Forcing her eyes to starboard she could see the enemy ship along their side. They were so close that she could see the actions of the crew, bustling around the vessel to lay a gangplank across, allowing passage from one ship to the other. Men from both sides rushed into the fray, swords held high, metal clashing against metal in their valiant efforts to push the other back. In a burst of confidence she unfastened the shield from her hand, tossing it to the floor. The weight of it would only hinder her in battle. She needed to be fast. Agile. It was only a matter of seconds before the pirates would break through the frontline defenses and make their way onto the ship.
She watched in dismay at the sight of the pirates gaining the upper hand on the gangplanks, pushing the Vor’shai soldiers to retreat onto the ship. Their numbers were impressive. For a small vessel, Ireni managed to keep a strong crew. More than seemed necessary. But Ireni wasn’t a fool. She knew what she was up against in taking on a ship that carried the Royal Army of the Tanispan Queen.
Edric was quickly swept away by the approach of the pirates. He fought with skill and grace, his strength equal to that of the soldiers. Aiva had no chance to appreciate his technique. Her eyes were drawn to the familiar sight of a single woman moving confidently along the deck, brown eyes flashing with a hint of the Vor’shai energy. Never had Ireni looked so intimidating. Blonde hair blown about her face in the wind from under a black tricorne hat edged in gold embroidery to match the trim of her tailored jacket. White ruffles from her undershirt cascaded down the front of her chest. Thigh-high black leather boots covered her legs over her pants, gold buckles shining in the light of the afternoon sun. She walked with determined strides, the cutlass in her hand gripped tightly, tip pointed at Aiva in challenge.
“I was not finished with you, Princess.”
“And I was not finished with you,” Aiva retorted, unsheathing her sword to return Ireni’s challenge. Their swords rose into the air, aimed toward the other in preparation to strike.
To Aiva’s surprise the clash that followed was not from her own weapon. A larger figure of a man stood in front of her, creating a barrier between Aiva and Ireni. General Cadell stepped forward with even thrusts of his blade to cut off Ireni’s path. “You will have to go through me if you desire business with Princess Aiva,” he said coolly. Ireni’s laughter filled the air. Aiva recalled the sound from their encounter on Palinon, like chimes blown on a gentle breeze. So feminine for a woman who lacked all social grace.
“You must be the legendary General,” Ireni mused. Her cutlass moved with incredible speed, deflecting every strike Cadell directed at her. They continued in a constant flurry of motion, neither one leaving an opening to give advantage to the other. Aiva watched in stunned silence at the remarkable scene with a newfound respect for General Cadell. Ireni showed no sign of fatigue. With every lunge she seemed to grow stronger, her own surprise evident at Cadell’s every parry of her blade. “Based on your son’s clumsiness with a sword, I expected you to be an easy match. You’re not bad for an old man.”
This time it was Cadell who laughed. “You can only hope to live as long as I have, Esai.”
Footsteps along the deck pulled Aiva from her head, reminding her of the battle which continued to wage around her. Spinning to face whoever approached, she found herself face-to-face with a larger, barrel-chested man, his cutlass brandished high. She stumbled backward under the force of his initial strike, her sword lifted to block the blade. He was strong. There was no mistaking that. If she was going to overcome him in combat, she would need to use other advantages against him. His bulkiness would limit his speed. With a scrutinizing gaze she tried to size him up while parrying the incessant swing of his weapon. Technique didn’t appear to be something he possessed. Another advantage which might work to her benefit.
Despite her attempts to switch to an offensive stance Aiva was forced to maintain her defense, pushed back, directed by the pure strength of the man she fought. It was an exhausting fight. Her limbs ached, arms heavy from the constant motion, struggling to keep her grip on her sword. She found herself wondering if Cadell felt the same while he battled with Ireni. It was a stalemate. The man’s strength was no match for her speed though that only granted her the ability to block and counter with accuracy, any physical strike she attempted with her hands and feet doing nothing to slow him down while every blow he threw rocked Aiva to her core.
