Trial of Chains_Crimson Crossroads_Book One

by Sohan Ahmad

  Most of the Betrayer’s swords had been caught within the blue woman’s trap, but a handful lay scattered throughout the garden. A month of watching would finally be tested. Their movements are sloppy tonight, Cyrus mocked as they crouched within the shadows of blue roses.

  The chance to strike the wall was mere moments away, but out from the distance, Darius emerged, calling out to his men with panicked breaths, “Quintilus, Rodrick, we must make for the tower. Lord Mammon and his guests are behaving strangely.”

  “More so than usual?” Quintilus asked with a snicker.

  “Gods only know,” the captain lamented. “Should they hurt themselves, however, we’ll no doubt take the blame. Now hurry.” And so they did, leaving their posts unmanned.

  A sign from the Goddess. Cyrus could not believe their fortune. He took hold of Katia’s soft hand and rushed toward the crease, throwing weeks of caution to the wind as he sent her first up the wall. Once she cleared the top, he began his climb.

  His steps were sloppy and impatient, kicking debris loose from the crack. Freedom was only inches away, but just as he made his final reach, a force tugged from behind. “I warned the master that you’d try to escape. Foolish boy. Maybe Lord Mammon will let you join your mother in the yard,” Darius said with a wide grin and a growl, nearly yanking the boy off the wall.

  Cyrus’s fingers clawed into stone as deeply as they could, clinging desperately as blood trickled from beneath his nails. Katia heard the commotion from the other side of the wall, but she was too frightened to act, folding her hands in prayer instead. The boy’s grip began to crumble as his terror stared at the bronze dog deep within his smiling eyes of violet. It’s over. I failed, Mother, Cyrus shouted within his mind, shutting his lids tight, until suddenly the weight from his leg collapsed to the sound of a dull thud.

  When his sight returned, the Betrayer’s bronze sword lay shattered against the grass. Behind him stood a hammer and the glimmer of a glass eye against the darkness. “Hurry, smart boy. Climb! Quickly as you can.”

  Chapter 15: Bound by Lies

  Autumn’s second dawn was cool and brisk. The sun struggled to rise, drowning in oceans of stormy gray. “Oh, Marcus, your collar is absolutely darling,” Lucivius moaned, still adrift in bliss. His cheeks blushed an apple’s red and a leg dangled off the ledge of his feather bed as puddles of drool dripped from his rat-toothed chin, but it was time to wake.

  “There is trouble, my lord,” Darius whispered into his chubby ear. Kneeling alongside his bed with a dented bronze casque in hand, the lump from Grimmon’s hammer still throbbed red atop his skull.

  The rat-toothed lord snapped out of his peculiar dream with a stutter, nearly rolling off his plush mat of bundled blue feathers. “Wha . . . Where am I?” he asked, his throat burning like the thick black waters of the great western Sand Sea. “Water!” Lucivius shouted with a wave of his wrist. A starved slave rushed forward with a brass tray of copper cups filled to the brim. Although the cool water slid smoothly down his raspy throat, something else was a bother. “Who are you? Where is my toy?” he asked, still half in a daze, expecting to see Cyrus at his side.

  Darius Lionmane swallowed hard his tattered pride as the Betrayer of Dragons rose up with a growl. “Pardon, my lord, but that is the trouble I speak of. He and the voiceless girl . . .” A cold terror wrenched his heart like a mender’s crank. “They are missing.”

  Master Mammon’s murky green eyes were soon infested by growing red vines. “What do you mean, missing?”

  The bronze captain’s bruised head wilted like a dying branch as the bump continued to thump like a pumping heart. “They slipped past us in the dark. I swear I nearly caught them, my lord, but they had help,” he pleaded, presenting his damaged helmet as proof.

  “What is this?” Lucivius questioned with a repulsed twist of his lips, slapping the bronze hat from his captain’s hands. “Do I look like I care? Why are you still here? Useless sack of meat! Get the hounds and hunt them down. Now!”

  “At once, my lord, I will bring you their heads.”

  Before Darius departed, he was reminded of the leash that tensed around his neck. “Do what you want with the girl, but the boy is mine and mine alone. Fail me again, and your legs shall feed the pigs.”

