Xaldar turned to the five men in his war chamber; each man captained a squadron of soldiers under Xaldar’s express command. Directing them towards the strategy table, where he worked out each move of a battle before committing to it, Xaldar began to speak.

"There is a ship docked off shore, south east of our position," He pointed to a map, "Right there. She is called the Nomad; I want her taken, her crew enprisioned, and the Nomad placed far out of sight intent for destruction. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir, your highness, sir!" The men all answered sharply. Turning on their heels, they marched out of the door to gather their militant forces.

Xaldar laughed. "In another hour, Sinbad, your beloved ship will be nothing but kindling, and not long after that, the love of your life, will be mine." He sighed. "How I do so love my life."

*********************************

Rongar had begun to worry about Sinbad and the crew; though he had no knowledge of the events that had taken place over the last week, he did know that Sinbad was supposed to be back yesterday, and he hadn’t shown up.

Rowing the long boat onto shore, Rongar began to pace the ocean line, allowing the waves to play peacefully over his feet. It was then he noticed the trail of dust coming towards him; Sinbad? He wondered, knowing that could not be. Sinbad would never be mounted on horseback, nor would he have that many people with him. Stepping into the cover of neaby foliage, Rongar made himself invisible to watch the next events.

The soldiers had brought with them long boats, obviously intent upon rowing out to the Nomad, and doing so they boarded her, swords drawn to capture the crew. Rongar watched this helplessly, knowing only that his freedom at this time would prove more beneficial than his capture or death. The ship was overtaken easily with no one aboard to command the men, they were all enchained and marched into the waiting long boats. A few soldiers stayed with the Nomad, and Rongar watched as she began sailing out of the harbor towards the cliffs on the other side of the island; he fisted his hand. Sinbad had given him one duty, to protect the Nomad, and he had failed.

But something must have happened to Sinbad, he reasoned. How else would the soldiers know that the Nomad was harbored there, and why else would the king have sent his men to take her away. A sneaking suspicion began to form in Rongar’s mind. Sinbad had never trusted that prince.... slowly but surely he began putting some of the peices together, making his way through the dense forests towards the palace where he was sure Sinbad and the others were being kept.

******************

Maeve’s tired body turned on the bed as Dermott flew in through the window. "What is it, my sweet?" her emotionless voice asked him. All Dermott had to report was that the Nomad had just set sail, he could see her departing in the distance. Maeve sighed, she had hoped when Sinbad had not left last night as he said he would, perhaps he would come back for her. She knew that if he had, she would not have had the strength to turn him away again. But now, with the ship dissapearing behind the island’s mountain range, all was lost.

Her head jerked up to the sound of someone knocking on the door. "Enter." She called, fixing her skirt around her.

Xaldar walked in and over to the bed. "Good morning, my love. Did you sleep well?"

Maeve nodded, "Aye, as well as could be expected I suppose."

Xaldar frowned, she was being miserable, he would have to stop that. "My father has invited you to join us for breakfast. He wishes to show you the plans he has made for our wedding, and also the life that you will be leading as my wife."

"When is Tayia’s wedding rehearsal?" She queried dejectedly.

"This afternoon; you will be her maid of honor. The dress is prepared and waiting for you in our chambers."

Maeve turned to face him. "Our chambers?"

Xaldar nodded, "Yes, I have had the servants clear out your friends rooms, and it wouldn’t do to have the future princess of Thalderon, and heir to the throne, sleeping in guest quarters. As we are to be married at the end of the week, I have decided that you should move into my quarters." His eyes glinted evilly, daring her to deny him his demand.

"Aye, that is logical."

If she didn’t come out of this depression soon, he was going to have to beat it out of her, Xaldar thought. Damn her and that insolent sailor! If only he hadn’t blown up that cavern they would never have had the time to come together as they so obviously had. But then, he considered, she wouldn’t be blind and willing to marry him. "Fine, I will have Isabelle prepare your things. First things first, though, I want you to remove that awful peasants outfit you are wearing and put on something more fit for a royal heir. Give it to Isabelle and she will have it burned." He ordered.

Maeve was so deeply involved in her own grief that she never even noticed herself following orders, and being the meek submissive that she had always abhored.

Upon his perch by the window, Dermott shuddered. What was happening to his dearest friend, and how could he help to stop it?