Going in for another lunge Aiva caught sight of what looked like a smile pass over the man’s lips. A hard push came from behind, sending her toppling forward at the man’s feet. In a clatter of metal against wood her sword fell from her hand. Desperately she reached for it, horrified to see the man’s foot slide it further away from her, laughing maniacally at her attempts to get to her feet. Someone else was at her back. They grabbed onto her ankles, binding them with what felt to be a thick rope, her body dragged along the wooden floorboards. She tried to stop the motion, fingernails digging at the wood, slivers sliding underneath the surface of her nails, the pain not registering in her mind over the fear of who held her.
Engrossed in the battle no one seemed to take notice of her. Cadell had been lured away by Ireni. Through her panic Aiva searched the area for him, finding no sign of his presence or Edric’s. She wasn’t sure where her father had gone though she could only assume he was somewhere near the back of the ship helping to deter the pirates from reaching Shaelyn’s hiding place. No one was there to help her. She would have to figure something out on her own.
Her fear rose with every step her captor took. She reached for everything in her path to try and halt their progress forward, her fingers unable to maintain their grip. They were closer to the rail than Aiva realized. The burly man kept close, his hands prying her fingers from the rungs of the rail while his partner tried to lift her onto the gangplank. She couldn’t let them take her onto Ireni’s ship. Struggling against the two men that held her she screamed in hopes of catching the attention of someone. Anyone who might be able to help her. The sound became a shrill yelp at the burly man’s boot connecting with her head.
Twinkling white lights shot across her vision the way they had when Odell struck her at the North Pointe prison, only this time the spots blotted out most of the images around her. Nausea threatened, the feeling of her fingers losing their hold on the rail sending a new wave of fear over her at the realization that she was being taken. Her senses were skewed from the impact of the man’s kick. Arms flailing wildly she tried to lash out, met with nothing but empty air.
She was vaguely aware of the men moving with greater speed. Shaking her head she tried to clear the haze that covered her vision. They were no longer on the Tanispan ship. It took only a brief glimpse of her surroundings to recognize the differences. She was being carried down a flight of steep, rickety wooden stairs into the bowels of the ship. The men laughed while throwing her into what looked to be some kind of cell, the iron bars creating a cage around her, tossed like a ragdoll onto the hard floor. Shackles were placed over her wrists, the cool metal tight and uncomfortable against her skin, preventing her from continuing the aimless flails of her arms. The burly man gave a final blow to her stomach with his foot.
Racked with pain she curled into a ball. She couldn’t breathe. The men were leaving, creaking hinges signaling the door of the iron cage shutting behind them. Fighting through tears she scrambled on her knees to the door, hands gripped around the bars in a desperate attempt to get free. It was locked. “Let me out of here!” she shouted. In her delirium she staggered to her feet, stumbling from one side of the cell to the other. No one was there. No one could hear her. Callum and Gadiel will be nearly finished debilitating the ship and they will give the order to burn it. This ship is going to sink to the bottom of the sea. I’m going to die…
“Someone, help me!” she cried, the sound more frenetic than before. Angrily she threw her weight against the iron bars as if it would weaken their hold. This was her fault. If I hadn’t insisted on fighting… Callum
tried to convince her not to. Why hadn’t she listened?
Because it was important for her to help. It was better to die here with honor than to hide away when she was capable of fighting. But the battle wasn’t lost yet. Someone was sure to come to check on her. Ireni would want to gloat over her victory. There was still time for her to find a way out. It would require perfect timing and a good plan. The question was what that plan was going to be.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Aiva sat in the confines of her cell, listening to the pounding of feet overhead. People were shouting. Whatever was going on, it didn’t sound promising. Someone was coming closer, their footsteps loud, magnified by the echo through the lower deck. One pair of steps at first, then two. Her heart leapt into her throat, recognizing the pain-filled voice that yelled out while being dragged down the stairs. In a rustle of chains Aiva crawled to the door of her cell, peering into the darkness toward the entrance where the noise was coming from.