  Darius swallowed hard the Betrayer’s words that cut deeper than a knife hammered into the spine. “I will not fail you, my lord.”

  While the soldiers gathered in the yard, Lucivius had one card left to play. “Summon the blue bitch.”

  Bracchis ushered Z’hiri up the spiral of The Climb’s ruby tower. Were they caught? Damn it, please be safe. Her fears grew darker with each twisted step, but when the full moon of azure and scattered zircon split open and she saw the master’s face, her heart danced for the first time in twenty years. She kept her eyes and cheeks still as those of a corpse, moving only her lips. “What troubles you, my master?”

  “Lie to me once more, and your tongue shall feed the fires.” His titles, inglorious as they may have been, were well earned. “Two and you shall join it. Where have they gone?”

  “Master, I do not know.” She had thought herself stone, but stone did not tremor so. “I swear it.”

  “Congratulations,” Lucivius said, standing bare skinned with arms raised. “You get to keep your tongue.” He slipped into sleeves of scarlet silk hemmed in white wool, the winged blue cobra stretched across his back. “But I know of your bond with the silent girl. Surely you can surmise her intentions.”

  Thankfully, Cyrus never spoke of such matters. “The girl has been silent for years. What could I know?” she asked, hoping ignorance would be her shield.

  Instead, Lucivius snapped the back of his hand like a whip across her withered yellow cheeks. “Use your brain and think! You are too old to be a fool.”

  Searing red drops oozed from the cold pink slit on her lips. I am ready for far worse, she reminded herself, refusing to yield. “You praise too much, Master. I am old, and I am a fool.”

  “My dogs and hounds gather as we speak,” he said, gripping her blue strands between his chubby fingers, yanking like he would on a mutt’s collar. “Rest assured, they will be found. Aid me, and I can be merciful,” he offered, the slimy pink organ crawling out from beyond his lips across her wrinkled yellow cheeks.

  She shuddered like a leaf in the storm, terror wriggling from the top of her spine to the tips of her toes. Her cringed gaze never left the painted ceiling as her silence persisted. Lord Mammon was an impatient man, quickly discarding the taste of her skin before buckling Z’hiri to her knees with a fist to the gut. “Take the bitch to Grenn. Tell him to be creative.”

  Pushed and prodded like cattle, the blue crone returned down the long spiral of the ivory tower with a concealed smile across her face. Stay strong, sweet girl, the boy will keep you safe. As Bracchis Rayne led her toward the black pits of torment, they laid eyes upon the wave of fangs and bronze that would soon descend upon the escaped children.

  “They look hungry, don’t they?” Bracchis asked with mouth opened wide, revealing rows of bacon-greased teeth. He let off a chuckled grunt, yanking the rusted chain around her neck.

  Run, boy! Her once warm smile froze with dread, wishing that her silent screams would carry across the skies like thunder. Run and never look back.

  Cyrus and Katia had walked all throughout the twilight, avoiding the exposed roads of the Viper’s Tail by way of a narrow path along the rocks and splintered trees of the Slithering Hills. This trail is perfect for the two of us to travel. It’s far too narrow for Lucivius and his dogs to enter, Cyrus believed, but the long night strained their minds with imagined horrors.

  Although few animals made homes in these hills, it was near impossible to rest among the yellow glow of snake eyes in the dark and the hiss of their tongues in the silence. Icy winds swept in from the Glacier Sea along the southern coast, causing their teeth to chatter like a baby’s rattle. “We will freeze if we stop,” Cyrus reminded her throughout th
e dark trek, but Katia could no longer continue, the sun shone and serpents slept.

  They lacked the luxury of furs, so they huddled close to stay warm. She slumbered as still as a summer rose, too weary to worry about the difficulties they might yet face. Cyrus, however, hardly slept. I must keep her safe, but who knows when they will be upon us. He feared their peaceful trek along the sloped dirt would soon meet the clamor of marching greaves and snarling hounds. Should I wake her?

  Suddenly, Katia began to mumble in her sleep. These were the first words he had ever heard from her. “What should I do once I’m free?” she muttered.

  Her voice is soft and warm like angel’s breath, Cyrus thought as it melted the shiver on his bones.