*************************************

Sinbad slowly opened his eyes; he felt awful, the slap Xaldar had given him was enough to make his already sensitive skull reel. Trying to keep his balance, Sinbad climbed to his feet and peered around him; he didn’t want to think about how long he had been unconscious.

The king obviously cared not for his prisioners; Sinbad was surrounded in sullied straw, reeking of things he did not wish to imagine. Raising his hand to the back of his head, Sinbad felt his hair clotted with blood; they couldn’t have hit him any lighter to receive the same effect, he wondered in pain.

Climbing over to the bars he hissed out into the hall. "Doubar? Firouz??"

"Aye, little brother, over here." Came Doubar’s voice from the other end of the cell block.

"Is Firouz with you?"

"Aye, but he’s still out; man just never learned to take a hit did he?"

Sinbad had to smile in sympathy for the scientist. "At the moment, Doubar, I envy him." Sinbad blinked to clear his fuzzy sight. "Can you see anyway out?"

"Nope, and they just started bringing in the crew from the Nomad about twenty minutes ago. The cell block is filling up fast."

Sinbad sighed. "I have to find a way out of here, if not to rescue the ship, to rescue Maeve. I can’t leave her to be married to a tyrant like Xaldar. Allah only knows what he’s putting her through at this very moment."

*********************************

Maeve sat down delecately upon Xaldar’s large bed; that it was so similar to the one she and Sinbad had shared only the day before caused her great pain, but she shoved it aside. As long as Sinbad was happy and well, then that was all that mattered.

Xaldar moved beside her, drawing her mouth to his for a harsh kiss. She hardly responded at all, only to move her lips slightly, and sigh sadly. Xaldar’s eyes darkened; "Get dressed, Maeve, Tayia and Nicholan are waiting for you at the alter for rehearsal. I will see you back here immediately afterward."

Maeve only nodded and reached for the clothing laying beside her. "Aye." Softly she fingered the crystal hanging around her neck; it gave her strength and she stood to change rooms, reaching her hand out for the wall to guide her.

"No." Xaldar said. "Change here. I want to see what I’m getting." He watched as she once again reached for her crystal for courage. "And get rid of that stupid necklace. It does nothing for you in the least."

A spark of life finally flashed in Maeve’s eyes, and her fingers clutched her crystal protectively. "I will not. If I hold onto one thing of my life as anything but your wife, I’m hanging onto this. I have given up my clothing, my friends, my way of life, my quests, my oath to my dearest friend, and my one true love. I will not have this necklace harmed in any way, or I will leave you. Is that understood?"

Dermott’s feathers ruffled and hope filled his heart; was his dear one finally coming back around? She sounded like the Maeve Dermott had known forever, would she break through?

But as she stripped off her only recently donned dress for the dress she was to wear at the wedding, the tiny flicker of life died again, and Dermott’s hopes plunged into the underworld. He had to restrain himself from flying over and pecking out the prince’s eyes when the man began leering at Maeve as she undressed. Xaldar’s eyes filled with lust, and an evil grin spread across his face.

Dermott shifted his feet and turned his head; he couldn’t stand the degredation Maeve was suffering through Xaldar. Squawking in anger and frustration, Dermott flew out the open window, soaring through the skies above, not knowing what he was looking for, only knowing that finding it would save Maeve’s life, and in turn could quite possible save his own.

********************************

Rongar slipped quietly through the woodlands, making his way towards the palace. His heart was heavy as he arrived just in time to see his fellow crew members being roughly escorted into what could only be the dungeons. Rongar peered closely at the ground these men were entering, making note of the ventilation shafts from the dungeon and all the possible entrances and exits. His eyes skimmed to the final ventilation shaft, guarded by four armoured guards, knowing that if Sinbad were anywhere here, that’s where he would be, far away from the others, no apparant escape.

Rongar approached one of the armoured guards from behind; the guard never even felt the moor break his neck as he was pulled away from his post. Working swiftly Rongar donned the dead guards armour and took his place.

As luck would have it, he was only waiting for an hour before his group was signalled by the core guards. "You!" the guard pointed at Rongar. "Get down there and feed the original three prisoners! One crust of bread and one ladle of water each! Understood?!"

Rongar nodded, and made his way into the cell block. He had made it. As the stench reached his nostrils, his face screwed up, and the sight of his comrades and friends reaching out for help turned his stomach. Trying to avoid their piteful gazes, Rongar made his way to the final cell, carrying the bread and water the outside guard had handed him.

