The dungeon lay beneath sea level, damp and dark, the air musty with the sour smells of molds and algae. A guard moved aside while another pulled open a protesting door as Lyam and Arutha passed through the portal. Martin waited off to one side in the torture chamber, speaking softly with Vandros and Kasumi. This room had not been used since before Prince Erland’s time, except for a short period when Jocko Radburn’s secret police had used it to interrogate prisoners during du Bas-Tyra’s reign.
The room had been cleared of the usual instruments of torture, but a brazier had been returned to its former place and irons were heating within. One of Gardan’s soldiers tended the burning coals. Laughing Jack stood chained to a pillar of stone, his hands above his head. Standing in full circle around him were six Tsurani, close enough that the groaning prisoner touched them as he moved. Each faced outward, maintaining a level of vigilance unmatched by even the most loyal of Arutha’s Household Guard.
From another part of the chamber, Father Tully left the side of several other priests, all of whom had been present at the wedding. He said to Lyam, “We have established protective spells of the most powerful sort.” He pointed at Jack. “But something seeks to gain access to him. How fares Anita?”
Lyam shook his head slowly. “The bolt was poisoned in some arcane fashion. Nathan says her time grows short.”
“Then we must question the prisoner quickly,” said the old priest. “We have no idea what we are combating.”
Jack groaned aloud. Arutha’s rage rose up and he nearly choked with fury. Lyam pushed past his brother, motioned for a guard to step aside, and looked the thief in the eyes. Laughing Jack looked back with eyes wide with fear. His body gleamed and sweat dripped off his hooked nose. Each time he moved, he groaned. The Tsurani had obviously not been gentle when they searched him. Jack tried to speak, wet his lips with his tongue, then said, “Please . . .” His voice was hoarse. “Don’t let him take me.”
Lyam stepped up beside him and grabbed Jack, his hand closing on the man’s face like a vise. Shaking Jack’s head, he said, “What poison did you use?”
Jack was near tears when he spoke. “I don’t know. I swear it!”
“We shall have the truth out of you, man. You had better answer, for we can make it hard on you.” Lyam indicated the burning irons.
Jack tried to laugh, but it became a bubbling sound.
“Hard? You think I fear irons? Listen you, King of the bloody damn Kingdom, I’ll gladly let you burn out my liver if you promise you won’t let him take me.” The last statement had a hysterical note in it.
Lyam threw a quick glance around the room. “Let who take him?”
Tully said, “He’s been yelling for an hour not to let ‘him’ take him.” The priest’s expression betrayed a thought. “He’s made a compact with dark powers. Now he fears to pay!” he said with sudden certainty.
Jack nodded his head emphatically, eyes wide. With a half-laugh, half-sob, he said, “Aye, priest, as would you if you’d ever been touched by that darkness.”
Lyam grabbed Jack by his stringy hair and jerked his head back. “What are you speaking of?”
Jack’s eyes grew round. “Murmandamus,” he whispered.
Suddenly there was a cold chill in the room and the coals in the brazier and the torches on the wall seemed to flicker and fade. “He’s here!” shrieked Jack, out of control. One of the priests began to chant and after a moment the light brightened.
Tully looked toward Lyam. “That was . . . frightening.” His face was drawn and his eyes wide. “It has tremendous power. Hurry, Majesty, but speak not that name. It only serves to draw it to its minion here.”
“What was the poison?” Lyam demanded.
Jack sobbed, “I don’t know. In truth. It was something the goblin kisser give me, the Dark Brother. I swear it.”
The door opened and Pug entered, followed by the stout figure of another magician, this one wearing a bushy grey beard. Pug’s dark eyes mirrored the somber tone of his voice when he said, “Kulgan and I have established wards around this part of the palace, but something barters them even as we speak. “
Kulgan, his face wan as if he had just finished some taxing labor, added, “Whatever is seeking to enter is determined. Given time, I think we could unravel something of its nature, but . . .”
Tully finished the thought. “. . . it will win past us before we can. So time is something we lack.” To Lyam he said, “Hurry.”
Lyam said, “This thing you serve, or this person, whatever it is, tell us what you know. Why does it seek my brother’s death?”
“A bargain!” shouted Jack. “I’ll tell you what I know, everything, just don’t let him take me. “
Lyam nodded curtly. “We shall keep him from you.”