by Rachel James
“What was so severe at Huntenham for you to want to risk escaping?”
“I thought you didn’t ask questions.”
“I’ll admit you’ve raised my curiosity.”
She lowered her eyes. “I’m looking for my family.”
“At risk of death?”
She lifted her chin. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
He clenched his jaw. “Don’t presume to know me, woman.”
“Well, you are Shieldok, aren’t you? The same band of savages who stole everything I knew and loved when I was a child. You call me a thief because I took a horse to aid my escape, but it was for my own protection. If you Dyrahns didn’t take from me first, we may not be in this folly now.”
“A noble cause does not justify breaking the law. Your villainy has consequences.”
“So you admit my reasons are valid?”
“To tell the truth, I think you’re foolish. You ought to be grateful your life was spared. You have a home, food, and clothing. What more do you want?”
“My family.”
“Aye, well, you’re not the only one, lady. We all lose people close to us. ’Tis the way of life.”
She sat straighter. “I’m not bidding pity. I want freedom.” Hilda gazed into the distance. “A narrow line exists between foolishness and faith if you ask me. I prefer to think I am walking in faith, believing God has more for me, and trusting He will get me there.”
Ryce studied the road ahead of him. This woman was a wild one. He had never met such a fiery lady before, and he’d met with a few. She had passion and drive, but along with it, braveness equal to any man he’d fought with in battle. She was downright infuriating.
Still, her words held merit. How would he be able to hand this young woman over to the king? It wasn’t her fault she was not free.
“Why are you after me?”
He sighed. “Kenric is adamant that you be tried for your crimes.”
“Is this usual? Call me naïve, but I would think one mere slave girl who escapes to be of little consequence to a grand lord such as Kenric.”
“You stole from him. Perchance it’s his honour you’ve rattled.”
“His pride, aye, but it has naught to do with anything I stole.”
Chapter Four
His captive shuddered as they passed through the gated palisade of the king’s estate, and the unusual presence of golden winter sun did nothing to lighten Ryce’s mood. Why did he contest such powerlessness? If given the choice, would he still hand this woman over to the king?
They passed the looming palace, the two-storied wooden building dominating the area.
A symbol of Eadward’s foreboding presence.
He cast a glance down at her dark blue eyes, wide and moistened.
She’s terrified.
But he mustn’t get involved. She was not his concern. Deliver the girl, and he would go and obtain freedom. Simple.
Lord Kenric waited outside for them. This was his final chance. Run now, or hand her over.
What am I doing? She does not deserve this, no matter what’s she’s done.
His grip tightened on the reins. Nay.
He had to remain loyal to the king, but mayhap he could speak to Eadward and ask to lighten her punishment. After all, he was the king’s favourite warrior.
“Well, I’m glad you found her, Ryce. I had begun to think the worst when your man turned up this morrow empty-handed,” Kenric said.
He avoided eye contact with her as he helped her from the horse. She winced as her shoulder moved position.
He leaned down and whispered, “Are you in pain?”
Kenric hovered around impatiently. “I’ll take the girl from here.” He yanked on her rope bindings. “Oh, and Ryce, you’d best get clean. The king wishes an audience with you.”
“But she’s been hurt,” he shouted after him. Kenric did not turn around.
He stared after her, watching her stumble as Kenric violently pulled on her bindings.
Something was wrong. He sensed it.
With a deep sigh, he turned to his horse and tied him to the fence post. He’d get one of the livery boys to tend to his stallion. Right now, he needed to find Sherwin.
He gazed along the wet and muddied track, which led to the warriors’ quarters.
I hate this place.
There were too many memories here. This was where he had trained so many years ago. It wasn’t so bad in the beginning, when all he had to do was learn to fight. But then the killing started, and the spying, then everything changed.
“By all that is good, you’re finally here.” Sherwin clapped his arm across his back. “Did you find her?”
He followed Sherwin into the wooden hut and slumped in the chair, raking a shaking hand through his damp, knotted hair.
“By the gods, man. What is it?” Sherwin knelt beside him.
“I’ve done a terrible thing.”
“You killed her?”
His head shot up. “Nay, of course not.”
Sherwin let out a breath. “Then pray tell what troubles you.”
He stared at his friend, long and hard. “I handed her over to him. Now she’ll never be free.”
“Why did you?”
Ryce massaged his temple with his fingers. “So Eadward will sign my release papers. I had to make a choice. Her freedom, or mine.”
Sherwin studied him. “What’s changed? Did she say something to you?”
“Nay, not as such.” He stretched forward and stroked the stubble forming on his chin. “I cannot get her out of my mind. Her eyes silently pleading me to help her...and I...”
Sherwin rose. “Come now, and make yourself look respectable. Kenric informs me we have an audience with the king.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Indeed, what can that be all about?”
“You thought you’d get away with defying me, did you? Well, today I reap my vengeance,” Lord Kenric said.
She glanced over her shoulder as she was removed. Ryce stood frozen, his face pale and taut.
“No use looking at him, wench. No one will save you now.”