  She spoke again as if her imagined friend had answered. “Do you think Cyrus will let me stay with him?”

  Is she speaking to Z’hiri in her dreams? He wondered, unaware she had such worries. Cyrus squeezed her closer with a whisper, “I’ll never leave you.”

  “Cyrus?” she asked with a gentle sigh.

  Did she heard me? he asked himself as her eyes blinked open to see his gazing back at her. Her long curls of scarlet black danced in the morning breeze. So beautiful. His own feelings startled him backward. “Apologies, Katia, I didn’t mean to wake you. It’s just…I’ve never heard you speak before.”

  “Has it been so long?” she asked, pressing her finger around her lips in equal disbelief. “I pray it didn’t disgust you.”

  “No, never,” he replied, scrambling to dispel her concerns. How could she think such a thing? “Your voice is wonderful. I only wish I heard it sooner.”

  Katia smiled. “You’re very kind Cyrus, not like them.” Suddenly, her arms wrapped around her slender shoulders like a suit of armor as if a memory chilled her to the bone. “I told myself that if I didn’t scream, the pain wouldn’t be real, but I was wrong. It was always real.”

  “This may not be the dream you wished for,” Cyrus said, placing a hand on hers. So soft. The touch was warm like the morning sun’s first glow upon the skin. “But I promise that the nightmare is over. You’re free now.”

  “Thank you.” They were words she needed to hear as she pressed her chilled cheeks against the fire of his palm. “I know I should’ve said sooner, but I was too afraid to believe. You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met. Brave as you are kind. I admired you since the day I first scrubbed your wounds in the crypts. No one had ever spoken to Grenn like that and lived. You’re a miracle from the Divine Serpent.”

  Katia looked up to bathe in his acknowledgment, but it seemed her passionate praise was lost on the boy. How can you say that when I left so many behind?

  “Forgive my rambling,” she said, before reminding herself, “Z’hiri always knew what I wished to say before I did.”

  A pride half-stained with shame swelled in his breast. “Your words are too kind, but she is the true hero. Without her sacrifice, I may have never had the pleasure of your rambling.”

  It struck her just then. “Do you think we will ever see her again?”

  Cyrus was kind, too kind at times. Father would have no doubt said. “She is strong and stubborn. Believe in her like she believed in us,” he answered, hoping the lie would sweeten the sour truth. “For now, we need rest. We may not have the chance again.”

  Katia knew he was right, but she was a curious girl. “How far can two slaves run before they have truly escaped?”

  He had nearly forgotten. “That’s right, I never told you. If we follow the Slithering Hills to their end, the holy palace can be reached by nightfall.”

  Even before her enslavement, she had never seen the capital, let alone the ancient sanctuary of Elijah. “The Silent Cathedral?” she asked in dismay, nearly as frightened as she was honored by the idea of stepping on its sacred soil. “My mother and father once told me it was built by the Divine Serpent herself, that it was the grandest structure ever made. Do you think His Holiness would grant us shelter?”

  Should I tell her the truth? he pondered for a moment before answering. “I served the holy house of Elijah my entire life. The Cardinal is fair and the prince is . . . he was like a brother to me. Trust in them.”

  “I trust you, Cyrus.” Not an easy task for a girl who had shared her voice with fewer people than there were fingers on a hand. “If you say it, then I will believe it.”

  Darkness crept through the skies like a silent killer, stabbing the sun in its back. A swarm of orange danced through the bitter night like a shadow made of fire, starving for young blood. It moved swift as a spearfish through the ocean of black, blanketing the Viper’s Tail in its bronze glow. The hounds snarled and bayed with wet, white foam flying from their mouths as the scent grew closer. Eventually, they found themselves two hours’ ride from the holy gates of the palace, but Darius Lionmane realized the goal of his prey later than he should have, later than his master would forgive. “Faster! We cannot let them reach the palace.”

  Cyrus and his fellow fugitive had finally cleared the uneven soil of the hills that slithered through green and rock; his father’s stronghold lay just beyond the horizon. However, her steps began to drag with the fatigue born of an empty belly. Z’hiri could have made that food and water last for an entire day? The boy questioned as what little rations they carried had vanished before daybreak, and the song of copper hooves banging across the Earthly Mother soon echoed through the pitch like battle drums. “Katia, I know you ache and hunger,” he said, pointing toward their salvation, “but if we don’t run with all we have, we’ll be dead or worse.”

