Page 41 of Lhora
He sat up straighter.Or Lhora had somehow managed to overpower him.
Jumping out of the carriage, he ran to the schooner to speak with the crew waiting on board. As he’d suspected, they confirmed no one had shown up at the pier.
“Plug it!”
Running to the carriage, he turned it around and started back to Avergild. At the first intersection, he put the vehicle in idle and debated whether or not to go down it a ways where he’d hopefully encounter the coach. Something told him it would be a futile effort.
He slammed his hand on panel in front of him, then put the carriage back in gear and hit the throttle. He had a hunch. It was a longshot, but he figured he had nothing to lose. But what if his father had found out about his dalliance with the Beinight? Yes, the Sarpi would be enraged by his actions, but he’d forgive Duren. After all, it wasn’t uncommon for Coltrosstian soldiers to avail themselves of captive Beinight women. Their history was filled with stories of such conquests. But if the Sarpi had been tipped off, it would explain his father’s exceptionally sour mood this morning.
Which was why it was possible the Sarpi had ordered the soldier to take Lhora back to the dungeon. The man would have obeyed without question. Refusing the Sarpen’s order was one thing. Refusing the Sarpi’s command would be instant incarceration and inevitable death.
The sun was almost below the horizon when he took the cutoff to the dungeon. As he drove up the road, he noticed the bright crimson coach parked next to the storage shed across from the main building. It confirmed his guess. His man had returned her here.
A couple of the Sarpi’s patrol conveyances were also anchored near the front entrance. Duren shut down his vehicle and jogged up the walkway. Stepping inside the admissions area, he was unprepared for the confusion and chaos he confronted. People were nervously but seemingly aimlessly milling about, as if they didn’t know what they were doing or what they should be doing.
Grabbing a man who tried to push past him, Duren shoved him aside. “What’s going on? What’s happened?”
The man’s face was blanched with fear. “The prisoner Vadris is missing. All of his crew are missing, too!”
Duren stared at him. “Missing? What are you talking about?” The man tried to squirm out of his grasp, but he tightened it and pressed the guy harder against the wall. “What are you saying?”
“The Vadris! The one who tried to have the Sarpi killed by almost letting him get captured by the Tra’Mell! We came to escort the Vadris to the ceremonial courtyard where he was scheduled to be executed for his crimes, but he’s not here! And neither are any of his men!”
“Where are they if they’re not here?” Duren demanded.
“We don’t know! We’re looking for them now.”
“What about the Beinight woman? The female? Is she still here?”
“No! All of the cells on that level are empty! They’re all gone!”
The soldier was close to blubbering. Duren let him go and went in search of the dungeon guards. He finally found one hovering over the communications panel. Like the soldier, he wore that same pale mask of fear, and Duren knew he wouldn’t be able to question the man at this time. Instead, Duren pounded a fist on the table to get his attention.
“Where are your logs?”
The guard pointed to the table behind him. Rushing over to it, he scanned the ledger and found what he’d hoped to see. There, right after three bells, the “female Beinight prisoner” was returned to her cell by the “forthright guard from the manse.” Farther down, right before five bells, the “forthright guard from the manse” returned to the desk and signed out, “leaving the dungeon proper.”
Duren raised his head in thought. Why had it taken his man nearly an hour to deliver Lhora to her cell? The vague notion that the soldier might have availed himself of her body floated into his mind, but Duren angrily dismissed it. No. There was no way. For one thing, Lhora would never have allowed it. She would have fought the man tooth and nail. But on the off chance…
Returning to the panel, he grabbed the guard’s chair and swung it around. This time when the man looked up at him, sheer terror masked the man’s face when he finally recognized his Sarpen.
“Your—”
“Tell me quick. The guard who brought the Beinight female back here. When he left, was he injured?”
“In-jured?”
Duren ran a hand over his face, his fingers bent as if to claw it. “His face. Did it show claw marks? Was he bleeding from anywhere that you could tell?”
“N-no, Sarpen. He bore no marks or blood.”
Grunting in anger, Duren hurried out of the building and returned to his carriage. His soldier had returned her here instead of taking her to Kotill. That much was confirmed. And somehow they all had managed to escape. Duren knew, without question, that Lhora had to be in the company of the Vadris and his men.
But where?
His mouth widened in a tight smile. Right now the Sarpi would be in a white rage. His grand execution had been foiled. Worse, his enemies had escaped. He would be sending his soldiers far and wide to find them.
Duren’s gaze fell onto the red coach sitting on the other side of the smaller building. His coach was still here.Then where is my driver?The ledger had noted that his man had left the dungeon. So why didn’t he return to the manse with the coach?
