“She looks afraid. Are you afraid, little girl?” one of the soldiers asked. He was bald, with a nasty scar breaching across his face. He barred his teeth at me like an animal. The other man that taunted me was older, with salt and pepper hair and a drooping eye. His crooked yellow-toothed smile was full of wicked amusement. For being Stone-Hearted, they were both rather unsymmetrical. I wondered what had happened to them, and instantly shivered. The last soldier in the group stood back, looking uninterested in the others new plaything.
“When my men find me, they are going to kill all of you.” I didn’t mean for my voice to shake. I wanted to sound confident but couldn’t help it. They all laughed together, their voices echoing through the forest, thinking my threats a drollery.
“Your men are never going to find us. No matter how loud you scream.” Tassadar seemed quite certain of himself. His red hair was slicked back, and in the daylight, the sharp angles of his beautiful Stone-Hearted face were even more terrifying. “Pack up, men. We need to get on the move again,” he ordered suddenly.
“Ready to take a ride with me lovely?” Scarface asked, taking me by the hands and lifting me into his arms. I screamed and wriggled again, reaching out with my teeth sharply to try and bite him.
“Whoa, careful now. You wouldn’t want me to have to put you back to sleep, would you?” I didn’t want a second throbbing cheek and immediately stopped fighting. I wouldn’t be able to ward off these men anyway. I’d just have to patiently wait for my rescuer. Fear quickened inside me, hoping that they wouldn’t be too late.
They led me to the back of the company to a small brown creature. It was out of place among the other bright exotic Crykon horses. I was slightly surprised to see it was a Mage, similar to the likes of a dwarfed pony. Scarface placed me lopsidedly on the back of the pony and then mounted his Crykon. He still kept me tethered to him, holding tightly to the remains of the rope.
The light in the dwarf pony's eyes was dim. Mages were known to be packing animals, a rather discarded creature used all too often for traveling and transporting unwanted cargo—including prisoners. The poor thing was obviously underfed and weak.
I wobbled and jostled around with every step we took. The spiny, malnourished rump of the pony felt hard against my behind but was merely one uncomfortable factor among my intense hunger and still throbbing cheek.
The journey lasted hours. My eyes began to feel heavy the longer we journeyed. I nearly fell off the saddle several times during my dozing. The farther we rode, the more unfamiliar the terrain became.
“Do you think we’ll get much for her, Gillian?” I listened in as Droopyeye began a leisurely conversation between the four of them.
“I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Windeed. You know this is just to keep you from your hanging,” Scarface scoffed.
“Or we could just let her go. I think we’d all be a little less agitated without Windeed around,” the other soldier from the group suggested. He was the quiet one. He had gentle blue eyes and a round baby face. He seemed the youngest of them all and the least temperamental.
“I’d be careful what you say James. Word gets around,” Droopyeye growled. He was munching noisily on an apple. Not caring that small chunks were sloppily flying from his mouth onto his chin and clothes.
“Let’s stop here,” Tassadar called from up ahead, disrupting the conniving conversation between his followers.
The sun had gone down. The stars peeked out from behind the clouds to say good evening, and the air began to grow bitterly cold. The moon was the only light guiding us in the plethora of trees, along with the meek shimmering of the Crykon’s florid scales.
Once camp was set, I was given a piece of bread and some water, then a rough shove as I was forced back into my lowly tent. I clung to the remains of the small blanket, trying to keep warm while the men started a fire. I watched hypnotized by the shadow of the flame through the tent wall. It danced and twisted colors of orange and yellow, enticing my tired body into sleep. I couldn’t help the tears that dripped down my nose as I laid there, hoping someone would come and rescue me. It was terrifying to think what Tassadar was going to do when we arrived at our destination. And even more terrifying was the inkling I had deep down inside, that I wasn’t going to be found.
I AWOKE HOURS or maybe only minutes later. I couldn’t tell because the sky was still dark. I almost thought I was dreaming, but the fog blanketing my mind was quickly sharpened when I heard the tent flap open again.