  Her frail little mouth sweat with a yearning for the tiniest scrap of bread and the pink of her lips withered white with thirst. “I won’t let you down Cyrus, not again.” Freedom was the feast she craved most.

  The hours faded like a graybeard’s memories, slowly and with great fear. Heavy gulps of black chill tightened every fiber of the girl’s slender legs as she dragged her feet through the dirt like an ax too heavy in the head. A few moments later, a voice shot out from the distance at their backs, “Captain Darius, I see them! They’re almost to the palace.”

  We’ve come too far. Cyrus would not yield without giving all that was within him. He knelt down in front of his ragged comrade. “Quickly, on my back.” Her weight forced his steps into crooked lines, and with each passing second, the bronze fist of fire burned closer and hotter. They could feel the fangs of each growl scraping against their necks as foul canine breath sailed into their gasping lungs. After running for so long, the boy collapsed, wheezing viciously in front of sealed columns of iron that stretched twenty feet above the sanctified soil. “Open the gates, I beg you!” he yelled with what little strength he had left.

  Two sentries were posted atop the wall, their tabards washed in white as the royal red viper coiled in the center. Old scarlet steel, nearly the color of rust, painted them from head to toe as tall white shields, trimmed in red, bore the southern sigil of viper fangs against feathered throat in one hand and iron pikes, twice their height, stood in the other. “Children?” they chuckled in unison, “go home to your mommy, boy.” The scarlet knights could not make out the boy’s face, ignorant of his identity.

  Katia was too frightened to speak as Cyrus continued to beg, “Please, we need your help. You must let us pass.”

  In the distance, the sentries witnessed the swarm blazing through the twilight. They knew his words to be true, but their orders were strict. “Sorry, boy, but we cannot open the gates for anyone at this hour. It is His Holiness’s command.”

  Every second brought the devil’s minions closer. He could do nothing but shout and pray. Someone please hear me. Marcus, Archonis, Father, anyone! However, the Cathedral was silent with slumber. Despair ripped at the boy like eagle claws; his heart thundering like stampeding horses as his mind raced in search of a miracle. The hunters’ noose tightened. It’s over. What else could I have done, Mother? he asked himself, turning to shield the withered flower that lay collapsed at his feet. De
ath’s icy fingers tapped murderously on their milky skin, slowly peeling the courage from their bones. But just then, the sealed wall of iron ascended like a gaping mouth to swallow them whole.

  A minute too late, Darius and his brood were forced to surrender their pursuit. “Return to The Climb!” the bronze captain commanded, dreading the sound of his words more than any spear atop the ramparts, praying for mercy from a merciless man as their chargers and hounds retreated into the dark.

  Inside the hallowed halls, two scarlet knights escorted Cyrus and Katia to the Cardinal’s personal library. I was never allowed here before. Why now? the boy wondered as a handful of dimly lit candles hissed yellow into the gray chamber. Wooden shelves circled around the room, creating a maze of tomes and scrolls, both ancient and new. At the center of the maze lay a simple table carved of red oak, bathing in lantern light. There were two chairs in front of them, and a third had its back to a man in the shadow. “Sit, Katia, it’s safe,” Cyrus said.

  Does he know this man? she wondered. The air between him and the shadow was thick, so palpable she thought she could stab it with her finger.

  Minutes passed, and the shadow did nothing. Why won’t he say anything? Cyrus wondered, rising from his chair with his patience all, but gone.

  “Before the prince was born,” the man finally spoke. “I would spend hours hidden away within this catacomb of history. I have read nearly every page that gathers dust within these shelves, and yet, no story true or false ever spoke of a boy as bold as you.” The shadow turned to reveal locks of auburn ash hanging above a pair of stern yellow eyes as a cup of wine swirled within the man’s grasp. “What is your name, girl?” he asked the frail little mouse. “From where do you hail?”

  Emerald eyes strained to see him in the dim glow, and so he revealed himself to her. “I beg forgiveness, Your Holiness,” she pleaded, folding onto her knees at the sight of four bronze snakes against his crown.