There in the dim light from above she saw Gadiel’s face come into view, arms bound behind his back, carried along the hall by two men, unfamiliar to Aiva. They came to a stop outside her cell, opening it only long enough to throw Gadiel unceremoniously to the floor, locking it again behind him.
When their eyes met Gadiel gasped, the agony visible in his widened gaze to see Aiva bound in the cell with him. “Aiva, what happened?” he breathed, struggling to sit up without the use of his arms. “You were supposed to stay on the ship – ”
“I did,” she interjected, her discomfort building at the realization that the plan must have failed. Had they gotten Callum also? Were the pirates winning? “Where is Callum? I thought you were with him.”
“I was. We were on our way back to the ship. I was behind Callum when one of the pirates came out of nowhere and dragged me back. I doubt Callum has noticed my absence. It happened pretty fast – but that doesn’t explain how you got here. We need to get you out of this place.”
“Good luck. I’ve been trying to get free for a while now. The bars are solid and the lock is sturdy.”
“Maybe if we both use our weight against it…”
It was worth a try. The rope which bound her ankles hindered her balance, preventing her from taking larger steps. Shuffling along, she made her way over to Gadiel, her shackled hands helping to lift him to his feet. She doubted the effectiveness of the tactic. They were both far from capable of gaining the strength and power which might stand a chance at breaking the hinges on the door. At this point, there was nothing left to lose. She was willing to attempt anything.
Starting at the back of the cell they ran forward, the weight of their bodies slamming hard against the iron bars. The impact jarred them both, sending them tumbling to the floor, unable to catch themselves in their bound state. “That was more humiliating than helpful,” Aiva grumbled, her arm throbbing from where it struck the door. “What are the chances of the others coming for us?”
“At this point? Slim,” Gadiel frowned. “They will focus on placing distance between the ships. If anyone notices us missing, it will be Callum, and likely not until he is attempting to begin the final assault which will inevitably send us to the bottom of the sea. If we are lucky, our absence will be noted before the first rounds are fired.”
Another set of footsteps along the stairs drew them from their conversation, anxious to see who it was. Deep in the back of her mind Aiva knew it wouldn’t be Callum. Some part of her continued to hope. She wasn’t ready to give up. Someone would notice her gone. They had to. Edric would be looking for her once the ship started to pull away. If he couldn’t find her, he was sure to say something to their father.
To her chagrin it was another unfamiliar face that rounded the corner. In his hands he carried a Vor’shai man bearing a doublet similar to that which Aiva wore, his mouth bloody and swollen, body limp in the hands of his captor.
“Jaron,” Gadiel grabbed onto the bars, calling out to the man in the pirate’s arms. The soldier he called Jaron didn’t move, unconscious, barely clinging to life from the wounds he sustained.
Behind them on the stairs Aiva’s heart crashed inside her chest to see Ireni’s unmistakable figure. How had she gotten away? Cadell wouldn’t have let her run so easily. Every worst possible scenario ran through her head. She could see Callum returning to the ship to find his father slain at the hands of this wretched woman. It pained her to think. The General was invincible in her mind. She didn’t want to consider the possibility of him being dead.
“Well, well,” Ireni smiled, pausing in front of Aiva’s cell to stare down at her and Gadiel. The sparkle in her eye was devious. Evil. There wasn’t a decent bone in that woman’s body. Aiva had never seen anyone so completely and utterly rotten. How could Callum have ever thought himself to feel anything for someone like her? “When they told me you were down here, I almost didn’t believe them. Yet, here you are! It’s the best gift my men could have gotten me. Now if only they could have presented your husband gagged and bound as well. The bastard is going to owe me two ships when this is over.”
Aiva wanted to laugh. Although her own predicament was dangerous, she found a mild humor to think that Callum had caused Ireni even the slightest upset. “When he is done you will be at the bottom of the sea with the remains of your precious little boat,” she scoffed.
