Several men had already left the inn but the mercenaries she sought were not among them. She tensed as three men staggered from the inn. Was one of them bald?
The men turned right and lurched into the street, their heels snapping on the cobbles. They were beyond drunk, and held each other upright. Alecia followed on the opposite side of the street, sticking to the shadows, her eyes glued to the men, heart pounding in her chest.
They passed a window where light spilled onto the street and she glimpsed a bald head and bushy beard. At least one of the three was a target, but she had to see if the others were as well. She continued on, her soft boots making no sound. The man furthest along the road tripped and pulled his companions down. Alecia saw the glint of a red stone as the man in the centre climbed to his feet and helped his friends up. The third man looked thin and exceptionally tall to her. It had to be them.
She slipped around the corner into the first alley she came to and pulled three arrows from her quiver. She stuck two head first into the dirt and nocked and drew the third. The men were dusting each other off and laughing over their stumble. She sighted on the chest of the tallest man, but as she prepared to loose the arrow, the clatter of hooves rang in the street. Alecia withdrew further into the shadows as a troop of her father’s soldiers trotted into view.
“Who goes there?” The leader shoved a flaming brand out to illuminate the faces of the three. “Ah, Raoult and your friends from the Lion. I would’ve thought you’d take more care, after the murders of those mercenaries last week.” The torch allowed Alecia to be certain these were the three she targeted.
“We don’t fear death, Sergeant,” said the blond man with the ruby.
“Get to your homes and don’t tarry, Raoult,” the sergeant said, as he led his men past and up the street.
Alecia glared at the soldiers as they trotted out of sight, afraid she would not get another opportunity to launch her attack. Contrary to Raoult’s words the men peered around, seeming suddenly uneasy. Then Raoult slapped the bald one on the back.
“Do not fear, Dom, all will be well,” he said. “Let’s call on Silvandra. She’ll take our minds from this grisly business.” The other two laughed and they continued on up the street.
Alecia drew a deep breath. She could do this. These outlaws must be removed from Brightcastle Town before they raped this Silvandra, or worse.
She crept onto the street again and followed, half expecting to be accosted by some night prowler. Twice she thought she heard the clatter of the soldiers returning. No one came. Even drunk, the men moved too quickly for her to take aim in the darkness. Finally, they came to a crossroads and started down an alley. Alecia crossed the street and crouched in the deep shadow of a rain barrel. She rested for a moment against the wall, willing her heart to slow, her trembling to still. It was no good, she could not achieve the calm she desired. Ninny! You do not matter! Alecia turned her attention to her weapons, preparing the bow and arrows as before.
The three men continued along the alley and pounded on a door halfway along. After some moments, the door swung outwards. A woman stood there in corset and knickers, with a flimsy robe draped across her shoulders. Alecia stifled a gasp as Raoult pulled the woman roughly against him. He planted his lips on hers and his free hand grasped one of the whore’s breasts. The woman struggled but Raoult’s two friends stepped forward and grabbed each of the woman’s arms.
Alecia realized her hand was at her mouth and her eyes glued to the scene. She took hold of herself, knelt and nocked her first arrow. She aimed at the one called Dom, forcing her breath to slow. Good enough! Her first arrow took him in the back and her next slammed into the neck of the tall man. The bloodcurdling screams of the whore tore at Alecia but she had the third arrow nocked before Raoult realized what had happened. When he saw his friends dead at his feet, Raoult threw the woman against her doorway and charged back up the alley.
Alecia crouched, paralysed as the mercenary thundered towards her. She had no plan for this! With trembling hands, she dragged the bowstring to her ear, sighted and released her third arrow. In a heartbeat, Raoult was upon her. The arrow had taken him in the right shoulder but his left fist glanced across her cheek and pain crashed into her skull. Blinking back the dark waves of fog that seeped into her brain, Alecia struggled to fend off the clumsy blows that Raoult rained down on her. She wriggled out from under him and began to crawl away, but the blond man grasped her foot and hauled her back, his eyes striking a chill through her.