“Up, princess,” one of the soldiers barked, awakening me from my short slumber.
It wasn’t long before we were back on the move, out in the cold. A faint blue hue on the horizon indicated it was dawn. I shivered, digging my fingers into the pony's thick furry coat.
The forest began to reveal more drastic changes as we traveled. The aspen trees were replaced with clusters of vast pine trees, and as the hours continued to drag on, my lips became cracked and bloody, shivers wracking my entire body. Small snowflakes began to fall from the sky, dusting my eyelashes and hair. The distance only thickened the inches of snow we treaded. It took the entire day it seemed.
The next time we stopped, we were still in the forest. The sound of branches crackled in the cold wind above our heads, and I fluttered my tired icy eyes open. In the distance, I could see the faint shimmer of yellow lights.
“We are at the southern border,” Tassadar called up ahead. As we walked forward through the snow, I could barely make out several dark shadows coming toward us. They met us in a clearing of trees, the men's faces unrecognizable in the dark.
“Greetings, captain told us you would be coming.”
“We have the princess. What are the captain’s orders?”
“Captain wishes to bring her to the tower.”
Tassadar nodded and began to lead us toward the lights in the distance. We gradually got closer and eventually we crossed over the tree line. We emerged into the midst of a village. A sign planted near one of the streets read“Ephony” in painted white letters. I looked up curiously from the Mage’s shoulder as we neared. The village had small bungalows dotting the brick streets, while shops and bakery signs hinted at what once used to be a lively center. Upon closer inspection, I could see some doors were missing or cracked. Remains of broken windows and shattered glass covered the ground. There was not a single sign of a civilian. Instead soldiers huddled together outside the bungalows, draped in black cloaks. They seemed to have seeped into the village like a disease. Massive portions of straw from the bungalow roofs looked to be burning in the men’s open fires. They all sat around, drinking with billows of smoke coming from cigars set snug between their sniggering lips.
As we passed through the small corrupted village, all the Obscurum soldiers in the camp turned to stare. A sea of murmurs could be heard as we walked by. Their wicked laughter stung my ears.
What looked to have once been the town meeting house came into sight. Guards stood outside the front doors, watching us with emotionless expressions as we approached. Scarface lifted me down, and I tumbled to the earth, the snowy cobble meeting my cheek. For a minute I was grateful to be lying down. I just stared at the falling snow from where I lay, watching as it drifted to the ground and hit in stark contrast to the ebony boots of the men beside me. Scarface grunted in annoyance as if my weakness inconvenienced him and lifted me by the arm, dragging my limp body up the steps.
It was immediately warmer inside, which I was grateful for. The ice sickles on my eyelashes melted away and dripped down my winter-bitten cheeks. They led me down a long hallway and I watched the lines on the wood floor with tired eyes. I could hear a door opening and then something in the air thickened noticeably. Cigar smoke swirled around the room, and I coughed on its thickness. All I could make out amongst the fumes were the chair legs of a big desk. A man stood behind it, awaiting us. My neck was too weak to lift, and I could only assess the hem of the man's black cloak and boots.
“Thank you, Tassadar, you’ve done
well.” The voice coming from the man behind the desk was husky and cold.
There was a soft clang as the door to the room closed shut. The shuffle of his footsteps was heard as he ventured toward me. I watched dejectedly as his boots tapped across the floor to stand directly in front of me. Fingers were met at the midline of my chin, and with a gentle push, the man lifted my head to look directly at him.
Everything about him screamed that he was some sort of evil. His black hair and cloak, along with his milky pale skin, were a menacing profile. His hair was long, reaching down to cascade around his shoulders. Underneath his cloak, a golden amber light could be seen. I knew the color signified high power. And his eyes, black as the midnight sky, were full of some unknown emotion that I feared to understand.
