Love and Sacrifice: Book Two of the Prophecy Series

by Tove Foss Ford

  Menders sighed. He knew Lord Muran, had been at the Military Academy in the same class, though Muran had gone through regular military training while Menders was in Special Services. He’d been a good-natured, not overly bright youth. He had to be going through all the hells now.

  “The Queen is sober, shocked into it by what happened. She has Aidelia under a continual watch.”

  Kaymar looked elated. Menders knew Kaymar had always hoped the Throne would come to Katrin. Many of Menders’ Men did, but to Menders the very idea was laden with doom. Katrin did not wish to be Queen of Mordania – ever.

  ***

  Menders rose and paced around the room again.

  Katrin had been gone for hours. He had not been told where she was, only that she was with her mother, the Queen.

  A Palace Guard was posted in the corridor or Menders would have gone looking for her hours ago. From time to time he could hear outbursts of revelry and hoped that was where Katrin was.

  They had traveled to Erdahn with Katrin not knowing about Bartan’s letter and the possibility of the succession being changed. Menders had eaten himself alive over having lied to her, but the Queen could fall back into her drinking and forget everything preceeding her latest binge. It had happened many times. He had no wish to alarm Katrin only to arrive in Erdahn to find the plan had been abandoned.

  So Katrin had been calm at their arrival. She was beautifully dressed and turned many a head as she, Menders, Hemmett and Kaymar were escorted into the Palace. Menders and Katrin were shown into a commodious room, while Hemmett was told to report to the Commander of the Guard. Kaymar went off on his own to talk to Bartan.

  Menders was startled but not alarmed when he was summoned to speak to the Queen’s Comptroller about The Shadows’ operation and accounts. The messenger conveying the request assured him it was simply a formality requested by Her Majesty. Considering Katrin was surrounded by Palace Guards, who seemed most accommodating and even friendly, he’d gone without any show of resistance.

  When he’d been returned to the room, Katrin was gone and a lone Guard was standing at the door.

  “The Princess has been summoned to speak with and spend some time with her mother, Her Majesty the Queen,” the Guard said evenly to Menders. “You are to wait here for her return.”

  Menders’ apprehension had grown as more and more time slipped by. There was no sign of Kaymar, or Hemmett. There was no sign of Katrin returning. Menders even walked out into the hall a time or two to, but the Guard politely asked that he not stray any further, lest he not be there when Katrin returned.

  Now it had been hours.

  ***

  “Princess Katrin, the Queen bids you attend her.”

  Katrin was startled and looked up. She was alone. Menders and Hemmett had been called away and Kaymar was at Thoren Bartan’s apartment.

  The speaker was the Queen’s Chamberlain. She recognized him from her visit to the Palace nine years before. He was an unusual looking man, obviously Surytamian.

  “May I wait for my Head of Household to return so he may accompany me?” Katrin asked politely, not wanting to go anywhere in the Palace without Menders.

  “It is imperative you attend Her Majesty immediately,” the man said, his expression unchanging.

  Katrin rose, squelching apprehension, knowing she had no choice but to obey. She was glad she hadn’t eaten any of the food they’d brought along, remembering her mother’s stench from the last time. An empty stomach would make it easier to hold her gorge.

  She was shown into the room where she had been presented to the Queen when she was eleven. The Queen was there, looking eerily unchanged, wearing the massive armored, bejeweled gown and the hideous, false pointed teeth. Katrin curtseyed properly and was told to rise immediately. To her amazement, her mother walked over to her, obviously hampered by the weight of the gown.

  The Queen looked Katrin up and down, then nodded curtly.

  “I wished to see you alone,” she hissed through the teeth. “Your guardian has seen to it that you’ve turned out… very well.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  The Queen clanked away across the floor and then turned back to Katrin.

  “I am changing the Line of Succession and will name you my Heiress,” she said abruptly. “Your sister is not fit to inherit.”

  Katrin blinked and then felt a surge of icy horror. No. No!