“Kill me, would you lad?” Raoult’s fingers closed around Alecia’s throat and squeezed. Her air supply was abruptly cut off and agony rocketed through her as her windpipe was crushed. The mercenary’s smile slowly widened as she gasped and struggled for air, her fingernails clawing at his hands, desperately seeking a weakness that would save her. Raoult’s face dimmed and Alecia slipped away, her last thought for Vard and the goodbye she had never uttered.
Vard strode down the darkened hall of the guardhouse, his mood sombre and his thoughts on the princess. Why couldn’t he concentrate on the matter at hand? He had been called from his bed in the soldiers’ barracks to interview a suspect. He should be glad there had been a development in the mercenary killings, but his chest and shoulder ached and the hour was late. No matter. His eyes would be enough to have the suspect spilling his guts and then he could return for a much-needed rest.
The command sergeant who had summoned him stopped before a heavy wooden door bound by thick bands of iron. He raised the plank that secured the door and swung it outwards into the passage. The dark cell stank of wet straw, mould and mice. Vard’s eyes went immediately to the form huddled in the corner.
“The lad was almost dead when we came upon them,” the sergeant said. “I haven’t had much from him since he woke up. Either he’s scared witless or the strangling has done permanent harm.” The man crossed the cell and lit the brand that sat in the bracket opposite the door. Then he gave the prisoner a kick on the shoulder. “See that you cooperate and it may be a quick death for you instead of crucifixion, boy.” The captive whimpered and curled tighter into a ball.
“Leave us,” Vard said.
“I’ll be in the guardroom,” the sergeant said as he left the cell.
Vard stared at the pathetic figure in the straw. The lad looked like the boy whom Vard had rescued from the mercenary. It seemed so long ago. Vague memories of the second mercenary death told him the prisoner was also a match for that killer. A faint smell of lavender came to him and he nodded. It made no sense that a lad would use perfume, but it fit with the fragrance he remembered. Now the boy had been accused of killing two more mercenaries and wounding another. He didn’t seem capable of it.
“Look at me, lad,” Vard said. “I think we’ve met before.”
Vard’s words only caused the boy to curl tighter into a ball.
“You’ve led me a merry chase and now it’s time to put all to rights. You must pay for your deeds.”
The figure in the straw raised a battered face. “My deeds!” the lad spat. “What of the foul deeds of those men!”
The vehement response shocked Vard. He knelt in the straw and peered at the prisoner. What had Hetty said? That the prince wouldn’t thank him for finding the killer? “Who are you?”
The boy scrambled back against the stone wall, his eyes on the dirty straw. The fire had left him.
“I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me,” Vard said.
The lad hunched his head further down into his hood and Vard lost patience. This was too much after being dragged from his bed. He reached over, grasped the hood and reefed it off the convict’s head. Vard stared as long blonde hair tumbled down. “Princess!”
Alecia looked up at him her eyes huge in her dirty face.
How had he not guessed? All this time, the ‘lad’ had been right under his nose. His gaze took in the ugly bruises around her right eye and on her neck, and his heart lurched. She had almost been killed this night! But for
the proximity of the sergeant’s patrol, the princess would lie dead in an alley.
Vard reached out a hand to touch the bruise at Alecia’s eye. She flinched at his contact.
“There is nothing you can do for me, Captain. Get up and walk away. I will face the consequences of my actions, knowing I have avenged Jorge’s death. You will tell his parents that I have killed the murderers.”
“You’re making no sense. I can’t leave you here. Tell the duty sergeant who you are. Your father won’t allow you to hang for your crimes.”
“Crucifixion is the sentence for murder. I accept it gladly, rather than the life sentence I already face.”
“What life sentence?”
“What would you call it?” Her pupils were deep black pools and her fragile form trembled. Vard longed to reach out and draw her into his embrace. “Soon I will belong to Lord Finus. I already do. He paws me like a village whore. I would rather die than let him take me. I would already be dead if my plan for tonight had gone as it should.”
