Her fingers grasped the metal ring concealed in the side of the stone block and she heaved on it. The heavy stone would not budge. Alecia collapsed, sobbing, her courage stolen by the violence she had endured and the injuries that made every muscle ache.
“Halt in the name of the prince!” a male voice said, close by.
Alecia flung herself over and froze as a sword tip hovered at her breast. The face at the end of the sword was Ramón’s. She groaned. “I mean no harm. Leave me be.”
Ramón raised the lantern he held, his handsome face suspicious. “Who are you and what is your purpose? This is a foul night to be abroad.”
“Let me go, sir. I promise to go straight home.”
Ramón’s eyes narrowed and he bent closer, studying her face. Then he raised the sword and flicked the hood off her head, followed by her cap. Alecia flinched as her hair tumbled from its binding.
“Alecia!” He fell to his knees, dropping the sword and placing the lantern beside him on the ground. “You are hurt! Who has done this?” When she remained silent, Ramón made a closer study of her wounds and the clothes she wore. “It was you who killed those men tonight,” he said. “It was you all along!”
Alecia was too tired to think of a convincing lie. She had no time to waste on Ramón when Vard might be right behind her. “I don’t intend to sit here and explain myself to you. I’m the princess, remember? Let me go…now!”
“Oh no, Alecia. That is where you are wrong.” His hand reached out to stroke the side of her face where a bruise throbbed. “I want to know everything.” He leaned closer. She raised her hands to ward him off but he grabbed them and pulled her against him.
Panic fluttered in Alecia’s stomach. She had been so close to safety and now Ramón might spoil everything.
His breath brushed her cheek. “I love you, Alecia. Your grubby little secret is safe with me. You belong to Lord Finus now, but he need never know. Let me be your first. Surely you would rather me than that old stork?”
“Please, Ramón, we are friends. Don’t do this.” Alecia could feel the tension in the squire, knew he wanted her despite the stench of her clothes. Perhaps what he felt for her really was true love if he could ignore that. She thought of Vard behind her and Lord Finus waiting for her back at the castle and shuddered. Let Ramón have her tonight. He would save her from the bear and she would give him what he longed for. At least Lord Finus would not get that gift.
Ramón must have seen something of her thoughts, for he bent and kissed her. His lips felt soft against hers and his arms moved around her, but his mouth did not distract her as Vard’s had. She found herself remembering another kiss, another embrace, and pushed him away. He sat back on his haunches, his hand gripping her fingers and a frown on his face.
“If you were ever my friend,” she said, “help me lift this trapdoor and say nothing to my father.”
“You will grow to love me in time,” he said. “Come away with me tonight.”
“I know you care for me,” Alecia said, “but I am not for you.”
“I love you, Alecia,” Ramón said. “There will never be anyone else for me. I have loved you from that first day when you asked me to fetch your horse and then complained when I helped you to mount. I knew then that you were no ordinary princess. Your actions since have only strengthened my love.”
“I cannot discuss this here. It is not safe. I must return to my chambers and you to your room. Please, just help me with this door.”
Ramón stared at her for a long moment and Alecia’s heart ached at the disappointment in his eyes. Finally, he helped her to her feet, hauled the stone up and thrust the lantern at her. “Take this; you will need it.”
Alecia took the light. “Forget your feelings, Ramón. There can never be more than friendship between us.”
“You considered more just moments ago,” he said. “I saw it in your eyes.”
“You saw hopelessness and desperation, not desire or love, and you deserve better.” Alecia stepped down and did not look back. She prayed that Ramón would return to his quarters. He was in danger if he was out this night.
The return to her room was accomplished quickly with the aid of the lantern. Flickering candles lit the chamber as she passed from behind the tapestry. Alecia built up the fire and sat on a chair near the flames, rocking back and forwards, trapped in a limbo of uncertain grayness; her heart given to a man not human, but given all the same. Her promise to Vard had sealed her fate as wife to Finus and mother to his brats. Her dreams of being a warrior queen and of marrying for love would never be.
