by James Dale
Kiathan grabbed Braedan by his shirt, lifted him easily, and threw him against the wall. "You are a simple pirate!" he shouted. "What is it about you that worries me so?" When he still refused to answer, the duke punched him viciously in the stomach and Jack slipped to the floor, gasping for breath.
"Enough Kiathan!" said Sir Gain, entering the cell. "Leave him be." The knight had his sword drawn.
Kiathan wheeled about at the knight's sudden appearance, but quickly regained his composure. "Very well," the duke smiled, eyeing the drawn sword with contempt. "We are finished Jack Braedan. For now." He turned on his heels and headed for the cell door, then turned to glare at Braedan lying on the floor. "Enjoy your supper," he said casually, kicking the plate and its contents across the room.
Sir Gain helped Jack to his feet and over to his bunk. "I came as soon as Sir Roger told me what was happening. We do not beat prisoners in the Tower of the White Horse."
"Someone forgot to mention it to Kiathan," Jack muttered, touching his swollen lip.
"Shall I send for a physician?" asked Sir Gain.
"Just some water. If you don't mind?" asked Jack.
"Of course," nodded the knight. "I’ll bring you another plate as well.” As he was leaving the cell, Sir Gain stopped in the doorway. "I am truly sorry Braedan. It will not happen again." Then he closed and lock the door.
"I guess it's not going to be so boring around here after all," Jack sighed.
Soon afterwards, Sir Roger returned with a pitcher of water and another plate of food. When he entered the cell, he could not bring himself to look at Braedan. Apparently, he was ashamed of what he had let happen to the prisoner left in his charge. Braedan thanked him but the knight only mumbled some reply, looking at his feet as he backed out of the cell.
Jack took a tentative sip of the water, then began breaking off small pieces of the dark bread and cheese, chewing slowly because of his injured jaw. When he had finished eating, he took the empty tray and slid it through a small hole cut in the bottom of the door, then he returned to his bunk.
He lay there for perhaps an hour, staring at the ceiling, on the verge of drifting off to sleep until he heard voices speaking in the corridor. They were conversing in low tones and he could not make out what was being said, but it was obvious they were in disagreement. Thinking the duke had returned to continue his interrogation, he began frantically searching the small cell for something to use as a weapon. Kiathan would not find it so easy to ask his questions a second time.
The cell door opened and Sir Gain stood in the entrance. "You will remain seated and make no sudden moves," the knight announced, an unhappy look on his face. "Against my better judgment, you two will be alone. But I will be just outside the door."
"Kiathan?" Jack asked.
"No," Sir Gain replied in a strained voice. "Someone else." He stepped out of the doorway and bowed to whomever waited in the hall. "Call out if you need me."
"Thank you, cousin," the visitor replied, and stepped into the cell. Although the newcomer was dressed in a long brown robe with a hood that shadowed her face, Jack immediately recognized the musical voice, though he had heard it only once before.
Placing his hand on his sword, Sir Gain locked stares with Braedan. "If you harm her," the knight warned, "on my oath as a Knight of the White Horse, that moment will be your last on this earthe." He let the threat sink in, then left the cell leaving the door open.
The visitor removed her robe and Braedan looked for the first time upon Annawyn, Princess of the House of Ellgereth. Dorad had described Annawyn to him many times before, but his young friend had been viewing her through a brother's eyes, and from memories of her youth. He'd said his sister was beautiful, but that simple word could not begin to convey the perfection of the Princess of Doridan. How does one describe the warmth that fills your heart when looking upon the first flowers in bloom after a long, cold winter? How does one put into words the piercing brightness of the sky after the passing of a storm? She was perhaps five feet nine, maybe even taller, and dressed in a close fitting, pale topaz gown which did little to disguise what lay underneath, a full, supple body that was at the same time as sleek and taut as a jungle cat preparing to spring. It was the hardened body of a warrior, tempered like steel, but no one would ever doubt it belonged to a woman.
Although the evening sun was at the wrong angle to shine through the lone tower window, light seemed to dance from her long auburn hair as she shook her luxurious mane free of the robe, sending it tumbling over her shoulders and halfway down her back. She brushed aside an errant lock, revealing a perfect oval face, high cheekbones, and a slender, slightly upturned nose above full, generous lips. Sparkling emerald eyes the color of the sea rose to meet his gaze, and though her flawless skin was tanned by the strong southern sun, she blushed visibly under his unabashed stare.
