Royal Protocol

by Dana Marton

  They wasted a precious minute, which was enough time for someone to catch up with them from behind. The man was running at full speed. Benedek pushed Rayne into the tunnel on the right then pulled into the tunnel on the left. If the man came into the left tunnel, he would take care of the guy without Rayne being in harm’s way. If the guy went to the right, Benedek could take him out from behind before he reached Rayne. If he went straight, they could simply wait a minute then follow him without confrontation.

  Unfortunately he went to the right.

  In his stockinged feet, Benedek dashed behind him and leaped on the man, groaning when they crashed to the ground with a thud. The guy’s flashlight went out immediately. For a blind moment, Benedek groped around, then he finally oriented himself and kneeled on the man’s right wrist, immobilizing the hand before it went for a weapon. Then he grabbed the man’s head from behind and jerked as hard as he could, back and to the left. The man’s spine severed with a sickening snap. His head thudded to the floor when Benedek let it go.

  “Stay where you are. I’ll be there in a second,” he called out to Rayne in a whisper.

  He could hear her moving in the darkness, and decided to keep that darkness for a while longer. She was better off not seeing this. He felt around for the man’s gun and found a pistol tucked into the back of the guy’s waistband. He took that and stuck it into his cummerbund, next to the other one, then found his shoes, which he’d dropped before he attacked.

  He didn’t turn on the flashlight until he’d walked a few steps in Rayne’s direction, and even then he made sure he kept it pointing forward.

  “Are you hurt?” she asked, and for the first time, she was the one who reached for him.

  He badly wanted to savor that moment, but couldn’t afford to pause, not for a second. “We have to go.” He took her hand and drew her forward.

  “You didn’t shoot him.”

  A shot would have echoed in the tunnels, drawing rebels to them. “He’s gone. You don’t have to worry about him.”

  Silence was her only response, then a brief squeeze of her hand.

  The tunnel led up after a while. They had to be getting close to the surface. He was beginning to feel decidedly optimistic. But then they turned a corner and ran smack dab into a group of armed rebels. The men were standing, silently staring at a crack in the ceiling. Had they been moving forward or talking, Rayne would have heard them.

  As they raised their guns, Benedek tossed his flashlight at the men. It’d been in his hands and was his most immediate weapon. “Run!” he yelled to Rayne as he pulled the pistol and began shooting blindly behind himself as he ran after her.

  He ran out of bullets pretty quickly in both weapons.

  But by then they were at an intersection. Rayne ran into another branch of the tunnel and he followed her, going by the sound of her footsteps. She suddenly stopped. He ran into her.

  He steadied her, ignoring that his hands accidentally brushed up against her delicious curves. She was moving forward already again, but carefully this time, not at a run. Boots echoed off tunnel walls behind them.

  He trailed a hand on the wall, grateful when they reached another turn so soon. They stepped aside just as someone shined a flashlight down behind them.

  “Not this way, but there’s a turn ahead.”

  “Nothing here either.”

  “Nothing here.”

  “We’ll split up.”

  Benedek pulled her forward again. While they’d walked, they’d been fine, but now that they were running, his toes were becoming bruised and bloody from the uneven stone floor. He hated to think that Rayne was getting hurt as well. To her credit, she hadn’t said a word of complaint and kept up.

  “We should stop to rest,” he told her when they’d made several turns and could no longer hear anyone running behind them. Looked like they were safe for now.

  “No.” She kept on, but slowed.

  When they found a side tunnel that had collapsed a few feet in, they used that space to relieve themselves, each while the other one stood watch.

  “This is just too gross. I pity people who lived before the invention of toilets,” she said after they were both done and moving on.

  “How are your feet? You must be hurting. Let me carry you awhile.”

  “Don’t get too deep into the whole valiant prince thing. These are not sissy feet. These feet danced on stage in prop shoes two size too small. They can take a beating.”

  But not on his watch, dammit. “I apologize. I had very different plans for your visit.”

  “I bet,” she said in a voice full of innuendo.

  He smiled into the darkness. “All right, I’ll admit it. I had some vague notions of seduction.”

  “Vague?”

  “Very well. Explicit notions.”

  A good-natured groan came through the darkness from her direction as she kept walking. “I appreciate the honesty and all that, but I really don’t need to know any more about this.”

  “And just when I was warming up to the subject. Are you sure? Because I’d be willing to share some of the details.”

  “No!” The word came with a charming squeal.