Sinbad looked up as Rongar approached. The side of his face and his ear were terribly bruised; and his hair and vest were stained red with the blood of his scalp wound. Still, Rongar sighed, he was alive and that’s all that was important at the moment. Now to get him out of here.

As his captain glared at him, Rongar gestured to Sinbad and then pounded his hand over his heart; I remain your friend, he was trying to say.

At the familiar gesture, Sinbad’s eyes lightened. "Rongar!" Sinbad hissed, "You escaped capture!"

Rongar nodded, and gestured to the bars locking Sinbad away. Quickly, as a guard stepped into the hallway, Rongar slid Sinbad’s bread and water through the bars. He gestured roughly for the captain to eat. The guard nodded to his "comrade" and walked back out of the cell block.

"You have to find the keys and get me out of here, Rongar, I have to stop Maeve from marrying Xaldar!"

Rongar’s eyebrows shot through the roof as Sinbad’s words sunk in. He gestured to his heart and then to Sinbad. "Aye, she loves me, but she agreed to marry Xaldar." Sinbad sighed as he saw Rongar’s confusion. "There was an accident, she lost her sight and I think she’s feeling useless or worthless or something, oh I don’t really know, I just know I have to stop her, now!"

Sadly Rongar shook his head; he could do nothing until at least midnight; he had to wait for the other guards to fall asleep or else risk discovery. Slowly but surely Sinbad began to understand. "Will you at least try and find Dermott, he can tell you if she’s all right."

Rongar nodded and moved down the corridor. Stopping suddenly, he pushed the remaining bread and water through the bars to Doubar and Firouz’s cage; he didn’t wait and explain his presence, he only hoped they trusted him enough to let him do what he had to.

*******************************

Maeve escorted the young princess down the center aisle of the palace gathering hall; she had a smile on her face, but it was forced, and she was not fooling the child heir.

"What’s wrong, Maeve?" Tayia hissed without moving her lips.

"Nothing; keep walking." Maeve whispered back through her smile.

"Why are you marrying Xaldar?" Tayia refused to give up. "You love Sinbad, yet you marry my brother. Why is that?"

"I marry your brother for the life we may lead together. I have always cared for him."

"But you love Sinbad!"

"Your highness, I beg your parden, but this is a wedding rehearsal, it would help if you weren’t talking during the planing of the walk."

Tayia blushed. "Yes, holy one."

Maeve moved so that Tayia was standing beside her intended, and that she was well out of the way of the proceedings. Tayia kept a close eye on her friend, knowing that if Maeve were to inadvertantly trip over something or bump into something, the sorceress wouldn’t recover easliy.

It was that close eye that caused Tayia to turn at the last moment, causing her intended also to turn to see what the problem was. The arrow aimed for Tayia’s heart missed it’s mark, plunging into the chest of the groom. The young prince immediatly dropped to the ground, stricken with pain, and while Maeve tried to figure out what was going on, the palace physicians rushed into the hall.

With one final gurgling groan, the prince slipped away into death. Maeve heard Tayia cry out, and wondered just exactly what had happened. "Oh Dermott," she called quietly, "Why aren’t you here to help me? Where are you my sweet? Why aren’t you being my eyes?"

But she was not answered, just as there was no way she could know what caused the blood spill in the hall, she could not know that Dermott was out to be more than just her eyes; he was out to be her saviour.

********************************

Dermott soared gracefully over the forests of Thalderon, endlessly searching for that one something that would help him save both Maeve’s body and her soul. As he passed over the dungeons for the seventh time, a familiar form caught his attention. Crying out in joy, Dermott swooped through the air towards Rongar; even in his guards uniform, Dermott couldn’t mistake his friend.

Rongar peered into the sky to catch the form of the bird flying over; he couldn’t mistake the worry clouding the hawks essence, and signalled to him to head for the woods. Signalling to his superior that he had to have a moment’s personal time, Rongar dissapeared into the coverage of the trees to meet his feathered friend.

Dermott didn’t hesitate in flying to Rongar, perching on the moors forearm; his rustling feathers conveyed his angst. Rongar knew the only thing that could upset Dermott as badly as he so obviously was would be Maeve in immenant danger. Rongar drew in a sharp breath, knowing he had to work quickly to free Sinbad or else he may risk losing both of his friends.