“Sabeara Aigoviel.” As he said my name, the sound of his voice and the grave villainous expression that graced his face, seemed oddly familiar.
“Who are you?” I could but muster a weak, raspy mumble.
“You’re going to make the king very happy, you know. Tell me, is it true that your sister was granted power over the air?”
I stayed silent, unsure of his motives for questioning.
“Wouldn’t it have been nice if you had been granted a power instead? That would’ve made this encounter much more interesting, wouldn't it?” He chuckled to himself before turning his attention to one of his soldiers. “Windeed, would you come over here?”
Droopyeye quickly came to stand beside me. “Yes captain.”
“Why don’t we show Sabeara here exactly what she needs to be afraid of?”
Droopyeye began to ramble in protest, but the captain wasn’t listening. He glared at his foot soldier, and the expression was so intense, I felt my blood run cold. I watched with terror as the light from Droopyeye’s chest began to fade slowly. He started to cough, then clutched his chest and fell to the ground as if he wasn’t getting enough air into his lungs. It slowly dawned on me that the captain was killing him. Just before the red hue in Droopyeye’s heart could completely fade away, the captain stopped and released him from his penetrating glare. I could hear Droopyeye’s gasping breaths as the captain released him from his terrifying power.
“It’s not nearly as much fun to have a mortal heart. But I’m sure your sister will give me plenty of entertainment when she gets here,” the captain said darkly. I glared up at him, sickened with his twisted amusement.
“Where is she?” I tried to shake away the hands that held me, but what I thought was a rough tug resulted in only a weak twitch of my body.
“Wouldn't you like to know?” The captain’s tone was exclusively cynical, and I watched as his boots shuffled back to his station behind the desk. “Take her to the tower. Make sure she doesn't escape,” he snapped, suddenly done with the conversation.
Scarface picked me up from the floor and began dragging me back the way we’d come. I was taken up a flight of stairs and down several more hallways before we stopped at what I assumed was the tower.
“Please, let me go,” I moaned.
“Shut up, child,” Scarface growled.
I heard the screech of metal as he unlatched a lock, likely leading
to my confinement. My tired body quickly met with the cold solid floor once again, and I groaned at the sting of the wood against my bruised knees and cheek. A set of cuffs were placed roughly around my ankles, and before I could begin to say anything else, he was leaving, locking the cell door.
I’d fallen onto a thin layer of straw, not much of a cushion against the wood and mostly soiled. The smell nearly caused me to vomit. I rolled onto my back, gasping for air. I concentrated on the narrowing tilt of the prison ceiling, wishing the nausea to abate. The roof gave the resemblance of a tower to my prison, and several windows dotted the walls, each covered with bars not giving any hope of escape. An outside wind drafted into my bastille, causing me to be wracked with more shivers.
Eyeing the chains that held me captive, I noticed the length might be long enough to allow me to see outside. With what little will power was left in me, I began to crawl and managed to inch my way to the window. Grasping the brick masonry with my cracked and bloodied fingertips, I hefted myself to my feet.
I finally could see out the window and managed to grasp the bars for support. I looked down at the small village and watched the black cloaked men in the camp. I noticed Tassadar and his men had settled in with the others, quickly becoming a part of their aggregation.
I hoped that somehow the captain of the black cloaks was putting on a delusory front. That Jasper was safe, and not also suffering at the hands of Obscurum soldiers. I did not want her to experience the man with the ebony eyes or the torture that would follow the both of us if we were led to the king of Obscurum.
FIVE
I didn't recall falling asleep, only nightmares of Obscurum soldiers and Tassadar torturing me. I sat up the next morning, exhausted. My wrists ached from the chains, and for a moment, I sat there, rubbing the feeling back into my numb fingers.
I could hear the sound of footsteps outside the cell door, and my heart quickened as the latch clicked open. Fearing it may be the captain, I shuddered toward the wall.
“Breakfast.”
