Blanche shook her head. What they had discoyered had been surprising, but it had not seemed an appropriate time to throw it in his face,
It had been interesting to see how Jack's manner had been when he believed he was speaking to a man.
He had been polite, yet this time she had sensed an undercurrent of belligerence he had not shown to Blanche. She'd half expected him to attack her even without a sword in his hand.
She believed his memory loss was true, however, though how to help him regain it was going to be a challenge. And she did want him to.
He fascinated her beyond explanation. She would have to think about it, but now she craved her bed. I want one more interview with him later on,
Blanche insisted. She pressed her ear to the door and could hear Jack muttering to himself but could not make out his words.
She wondered what he would be like in a fight. She wondered what he would be like in bed. She wasn't sure which excited her more.
Jack was torn from sleep by the sound of the door slamming back and wood hitting stone. He had been awake until dawn rose,
considering his conversation with the mysterious man before giving into his body's demand for sleep.
His body jerked and he gazed blearily at the
two figures who had entered. They had not visited him before and were dressed in well-cut coats of wool, but their belts were adorned with various weapons that looked well used.
Get up the younger of the two a handsome
dark-haired man who Jack thought looked about forty barked. Youre wanted. Jack frowned. He pushed himself on to his elbows, cursing the fact that he still felt slightly dizzy when he moved too suddenly. Who by?
You'll find out when you get there, the man
replied curtly. 'If you don't come willingly we'll
take you.
He pulled the edge of his cloak back to reveal a pair of iron cuffs linked by a heavy chain. Jack pushed himself from the bed, his temper
flaring and his fists bunching. He reined it back in.
Though the man's tone caused his temper to
rise, he was not prepared to suffer the indignity of being shackled. Besides, this was his first opportunity to leave his room and he would be unwise to pass it up.
He pulled on a loose-fitting jerkin over his tunic and hose. At the end of the bed was a pair of boots. They were well-worn brown leathe, scuffed at the heels and toes, and reached to midcalf.
When he pulled them on they fitted him per-
fectly, fitting to the shape of his soles and toes, so were most likely his own.
He inspected them curiously for a moment, waiting for some sign of recognition, but beyond the sense of striding he got nothing.
The men stood by, the one who had spoken
drumming his fingers on his crossed arms win an impatient look on his face. A spark of mutiny reared up in Jack and he took time to run his wasn't fingers through the side of his hair that wasn't muffled in the bandage, to adjust his borrow clothes to his liking and to rub a finger Round his teeth to freshen them.
He caught a flash of a Smirk on the face of the short, wide man.
I'm ready,' he said, addressing the short
Where are we going?"
You'll find out when we get there,' Dark Hair
growled. They led him along a passageway. Jack gazed round curiously at the rooms he passed. He was, as he had suspected, in a storeroom. The other rooms he passed were being used to store food, including a particularly pungent cheese that made Jack's mouth water.
They climbed the stairs and emerged in the
small courtyard that Jack had seen from his window. He looked back at the building and identified what he thought was his room at the furthest end.
He tried not to think of it as a cell because the idea of his imprisonment made his body grow
cold with perspiration. He began walking across the courtyard towards the round tower that was the only other building within the walls.
Not that way said the short man. 'Follow us.
They walked at either side of him and led
him through the gateway round the back of the tower. Wind buffeted him, catching his hair and the loose sleeves of his tunic.
He inhaled deeply, Relishing the fresh air after the stifling yeastiness of the storeroom. A rutted track led down and away from the castle. Jack looked back, ignoring the urging of the two men.
The round tower was a squat, wide building with windows set intervals that revealed three storeys. It clung to the edge of a clift, with a sheer drop to the rocks below. Jack felt dizzy even looking at it.
Come on, said the short man, while Dark
Hair gave him a rough shove between the shoulder blades.
Eventually, they emerged on a long, curved
beach. By the time they arrived, Jack's back and armpits were clammy with perspiration and the tunic was sticking to him. He hadn't realised how weak he still was.
He walked unaided, though his speed had slightly irritated his captors. He was determined he would not show any weakness to them.
When his feet crunched on the sand, he had to resist the urge to sink down to his knees. Instead he stood and gazed around, moving his head Slowly from one end of the beach to the other. providing a natural end, with others scattered along the length, half-buried beneath grey shingle.
Smooth black rocks rose out of the sea at each end of the cove.
The tide surged in and out, revealing other rocks concealed beneath the sea. The wind was fierce and cold, and the tide crashed
on to the beach in violent rolls that sent spray upwards.
White rolls churned further out, indicating there were more rocks. Gulls circled lazily across the pale grey sky, their cries the only
voices punctuating the crashing waves.
A lone figure stood on the flat, black rocks
just above where the tide reached. He was facing out to sea. He wore his hat pulled down low and a heavy cloak of black trimmed with white fur that billowed in the wind.
It was a dramatic pose, clearly contrived for maximum effect. This was the same man who had visited Jack's room earlier on.
We've brought him, the short man said.
The man on the rock turned slowly, sure-footed on the treacherous rocks. He was wearing the unsettling animal mask.
He tilted his head back. Thank you, Andrey. Bring him closer. Andrey was the friendlier of the two men. He made to take Jack's arm, though without much effort, and Jack shrugged him off easily. Andrey seemed to hold no grudge, but followed close behind as Jack walked across the shingle.
Jack stopped short of clambering on to the rocks to Join the man. The surface was black and they glistened with weed. Jack felt an overpowering Sense of nausea and dizziness as he imagined himself flailing, losing footing and crashing into the sea.
The man gestured around him. "Well, Master Jack?" Well? Jack echoed.
He folded his arms and stared at the man on the rock. He was slightly shorter than the other two, though held himself tall with poise.
Beneath the cloak that reached to his knees he wore a bulky leather surcoat, loosely belted at the waist. His chest looked thickset and Jack imagined that the neck and chin beneath the tightly wound scarf would be equally corpulent. If only he would reveal his face.
Being able to see only the black eyes was unsettling. Clearly, the man expected Jack to be cowed and a sense of rebellion swelled in him.
He folded his arms across his chest and planted his feet wide. You have me at a disadvantage. I do not yet know your name.
The man looked at Andrey and the other man.
Were they servants or companions? He folded his arms.
I am Bleiz Mor. Jack started forward, mouth open, then stopped and drew back as fog rolled across his mind once more.
You have heard of me?' The suspicion in the
man's voice was the first hint of emotion Jack
had seen.