  “As a future Queen of Mordania, it is necessary for you to undergo the Ritual of Suspension,” the Queen went on. “You may not refuse. You must not show fear or pain throughout the Ritual. It is painful and you must bear it for as long as you can before asking to be released. I have been through it, as my mother was before me, as all Queens of Mordania have been since the time of Morghenna the Wise.”

  Katrin almost opened her mouth and refused – but she could not refuse. She was alone. They had her alone, without Menders or Hemmett. Even if she resisted, she could tell by the tone of her mother’s voice that they would do this thing to her anyway.

  “You will survive,” her mother said more quietly. “Drink this. It will help deaden most of the pain.”

  She held out a vial. Katrin walked forward on trembling legs and took it. She removed the stopper and sniffed, fearful it might be poisoned, not willing to drink without checking, even if it had been given her by the Queen.

  Ramplane. She knew the odor well.

  Her mother smiled and Katrin saw that behind the teeth and the tragic ravages of years of drinking, it was a lovely smile.

  “Smart girl,” she said. “Trust no-one. I need an Heiress who is sane – and smart. Drink it, my daughter, and let us get this over with.”

  ***

  Katrin hung, suspended.

  The ramplane had saved her the worst of the intial pain, but it was beginning to wear off.

  She had been led to a room far from the Throne Room and told to remove her clothing. Two women had moved forward to assist her. She became aware that she was undressing for an audience – a group of people were standing in the shadows, apparently witnesses to whatever was about to happen. It was all she could do to let herself be stripped in front of them. Then as the ramplane took effect and buoyed her up, she began not to care.

  She’d been told to lie on a table and obeyed, her limbs going numb, the usual effect of ramplane. Then her mother approached the table and stood beside her.

  “Now begins the Trial by Suspension,” she stated. She picked up an iron cuff and clamped it around Katrin’s left wrist. It fit tightly, but not painfully so. Then there was a sharp jab of pain as Katrin realised her mother had closed the cuff by forcing a sharpened metal rod through the hasp, skewering her wrist from one side to another. Katrin could feel the metal scrape the bones of her arm as it passed between them and realied that it was hot, cauterizing as it passed through her flesh.

  Even ramplane couldn’t deaden all of the pain, but she showed no sign, using the Thrun discipline Menders had taught her years ago when her arm was badly broken. It didn’t take pain away but it allowed her not to mind it.

  Her mother clamped two more cuffs on her left arm, below the elbow and between elbow and shoulder. The process was repeated on her right arm, and then on her legs. Then, to Katrin’s horror, her mother shoved two curved metal rods under her collarbone. Katrin nearly cried out, only to have her mother’s aqua eyes look quickly into hers, her expression a combination of desperation and severity. Katrin breathed in deeply and braced against the pain, trying to separate her mind from what was happening to her body.

  There were more and more punctures, in her thighs, her belly, the soft flesh of her arms. A belt was wrapped around her waist and skewered into the flesh of her sides. Two more rods were shoved under her pectoral muscles. At this point, she was so exhausted that she lay limply and did not react at all. Each puncture was just one more pain to add to the totality of pain.

  Oh Menders, she thought. You’ll break your heart over this. This is madness.
I don’t want to be Queen! How does torturing someone make a Queen?

  She’d been skewered thirty-two times when she saw her mother attaching the cuffs and metal rods to cables hanging from large, rusted iron hooks in the ceiling.

  A leather strap was looped around her head. The pain became immense as someone operated a mechanism that lifted her free of the table by the cables. She was lifted high into the air, her limbs stretching agonizingly. The pull on her pectoral muscles was terrible. If the leather strap hadn’t been around her head to keep it from lolling back helplessly, she would not have been able to breathe.

  Katrin was ready to scream for them to let her down as the agony of clenching muscles and tormented flesh increased a thousandfold. If she could have thrashed in panic, she would have, but the insane apparatus she was suspended from had her drawn rigid. The only movement she could achieve consisted of rolling her eyes and breathing.