She tried to focus on the positives. All the mercenaries except one were dead. That would have to be enough to satisfy her need for revenge. She was safe -- was that a positive when she had wished for death tonight? Vard was most likely safe as well, but she could not relish his life at the mercy of his animal side. She could choose a life for good, to balance the evil in her realm, but how much power would she have as wife to Lord Finus? He would not be swayed by her desire for fairness and she could not continue to battle in a physical sense. Sooner or later, she would be found out.
Alecia stood and crossed to the mirror. Holy Goddess! The right side of her face was a mass of purple welts and scrapes and her throat looked worse. A high-necked gown would hide some of the damage but there was little she could do about her face, unless she could reach Hetty. Yes, that is the answer! Alecia imagined traversing the darkened alleys again and the spark of hope inside her was replaced with violent tremors. She had no more courage left tonight. Perhaps if she took to her bed for a week, the bruising would have faded enough to hide with makeup.
She gave herself a sponge bath and washed her hair. Her clothes she tossed into the fire, the stench of burning dung infusing the room. Once her face was clean, she applied an ointment Hetty had given her for bruising. The flesh was so sore, she could barely bring herself to touch it, but she made herself rub in the ointment until her cheek throbbed and her stomach heaved. Then she applied the salve to the bruises that dotted the rest of her body and donned her nightgown. She checked that her chamber door was locked, blew out the candles and climbed into bed. It was a long time before she fell asleep.
Chapter 17
At midday the next day, an urgent knocking woke Alecia from an exhausted sleep. Pain seared her skull as she sat up in bed and a low moan escaped her lips. She collapsed back on the pillows. Her throat burned as she swallowed another moan. The knock came again, this time louder, more insistent. Gathering her courage, she levered herself up out of bed and walked slowly to the door.
“Who is it?” she croaked.
“Your betrothed, my dear. I wish to speak with you.”
Alecia groaned inwardly. She cleared her throat, wincing at the pain the movement caused. “I cannot see you today, my lord,” she said. “I am unwell. Perhaps tomorrow or the next day?”
“We need to discuss arrangements for our marriage ceremony, my dear.”
“Whatever you decide will be acceptable,” Alecia said. “You have impeccable taste.” She imagined the garish decorations and extravagant ceremony that Finus would organise and almost opened the door. But she could not be seen yet. “I truly don’t mind. You can tell me of your arrangements when I am better.”
“Very well, my dear,” Finus said. “I will call again tomorrow.”
Alecia heard him walk away and slumped against the door. She glanced in the mirror as she returned to her bed and gasped. The flesh had puffed up to close her right eye and the bruising was every shade of purple and blue. She found the ointment and forced herself to rub it into her skin again. It is pointless. Alecia slammed the jar back on her beauty shelf and gasped again as she saw a tray of food on her breakfast table. Even if her bruises had been against the pillow, any observant maid -- let alone Millie -- should have spied the damage to her face. It must have been Millie for she was the only person, besides Prince Zialni, who had a key. How long would it be before someone arrived asking her que
stions? Perhaps Finus already knew of her injuries.
She forced herself to eat as much of the food as she could. The porridge was cold but it slid down her tender throat more easily once it was mixed with honey and milk. There was crusty bread, which she avoided, a soft cheese and spiced wine. She sniffed the wine and then swallowed a mouthful. It warmed her stomach. Perhaps it would soothe her hurts and help her sleep. She finished the first goblet and poured another, which she finished too.
Alecia returned to her bed and lay down with her damaged eye to the pillow. She was quickly asleep.
When Alecia awoke, it was dark. Some small noise had disturbed her. She froze, senses straining to detect anything out of the ordinary, and felt a presence beside her bed. A hand clasped her shoulder and she lurched upright. Her ruined throat strangled the scream that bubbled up.
“Do not fear, Daughter, it is only your father, come to see you. You’ve slept all day.”
Alecia sighed with relief then remembered she couldn’t let him see her face. “You…you startled me, Father,” she said, her voice strained and her throat painful.
