“Lanzo, help me with this one.”
Rowen turned. One of the sailors was dragging a man across the deck.
“Lanzo! Now!”
The man being pulled looked familiar. A bloody face turned toward her.
Aren.
A swooping sensation rushed across her body. Rowen grabbed the railing. Aren. But how? Why?
“Get him downstairs with the others!”
The words were rocks flung through the dark. They hit her, breaking through the fog filling her mind. Aren was hurt. And possibly others. And they were heading below, where she was.
A growl filled the back of her throat, flowing through the rest of her body, surging her into action. Rowen gripped her sword and dashed up the stairs. “Aren!”
“Stop her!”
Rowen stopped and swerved around. She held her sword out, ready. Two sailors broke away from the group by the main mast. Rowen stepped away from the stairway and dropped into ready position.
The sailors slowed at the sight of her sword. She pointed her tip toward them. “What is going on here?” The ship shifted beneath her feet. Nausea swam up her throat. She swallowed and felt the bile sink back down. “What did you do to Aren?” She glanced past the two men. No one stood on the deck except the crew. Aren had already been pulled down into the hold. “And where are my other companions?”
A short man with spiky black hair and a long ugly scar on his cheek stepped into her line of sight. Rowen remembered him: Captain Drake.
“I want her taken alive and unharmed,” Drake said, his eyes still on her.
What? Rowen took a step back, her sword still in position. “What are you talking about?” Nausea crept back up her throat. Three more sailors moved toward her. Five against one. She tilted the tip of her sword higher. Then she let her training take over. Breathe. Just breathe. She focused in on the nearest sailor. “What have you done with my friends?”
“Don’t hurt her,” Drake said. “Remember, alive and unharmed.” The sailor near her took a step closer.
Alive? Unharmed? Her head began to spin. What was going on here?
Another sailor moved in on her position. The ship rocked and bounced, and Rowen was thrown left. Her vision blurred as a tidal wave of nausea swept over her. Unable to keep her balance, she fell to the wooden deck. Dry heaves overtook her body.
Someone grabbed her arm. “No!” Rowen swung out with her sword but missed. Another hand grabbed her arm. Fingers pried her grip away from her sword.
Her sword dropped to the deck with a loud clatter.
Rowen propelled herself forward, hoping to break the hold on her. Instead, she found herself gripped in a tight hold. Another set of hands grabbed her arms and thrust them behind her. A boot kicked her sword away. It slid across the deck toward the railing. Someone wound coarse rope around her wrists and hauled her to her feet.
Drake walked toward her with a smirk on his face.
Rowen clenched her hands. “What right do you have to tie me up? I am a passenger aboard this ship. You were paid to take me and my companions to Thyra."
“Paid? Ha!” Drake smiled, his missing tooth giving him a menacing look. “I know what you are, pretty one.” Rowen froze. “Yes, I heard the rumors.”
“What rumors?” Dread slowly crept up her spine.
“I heard stories.” His gaze followed the contours of her face. “Stories about a power that stopped the entire Temanin Army. When Prince Evander approached me about a very special mission, I dug around for more information on you. I began to put two and two together. Imagine my surprise when I discovered an Eldaran existed. Yes,” Drake said at the surprised look on Rowen’s face. “I know what an Eldaran is. And I know you are one. A very powerful one, strong enough to stop an entire army, so they say. Which means you may still possess the gift of healing.”
Rowen snapped her mouth shut and glared at Drake.
He laughed at her. “When I realized what you were, I knew I could make more gold using you than I ever could just transporting you to Thyra.”
“What do you mean?”
“I know many people who would be willing to pay thousands just to be healed. So now you are going to work for me.”
Rowen stared at Drake, hardly believing what he had just said. “What makes you think I would do this for you?”
“It doesn’t matter what you think.” Drake motioned to someone behind her. “It’s what I’m going to do.”
“No!”
Drake ignored her. “Put her down in the hold.”
“I won’t do it!” Rowen shouted.
