Quartilla and bowed to her. “Will you come with me?” he asked politely. She threw a questioning glance at Nosmas, who reluctantly nodded, before taking the hand that Falcon held out to her, assisting her as she rose to her feet.

  The six people then left the others behind, promising to return as soon as they could. Despite both of their captors departing, nobody made any attempt to leave their campsite, knowing that they were surrounded by carefully concealed members of the Shandar.

  They soon reached the banks of a lake and Nosmas ordered Sam to undress. All three men respectfully turned their backs until Sam called that she was ready. She had placed her cloak around her shoulders, holding it closed in front of her to hide her nakedness. Nosmas was about to instruct her to walk into the water when he noticed something around her neck catch the sunlight.

  “You will need to remove that as well,” he informed her, pointing to the dragon necklace Dean had given her. Dean undid the clasp and slipped the chain into his pocket. Sam shivered. It was not a cold day, but without the necklace she suddenly felt exposed and vulnerable. Dean gripped her hand reassuringly.

  “How good are you at floating?” Nosmas enquired.

  “Not great,” Sam admitted, flashing the wizard a small regretful smile. “I tend to sink for some reason.”

  “Dean will have to support you then.”

  Dean stripped off most of his clothing until he was dressed in only his underwear. Sam could not help but look at him. It had been a long time since she had seen him without his clothes and she was pleased to see his legs were still slim, yet muscular. Dean noticed her quickly averting her gaze when he looked towards her and smiled to himself.

  The water was cool, but not unpleasant and, once he was sure of his footing, Dean signalled to Sam that she should remove her cloak and join him. He took her hand as she stepped into the water, looking at her chest admiringly. It was the first time he had actually seen her without her clothes. Her breasts were a little fuller than they had seemed the last time he had been allowed to touch them, but that could have been a result of either time or her pregnancy. Whatever the cause, he thought she looked good.

  Nosmas stood at the water’s edge, trying to avoid looking at Sam. “You need to lie on your back, perfectly still,” he instructed. “Dean will support you.”

  Sam stood next to Dean and leaned backwards into his outstretched arms. As he gently lowered her into the water, she stretched out her legs and placed her arms by her sides. Dean’s mind drifted back to the last time his hands had been on the bare flesh of her back and he was suddenly glad that the water was cold.

  “I am ready to begin,” Nosmas called out. Sam and Dean both tensed. Falcon grabbed Quartilla round her waist with one arm while using the other to draw his sword and hold it against her neck. She let out a small scream, but Nosmas assured her that it was only a precaution against him doing something stupid and that she was perfectly safe. She nodded her head, though the look on her face told him she was not happy with the situation.

  Nosmas turned towards Sam and started to recite his spell. Sam’s skin began to tingle, starting at her head and moving down her spine until the sensation covered her entire body. Dean stared at her in amazement as she began to glow. Nosmas kept speaking, repeating the spell over and over again. Each time the glow became a brighter yellow and the tingling sensation increased in intensity until Sam felt she would not be able to take any more. Suddenly Nosmas fell silent. Instantly the tingling stopped and the glow faded.

  “Nothing,” the wizard muttered to himself. “If there was any sort of enchantment on her the glow would have been red instead of yellow,” he informed those present. He began pacing. Then he stopped and looked critically at Dean, who was still supporting Sam. “Move your hands so you are touching new parts of her skin. It is possible that you are covering the source of the enchantment, which is why the spell did not work.” It was a long shot, but worth trying.

  Dean did as instructed and Nosmas tried the spell again. He watched closely, but there was still no sign of red anywhere on her body. Eventually he gave up. “That is enough,” he called out. “You can both get dressed again.”

  Falcon relaxed his grip on Quartilla and sheathed his sword. Eaglet held up her own cloak as Sam emerged from the water, hiding her nakedness from any prying eyes. Dean retrieved Sam’s cloak from where she had dropped it and handed it to her, instructing her to use it to dry herself, while he did the same with his own. They dressed quickly and the disappointed group made their way back to the others.

  Tor stood up expectantly as they approached. “Any luck?” he asked, but Nosmas shook his head.

  “If whatever is affecting Sam is magical, I cannot detect it.”

  “What now?” Seth asked.

  “We continue our journey to Patrick’s island and hope Sam has no more nightmares.” It wasn’t very reassuring, but it was the best he could do.

  The journey was long, tedious and frustrating. Last time they had visited Patrick’s home they had been sent there by a clue in the quest so they were looking forward to getting there. This time someone would be deciding whether they should all be executed or not. Nobody was looking forward to arriving.

  Sam continued to have nightmares, frequently screaming herself awake. She started to dread going to sleep, though she was finding it harder and harder to stay awake, even while she rode. Eventually she was forced to remain in the cart as she was falling asleep on horseback too often. Mercifully each time she woke she had no memory of what had been making her scream.