  Suddenly she heard Menders’ voice in her mind, teaching her how to control her body, to tense and relax different muscle groups if she was in a situation where she had to stand or kneel for long periods of time, preparing her for possible Court appearances.

  “You can stay in one position and consistently rest one set of muscles after another, so you don’t become exhausted,” Menders had said, showing her the muscle groups he meant. “It’s the same as when you’re dancing. You only tense the muscles you need to use, not your entire body. Try relaxing one leg while letting the other take your weight, without shifting noticeably. Yes, that’s it! Good, my little princess. Now keep changing the groups of muscles that hold you in position. You’ll be able to stand for a very long time without much discomfort if you learn how to do this.”

  The intense memory made it possible for Katrin to think. She began to explore what would ease the stress on her pectoral muscles. She deliberately relaxed as much as she could, easing some of the pain, keeping her mind occupied.

  She could bear this for a while. She could keep control. Soon this would end and she could go home to The Shadows. Think of The Shadows. Breathe, relax, tense another set of muscles, relax others – think of The Shadows. Breathe, relax…

  She lost track of time but knew she’d been suspended for quite a while. The witnesses were beginning to murmur to each other. There was movement in the room. Perhaps they were going to take her down now and she could go home to The Shadows.

  “Mother… won’t you have some wine?”

  Katrin tensed and tried to turn her head to see the Queen. She knew that voice!

  Aidelia.

  “It’s the best, Mother. After all, shouldn’t you celebrate this occasion? One glass won’t make a difference and you do allow yourself a bottle a day now that you’ve cut down so much. This glass can count against that bottle. No harm done.” Aidelia’s voice was honeyed and reasonable, but Katrin could hear the madness thrumming underneath the surface.

  “No,” she whispered. She wanted to shout it, but she couldn’t. Her throat was swollen. “No.”

  “I have prepared a party for us all,” Aidelia was saying. “There is more wine there, Mother. This is an auspicious day! You mustn’t let it pass without celebration. Have some more. Here I’ll pour it. Why you must be terribly thirsty to drink that fast, Mother! Come, you need to rest. I can arrange for Katrin to be taken down. Leave me the people who know how this thing works. Don’t you want more wine? Yes, I thought you would. In the Great Hall, there’s a table all spread there. Katrin and I will join you as soon as she’s been taken down and given a chance to rest.”

  Katrin could hear people leaving the room. She tried desperately to see what was happening.

  She felt herself being lowered, felt the blessed relief as the tension was released, as she reached the table and was no longer suspended. At least Aidelia wasn’t alone with her. Other people were still there. It was over, thank the gods. She could go home to The Shadows now.

  “Leave us!” Aidelia’s voice rasped harshly and Katrin heard rapid footsteps. Then her vison was entirely filled by Aidelia’s deathly pale face, framed by greasy red hair. Her breath was so foul that Katrin already weakened by the Ritual of Suspension, nearly fainted.

  “You will never be Queen,” Aidelia snarled viciously. “Our mother is weak but I am strong! I can fool her! She’s already fooled, out there drinking like a pig. You will be dead before this day is over and it will look as if it is her fault for going away and drinking, leaving you hanging from the ceiling like a spider.”

  “Please,” Katrin whispered.

  “Oh yes, beg, I like to hear it,” Aidelia said companionably, taking up one of the long metal rods that hadn’t been used. She contemplated it and then spat in her hand, wiped the spittle up and down the rod and then pushed it slowly through one of Katrin’s breasts. “How was that? Going to cry?” She picked up another rod and spat on it, forcing it though the other breast. Katrin shuddered in agony, but refused to cry out and give this perverted woman any more pleasure than she was already garnering from her sadism.

  Aidelia continued picking up the rods, spitting on them and forcing them through Katrin’s flesh. Katrin bit her lips and tongue, but did not cry out. Aidelia looked at her closely, her expression a combination of arousal and insane glee.

  “Think you’re so strong, country cow?” she hissed. “Wait until you’ve been a spider a while longer, while I keep our stupid mother swilling down her beloved wine!”