Hands grabbed her shoulders and dragged her back. “And what about the others?” a voice said behind her.
Drake watched her. “Throw them overboard. Guards make terrible slaves.”
Rowen dug her heels into the deck. “What?” She struggled against the two men holding her. “No! You can’t do that!”
“What about the other woman, the one with red hair?” the man said, louder.
Drake looked up with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Keep her. She’ll fetch a good price in Temanin. But not until I’ve had my fun with her first.”
“No!” Rowen yelled, her mind working feverishly. She had to save them. She couldn’t let them drown, couldn’t let Aren— “Wait!” she called as Drake opened the door to his own cabin. “Listen to me! If you let these men—and the woman—live, I will… I will do as you ask.”
A satisfied grin spread across Drake’s face. Rowen swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth, unrelated to her seasickness. He had trapped her! That had been his plan all along! He walked toward her. “What did you say?” There was an eager gleam in his eyes.
Rowen wanted to take back her words. But the memory of Aren and his bloody face forced her to go on. “If you let them go, I will do as you ask.”
Drake stopped a foot from her. She could see the pockmarks across his cheeks and smelled his rancid breath. “You will do as I say?”
“I will heal for you.”
Drake studied her. Rowen fought the urge to turn away. “You have such pretty blue eyes,” he said and lifted his hand.
“Only heal,” Rowen said through gritted teeth. Drake paused a moment, his finger lingering inches from her face. “But if you harm any of them, including the woman, I will not only not heal for you, I will also do everything in my power to stop you.”
Drake stared at Rowen. “Deal.” He dropped his hand. “Head straight to shore. We’ll drop them off there.” He pointed at her. “You better keep your end of the deal, Eldaran.”
Rowen lifted her chin. “I will. I am a Truthsayer. I do not lie.”
“Good.” Drake turned toward the man on her right. “Put her with the others.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Rowen fought the urge to kick and scream as the two sailors roughly led her toward the other side of the ship. Inside the doorway was another set of steps leading down into the dark interior of the ship. Musty, sweaty air filled her nostrils again. Her captors led her around the corner into a small room.
“Lift the latch,” the sailor on her right said. A scrawny young man with an oversized tunic squeezed past Rowen and hurried toward a square of wood in the middle of the floor. He pulled at the ring and lifted the latch.
The sailors on either side of her dragged her toward the hole. More stairs led down into darkest bowels of the ship. “Down you go.”
Rowen squinted into the darkness. She could hardly see any stairs. “Are there—”
Hands hit her back, and Rowen stumbled downward, her feet hitting the steps with a jolt. Afraid the sailor would push her the rest of the way down, Rowen quickly felt for the steps and descended. Hot heavy air pressed against her face.
“Rowen?” a female voice said.
“Nierne?” She could barely make out shapes. There were other people down here, but the hold was too dark to see who they were, or how big the place was. The only light came from the top of the stairs.
One
of the dark silhouettes came to its feet. “Leave her alone!” A man’s voice.
“Lock the grate,” one of the sailors above said. A scrapping sound echoed overhead. Moments later, what little light there was vanished.
Rowen breathed heavily and looked around. She could see nothing. The darkness felt like it was closing in on her. She closed her eyes. The ship rocked beneath her. Nearby a man swore. A body bumped into her.
I wish I could see. Wait, maybe I can.
Her hands were bound behind her, but Rowen was sure she could work the glove off her hand. She struggled, tugging and pulling on the leather. It took a couple of seconds before the glove finally came off. A faint light filled the hold. Now she could see that it was the size of the guards’ common room back home, but with a low ceiling.
Someone gasped beside her. “What in all the Lands!” a man called out. “What is that?”
From the corner of her eye she saw two men back away from her. One of them was the man who had spoken. She caught a glimpse of their tabards before they moved out of the light from her hand. An anchor and ship was emblazoned across their chests. Avonains. Prince Evander’s men.
“What are you?” said another man.