Vard drew a sharp breath. “You wished to die in the attempt on the mercenaries?”
“And now I must suffer crucifixion. I cannot allow my father to find out. Better that I just disappear.”
“Princess, you’re not thinking. You can’t keep up the charade through your trial, no matter how short it is. You must reveal your identity.”
“And what then? My father will have to choose between enforcing my sentence and allowing me to walk free. His people will hate him, no matter his decision.”
“His people already hate him, Princess. He’s a bad ruler.”
She remained silent while Vard’s mind worked furiously to construct a solution. “I can’t allow you to be punished for this,” he said. “I’ll go to the prince and confess to the killing.”
Alecia surged to her knees and gripped his arms. “No, you must not do that. He will see you dead. He will somehow blame you for all the crimes.”
“And you wish to protect this man?”
“He is my father,” she whispered.
As Vard crushed Alecia to his chest, her body shook as though she had a fever. He closed his eyes, willing her pain and fear away and finding an answering terror in his own soul. How had it come to this? How was he to haul her back from this precipice?
She pulled back, her eyes full of a new dread. “Take your hands from me. I do not know what you are but you are not human.”
Vard reeled as if she had thrown icy water over him. Slowly he let her go. “I don’t care what you think of me,” he said. “I won’t allow you to carry this charade to its conclusion.” He bent and gripped her upper arms and hauled her to her feet. “Cover your head.”
Alecia’s eyes contained more panic than he’d ever seen. Was she truly that frightened of him? His lip curled at the thought that he had ever imagined his life could be twined with hers. And he had, after the kiss they had shared and the moment in her chamber. He bent and retrieved her cap and hood from the straw and shoved them at her.
As if in a trance, Alecia fixed her hair, placed the cap on her head and drew the hood over the top. “Why did you protect me after the first mercenary died?”
Vard stared. He’d never known anything of this woman. “Instinct, the need to protect. I knew there had to be more to the attack.”
“What do you mean by instinct?”
“I told you yesterday. At the very core of my being is the instinct of protection. I can’t ignore that impulse when it strikes me. That day, I changed the details of the incident to protect you, even though I didn’t know why at the time.”
Alecia stared up at him, her scent confused and uncertain but less fearful than it had been.
He couldn’t afford to hope. “Are you ready?”
“Tell me what you intend,” she said. “I do not like the look in your eye.” The words were defiant but the wobble at the end told the lie.
“You will follow me from this cell and back to the guardroom. Stay behind me so that the guards don’t see you. If I say run, you’ll do so and return to your father.”
Alecia lifted her chin. “I will not.”
Vard knew the stubbornness of the princess. This had to be good. “If I ever meant anything to you, do as I say. I’ll hold the guards off as long as I can. I may pay with my life and am content to do this, but you must live. The kingdom needs you to be a force for good. Let that sustain you in the darkest times.”
Vard paused to judge the effect of his words. Her eyes dropped to his mouth and she swayed towards him but then she stiffened and nodded. “It shall be as you say.”
Vard pulled her to the door. “The passage is clear. Follow me.”
He swept into the darkened hallway, keeping his cloak spread to provide more cover for her.
Alecia knew his scheme could not possibly fool the guards. They would see her and stop the escape. They could both die this night. Why hadn’t she told him she loved him? He needed to know. Now it was too late. Vard swept along in front of her, his movements as graceful as a leopard, as dangerous as a wolf.
She struggled to keep up, her breath coming in gasps from her damaged throat. In moments, they reached the guardroom at the end of the passage and Vard strode in.
The duty sergeant sat at a sturdy wooden table, sharpening his knife on a stone. He looked up as Vard approached him. “Did the lad reveal anything, Captain?” His eyes widened as he caught sight of Alecia and he stood, his hand going to his sword. “Why have you removed the prisoner from his cell?”
“I thought to take him to another chamber,” Vard said. “Surely you’ve one with… implements?”