"Have you never seen a woman before Jack Braedan?" she asked, folding her robe over her arm.
"I..." Jack closed his open mouth with an embarrassed snap, suddenly at a loss for words. "I thought I had," he finally managed. "Until now."
"Thessa said you were charming," she smiled, pleased at his compliment. "And handsome as well."
When Braedan did not answer, she walked over and sat down on the bunk beside him as if visiting prisoners accused of piracy was something a princess did every day. With a gesture of surprising concern, she reached up with a perfectly formed hand and touched his battered face. Though the caress was as delicate as a butterfly, Braedan shuddered as if her hand held a lightning bolt.
"These are fresh!" she asked, anger creeping into her musical voice. "Who did this? One of the Tower Knights?"
"No," Braedan said, barely above a whisper. “Not the knights.”
He'd never been so affected by the mere presence of a woman. Her beauty was hypnotizing. Her sea green eyes held him faster than any chains of steel. It wasn't lust that filled him. No physical emotion could have been so strong. At that instant he felt…like he’d been wandering alone in the night his entire life, lost on a treacherous path, but now the moon shone brightly, illuminating his way through the dark. It was if the touch of her hand on his cheek had awakened some slumbering light deep within him, and it now would never be night again. If Braedan had dared try to speak what he was feeling out loud, he would be laughed at the words of a fool. Kaiddra, his Queen of the Sea, was barely dead a month, and yet here he was thinking these things about a woman he’d just met. But on his life, he couldn’t deny the emotions that stirred within him.
"Sir Gain!" she cried. The knight rushed in, sword in hand. "He has been beaten! Fetch a physician at once!"
"I offered," Sir Gain replied defensively. "But he refused."
"Fetch a physician at once," she repeated.
"Yes highness," bowed Sir Gain, returning his sword to its sheath and leaving the cell.
"Who was it?" the princess asked, returning her attention to Braedan, gently moving his head to the left and right, examining his wounds. "I placed you in Gain's care. If he has allowed this to happen, the Tower will hear from the crown."
"Sir Gain isn't to blame," Jack said, reaching up to take her hand from his face. It was surprisingly strong, not delicate and manicured like he imagined the hand of a princess ought to be, but the calloused hand of a swordsman. Yet there was also an underlying softness and warmth. She did not seem to notice when he didn't release it.
"Then who?" the princess demanded.
"Your fiancé."
Annawyn stiffened in shock. "Kiathan? You are mistaken. He would never...."
"And this morning?" Jack asked quietly.
"An unfortunate misunderstanding," the princess replied. "Kiathan has already reprimanded the captain of his guard."
"If I may be so bold your highness," Jack said, reluctantly letting go of her hand to touch his swollen lip. "You don't know Kiathan as well as you think."
"And you do?" Annawyn asked sharply, standing to place her hands on her hips.
/> "I've seen...and felt enough to form a rough opinion," Jack replied grimly. "No pun intended."
"And what might that be, sirrah?"
"I really don't think you want to know," he sighed.
"You cannot be speaking of the Duke of Raashan," Annawyn laughed uneasily. “He can be…abrupt. He can be forceful. But he is not cruel.”
"Abrupt?" Jack snorted. "Is that how you describe beating a chained man when he won’t answer questions? Is forceful executing a helpless elder because you don’t like what he says in the market place? I don’t think Errand Elldann would describe his murder as forceful."
"Impossible," the princess argued. "No one can order executions in Doridan but my father."
"What about the crewmen captured with Tarsus and me?" Jack fired back. "Kiathan has killed them as well!"
"You and the Amarian were the only two prisoners Captain Ellgaer delivered to Dorshev," Annawyn insisted.
"You're kidding, right?" asked Jack, his anger flaring like a white hot sun. "If you could spare a minute away from brushing your hair long enough to check, I'm sure you can find someone who knows the truth. We were only on three different ships before we arrived here. You've chosen quite a husband for yourself princess. Dorad would be proud."
