A Man Rides Through by Stephen Donaldson Page A

she had expected. She was braced for rage and violence, for the intensity like hate in his glare and his knotted jaws, for the potential murder tightly coiled in all his muscles. She wasn't ready for the distracted man, noticeably shorter than she was, who entered her cell with no swagger in his shoulders and no authority on his face.
     
    The Castellan looked like someone who had suffered an essential defeat.
     
    Dully, he let himself into the cell. Again, he didn't bother to lock the door behind him. He was enough of a bar to her escape. And if she got past him and out of her cell, where could she go? She could run the corridors like a trapped rat, but she couldn't get out of the dungeon without passing through the guardroom. Castellan Lebbick didn't need to lock the door.
     
    For a moment, he didn't meet her gaze; he glanced around the cell, glanced up and down her body without quite looking at her face. Then he murmured as if he were speaking primarily to himself, "You're better. The last time I saw you, you were about to fall apart. Now you look like you want to fight." Without sarcasm, he commented, "I had no idea being thrown in the dungeon was going to be good for you."
     
    Terisa shrugged, studying him hard. "I've had time to think."
     
    At last, he raised his eyes to hers. The smolder she was accustomed to seeing in them had been extinguished—or tamped down, at any rate. He seemed almost calm, almost stable—almost lost. "Does that mean," he asked quietly, "you're going to tell me where he is?"
     
    She shook her head.
     
    In the same tone, the Castellan continued, "Are you going to tell me what you've been plotting? Are you going to tell me why he did it?"
     
    Once more, she shook her head. For some reason, her throat had gone dry. Lebbick's uncharacteristic demeanor began to frighten her.
     
    "That doesn't surprise me." He seemed to have no sarcasm left. Turning away, he started to walk back and forth in front of the bars. His manner was almost casual; he might have been out for a stroll. "King Joyse told me to push you. He wants you to declare yourself. Does that surprise you?" The question was rhetorical. "It should. It isn't like him. He was always able to get what he wanted without beating up women.
     
    "I've been looking forward to it all day.
     
    "But now—" He spread his hands in a way that almost gave the impression he was asking her for help. "Everything is inside out. Clumsy, decent, loyal Geraden has turned rotten. Crazy Adept Havelock spent most of the day protecting us from catapults. Master Eremis is busy refilling the reservoir." Apparently, he didn't know that she had been visited by both the Tor and Artagel, that she was already aware of the things he told her. "And King Joyse wants me to hurt you. He wants me to find out who you are—what you are."
     
    A suggestion of yearning came into Lebbick's voice, a hint of wistfulness. "Sometimes—a long time ago—he used to let me get even with his enemies. Sometimes. Men like that garrison commander— But he's never given me permission to hurt someone like you."
     
    Then the Castellan faced her—and still he seemed almost casual, almost lost. "He must be afraid of you. He must be more afraid of you than he's ever been of Margonal or Festten or Gart or even Vagel.
     
    "Why is that? What are you?"
     
    Meeting his extinguished, unreadable gaze, Terisa swallowed roughly. She didn't understand what had happened to him, what had taken the fire out of him or stifled his hate; but this was the best chance she would ever get to distract him, deflect his intentions against her.
     
    "I don't know," she said as steadily as she could. "You're asking the wrong questions."
     
    "The wrong questions?"
     
    "I can't tell you why King Joyse is afraid of me. If he's afraid of me. And I won't tell you where Geraden is. Because he didn't do it. I'm not going to give him away.
     
    "But I'll tell you anything else."
     
    "Anything else?" Castellan