“You sound unwell, Alecia. What ails you?”
“I am unwell, Father, just as I told Lord Finus. Leave me be and I will be recovered in a matter of days.”
“Are you certain of that, Alecia?” The prince sounded tense.
“I am sure it is nothing serious.”
“I had Millie bring your evening meal. I will light some candles and talk with you while you eat.”
“I am not hungry, Father. I wish to sleep. Do not light the candles.” Alecia’s heart pounded at the thought of her father’s face if he saw her injuries.
There was a long pause in which Alecia listened to the blood drubbing in her ears. Then her father’s weight shifted from the bed and she sighed with relief. The next moment, her heart lurched as a glowing taper moved from the banked fire towards the candles on her bedside table. Light blossomed as the prince lit two candles. Alecia rolled over and buried her face in the pillow. She felt her father’s weight on the bed once more.
“Leave me be,” she groaned.
“I insist you look at me, Alecia,” Prince Zialni said, his hand resting on her shoulder.
Alecia braced herself. When her father used that tone of voice, he would not be denied. She rolled over and sat up, her eyes slowly rising to his.
“Alecia!” he said, springing to his feet as if her face frightened him. “What has happened?”
“It is nothing, Father. A fall, nothing more.”
The prince’s eyes narrowed. “A fall did not do that to your neck.” His fingers brushed the battered skin of her throat and he gasped and drew his hand away. “Who has…?” Alecia could see that the prince scrambled to understand the reason for her injuries. “I will kill him. I will kill whoever has dared to lay hands on you. Did they…?”
White-hot anger flared in Alecia’s heart. “No, Father, my honor is intact,” she spat. “But well might you kill the man who did this to me. He is already a murderer and I would be another to add to his tally if not for your soldiers.”
Prince Zialni froze. “Murderer! What…?” Realisation dawned in his eyes. “It was you,” he said. “You are the lad who has attacked my -- the mercenaries.”
Alecia went in for the kill. “They are your men to the core. You are ultimately responsible for Jorge’s death.”
“Jorge always did have more courage than brains,” the prince said. “Is that what this is all about? You avenging Jorge’s death?
“Yes,” she spat, “and I would do it again in a heartbeat.”
The prince’s face paled. “Are you mad? You could have been killed.” Alecia tossed aside the covers and bounded from the bed to confront her father. “What will you do now? Hand me to the guards for crucifixion?” She should have stayed in her cell, refused to escape and made her father squirm. Well, he would suffer now, knowing that his actions had driven her to desperate acts.
He stared at her as if he had never seen the real Alecia. “Of course I won’t hand you over but how did you escape? The guards are all dead. There is blood everywhere and bear prints. I thought the prisoner had been taken by the animal.”
“I wish I had died last night,” she said. “That was my plan.”
Her father’s face went from pale to bright red in seconds. She had never seen him so angry. “Tell me how you escaped. If you were rescued, let me know who was responsible so that I can thank him.”
“So that you can kill him, you mean? You would not want evidence of your daughter’s crimes known by the populace.”
The flush moved from the prince’s face right down his neck as he gripped Alecia’s arms above the elbow. “Do not taunt me,” he said. “Captain Anton is again absent. Tell me he was not involved.”
“This,” Alecia pointed to her face and neck, “has nothing to do with the captain. What happened this night is about you and me.” Pain and anger bubbled up until she felt her chest would burst. “I wish I were dead. You are no father of mine, to sell me off to Lord Finus. He is old enough to be my father, my grandfather. He paws at me in your presence. Heaven forbid that I should have been soiled this night. Your precious deal with my betrothed would not have been honored then, would it, Father?”
“Your duty is to the kingdom, Alecia, as you have always known.”
“You did not even have the heart to choose a young man for me, someone I at least had a chance of growing to love.”
“Do not be foolish. Lord Finus brings alliances that I require. You will marry as soon as your wounds heal. And you will produce a son within the year.”
“What do you think would happen if I presented myself to the lieutenant, Father?”
