“Don’t flatter yourself. I never wanted to see you.” Corin spat out blood. This time, one of the soldiers drove his spear butt hard into Corin’s ribs leaving him gasping for breath.
The captain held out all of Corin’s weapons. Lord Balkor dismissed the long bow and the knives but took his scimitar. Unsheathing the blade, he inspected it carefully.
“This is the finest Calorin workmanship. Stolen most likely. And how did an outlaw learn to use it?” Lord Balkor asked.
Corin did not answer even after several hard blows were given.
“My lord Balkor! I heard that a prisoner had been taken, and I came to congratulate you,” an all-too-familiar voice said.
Corin raised his head to see Ismail standing there, flanked by his guards. Any surprise they must have felt at seeing him was quickly masked behind impassive expressions.
“Yes, the cursed outlaws’ leader himself,” Lord Balkor said.
Ismail again offered congratulations, but the words seemed forced.
“And now, perhaps you can help me, Lord Ismail. How do you suppose he got this scimitar?” Lord Balkor held the sword out to Ismail.
Ismail took the scimitar and lifted it experimentally. “This must have been a captain’s sword, judging by the blade. A captain that he must have killed in order to obtain it.”
“Yes, exactly. And now he shall pay for the offences he has committed against us and for his ill-advised rebellion,” Lord Balkor said.
“We didn’t ask for you and your pathetic Sultaan to invade! You don’t care about the men you’ve lost, they were just pawns. You’ve never had any conscience!” Corin spat, unable to contain his hatred any longer.
Balkor stared into his blazing blue eyes. “Let me see his right hand,” he ordered.
The soldiers untied Corin and held his arms firmly. Balkor cut off the glove covering Corin’s palm.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the slave boy. I think you remember how I’ve dealt with you in the past,” Balkor sneered.
“You never broke me.” A hint of pride tinged his defiance.
“Perhaps. But once again, you are under my power. Farid, bring the girl!” Balkor shouted at one of his generals.
A few minutes later, Farid returned, leading Amaura by her arm.
“We caught her yesterday trying to pass information to the forest,” Balkor said. “Her contact was killed, but before he died, he was kind enough to reveal that she is the princess.”
Corin bit back a curse. Balkor would stop at nothing until he got information. Emeth clasped his hands tightly behind him, the muscles along his jaw tensing as he looked past them. Beside him, Ahmed stared fixedly at the floor. Whatever happened, Corin knew they could not interfere. And he would do whatever he could to make sure they didn’t. He couldn’t risk them too.
“Now, boy, you will tell me everything, or she dies slowly before your eyes. Do not deceive me! You know what I’m capable of!” Balkor threatened.
“Corin, don’t! I don’t care what they do to me!” Amaura cried.
Balkor hit her across the mouth. “Don’t underestimate me, boy!” he thundered.
Amaura’s eyes pleaded Corin not to betray his men. Indecision tore at him. He wanted to save his sister, but if he gave up his men, then Aredor would die. He had to choose.
“I’m sorry, Maurie,” he whispered. Then he turned to face Balkor. “If we both die, so be it. But when we do, our secrets will remain safe.”
Lord Balkor was slightly taken aback his reply. “Very well, you shall have your wish. You will both die together tomorrow at midday.”
As the guards began leading Corin and Amaura away, Ismail stirred.
“Wait!” he commanded. “Lord Balkor, it has occurred to me that it might be better not to kill the girl.”
“What do you mean?” Balkor asked.
“Executing them together makes them stronger, for in a way, they will have defeated you. The people will understand the execution of a rebel, but a princess will seem like a martyr. Let me take her to Calorin. A life of servitude weakens the resolve. Or better yet, marriage to a Calorin. For instance, my father would welcome a union between my brother Castimir and a princess,” Ismail said.
Corin froze, staring at Ismail as his mind refused to fully process what he was implying.
Amaura must have understood most of what was said, and cried out, “I would rather die!”