"How dare you speak to me this way!" she whispered in shock. "You cannot possibly be the same man who rescued the Countess of Brythond! Thessa Arthol would never have chosen such a, such a cretin as her champion. You are obviously an imposter!" She looked as if she wanted to slap him, but instead turned abruptly on her heels and started for the door.
"Wait!" Jack cried, jumping to his feet.
Sir Gain burst into the cell at his shout, sword at the ready.
"Thessa carried a letter for you! From Dorad!"
Annawyn stopped.
Braedan thought quickly before Sir Gain could escort the princess from his cell. He had only glanced at the letter in passing while he and Thessa were helping Dorad pack his things on the Seawolf, but the one part he saw he remembered well.
"Although I have only known him a short time," he quoted, "Jack is a great and true friend. When we have escaped the Brotherhood and have made our way to Brythond, you must come one day and meet him."
The princess turned to face him once more.
"I am sorry. Please stay," Jack pleaded, trying not to let desperation creep into his voice. "Please?"
Annawyn studied him for a moment then turned back to Sir Gain. "I will remain awhile longer cousin."
"Are you sure highness?" the knight asked.
"Go," she nodded. "I would hear what he has to say."
Sir Gain bowed reluctantly and closed the door.
"Do you really have a message from my brother?" Annawyn asked.
"No," Jack admitted, sitting back down on the bunk. "When the Seawolf returned to the Felnors after delivering Thessa, we found Brimcohn already in flames."
"Is...Is he dead?" she asked, her voice almost breaking.
"I don't know," Braedan sighed truthfully. "Admiral Kailmax said he was out of port when the Norgarthans attacked. It's possible he escaped."
"You lied to me!" she said, growing angry again.
"I did," Braedan nodded. "And I'm sorry. It was our...it was my plan to trick you into believing Dorad was in danger, and only Tarsus and I could save him. So you would help us escape."
"Why tell me this?" she asked, puzzled. "Dorad and I were very close. I would have fallen for such a vile lie."
"I don't know," Jack sighed. "Tarsus will probably skin me alive when he finds out I've blown our only chance to get out of this place. When...when I saw you, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Dorad was...is, a special man. Were I to lie to his sister, to give you false hope just to save my own life...I'm ashamed I even consider it."
"You are a strange man Jack Braedan," Princess Annawyn remarked, looking at him curiously. "You are a pirate, yet few nobles in Doridan possess the honor you have just shown."
"Don't be so quick to change your opinion," Braedan smiled, then winced from the pain of his swollen lip. "I've been far from honorable lately."
"Humble as well," Annawyn said, returning his smile. "A trait also wanting in Doridan of late. I misspoke. Thessa chose wisely when she selected you as her champion."
"I hope she doesn't regret her choice when she hears I've been crucified," Jack remarked.
"Doridan does not crucify prisoners!" Annawyn cried, horrified at the mere suggestion.
"Does Kiathan know this?" Jack laughed grimly. "Apparently he's thinking of making a few changes in Dorshev you and your father aren't aware of."
"He told you you are to be crucified?" the princess asked astonished.
"He told me a lot of things during his little...visit," Jack nodded. "I guess he never thought I'd have the chance to share his secrets with anyone."
"I must speak with father at once," Annawyn said. "If this is true, Kiathan has overstepped his authority."
Annawyn quickly donned her robe and Braedan thought frantically for something, anything that would keep this beautiful young woman in his presence a few minutes longer. He knew once she walked out the door, Kiathan would never allow him to see her again. And that would make crucifixion seemed a blessing.
"Anna," he said softly.
She stopped tying the robe and turned to face him. Braedan could see tears forming in her emerald eyes. "No one has called since that since Dorad was exiled," she whispered. "I will do what I can for you, Jack Braedan. For your service to Thessa...and for being Dorad's great and true friend."
"Be careful Anna. Kiathan is dangerous," Braedan warned. "He...he wants your father's throne." He was suddenly as sure of this as he was his own name. "I have a feeling he'll do anything, kill anyone...who gets in his way."