She had to find a way out of this before being discovered. “I’m sorry, m’lord. Please take me back, and I’ll do whatever you bid.”
“Now you’re repentant. Nay, I’m afraid you are too late.”
“I plead you, do not trouble the king with such a trivial misunderstanding.”
“Misunderstanding?” Kenric stopped, and perused her profile. “Do you think this is all about a little slave girl who ran away from her master?” He sniggered, a glint in his eye.
Her cheeks grew warm. Had her identity been truly discovered? “Please. I beg of you. Do not take me to the king.”
Kenric’s brows furrowed. “Why? What are you hiding?”
“N-naught.”
He drew closer. “I don’t believe you.” He grabbed her arm so hard she yelped out in pain. “Let’s go find out, shall we?”
He dragged her through the hall, passed the kitchen, and into the king’s private chambers.
King Eadward sat eating his supper when Kenric barged in unannounced. Eadward did not glance up. “Is it necessary to go about the place in such a manner? We possess customs to follow.”
“I’m sorry, sire, forgive me.”
Eadward waved. “Be seated.”
Kenric dumped Teagen on the hard floor and sat himself opposite the Shieldok king. She kept her head low so her hair would cover her face. Her heart pounded so fast she thought she might pass out, and her shoulder throbbed once more.
Three mere feet away stood the man responsible for killing her father. She glanced at the knife he used to slice the chicken from the bone. It would be easy...if only she had the strength.
“You’ve brought the girl?”
Kenric picked a chicken leg from the platter and took a bite. “Aye, my king.”
Eadward placed his food down and stared long and hard. “Stand up, girl, and look at me.”
>
She stood, but kept her head lowered.
“I said look at me, girl.”
Her heart raced faster. Slowly, she lifted her chin and eyed the old king. He was just as she remembered him. She’d seen him at a feast with his nephew once, after he’d been crowned King of Dyrah. But then his nephew had been mysteriously poisoned, and Eadward withdrew the kingdom’s friendship.
The king’s face paled.
“Sire? Is something wrong?”
Eadward moved toward her and brushed her hair away from her cheek. “I knew her mother. Why, their likeness is striking. ’Tis like seeing a ghost.”
Teagen did not meet his eyes. She turned her gaze to the wall decorated with shields, flags, and relic ornaments. What an odd collection.
“Souvenirs,” said Eadward. “For each of my victories.”
Alarmed, she gazed at the objects, noticing a crown in the middle. Why was the gold piece familiar to her?
The symbol for Elmetia. Her stomach turned queasy.
Eadward followed her stare. “An easy kill, if I do say so myself.”
“You're sick. Why do you take pride in something so vulgar?”
“You speak out of turn, Princess. Do not presume to understand me by spending a few moments in my company.”
“Do you desire the power, riches, or bloodlust?”
“Oh, the extra land has had its advantages, however I gained more than mere wealth the night we invaded Elmetia. Your father and I were friends once, but he wronged me deeply, and I vowed his death would be my only comfort.”
Eadward reached out and caressed her long, ebony locks. “You’ve your mother’s hair.”
“And who was my mother to you?”
He laughed and pinching her jaw, his cold breath hit her face. “She was mine.” He pushed Teagen away, and she winced as she hit the floor.
“At least—she should have been. If not for your father.”
“I...I don’t understand.”
“I was in exile when I knew your mother, but we waited to marry until I could reclaim my throne. Alas, she died before we had the chance. When my sister was poisoned at your father’s court, I seized the opportunity to invade.”
“That was an accident! You make it sound like malicious intent!”
“Aye, I know.”
A knock sounded at the gate.
“What?” the king bellowed. The door creaked open, and Ryce and Sherwin entered. Her head spinning and body in agony, she did not attempt to move from her unladylike position.
“You requested our presence, my king,” Ryce said.
Teagen sensed them looking at her.
“Of course. Please, take a seat.”
Ryce withdrew his eyes as Kenric escorted the girl away. He didn’t want the king seeing his concern. What had taken place? She had been on the floor, disheveled and broken. ’Twas nobody’s position to question the king. He did as he wished, but it didn’t make it right.
“I’m glad you’re here, Ryce,” the king stated, interrupting his thoughts. Eadward poured himself a cup of wine, his hands shaking. “I must thank you for delivering the princess to me. Your success has cut short your mission to Lyndisea.”
Ryce paused. “I’m sorry, sire. What princess?”
“Ah, well, it would seem your ‘Hilda,’ posing as a slave girl, is no other than Teagen the Elmetian princess.”
Ryce ran a hand through his shoulder-length hair.
Princess?
He slumped on a nearby chair next to Sherwin and stared into the crackling fire. His mind transported back eight years earlier to the night he killed the Elmetian king. It had been his first mission as the Commander, and Eadward had instructed him to kill Cedric. He remembered those eyes, and now made the connection. Cedric’s deep blue eyes that he’d looked into—the moment before taking the old Elmetian king’s life—were the same eyes as the princess’s. Not a day had passed where he did not regret his actions. He had played a part in destroying a kingdom, and a royal family. Bile rose in his throat.
