Hawkmistress! A DARKOVER NOVEL by Marion Zimmer Bradley

Romilly nodded. She said, “Help me quiet the dogs as I go…”

But she could not take Orain sleeping. Silently, she stole past the sleeping watchman.

The torturer. He is worse than any brute; his mind is an animal’s mind, otherwise I could not so easily enspell him….

“Orain-” she whispered, and her hand went out to grip his mouth silent against an involuntary cry. Remember you are dreaming this. …

Orain knew instantly what she meant; if Lyondri wakened or his slumber lightened, he would think he wandered in dreams. . . . Softly, moving as noiselessly as Romilly herself, he drew himself to his feet. One of them was bleeding through a rough bandage. She had not seen the cut-off finger. But she fought to suppress her horror, to keep the sleep-spell strong, as he moved softly across the room, forced his feet, wincing, into his boots.

“I would not leave that man alive-” he whispered, glancing with implacable hate at his jailer, but he sensed, so close they were in rapport, Romilly’s reason for not killing him, and contributed a single wry thought:

When Lyondri wakes and finds me escaped while he slept, what he will do to the man will be worse than your dagger through his heart; for mercy I should kill the man! But 1 am not kind enough for that.

The smell of the air told Romilly that dawn was nearing; she would soon have to contend with dogs waking all over the city, with the sentry-birds on the wall rousing, and if they did not waken at the proper time, that too would alert their handlers; they must be free of the city before then. She took Orain’s shoulder. His hand, too, was wrapped in rough bandages, and there was a patch over the cut-off ear which had bled through. But he was not seriously harmed, and came silently after her. Now they were outside the house, and she came aware that Caryl was following them on noiseless feet, in his nightgown.

“Go back!” She whispered, and shook the boy’s shoulder. “I cannot be responsible!”

“I will not return!” His voice was stubborn and set “He is no longer my father; I would be worse than he is, to stay with him.” She saw that great silent tears were rolling down his face, but he insisted, “I can help you quiet the guards.”

She nodded and signalled him to steady Orain, who was limping. Now she must quiet pain, keep the tumult of his thoughts and emotions under her own, and . . . yes, she must let the birds wake normally, with ordinary cries, elsewhere in the city, while keeping those near here safely entranced until they had somehow made their escape.

They had reached the side gate. Caryl set a hand on the latch and the lock gave way and swung open. There was a horrendous creaking from the broken lock, a sound of tortured metal and wood that rent the sky; everywhere, it seemed, there was an uproar from the walls, but they dropped all caution and ran, ran hurriedly through the camp and the forming army, ran toward Carolin’s tents . . . and then Carolin caught Orain in his arms, weeping aloud in relief and joy, and Romilly turned and hugged Caryl tight.

“We’re safe, we’re safe – oh, Caryl, we could never have done it without you.”

Carolin turned a little and opened his arms to clasp Romilly and Caryl in the same hug that encircled his friend.

“Listen,” Orain said, “The racket – they know I am gone.”

“Yet our army is here to guard you,” said Carolin quietly. “They shall not touch you again, my brother, if our lives answer for it. But now, I think, they will have to surrender; I will not burn my people’s city over their heads, but I will spare any man who makes his submission and swears loyalty to me. I think Rakhal and Lyondri will find few partisans this morning.” He felt Orain flinch as the embrace touched the bandage over his ear.

“My brother, let me have your wounds tended.”

He brought him into the tent, and Maura and Jandria hastened to attend Orain. While the hacked fingers and ear were bandaged, Carolin sat blinking back tears in the lamplight