  A few days before they reached the island, the dreams changed. A stranger began to appear in them, offering to help her. The first time he appeared, she found herself dangling over the edge of a steep cliff with no memory of how she got there. Her arms were aching from supporting her weight and the sharp rock was cutting into her hands as she held on tightly. Try as she might, she could find no footholds. Looking down she could see a fast flowing river far below her, filled with treacherous looking rocks. If she lost her grip she would have no chance of surviving. It was a hot day and the sun was beating down on her. Sweat kept dripping into her eyes, making them sting. Just as the pain in her arms became unbearable, a shadow fell across her. Looking up, she could see a man staring down at her. He was tall and thin and, despite the heat, had the hood of his cloak pulled over his head, hiding his face in shadow.

  “Can I be of assistance?”
he called down to her. His voice was not threatening, but something inside her screamed not to trust him. He knelt on the ground and held out his hand to her. She stared at it, unsure what to do. Her grip on the rocks would not last much longer, but she could not make herself accept the stranger’s aid. For some unknown reason she felt that she would be better off dead than in his debt. Finally, she looked up at him, never taking her eyes off his shadow covered face as she released her hold and fell to the waiting rocks below.

  The next time she slept she found herself in a jail cell. She was dressed in a grey woollen smock, which was hot and itchy. The sound of a key turning in the lock made her glance towards the door. It creaked open and a middle aged man walked in. He was short and thickset, with his black hair greased back away from his pale face. Dressed in the finest silk, he strode forward as though he was of great importance, smoothing his pencil moustache with his fingers as he approached.

  “Your appeal has failed,” he announced, looking down at her. “Your so-called friends did not back up your version of events. You will be executed in the morning.” Without waiting for a reaction, he turned and traipsed out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him and the lock was reset. Sam stared at the wooden door, too stunned to speak.

  “What are you in here for?” a voice called out from the neighbouring cell. The voice seemed familiar, though she could not place where she had heard it before.

  “I don’t know,” she stuttered. “I have no idea where I am, what I have been accused of or who that man was.”

  “Now I can be of assistance there my dear,” the voice said helpfully. “That was Baron Von Shnide, the famous witch hunter.”

  Curiosity overcame her fear. “Witch hunter?” she asked. “I thought witchcraft was allowed.”

  The man in the adjacent cell sighed. “Not here.” There was a moments silence before he asked, “You really do not know where you are, do you?”

  Sam shook her head, then, realising that she could not be seen, informed the man that she had absolutely no idea.

  “You are in Kavern.” Sam shivered. The last time she had been in the city, Ellen had been turned into a vampire. Despite being warned that all forms of magic were banned, she had used a spell to save the Prince’s life. Her reward from the king was to have his personal guards try to kill her. They would have succeeded if Hawk had not gotten to her in time. Biting her, and thus making her a vampire, had been the only way to save her.

  Sam’s thoughts were interrupted as the man continued speaking. “My guess is that you got caught performing magic. A very silly thing to do here.”

  “But I have no knowledge of magic,” she protested. “I know no spells, charms or enchantments and even if I did, I wouldn’t know how to use them.”

  “Then someone has set you up my dear. Do you know anyone who can perform magic?”

  Of course she did. Nosmas was a wizard after all. But he wouldn’t set her up, would he? The Baron’s words returned to her. ‘Your so-called friends did not back up your version of events.’

  “I can help you,” the man volunteered. “I can get us both out of here.”

  Sam froze. The man was trying to be kind so why did she suddenly feel like she couldn’t trust him? Before she could respond, she heard a voice calling her name. “Sam. Sam. It’s time to wake up.” She opened her eyes to find Dean smiling at her as he gently shook her. “No bad dreams this time then,” he said.

  “I guess not,” she replied, all memory of being locked in the cell having evaporated the moment she woke up.

  Meanwhile, far away in a distant country, a man lying on a bed howled in frustration.

  The next dream involved fish. She was in a cage, semi-submerged in a small lake. It was full of fish, constantly brushing against her bare legs. They were hungry and began to suck on her toes. At first if felt almost pleasurable, but as time passed the constant nibbling by the tooth-less fish started to hurt. It did not take long for the pain to become intense. She tried keeping them away from her by kicking her legs and flailing her arms, but there were too many for her movements to have much effect.

  Despair set in and she began to cry. Suddenly a voice sounded from above her. “Are you alright down there? Do you need any help?” She looked up to find a figure above her, the hood of his cloak hiding his face. She was certain that she had never seen the stranger before, but looking at him gave her a strange sense of déjà vu.

  “Can you get me out of here?” she pleaded.