Rowen turned. The man had a tattoo shaped like a snake along his neck. He stared at her. Another man stood behind him, in the shadows. Lord Tancred’s men. But where was Nierne? And Ar—
The light from her hand illuminated a body near their feet. Aren!
Rowen rushed toward him and knelt by beside Aren. His face was bloody and swollen. “Dear Word,” Rowen whispered. She looked up. “What happened to him?”
“They beat him.” Nierne stepped into the dim light and knelt down on the other side of Aren.
“Why?” Rowen stared at Nierne, her face half covered in shadows. “What did he do?”
“He tried to protect me.” Her voice cracked with emotion.
“Why are they doing this?” said one of the Avonains. “Why did they attack us and lock us up? Is it because of you?”
Rowen stared at Aren’s face. “Yes.” Soft warmth began to swirl inside her chest. She could feel her healing power reach for Aren.
“Why?” said a cold male voice. From the direction of the sound, Rowen guessed it was the other Avonain.
Rowen paused. “Because Captain Drake wants something I have.”
“What are you talking about?” The man with the snake tattoo stepped closer. “And what are you?”
“I—” Rowen took a shaky breath. The men trapped with her here had never been told what she was, what they had been sent to escort. Why hadn’t they been told the truth? “I am an Eldaran.”
She heard a gasp.
“A what?” one of the Avonains asked. He was answered with ominous whispers.
Rowen bowed her head. Why? Why did it have to be like this every time? “I can heal people,” she finally said. “And Drake wants that.” Her power had now reached her palm, willing and ready to heal. She began to work her wrists. The rope loosened.
“And what about us? What does Drake plan on doing with us?”
Others muttered in low voices. Suspicion and hostility swelled inside the hold.
“He was going to throw you all overboard,” she said.
There was some swearing and more whispers.
“But I made a bargain with him.” Rowen tugged and twisted harder at the rope. “I have agreed to heal people for him in exchange for your lives and freedom.”
The muttering stopped. But not all the hostility and suspicion vanished.
Nierne’s head shot up. “You did that? To save us? Oh, Rowen! But the price was too high! You shouldn’t have. You can’t trust Drake. He’ll make you heal for him, but he’ll kill us all anyway.”
“I had to take that chance. I couldn’t watch—” With a sharp pull and gasp, Rowen freed her hands from the rope. She brought her arms around. The light from her mark clearly showed the abuse Aren had endured.
She seethed. Drake.
Rowen pressed her palm against his bloody cheek, right over the Marks of Remembrance tattoos Aren wore for his father and brothers. At her touch, the warmth inside her hand burst forward. Its long tendrils reached inside Aren, sweeping across him. A numbing coldness entered her palm. Rowen closed her eyes and braced for the pain. The chill moved steadily up her arm.
Aren stirred beneath her hand. His eyes fluttered. “Row-Rowen?”
Rowen tried to speak, but at that moment, the pain hit. It felt like an invisible force was punching her face over and over again. Blood filled her mouth. Her skin tore and swelled. She gurgled out a gasp. Bright lights flashed across her vision. Her head hit the floor.
• • •
A scraping sound echoed overhead. Light came pouring through the opening in the ceiling. Rowen lay on her side. She blinked against the light. A shadow fell across the bright beam. A single boot appeared and landed on the top step. Another one followed.
With a gasp, Rowen sat up and scrambled away from the stairs, trying to remember where she was and why. She ran into something firm. Panic gripped her like a wild animal.
“Don’t worry, I have you,” said a low voice.
Rowen stopped. “Aren?” she whispered, twisting her head back to look at the man behind her. His face was barely visible in the shadows.
“Yes. I won’t let Drake take you.”
“Aren, that’s not an option—”
Drake descended the stairs. “Time to go!” His voice boomed across the hold. “We’ve reached land, and I don’t want to waste any more time here than I have too.”
Bodies, awakened by the voice, stirred from the floor. Two other sailors made their way down the stairs.
Drake looked around. “Get these men up and out of here.” He looked at Rowen and smiled. “I have a promise to keep.”