Baring her teeth with a menacing hiss Ireni slammed her fist against the bars, laughing to see Aiva flinch. Aiva chided herself, frustrated at having allowed Ireni to sense even the slightest weakness. “Not before I string the remains of your pathetic body to the masts for him to see. I’m done playing games. I’ll get more satisfaction out of seeing you tortured and dead than I could out of simply ruining you. But I’m going to have some fun with it. My men are going to want a show.”
The burly man Aiva fought suddenly appeared at the door of the cell, opening it with a crooked grin. Gadiel attempted to place himself between Aiva and the door, pushed aside easily by the man’s meaty hand, unable to stop him from pulling Aiva out of the cell toward an open space near the back of the ship. Throwing her to the ground the man undid the shackles, his knee pressed into her back while working to refasten her wrists behind her. Ireni tossed him a rope which was quickly looped through the chain, the other end thrown over a beam at the ceiling. With a hard tug the man lifted Aiva from the floor by the rope at her wrists, the pain in her shoulders excruciating, her face contorted in anguish, not wanting to scream but unable to keep from crying out.
“Let her go, Ireni!” Gadiel shouted from the cell, the sound of his weight being thrown against the bars echoing through the ship. Ireni laughed, calling for the man to raise Aiva higher.
“I think he wants to join her,” she smirked evilly. “Bring him out. He can watch and wait his turn.”
Aiva’s vision blurred from the pain shooting through her arms. The pressure on her shoulders was more than she was prepared for. It aggravated the old wound she endured while in Carpaen, her right shoulder burning, the joint giving a loud crack as it popped under the strain of her weight. Her screams grew louder, ringing through the confines of the area.
Ireni brought a chair over to where Aiva hung. With a snap of her fingers the man holding Jaron dragged him to the seat, tying him to the wooden back. Gadiel was being carried by the burly pirate, held firm, unable to break free. At his constant struggle the man slammed him against the wall, blood trickling from Gadiel’s nose from the impact, dazed. For a terrifying moment Aiva saw his eyes roll backward in their sockets. He fought against unconsciousness, head dropping forward, the weight seeming too much for his neck in his attempts to lift it again.
“Do you want to know what pirates do for fun?” Ireni asked, almost innocent in her tone while making her way to stand beside Jaron. She held a rope in her hands, leaning to carefully weave it between the fingers on Jaron’s right hand, holding it up for Aiva to see. “We are feared for a reason. Plundering. Murder. But when it comes to our enemies, we prefer to enjoy their de
ath. I like to hear them scream. Beg for mercy. I don’t grant it, of course, but it brings me great pleasure to hear them cry for me to spare them. You’d be surprised the things supposed heroes offer in exchange for their lives. Let’s see what your brave soldier here has to say.”
Gripping the end of the rope tightly in her hand Ireni closed her eyes. Aiva recognized what she attempted, noting the difficulty the task held for her. The internal energy within an Esai was not nearly as strong as that of a full-blooded Vor’shai. It was harder for them to control. The time Ireni spent at sea likely left her with little opportunity to hone the abilities.
It didn’t take much for Ireni to accomplish the minor goal she strove for. To Aiva’s horror she watched the rope burst into flames under Ireni’s focus, the fire working its way quickly toward Jaron’s hand. Aiva tried to look away. She couldn’t bear to watch.
“Fix her eyes!” Ireni shouted to one of the men standing near the rope that held Aiva in place. Instantly Aiva felt a firm grasp tighten around her hair, lifting her head to stare at the chair in front of her where Jaron was seated. Her screams mingled with his, woken from his stupor by the heat of the fire which raced along the rope between his fingers. She wanted to vomit. Never had she seen anything so grotesque. To witness a man tortured in such a way. Aiva was almost grateful that the pain became too much for Jaron, lapsing him into unconsciousness again as the fire began to die away, the flesh around his hand burnt to the bone.
Bile burned the back of her throat at the sight. She wanted to fight against the rope to get away, the pain in her shoulders preventing her from moving at all. Her fingers tingled. Numb from the strain placed on the tendons and nerves. Ireni laughed at the deathly pallor of Aiva’s face.
The Myatheira Chronicles: Volume Two: Beyond the Veil Page 86