Corin stirred. Time to do his part. He launched a tirade of Calorin at Balkor and Ismail, forcing the guards to restrain him. He sincerely hoped that Amaura didn’t understand much Calorin. Despite the situation, he noticed a faint quirk around Emeth’s mouth as he still refused to look directly at them.
When Lord Balkor saw the prisoners’ reaction to Ismail’s suggestion, a smile spread across his face.
“A fine idea, Lord Ismail. Yes, take the girl. I think you and I shall succeed together in finally subduing this land.”
Ismail bowed. “I look forward to it, my lord.” He ordered the soldiers to follow with Amaura, and left the hall without a backward glance.
Balkor turned to Corin. “Farid, don’t take him directly to the dungeons. Make sure it hurts.” And he left.
Farid saluted. Grabbing Corin he said, “You’ve caused me too much trouble. I’ll make you suffer for it!”
Corin’s eyes blazed dangerously “Try!” he spat.
* * *
Ismail dismissed the soldiers as soon as they arrived at his chambers.
“Tell Lord Balkor that I will leave shortly. As soon as the girl is safely on her way to the ships, I will return to witness the execution,” he told the captain. Once the door closed behind them, Emeth turned to Ismail.
“What are you playing at, sir?” he demanded.
“I’d like to know the same,” Ahmed said.
“Repaying a debt, and I’m tired of playing along to Balkor’s whims. Emeth, ask her how to get to the outlaws.” Ismail pointed to where the young woman huddled on the bench.
“Follow the river until we find you.” Corin’s words flashed through Emeth’s mind.
“No need, sir. I think I know,” he stammered.
“Sir, what are we going to do?” Ahmed asked.
“Hamíd is in trouble, set to die. I refuse to let that happen. He’d do the same for any of us,” Ismail replied. “Emeth, I’m not asking how you know the way, just make sure it’s fast. Ahmed, saddle the horses. We don’t have much time.”
* * *
Silence reigned in the caves after Liam delivered the news. Darrin questioned Ian on what had happened, along with his report that the Calorin forces were severely diminished. Darrin sent Kara to bring Martin and his patrol back to caves. Not an hour later, Kieran rode in with news that Corin had been taken to Kingscastle.
“They’ve been spreading the news that they’ve caught the Hawk,” Kieran said.
Darrin dismissed the men in order to talk in private with the Lieutenants. “Any ideas?” he asked.
“There are several ways we could get in, but how do we get out? You saw Ian and Kara after being their captives,” Trey said.
“This won’t be easy. The dungeons at Kingscastle aren’t very accessible, and he’ll be heavily guarded, if he’s still alive at all.” Darrin forced himself to sit. Panicking wouldn’t help Corin. But they all knew the somber truth of the statement. Balkor could have easily plunged a sword through Corin as soon as he learned his identity.
“But do you think Balkor would have killed him? He could decide to make a huge event out of an execution. I doubt he’d leave Corin very long in the dungeons.” Tristan tapped an anxious hand against his knee.
“I don’t see how that’s supposed to help!” Martin snapped, his face creased with worry. The others understood his agitation all too well.
“If they were right about the troops, then we should send a message to Dandin. With his help, we can retake Lynwood and hold it against Balkor,” Darrin said. He sent for Kieran, who left shortly after. “Marti
n, follow with your patrol and meet Dandin.”
“No!” came Martin’s sharp refusal. “If you’re going in after Corin, then I’m coming too. Or are you leaving him there to die while you try to retake the Keep?” The challenge in his voice was unmistakable. Trey laid a restraining hand on Martin’s arm, but he was shaken off.
Darrin rose and faced Martin. “We have a distinct advantage here. In retaking the Keep, we take back part of Aredor. Corin would understand its importance.”
“I don’t care about that blasted keep!” Martin shouted. “Every man out there owes him their life! I’m not going to let him die, and if you won’t try and rescue him, then I’ll go alone!”
“Do not think that I don’t want to destroy Kingscastle to find him, but Corin would gladly give his life if it meant freedom from the Calorins!” Darrin’s voice rose to match Martin’s. Every ounce of brotherly instinct urged him to forget about the country and charge to Corin’s aid. Corin already had enough scars from Balkor, and Darrin hated to think what else Balkor could do to him.