A head peered around the side of the door, and to my relief, it wasn’t the captain. It was the kid with the blue eyes. He was the quiet one that had been part of Tassadar’s band of men. He quickly sauntered in, holding a bowl of food and some water. He was the last person I had expected to see.
He casually took a seat beside me and held out the food and water. Once my heart stopped racing, I was able to pull myself away from the wall and eyed him suspiciously. He rolled his eyes and motioned for me to eat.
“I promise it's not poisonous.”
Unable to contain my hunger I took the bowl and scooped out a portion of the porridge with my fingers. It was stale and cold, but my stomach hurt too much to care. I didn’t take a single breath as I drank the water and ate the tasteless mush.
“Easy now,” he cautioned. I tried to slow down, but it didn’t help much—I was starving.
“Thank you," I said, as I finished off the remaining oats from the bottom of the bowl.
“I brought you a new set of clothes.”
I was shocked as he offered me a worn old shirt and trousers with a ragged pair of moccasins from underneath his ebony cloak. With the motion, I caught a flicker of emerald green glowing from his chest and was surprised to find that he was Stone-Hearted.
“Why are you helping me?” I quickly took the clothes and pressed them to my chest, shivering into their soft fabric.
“Not everyone in a black cloak is bad you know.” He smiled at me and stood from the stone floor.
“What's your name soldier?” “James.”
I looked up at him and held out my nearly frozen purplish-blue hand. “I’m Sabeara.”
He shook it gently and gave me a sad smile. “I’ll be back tomorrow, Sabeara. Try and rest.”
He walked out the cell door, and I heard the door lock jingle back into place. It was a genuine surprise to find that he wasn’t as malicious as the rest.
I changed into my new set of clothes and was grateful for the extra layer of warmth. As the sun went down I was shivering a little less and found sleep to be easier that night in my cell. It didn’t stop the dreaming though, and images of black eyes and black cloaks filled my subconscious.
THE NEXT MORNING James appeared again, breakfast in hand, and this time I ate slower. I took my time eating the mushy porridge and even found the courage to ask him more questions.
“Is my sister all right?” All night I had been wracked with terrifying dreams of my sister being captured. I couldn’t deny that it was a possibility.
“The captain just wants you to be afraid. We don’t have your sister,” James said, and I immediately sighed in relief. “But I can’t say he isn't planning on capturing her,” he added.
I began to wonder why he was being so honest. It ma
de me question if his candor was sincere.
“Why are you following the captain? You don’t seem like the others.”
“Let’s just say I didn't quite know what I was getting myself into.”
“You left Aveladon because of my father, didn’t you?” I knew this had to be the case. Someone like James didn’t turn to the Obscurum Army for just any reason. There had to have been a purpose behind him being a part of this insurgent kingdom.
He chuckled almost darkly, "I don’t know if you’ve seen what's happened in his absence. But some cities in Aveladon are starving, councilman rule without punishment. There has been no real law, and so many injustices have transpired. Sometimes the princess would show her face, speak a few words of encouragement, but no change ever occurred. Just bandages for the lack of commitment from the king. Soon my family was starving, and I needed the money. . .”
“So you joined Obscurum.” I already knew the end of his story. It saddened me to think about my father's reign and how it had resulted in such an outcome. After my mother had died, he had become grief stricken. He neglected the kingdom, and basically surrendered his responsibility as ruler and king. Obscurum was taking advantage of our weakened system and it was now causing fatal outcomes for Aveladon.
"So I joined the Obscurum Army, and now I am imprisoned by a ruler that if I ever waver, I will surely be killed.”
My heart twisted with sadness at his words. It made me angry that if it hadn’t been for my father's reign, none of this would be happening.
“What is the Obscurum king planning?”
James hesitated for a moment, realizing maybe he was saying too much. I waited patiently to see if he’d give in and tell me, and eventually he did.
“Obsidian, the captain of the Obscurum army has been ordered by King Elysian to bring you and your sister to him.”
Granted (Granted Series Book 1) Page 4