The prince’s hands tightened on her arms. Did she not have enough bruises without him adding to them?
“You will conceal your wounds until they heal. I will confine you to the lower cellar and tell Millie you have gone to the country for a holiday.”
Alecia went cold from head to toe. “No!” She struggled against his hands, trying to reach him with her fists. “I won’t let you cage me.” She was too weak to struggle long. The prince gave her a small shove and Alecia toppled backwards onto the bed. She rolled onto her stomach, pain grabbing her face as it came into contact with the quilt. Her father’s words came through a fog of hurt and exhaustion.
“You will do as I say. Your marriage will take place as soon as you are healed and Lord Finus will see to the matter of an heir for the kingdom. Get up and pack what you need. I will wait outside.” Something on the bedside table caught his eye. “And you will wear that ring!”
The cold voice of the man she had believed would always love her squeezed the last ounce of hope from her heart.
Vard awoke in a shallow cave. Pain struck him from a dozen points as he moved. His tunic and breeches were filthy and bloodstained. He removed his clothes and examined the wounds one by one. None of them appeared serious -- the benefit of injuries taken while in transformation. It was far harder to hurt a bear than a human.
Alecia was wrong. He was human.
He dressed and stepped warily from the cave where he had sought refuge the night of the assassin’s attack. It lay deep in the forest to the north-east of Brightcastle. He stood at the entrance, as the first rays of the sun touched the tips of the trees beneath him. The peace of the scene contrasted with the tumult inside. There had been hard times in the past, not least being his early days of transformation, when he had not known what or who he was; the days after he had killed his cousin Frel. Then, as now, his lack of control over the transformation had almost been his undoing. He had thought those days of desperation were past.
Vard gripped the amber talisman and its warmth caressed his palm. He closed his eyes and Alecia’s face came to mind; a face ravaged by bruises and fear. The face he had confronted last night. An ache began deep in his chest and grew in intensity. He squeezed his eyes tight and felt moisture on his cheeks.
“I can’t bear this agony,” he said, the words a whisper on the wind. He wasn’t sure what the pain was, but he had his suspicions. It was an impossible situation. He had to leave before Alecia paid the ultimate price for his stupidity. Vard set off down the rocky slope, heading eastwards and away from Brightcastle.
He stopped at a stream at the base of the hill and drank long and deeply. The water refreshed him but when he went to wade across the stream, the ache in his chest returned. He tried to ignore it and within minutes, he could no longer walk. He crawled along on hands and knees until soon he couldn’t even do that. Vard finally decided that he must return to the cave or die in the woods, and so he crossed back over the stream. Immediately the pain ceased. He shook his head, puzzled, and turned back to the east. This time the pain returned with just one step towards the water.
“I get the message,” Vard muttered. He set off south and east, following the stream, unprepared to give in to the force that blocked his travel east. Each time he traveled further east than south, the throbbing in his chest crippled him. Eventually, he realized that whenever he took a course that led him away from Brightcastle, the pain would return. He was like a pigeon, and Brightcastle the coop.
So, something would not let him leave Brightcastle -- was the force external or did it come from within? He couldn’t leave, but how could he stay? He didn’t remember all of the guardroom slaughter of last night but recalled enough to know that everyone had been killed. He’d sent Alecia away, but had she escaped? If she had returned, it was possible she’d been killed by one of the guards… or by the bear. No! He’d remember that. He would remember Alecia. Suddenly he had to know that she lived.
Vard reached the outskirts of Brightcastle with the sun only halfway to its zenith. People were in the streets, going about their daily business. Children capered in the alleys and women in bonnets shopped at the street stalls. A thin man with a long moustache hammered nails to fix a notice on the front wall of a baker’s shop. There were more of the same signs on several other buildings. He allowed a partial transformation to the hawk, just enough to take advantage of the bird’s superior eyesight. What he saw made him slide back into the shadows of the alleyway.
Princess Avenger - Brightcastle Saga Book 1 Page 16