Martin was stopped from replying again when Llewellyn came in.
“Sire, you’d better come outside. There’s something you need you see,” he said.
Darrin and the others hurried out of the caves. Standing in the early evening light and surrounded by wary outlaws, was a Calorin with his two guards, and Amaura.
Chapter 19
Night had fallen by the time Corin was taken to the dungeon. Soldiers dragged him down the corridor and pushed him into the cell. Taking the chains that were fastened to the wall, they locked them around his wrists and left.
Corin slumped against the wall, bruised and battered. Farid and his men had contented themselves with spears and fists. He dimly remembered losing consciousness twice through the ordeal. Manacles clinked as he raised his arm and carefully wiped blood from his face with his sleeve. His ribs and left wrist throbbed unmercifully. The iron bars of the cell walls gave it a cage-like appearance that Corin hated.
A small window near the ceiling allowed him a narrow view of the night sky. The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness again was a small, bright star.
* * *
“What are you doing here? How did you find us?” Darrin demanded.
One of the guards, a northerner by his look, replied in Rhyddan, “I’m the one who sent Corin the message. He told me where to find you in case I needed help. My master, Lord Ismail, wanted to talk, so I brought him.”
Darrin turned to Ismail. “What do you want?” he asked in Calorin.
Ismail surprised him by replying in Rhyddan. “I came first to bring your princess here. Second, because a man we both know is sentenced to die tomorrow and, I would stop it.”
“Why would you help the captain?” Trey asked.
“Because he saved my life by fighting off an attacking lion, and I swore to repay him. Now seems like the time,” Ismail replied.
Darrin looked at him in new interest. “You realize that you are betraying your lord by doing this?”
Ismail looked him in the eye. “We have not received any more men since last spring because our Sultaan is dealing with an uprising on his southern borders. Many outposts stand deserted. Kingscastle is held by only seventy men. Our hold in this country is slim. We have lost many, many men. We do not belong here.”
“It’s true, Darrin. I was trying to get you a message when I got caught,” Amaura said.
“You have risked a great deal in coming here,” Darrin said. “I see why my brother respects you so much.”
Emeth quietly translated for Ahmed.
“Do you agree with what Ismail’s doing?” Emeth asked.
“I thought about it on the ride here. I think I do now. We each have our own country. I just want this to be over so that we can go home,” Ahmed answered. “I just would have expected it more from Castimir.”
Emeth agreed. “I hope this works and that Balkor never finds out. I’d hate to think about what might happen then.”
“It’s a dangerous game to be sure, but Ismail’s been putting on an act for Balkor since we got here. He can pull us through.” Ahmed even looked like he believed his statement.
“Aiden! You seem to get around a bit,” Tristan said.
Emeth grinned. “Tristan! I hoped to see you here.”
“You still owe me a story, so I’ll stick around for a bit,” Tristan replied. He extended a hand to Ahmed, who hesitantly clasped it. “Sorry, my Calorin is not the best, but you must be Ahmed,” Tristan said in Calorin. “Corin told us a few stories about you two.”
“Which ones?” Emeth asked curiously.
“An attack on the Argusian border. If I recall, the city was surrounded.”
“Latharn! He probably didn’t even mention what he did during the battle,” Emeth exclaimed. “Ahmed, you can tell the story better than me.” Prompted by Emeth, Ahmed related the entire story of the battle and the desperate sorties to break the siege.
Tristan shook his head in wonder as the tale finished. “What a fight! Your Lord Rishdah isn’t short on nerve.”
Further conversation was interrupted when Tristan was called to join Darrin.
“Martin and Trey will go back with Ismail. They can easily get into the castle. You two know what to do from there?” Darrin asked. Martin and Trey nodded. “Flynn, take Martin’s patrol and join Clan Dyson at Lynwood. Have Dandin bring some of his men and meet the rest of us farther down the Track. We’ll go to Kingscastle and stop the execution tomorrow,” Darrin finished. “Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” came the reply. Martin and Trey hurried to don Calorin uniforms. They fastened black masks about their lower face and donned helmets. Shortly thereafter, Ismail left to return to Kingscastle with two extra “guards.”