And for what? This pathetic excuse for a king?
He eyed King Eadward. “But I killed her father,” he said quietly.
The king put down his goblet of wine. “You’re right. I’d forgotten you held that victory under your belt. Which is why your service is so invaluable to me—you get results.”
Ryce glanced at Sherwin. He seemed equally shocked at the latest turn of events. “Am I right in thinking you no longer wish for us to go after Prince Niall?”
“Aye. Little point now that we possess his sister. We’ll announce her execution, which is sure to draw him out of hiding.”
“You’re going to execute the princess? What harm can she do to you?”
“Who are you to question your king? You may be valuable to me, but not indispensable.”
Ryce gritted his teeth.
“Go to Lindeshelm with much haste. We may have conquered that measley Wealdfolk kingdom, but I fear East Shieldia will try and overturn us. See what you can find out.”
He did not believe it. “Another mission? But I thought—”
“I’d grant a leave of absence? Nay, this good fortune with the princess could not have happened at a better time and frees you to more pertinent matters.”
Ryce jumped and rested his hand on the table to steady himself. “My king, Kenric promised my release upon this last assignment.”
“Hmm? Oh aye, I do recall him mentioning something about that, but I’m afraid you are needed. This is of vital importance. Can you not understand?”
Ryce clenched his hands. “There will always be more missions, sire. I have served the crown for over fifteen years, but it is not a life I relish. I respectfully bid you to reconsider. You’ve many men, far better than I, who long to be given a chance to serve you.”
“You ungrateful swine! Do I not give you enough? You eat food from my table, spend my gold, possess rank, respect, and honour. What more do you want?”
“Freedom, sire. I’m no slave.”
“I am your king, you little lout. You will do what I say, and when I say it. Understood? Now go and do as you are instructed. I’ll give Kenric the details. You’ll be given your freedom the day I am convinced you deserve it, and not sooner.”
He needed some fresh air. Sherwin said naught to him as they exited the building and headed toward the outside tavern. They’d been together so long, their behaviour had become habitual.
Sherwin ordered jugs of mead. “Come now, drink. Drown your sorrows. You’ll feel much better after a few of these.”
Ryce peered into his jug of ale and saw his hazy reflection staring back. When had he gotten so old? He was only twenty-eight, but no longer a young man. He’d seen and done too much. It suffocated him.
Ryce downed the jug, yet the hollow nagging was not appeased. He gazed out into the courtyard—the busyness of palace life was overwhelming. It reminded him of why he stayed away from the king at all costs.
“Just bumped into Kenric. He’s caught an Elmetian princess—gonna hang ’er at the end of the week.”
Ryce turned toward the men who gossiped in the corner. Word did get around fast. Kenric meant business.
“Aye, makes little sense, though. I ’ear she’s a beauty.” The men broke with bouts of laughter.
“Oh, I’m sure the king’ll have his fair share of ’er before ’e’s done!”
Ryce closed his eyes, a foul taste in his mouth. He’d handed her over to Kenric. They’d had their chance to be free. Now both of them were at the hands of the merciless king.
Sherwin plunked his jug down and leaned over on his elbows. “Kenric must have known, all this time. Somehow, he discovered Hilda’s real identity, and yet he neglected to tell us. Why would he do that?”
“I know not.” Ryce rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Mayhap he thought we’d free her.”
Sherwin pulled a blade of long grass from the ground and chewed it. “So what should we do?”
He was responsible fo
r the death of the princess’s father, and now her and her brother.
“You know, he’s never going to let you go, Ryce. You’ll fight for him until you are no more.”
He was right. He had only ever done what the king had bid. It was one of his few qualities— loyalty—but where had that gotten him?
“You want us to rescue her, don’t you?”
Ryce eyed his friend.
“It’s our fault she’s here.”
“We’ll be outlaws. You must stay, Sherwin. You are already free, and will gain naught by helping me.”
“There is no future for us in Dyrah. Not while Eadward rules. My place is by your side, friend.
"We’ll go together.”
“Very well. We’ll do it at nightfall.”
Chapter Five
Teagen dozed in and out of consciousness as she lay in a prison cell, her hands and feet bound to a post. The repetitive sound of dripping water ticked the time away, a continual reminder of how long she had been trapped in the sewage-infumed, dark cell. She fought the tears that threatened to stream her face. Crying only made the pain in her head worse.
When will this nightmare ever end?
“You don’t care!” she cried to the empty chamber. “I thought you said you’d look after me.” Her voice echoed around the cell, and she heard her own pitiful cries talk back at her. Her tears turned to sobs.
“I’m sorry, Lord...I continue to doubt you.”
A gentle peace rose within her. “Your will be done, Lord.”
Her side grew numb. She’d been in one position too long, but at least the pain lessened with the dullness. Her tired, heavy eyelids threatened to close.
“I count three guards. Four, if you include the side entrance.”
Ryce lowered his body and leaned back on the wooden fence. “I’ll go in first—you cover me with your bow. Take the men down if necessary.”
Sherwin watched the Shieldok soldiers patrolling the jail entrance. “And once we’re inside?”
