much as
she dared at once, while Garit was still with them. Garit was more
sympathetic than Roarke, who seemed to know instinctively when she
was lying. If Roarke became too difficult and his questions too
intrusive, she would simply have to declare that she could remember
no more than she had already told them. She didn’t believe either
of them would use force against a woman, so they couldn’t make her
talk against her will.
“ Will you
listen without interrupting me and without accusing me?” she asked,
looking from one man to the other.
“ Of
course, we will,” Garit said immediately. “First, my lady, tell us
if you recall your true name.”
“ I do
honestly believe that my name is Jenia,” she said.
“ Hah!”
Roarke exclaimed, a world of disbelief in the single
syllable.
“ Roarke,
if you want to know what the lady has to say, then be quiet and let
her speak,” Garit warned.
“ Thank
you, Garit,” she said, aiming a wavering, tearful smile at
him.
At any
other time she’d be thoroughly disgusted with herself for her
devious words and her callous disregard of Garit’s feelings. But
not now. The two men staring at her offered her best and, perhaps,
her only hope of reaching Calean City alive. She knew she could not
get there alone and she could never hope to reach King Henryk’s
audience chamber without their help. To stop the clamoring of a
conscience that threatened to undo her stern intentions, she
reminded herself that they were using her, too. So she revealed a
small portion of her story, and most of what she told them was the
truth as she saw it.
“ What I
remember,” she said, “is being dragged aboard a ship. At the time,
I wasn’t sure what was happening because a moldy bag had been tied
over my head. I could see nothing, though I could hear water
slapping against a dock and through the reek of the filthy wool
that blinded me, I could smell the sea.”
“ Where
were you when this happened?” Roarke demanded.
“ Roarke,
you promised not to interrupt,” Garit warned.
“ I
promised nothing,” Roarke said. “You promised.”
“ If I
knew the name of the port, I would tell you,” Jenia said. “But I
don’t know it. In fact, at the time I was so confused and so weak
that I wonder now if I was fed poppy syrup.”
“ Of
course, you were,” Roarke said in the same voice she had heard from
him last night, the voice that made clear he didn’t believe her
assertions.
“ Let her
speak,” Garit said with barely concealed impatience.
“ Very
well.” Roarke consented with a look that warned Jenia he wouldn’t
accept her story without more questions.
“ I was
thrown into a small ship’s cabin, tossed onto the bunk, and the
hood was pulled away so I could see,” Jenia said. “But my hands and
feet were tied.”
“ Why tie
you if you were drugged?” Roarke asked.
“ I don’t
know!” she cried in exasperation. “Please, just be quiet and let me
talk. I am hoping that if I tell the story to you exactly as I
recall it, my thoughts will clear and the rest of my memories will
return. Perhaps then I’ll know more.”
“ Go on,
Lady Jenia,” Garit urged. “If Roarke interrupts you again, I
promise to gag him until you have finished. Take your
time.”
“ Thank
you.” She paused to draw a deep breath, to prepare herself to
remember what she’d much rather forget. “All I could think of was
that I wanted to be untied, so I’d have a chance of fighting back
if the men who stood around me tried to harm me. And, before you
can ask, Roarke, yes, I would remember every one of them. They were
four rough, bearded, unwashed sailors, but their faces, and the
rancid smell of their bodies, is frighteningly clear to me as I sit
here.
“ What I
did,” she continued, “was insist that I had an urgent need to use a
chamberpot, and for that my hands and feet must be freed. I feared
they’d pay no attention to my plea, so I pointed out to them that
they ought to hurry if
she dared at once, while Garit was still with them. Garit was more
sympathetic than Roarke, who seemed to know instinctively when she
was lying. If Roarke became too difficult and his questions too
intrusive, she would simply have to declare that she could remember
no more than she had already told them. She didn’t believe either
of them would use force against a woman, so they couldn’t make her
talk against her will.
“ Will you
listen without interrupting me and without accusing me?” she asked,
looking from one man to the other.
“ Of
course, we will,” Garit said immediately. “First, my lady, tell us
if you recall your true name.”
“ I do
honestly believe that my name is Jenia,” she said.
“ Hah!”
Roarke exclaimed, a world of disbelief in the single
syllable.
“ Roarke,
if you want to know what the lady has to say, then be quiet and let
her speak,” Garit warned.
“ Thank
you, Garit,” she said, aiming a wavering, tearful smile at
him.
At any
other time she’d be thoroughly disgusted with herself for her
devious words and her callous disregard of Garit’s feelings. But
not now. The two men staring at her offered her best and, perhaps,
her only hope of reaching Calean City alive. She knew she could not
get there alone and she could never hope to reach King Henryk’s
audience chamber without their help. To stop the clamoring of a
conscience that threatened to undo her stern intentions, she
reminded herself that they were using her, too. So she revealed a
small portion of her story, and most of what she told them was the
truth as she saw it.
“ What I
remember,” she said, “is being dragged aboard a ship. At the time,
I wasn’t sure what was happening because a moldy bag had been tied
over my head. I could see nothing, though I could hear water
slapping against a dock and through the reek of the filthy wool
that blinded me, I could smell the sea.”
“ Where
were you when this happened?” Roarke demanded.
“ Roarke,
you promised not to interrupt,” Garit warned.
“ I
promised nothing,” Roarke said. “You promised.”
“ If I
knew the name of the port, I would tell you,” Jenia said. “But I
don’t know it. In fact, at the time I was so confused and so weak
that I wonder now if I was fed poppy syrup.”
“ Of
course, you were,” Roarke said in the same voice she had heard from
him last night, the voice that made clear he didn’t believe her
assertions.
“ Let her
speak,” Garit said with barely concealed impatience.
“ Very
well.” Roarke consented with a look that warned Jenia he wouldn’t
accept her story without more questions.
“ I was
thrown into a small ship’s cabin, tossed onto the bunk, and the
hood was pulled away so I could see,” Jenia said. “But my hands and
feet were tied.”
“ Why tie
you if you were drugged?” Roarke asked.
“ I don’t
know!” she cried in exasperation. “Please, just be quiet and let me
talk. I am hoping that if I tell the story to you exactly as I
recall it, my thoughts will clear and the rest of my memories will
return. Perhaps then I’ll know more.”
“ Go on,
Lady Jenia,” Garit urged. “If Roarke interrupts you again, I
promise to gag him until you have finished. Take your
time.”
“ Thank
you.” She paused to draw a deep breath, to prepare herself to
remember what she’d much rather forget. “All I could think of was
that I wanted to be untied, so I’d have a chance of fighting back
if the men who stood around me tried to harm me. And, before you
can ask, Roarke, yes, I would remember every one of them. They were
four rough, bearded, unwashed sailors, but their faces, and the
rancid smell of their bodies, is frighteningly clear to me as I sit
here.
“ What I
did,” she continued, “was insist that I had an urgent need to use a
chamberpot, and for that my hands and feet must be freed. I feared
they’d pay no attention to my plea, so I pointed out to them that
they ought to hurry if
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