  Katrin spat in Aidelia’s face.

  “You’ll be sorry for that,” Aidelia growled. She ran to the suspension mechanism and hauled with all her strength, pulling Katrin higher than she was before. She fastened the rope off with a jerk that vibrated through Katrin in a spear of agony.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” Aidelia said, coming back to her. “I forgot to take your halter off, cow!”

  With that, she reached up and released the leather strap that supported Katrin’s head. She ran from the room.

  Katrin’s head, unsupported, began to sag toward the floor, cutting off her breath.

  ***

  Menders was going mad. It had been hours since he’d seen Katrin. It was obvious the Guard at the door was meant to keep him here. There was no sign of Hemmett or Kaymar.

  Gods, where was she? No word had been left. He’d ransacked the room to see if she’d left a note or any indication, even a symbol scratched on the wall. There was nothing to indicate that Katrin had been there other than the book she’d been reading lying open on the bed.

  Suddenly fast, light footsteps came unevenly toward the room, accompanied by gasping exhalations.

  “Is the gentleman with the Princess here?” a woman’s voice wheezed outside the door.

  Menders was out of the room, face to face with a small, elderly woman dressed as a domestic servant. She was shivering with effort and breathing as if she was about to expire.

  He felt the Guard step up behind him. A moment later the Guard realized Menders’ knife was pressing against his throat.

  “Sir! The Princess – they’ve hung her up! Hung her up and I hadn’t the strength to get her down! She’s breathing but very slow and her head falling back cuts it off. Hurry sir, please hurry!” The old woman had found her voice.

  “Show me!” Menders saw the Guard was not going to do anything but walk slowly away, a wise man who was still alive.

  The old woman grabbed Menders’ arm and started down the hall. Menders rapidly outpaced her, hauling her along as she gasped out where to turn.

  ***

  Wake! You must fight! Daughter of Mordania! Fight! You must survive! Wake! Wake!

  The Queens spoke again. Katrin forced her head up once more. She could barely do it now. It had been an eternity. Sometimes she had been unconscious, but each time she was brought back by the voices of the Queens.

  She had twisted and turned in the evil harness so that her head didn’t loll back uncontrollably. Her pectoral muscles were being pulled through her skin because of her movements, as were muscles in her
arms and legs, but at least she could change the amount of pressure on her windpipe because of the bit of mobility she had gained by maiming herself.

  Keep moving! Fight! Breathe! You must endure, as we did! Struggle – don’t give in! Do not let your sister win! Wake!

  Katrin breathed as deeply as she could. If she lost consciousness again her head would fall back and Every time she’d been unable to draw breath, she had awakened with a start as the voices swelled and commanded – but the next time might be the time she didn’t wake.

  Someone had to come. Someone had to come soon – except that she knew that Aidelia was probably doing something to keep it from happening, keeping the Queen plied with drink, telling everyone she’d taken Katrin down and seen her to bed for a rest. People would be afraid of Aidelia. They wouldn’t question her.

  Menders, she thought. Please help me. Where are you?

  You must fight! Eyes open! Breathe! Your sister must not win! Wake! Wake! WAKE!

  Katrin’s muscles were shaking. She fought, but couldn’t keep them tensed any longer. Her head fell back and everything went dark.

  ***

  The old woman panted and wheezed beside Menders, who was practically carrying her along.

  “Here, this corridor,” she gasped. “The open door.”

  He released her and raced forward, his impetus driving him into the side of the open doorway, knocking the breath out of him. For a moment he couldn’t see as the blood roared in his ears. Then his vision cleared.

  “No!”

  The scream he couldn’t be his own, but he felt the agony in his throat. He coughed violently, blood splashing from his mouth.

  Katrin, his perfect golden child, hanging from a spiderweb woven by demons from the hells, suspended from iron hooks in the ceiling, her head fallen back, unconscious, her beautiful hair hanging to the floor, draggled with blood. Naked, helpless, tortured, destroyed – dead.