Rongar sat down for a moment, his mind searching through possibilities, finally closing in on a plan that just may work; he heard of tomorrows wedding ceremony, most of the kingdom would be in the great hall, leaving the dungeons relatively unguarded. If he were able to free Sinbad during the wedding, Sinbad would be able to free Maeve. Rongar smiled; yes, that’s what he would do, but for now he had to go back on duty before the other guards got suspicious.

********************************

Maeve held Tayia as the child queen cried into her arms. "Maeve, Father and Xaldar are sending me away again! They said its not safe for me to become queen anymore, that Xaldar has to take over the throne! Maeve, they’re taking my entire life away from me!"

Tayia never noticed Maeve flinched as she wrapped her arms around the sorceress, pressing her hands into her back; she also never notice the small sliver of blood seep through the dress material Maeve was wearing. Maeve hardly reacted to anything; she merely spoke the words that she knew she should. "It’ll be all right, Tayia. You never truly wanted the responsiblity of a Queendom on your hands anyway. Perhaps if Xaldar were to rule for a few years, steady things out, then it would be possible for you to take over. You could use the time to live a little, fall in love, get married, really prepare for your duties."

This Tayia did notice; Maeve’s voice held no emotion, her usually expressive eyes betrayed nothing; everything about her magical friend seemed dead. "Maeve, you don’t want to be here, do you?"

Maeve sighed. "Tayia, I don’t want to be anywhere anymore."

At that exact instant Xaldar burst into the room. "No Queen of Thalderon will be caught talking in such a manner! Tayia, retreat to your quarters, you leave in an hour! Maeve and I must talk."

"But Xaldar, I can’t leave today....."

"Go!" Xaldar pointed at the door with a ferocious gesture. Tayia shrunk a little, and with a last forlorn look at her deeply depressed friend, she shuddered and walked out into the hall. Breaking into a run, the child hurried to her rooms, threw herself onto her bed and began to cry all over again. What had happened to her brother?

*****************************

Xaldar approached Maeve, raising to his entire six foot five inches frame, pulling a leather whip off the wall. "I told you to never speak that way at all, much less around my sister!" Bringing the whip down sharply, he tore the back of Maeve’s dress apart, along with her skin. He always whipped her in the exact same spot; no queen was supposed to be scarred as badly as Maeve would have to be to learn. This girl was stubborn, but he’d teach her, by Allah he’d teach her!

Bringing the whip down upon her again, Xaldar grew enfuriated as Maeve did not react. Finally he dragged the sorceress to her feet and began to shake her; her head snapped back and forth sharply, but still she never reacted. Dermott flew through the window at that instant and began to shriek in anger. "You snap out of this now, you witch, or I will kill that damn hawk of yours!" Xaldar screamed into her face, delighting as a spark of life finally shone in her eyes.

Grinning evilly, Xaldar balled up his fist and punched her in the stomach; he delighted as she fell to the floor and curled into a ball, her arms clutched around her stomach, tears streaming down her face. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he pulled her back up, and began kissing her harsly, his hands travelling over her body in rough, uncaring paths. He pushed her back onto the bed and climbed on top of her; swallowing deeply, Maeve tried to push him away.

"No! Xaldar! No!" She cried out, "Please, not until after the wedding, I beg you."

Her final words made him smile widely. "Yes, my dear, beg me; that’s all you’re good for."

As he pushed himself off of her again, he back handed her across the face; not hard enough to bruise her, but hard enough to cause her pain. He laughed, "We will be married tomorrow morning; in Tayia’s place. Your dress will be delivered to you at dawn, I expect you to have it fit and be ready by eleven am. Do you understand me?"

Her eyes deadened again as she nodded. "Yes, Xaldar." "Good."

As he stormed out of the chamber, Isabelle slid in quietly. "M’lady?" She asked softly. "Shall I pour you a bath?"

Maeve winced as she tried to rise off the bed. "I think I am going to need your help, Isabelle."

Isabelle rushed to her side. "No, m’lady, please, lay on your stomach, I’ll take care of your back." The maid rushed into the bath chamber to return with a basin of warm water and a cloth. With ever so gentle hands, the girl removed Maeve’s dress, exposing her back for the open wound that it was. Blood oozed out of the latest beating, and that morning’s wounds had barely begun to heal over. Isabelle gasped at the sight of all the blood, flowing and dried, that stained Maeve’s skin. With a feather light touch she poured a small amount of the liquid over the damage, wincing as Maeve hissed in pain.