The sergeant’s eyebrows rose. “Torture has not yet been part of my duties. The lad will be questioned in his cell and nowhere else. The prince was very clear about that.”
“Who’s in charge of this investigation, man?” Vard said, his voice thick with menace. “Let me pass or you’ll pay the cost.”
“I’ve waited for the day I could test my skill against you.” The sergeant’s sword hissed from its scabbard. “The lad returns to his cell.” He moved from behind the table, the tip of his blade pointed at Vard. Alecia moved away from Vard to give him room to fight then froze as the sergeant’s eyes swung to her.
“Run, lad!” Vard said and hurled himself at the sergeant. Swords rang as the two opponents came together. Vard launched a blistering attack but he seemed stiff, his usual deadly grace absent. The sergeant easily met the assault and then countered with one of his own. To Alecia’s eyes, Vard looked hard-pressed to hold off the attack. She had promised she would run but instead watched in horror as the sergeant forced Vard past her and pinned him against the stone wall. Her eyes met Vard’s, his glowing in the light of the guardroom. Alecia opened her mouth but no words came.
“Run!” Vard said again, desperation blazing from his eyes.
Alecia tore her gaze from his face and ran into the hallway. The passage sloped upwards, lit every ten paces by flaming torches. She hugged the rough stone walls, moving from shadow to shadow, and listening at crossing hallways before hurrying on.
When she was almost to the end of the hall, footsteps echoed from above. She looked around and spied a recessed doorway. In her dark clothes, it might provide her enough cover to remain unseen. She slid into the niche and flattened herself against a rough wooden door. A fumble at the latch brought a squeal of protest from the metal. Too noisy! The footsteps had almost reached her. She would have to hide as she was.
Alecia closed her eyes, sure whoever passed would hear her thudding heart, and pressed her body against the moist stone. Thank the Goddess for dark clothing and shadows! The stench of male sweat filled the passageway as men passed, and she opened her eyes to see three burly soldiers approaching the guardroom. The clash of swords told her that Vard still fought. He would not be able to handle four men; not in his condition. She stepped from the alcove, her hand reaching inside her boot for her knife and finding nothing. No! Alecia crouched in the middle of th
e passage, imagining cold steel slicing through Vard with each ring of metal on metal. Perhaps I could seize a sword from one of the soldiers. It was not her preferred weapon, especially not in the close confines of the guardroom but Vard needed her.
Then Alecia remembered why she had left in the first place. Vard would not be able to fight with her there. She would distract him when he needed all his attention to survive. Even with four opponents, he stood a better chance without her. A sob escaped her throat. I can only help him by abandoning him. If he died, it would not be in vain. She stood, took a deep breath and ran up the passageway.
Alecia crouched in the shadows at the corner of the guardhouse, her arms clutched around her knees. She trembled so that her teeth chattered. Her heart had long since stopped its pounding and each beat sounded a dull thud in her ears, the sound of the nails being hammered into her coffin -- or Vard’s. She had to wait for him, or at least see his body carried out.
Seconds dragged like hours as she huddled there, the cold seeping into her fingers. The clash of steel sounded as if from a great distance and then the roar of an animal. The screams of men followed. The realisation that Vard had shifted into the bear shook her out of her stupor and her heart soared. He will be well! The relief was short-lived. Cold memories of the beast sliced through her. In this form, Vard might destroy her. She must do as he urged and return to her father.
Pain shot through her head as she pushed herself to her feet. Staggering as if drunk, she kept to the shadows, thanking the Goddess that the guardhouse adjoined the castle grounds. She slipped between it and the wall that surrounded the castle. A patrol of her father’s soldiers surprised her as she stepped from the cover of the guardhouse. She flung herself behind a dung heap outside the stable, her hand pressed against her nose to stifle the choking fumes of the urine-drenched manure. The soldiers passed without seeing her and she hurried past the castle entrance around the corner to the trapdoor in a nearby stand of trees.
Princess Avenger - Brightcastle Saga Book 1 Page 15