“Kara, I want you to take Amaura to the settlement. I think you know which hut,” Darrin said with a wink to Kara. A fresh horse was brought for Amaura.
“Make your way back as fast as you can, Kara. We might need you again,” Darrin ordered.
Kara saluted and led Amaura out into the night. Not long after, Flynn and his men rode out to meet Dandin and Clan Dyson.
* * *
Corin awoke before midnight. He carefully moved into a more comfortable position and tried to ignore a raging thirst and hunger.
“You look a little worse for the wear,” a voice startled him. Another prisoner sat in the cell to his left. The shadows cast by the torches made it hard to see the man’s face clearly.
“I’ve had better days,” Corin answered, leaning against the wall.
His fellow prisoner chuckled. “So I take it you’re one of the outlaws.”
“Aye, that I am. I ran into some bad luck this morning. Thought a dungeon might be a good place to wait for it to change.” Corin gave a crooked smile.
The man laughed again. “It might take a while. I’ve tried it for four years, and I still haven’t gotten anywhere.”
“You been down here all this time?” Corin shifted the manacle around his swelling wrist. He couldn’t remember any other prisoners when he came for Darrin.
“I was captured near the mountains. The Calorins took Burkehead Tower by the border and stuck me there. From what I’ve heard, Clan Gunlon has been making some raids, so they brought me to this hole for safekeeping.”
“Were you with the king when you were captured?” Hope flared in him for a moment.
“I guess you could say that I was. Here, see if you can reach this.” He pushed a beaker through the bars.
Corin managed to catch the rim and pull it towards him. Relief seeped through him as he heard the slosh of water. Raising it to his lips, he took a sip and rinsed the blood from his mouth. He took two more mouthfuls and then set the beaker down.
“You been on many campaigns?” The man clearly approved the way he rationed the water.
“I’ve been on a few. I traveled and fought for a while in the south. I’ve been back home two years now.” Corin leaned back against the w
all.
“Probably didn’t get the homecoming you expected,” the man commented.
“No, I made it to the forest as fast as I could and met up with the beginnings of the Hawk Flight.”
“Who leads this Hawk Flight now?”
“Myself and Prince Darrin. He escaped early last year,” Corin said.
The man sighed in relief. “Lleu be praised! That boy is still alive,” he whispered.
They lapsed into silence for a few minutes.
“I heard them call you ‘the Hawk,’ so you are no common soldier. Do you expect to be rescued?” the man asked.
“I don’t know. We’ve discovered something important. If Darrin joins forces with the Clans, he can end the war. I hope he’s doing that instead of trying to get me out. Of course by tomorrow, it won’t matter.” A strange sort of resignation had settled over him. Ian would have gotten back and delivered the news. Darrin would know the importance of acting on it first.
“You don’t seem afraid.”
“I learned a long time ago to hide what I felt.” Bitterness and anger at Balkor crept into his voice.
“You are willing to sacrifice yourself if Darrin chooses to retake Lynwood?”
“If I can die and give Aredor her freedom back, I’d have done it a long time ago,” Corin said. “I just wish I could die on a battlefield instead of a scaffold.”
“Don’t give up yet, there’s still time,” the prisoner said.
Corin smiled. “You’re not the first to ever tell me that.” He wished he could see the man’s face. There was something achingly familiar about the voice. Did he dare hope?
Despite the man’s words, dawn came quickly as the sun’s first rays peeked through the window. Heavy footsteps sounded in the corridor, and Balkor stood in front of the door. Two soldiers entered the cell, unchained Corin, and hauled him upright.
“I would have visited earlier, but I was preparing something for you,” Balkor said. “I believe I might have to endure some sort of escape attempt before the execution. So in order to ensure your death, I made this.” He held up a small dagger carefully. “The blade is covered with the venom of the adder that lives in the sands of Argus. It’s been treated such that the victim will live for days before dying. Days racked with the worst pain ever imagined.”
The Rise of Aredor Page 28