The cleansing proved to be a painful experience for both Maeve and Isabelle; the maid no more so wanted to hurt the sorceress than she would cut off her own fingers. Isabelle was a gentle, if not so intelligent soul, and Maeve was grateful for the attention the young lady paid to her.

"M’lady, why do you let him do this to you? You know magic, could you not just cast a spell on him?"

Maeve only shook her head. "He’s all I have left, Isabelle. If I don’t stay here with him, I have no life to live. I may as well be dead."

"M’lady, that cannot be true! What about the young man you were with the other morning?" Isabelle looked up sadly, she knew love when she saw it, and what she had seen yesterday morning could only be love.

"Forget him, that’s what I have to do. He’s gone for good."

*****************************

The night passed painfully for Maeve, but she was relieved when her room door opened at about three in the morning and Isabelle came in. Telling her to roll over, Isabelle lathered a strange smelling oil onto Maeve’s wounds, and the pain eased away. Falling back into a deep sleep, Maeve never even noticed Isabelle turn to a hooded figure standing at the foot of the bed. The figure handed the maid a gold coin, and another bottle of the miracle salve; then, with a wave of its hand, the figure misted away into the night.

When Maeve awoke the next morning it was to find her wedding dress hanging from the door frame, and to find that she felt absolutely no pain from last nights beating. Standing, she was surprised to find herself unclothed, so she made her way over to the bath chamber. Remembering Xaldar’s words from last night, she quickly retrieved the wedding gown. It was made from the most exquisite material; it was pure white laced in true pearls, and though she couldn’t see it, she knew it would be perfect. When she slid it over her head the dress clung to her in exactly the right places. Maeve knew as she exited her quarters she was making the mistake of her lifetime; she belonged with Sinbad, but she couldn’t force her blindness upon him. Xaldar at least wouldn’t need her to slay demons, or to lower the sails, or anything else she would need her eyes for; at least here she wouldn’t be concerned every day of risking her friends lives.

Isabelle took her hand. "Please, m’lady, allow me to put your hair up? I’m sure it would look much better pinned on top of your head, especially for such an occasion."

Maeve rolled her eyes; she had forgotten to do her hair. "All right, Isabelle. By the way, what was that stuff you put on my back last night? All the pain is gone."

Isabelle shrugged. "I don’t really know. A person gave it to me and told me to put it on your wounds that it would take them away, so I did."

Maeve followed the girl into her chambers. "Do you know who this person was?"

Isabelle shook her head, "They remained cloaked the entire time we spoke. I’m sorry, m’lady."

********************************

Rongar slid into the dungeon chambers; just has he had predicted, only four guards were on duty, the rest were working shifts in the hall, preparing security for the royal wedding. Nodding briskly to the other guards, Rongar remained inconspicuous as he made his way to Sinbad’s cell.

"Rongar!" Sinbad whispered. "Is the way clear?"

The moor nodded as he slid the keys out of his pocket. Thank Allah these men were heavy sleepers he thought; last nights caper with to get the keys would have been impossible otherwise. He smiled at his captain as he released the door lock; Sinbad burst out of the cell as though Satan himself were on his trail. Turning on his heel, he called back softly to his friend. "Release Doubar and Firouz, tell them I’m heading to the hall to the wedding; if Maeve is anywhere she’ll be there. Then give the keys to another of these fine men to release themselves and come after me!"

Rongar nodded briskly as Sinbad headed up the steps. Hearing a shout from the upper corridor, Rogar turned to see Sinbad pick up a sword from the ground and charge into battle with the guards. Rongar laughed, the guard didn’t have a chance.

Sinbad flung his sword wildly, concerned not with his own safety, but only with getting to Maeve, and making her see that he loved her. Slaying the final guard, Sinbad stopped and peered at the palace... where was that hall? He wondered. Snapping his fingers he darted to the left and ran into the palace corridor. The hall was right through those doors; now to find Maeve! Without hesitation, Sinbad pushed his way through the massive oak doors right into the middle of a wedding. All heads turned to look at him; gasping to find him standing half clothed and bleeding in the middle of the aisle. As the bride turned to the sound of the commotion, Sinbad cried out, "Maeve, no!"

Continued in Shared Admissions: Part Eleven, Section Two

Go to Shared Admissions: Part Eleven, Section Two

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