  He examined the cage. “I cannot break the lock I am afraid, but I may be able to find a way of keeping the fish away.”

  Sam was about to ask him to do so when she stopped and looked down. The water was murky and the fish were staying down deep, never going close to the water line. How did the man know they were there and were causing her pain? She looked up at him and not very politely told him what he could do with his offer. Without saying a word, he angrily walked away, leaving her alone to endure her pain until it became so unbearable it woke her up.

  They travelled all night, stopping just before dawn near a slow flowing river. Seth and Dal volunteered to collect fresh water and watch the horses while they drank. Both were grinning broadly when they returned. Without explanation, they retrieved hooks and string from the back of the wagon and stole a couple of straight sticks from the pile of firewood that Oak, Fajfar and Modo had collected. A short while later they returned with enough fish to feed everyone in the group, including Falcon and Eaglet, as well as leaving some for breakfast.

  Seth rubbed them with various herbs that Oak had found and the aroma of them cooking was mouth watering. Everyone ate their fill, except for Sam, who inexplicable found herself unable to eat the fish, opting instead to eat nuts and berries with Oak.

  Sam’s lack of proper sleep caused her to fall asleep while the others were still eating. She soon fell into another dream, but this one was strange. She kept having vivid nightmares and each time she awoke a strange hooded man was close by, offering his help, insisting he would be able to take the nightmares away. In her dream, each time she slept, the nightmare was more horrific and more terrifying and each time she thought that she had awoken she felt more desperate to accept this stranger’s help. Eventually she could take no more.

  “Please,” she begged him. “Help me.” Far away in a distant country, a man lying on a bed, smiled in satisfaction.

  Dawn was approaching when they reached the fork in the road and the clearing where they rested for the night the last time they had visited the island. Tor addressed Patrick. “Do we continue on or wait till first light tomorrow?”

  “I suggest we get a few hours sleep then head off,” Falcon interrupted, annoyed that the question had not been posed to him.

  Patrick shook his head. “We cross to my island in the early morning or not at all,” he stated. “It is not safe to do otherwise.”

  Falcon accepted what he was being told and looked around at his companions. He had been travelling with them for too long to still regard them as prisoners. They all looked tired. Resting for a day and a night would be good for them. But on the other hand, it would delay them knowing what their fate would be and he knew they were eager to get it over with.

  “We go now,” he decided and was pleased that none of the three Princes disagreed. Patrick made his way to the bush that hid a bell, which he rang. Like the previous time, it made no sound. Falcon and Eaglet were about to ask about it when they heard a grinding noise and looked down into the water. They stared in amazement as a bridge began to appear, rising upwards.

  “How?” Falcon asked.

  Patrick winked at him. “Magic.” He knew this would annoy the man and turned his back on him and proceeded to cross the bridge before Falcon could react.

  “I suggest you stay away from the edge,” Ria advised Eaglet as she was about to move forward. “And whatever you do, if you drop anything into the water, do not look down.” She shivered as she remembered witnessing how quickly a bird carca
ss she had thrown over the side of the bridge had been devoured by the sea creatures below. “The stories about sea monsters are true.” The look on Ria’s face stopped Eaglet from expressing her disbelief.

  The crossing was uneventful, as was the journey around the island to Patrick’s castle. Seeing the large grey stone building once more made Sam realise how much she had fallen in love with the place on her previous visit. She had always dreamed of living in a real castle and Patrick had made that dream come true for a while.

  Willard, the butler, was there to greet them when they walked under the raised portcullis. Men quickly appeared to take care of their horses and the wagon. The sun was setting and Hawk would awake soon, so they were instructed to leave the barn door open.

  “Do you know anything about the Shandar?” Patrick asked Willard as they walked into the main building.

  The butler shook his head. “I have heard a number of stories and rumours, but that is all.” Patrick did not ask anything further. Willard had never lied to him before and he had no reason to doubt him now.

  Feleen was waiting in the entrance hall to greet the visitors. At first glance, she appeared to be an ordinary tall, slim, young lady, with blonde straight hair almost reaching the base of her back. Feleen, however, was not human; she was a minus, a near-human race that had pale fur covering their skin. “Welcome back,” she said formally. “I trust your task was successful.”

  “Not exactly,’ Patrick replied. “Tell me, have you ever heard of the Shandar?” He watched her closely as he posed the question and noticed her back stiffen slightly.

  “They are a mythical secret society,” she replied.

  “Not so mythical,” Patrick informed her. “Let me introduce you to Falcon and Eaglet, two members who have forced us here to meet their supreme leader. He, or she, is to decide if we are all to be executed or not.”

  The pale fur which completely covered the housekeeper’s body bristled, like that of a frightened cat. Feleen went from an obedient servant to dominant master. “Tell me everything.”