“Rowen, you don’t have to do this,” Aren said. “Nierne told me what you did and—”
“Get up!” Something sharp jabbed Rowen in the side. She broke away from Aren and staggered to her feet. The hold spun.
“Rowen, please reconsider.”
“She can’t.” The hold stopped spinning. Rowen found Drake standing in front of her. “She gave me her word.”
“You—”Aren finished in Nordic and stepped around Rowen and stared down into Drake’s face. His hands were bound behind his back, but he was still menacing. “You’re a liar and a traitor!”
Drake’s face turned hard.
Afraid Drake would change his mind, Rowen stepped between the two men.
Aren stopped. He looked at her, his face twisted with anger and pain. Rowen could sense the defiance building in the other men in the hold, spurred on by Aren’s words. But that course of action would only end in bloodshed and possibly death. And she wouldn’t allow that.
Rowen stepped forward. “Please, Aren, stop. It’s the only way I could save you. If you fight—any of you—” she looked around— “you will die.” The Avonains paused, but the two Nordics stared at Drake with narrowed eyes and lips curled. “I gave myself up so that you all might go free.”
A protest rumbled around the hold. A moment later, the Nordics finally stepped back. She knew the men understood. The sailors began to lead the men up the stairs. Rowen went to follow, but one of the sailors stopped her.
“No, you stay here.”
“Wait, Drake is keeping me down here?”
“Where did you think I would keep you? In your own cabin?” Drake laughed and turned back to oversee those being moved upstairs.
She would be left in the dark?
Aren stepped next to Rowen. “You don’t have to do this,” he said quietly, his eyes on Drake. “You can’t do this. We’ll find another way off this ship. Do you know what a man like Drake will do to a woman like you?”
Aren had no idea how hard he was making it for her to stay. “I am only healing for Drake,” she said quietly. “Nothing more.”
“You can’t trust him!”
A sailor stepped b
etween them. “Get moving!” The man jabbed Aren. Aren stepped back. Another sailor grabbed his arm and began to pull him toward the stairs.
“Let go of me!” Aren wrenched his arm away from the sailor. “Listen, Rowen.” He looked back at her. “I’ll find you. Whatever it takes, as soon as I’m on land, I’ll—”
“No, Aren,” Rowen said. “Get these men home.” She spotted Nierne being dragged up the stairs. “And help Nierne too.”
The sailor swore and grabbed Aren again and pulled him toward the stairs.
“Don’t fight him. Go.”
“Rowen, I won’t let you—”
“Go.”
“But—”
“Keep moving!” the sailor shouted, shoving Aren toward the stairs. Aren paused. Rowen shook her head. With a defeated look, Aren turned. He placed a foot on the first step.
Something shriveled up inside her as she watched Aren go. Drake stood nearby, his eyes on her. Rowen swallowed and kept her gaze on Aren. She had made a deal, and now it was time to pay up.
Aren was halfway up the stairs.
Wait, there was one more thing. “Aren!” Rowen shouted.
Aren stopped and swiveled around. “Rowen?” He took a step down.
This was her chance, her one chance. Rowen hesitated.
A sailor descended the steps. “Get going,” he said, grabbing Aren’s arm.
Aren tore his arm free. “Rowen, what is it?”
“Tell Lore… Tell Lore I love him.”
Aren stopped and stared at her, his face unreadable.
“I said move it!” The sailor grabbed Aren again and yanked him up by the shoulder. Aren stumbled back a couple of stairs.
His face tore at her heart. Rowen blinked and dropped her head. She shouldn’t have asked him to carry that message.
“I will.”
Rowen looked back up. “What?”
Aren gave her a sad smile. “I promise.” Then he disappeared through the opening. The square door dropped back into place, and darkness filled her vision once again.
Rowen stood there, listening to the shouting and the scuffling of feet overhead. Then she slowly sank to her knees. She had saved them. She had saved Aren and Nierne and the others.
Son of Truth (Follower of the Word) Page 11