Before the princess' face was once again concealed by the hood of her robe, Braedan saw the hurt in her green eyes. For the first time it appeared she was beginning to believe some of the things he'd said. She looked...betrayed. Thankfully, Braedan also saw something else before she disappeared through the door of his cell. He saw the unmistakable look of anger.
Chapter Twenty
King Ellgenn’s Court
One of the physicians serving the Tower soon came to check on Braedan's injuries. While he applied a salve to his cuts and bruises, Sir Gain stood just inside the cell with a troubled look on his face. It was obvious he wasn't pleased with all the commotion his unwanted prisoner was causing. It was likewise just as obvious he'd heard every word Jack had said to the princess. When the physician had quickly and efficiently finished his treatment and pronounced him reasonably fit, Sir Gain removed the chains from his wrists, gave him a thoughtful look, and then departed without a word, leaving Braedan alone once more.
After Sir Gain and the doctor had departed, there were no further visitors to Braedan's cell. Three times a day his meals were pushed through the slot in the door, and when he was finished eating, he slid the empty tray back in the same manner. When his honey pot needed to be emptied, he repeated the process. Later, another one would be wordlessly returned. After a tumultuous beginning, his imprisonment in the Tower of the White Horse quickly became tedious and routine.
To fight off the oppressive boredom Braedan began a vigorous workout program to get his body back in shape. Since the sinking of the Seawolf, he'd been in chains for almost a month. The first time he started his workout, the knight on guard outside his cell opened the door and watched him curiously. When Jack paid him no heed, the knight eventually grew bored and relocked the door. He spent the remainder of his days either looking out his lone window or sleeping.
This monotonous cycle continued without change for three weeks and Braedan began to wonder if he'd been forgotten by everyone except the cooks and guards. Then on the twenty-third day of confinement according to his marks on the wall, he heard the key rattle in the lock of his cell door and a hooded figure entered. His sprang to his feet, his heart pounding in his chest, but when the visitor
pulled back her hood, it wasn’t Annawyn, but a stern faced woman with short blonde hair and smoke-gray eyes. She was attractive to be sure, but in a hard way, like a finely made sword could be admired.
“You were expecting someone else?” she asked, seeing his obvious disappointment.
“You are?” asked Jack, taking a seat on his cot.
“Captain Einnael Edard, commander of the princess’ Horsemaidens,” the woman replied. “I have a message for you, Jack Braedan.”
She walked forward and handed him a small wooden tube. He opened it eagerly to reveal a small parchment with a note written in delicate script.
Jack,
Forgive me for not returning. Father has banned me from the tower.
Kiathan denies everything, but his words do not ring true.
Your trial is today. Take heart. Your friends have not abandoned you.
Anna
Just reading that Anna counted herself as his friend brought a smile to his lips, reawakening the emotions she had stirred in him. He shredded the note and dropped it in his honey pot. His trial was today, but what did he have to fear if Annawyn was his friend? “Thank you captain,” Jack smiled.
The Horsemaiden nodded in reply and, turned to leave. “Captain! Could you take a message to Anna…to the princess? Could you tell her…would you tell her I’m sorry about that whole, brushing her hair thing?”
Einnael regarded him silently for a moment. “You are not…unhandsome,” she remarked slowly. “If you were cleaned up a bit. Dare speak to her that way again however…”
“I would sooner tear out my own tongue than insult her,” Braedan vowed.
“Insult her again, and I will do it for you,” the Horsemaiden replied. This time however, there was the hint of a smile on her lips.
After the Horsemaiden captain left him, Sir Gain arrived with his breakfast, a pitcher of water, a towel and a change of clothes.
"Eat, then wash yourself and put these on," the knight announced. "In an hour you will be taken before the king."
"Don't want me stinking up the palace, eh?" Jack asked. The last time he'd had anything even resembling a bath was when he'd jumped over the side of the burning Seawolf into the ocean. He stripped out of his filthy clothes and tossed them in a corner, then dumped half of the pitcher over his head and scrubbed his hair and beard furiously. After his scalp and face tingled from the rough treatment, he poured the remainder of the pitcher over his body, and vigorously rubbed himself down with the towel. It didn't come close to removing all of the grime which had accumulated over the last two months, but the water was scented with a sweet-smelling flower and it at least covered the smell. However inadequate, it felt wonderful.