  “I’m guessing you’ve been the object of many attempts at seduction.” Jealousy reared its ugly head immediately.

  “Too many,” she said without humor.

  “I thought women liked to be pursued.”

  “Within reason.”

  His protective instincts rose again, as they had when she’d talked about her childhood.

  As if her thoughts had returned to that conversation as well, she muttered, “I hate all this darkness.”

  No sooner did she say the words than they turned a corner and saw a dim light up ahead, around the next bend.

  She immediately fell silent. They moved ahead slower and even more carefully. The hundred-foot section took them ten minutes to traverse. But when he stuck his head around the next corner to check for the source of light, he found that it wasn’t coming from a group of rebels. Early morning light came through an opening, fifty feet or so above them.

  “We made it.” She stood directly under the light and raised her face to it. The smile on her face was spellbinding, grabbing him by the throat and not letting go. She looked like a mussed angel with her long black hair having tumbled loose, streaming down her delicate shoulders.

  Her signature black pearl choker had slid askew at one point, and for the first time, he could see that it hid a long scar. The welt stood in stark contrast to her perfect femininity, and immediately brought his protective instincts into play.

  “What’s that?” He reached for her shoulders, turning her to him.

  Her gaze measured his, and she immediately covered the scar with her hand, even as she pulled away from him. “Nothing.” She looked up again into the light.

  The scar was jagged enough so he knew it hadn’t come from surgery. A dark need pushed him. “What happened?”

  She shrugged and looked fully prepared to ignore him as she examined the walls of the well-like hole. Smooth as granite, not a foothold in sight, he noted that, too. The opening was about fifty feet or so up.

  “Somebody hurt you.” He looked to the delicate hand that hid that scar now, finding he was unable to focus on anything else, even on the way out.

  “A long time ago.” Her silver eyes begged him not to push.

  “Who?” He couldn’t help himself.

  “I don’t even know his name.” She turned to him at last, apparently accepting that he was going to be damn stubborn about this. “I told you my mother left me alone a lot. One time a male friend of hers stopped by. He talked me into letting him inside to wait for her.”

  His fists tightened at his side. He damn well already knew that he was going to hate this story.

  “He said he brought her money. He hadn’t. He took the TV. Not that we’d watched it in weeks, it was one of those no money for bills times,” she said matter-offactly.

  He
’d grown up in a palace, so he had trouble putting her words into context, but not the danger she’d been in. “The scar?” He could see her vividly as a little girl, alone in the dark and at the mercy of a bastard. His blood about boiled.

  “He wanted more than the TV. He got sick of waiting for my mother. He decided to slap me around for entertainment. He thought my mother might have some emergency stash of booze. He tried to get me to tell him where. When I didn’t, he cut my throat with his Buck knife and left me for dead.”

  He couldn’t say anything. The images in his head defied words. Emotions swirled in him, some tender, some had enough rage for murder.

  “A neighbor heard all the yelling and came over to complain. She called the ambulance. The funny thing is,” she added in a voice that sounded studiously unaffected, “another millimeter and he would have damaged the vocal cords. I would have never been a singer.”

  He reached out and pulled her to him roughly, enfolded her in his arms, aware that he wanted to keep her there forever. The thought that something even worse could have happened to her was killing him, which was crazy because what happened was long ago and she’d made it, she was here.

  “It’s okay,” she said.

  “Not in a million years.” He dipped his head and pressed his lips against the scar, following the long, jagged line. He wished he could make it disappear. He wished he could have protected her. He couldn’t then, but he sure could now. He just had to stop getting distracted by her nearness and his need for her. He pulled back and adjusted her black pearl choker over the scar. “Let’s get out of here.”

  A wrought-iron grate covered the opening high above them. He could hear distant sounds coming from there. Cars. All this time, he’d been looking either up or at Rayne. Now he looked down, at the ground by his feet.

  There were coins all over the place.

  “What’s this?” Rayne asked, noticing the money for the first time as well.

  “One of the wishing wells. We have seven in the parks that surround the palace.”

  “So we’re close?” Hope filled her voice. She had already put the past away, just like that. It had been carefully tucked back behind one of those impenetrable walls of hers.

  Did the fact that she’d allowed him a glimpse mean anything? He wanted very much to explore that subject, but couldn’t at the moment.

  “We’re very close. Let’s find a way to get up there and call for help. It shouldn’t be too hard. Half the country is looking for us.”

  “But the wall is too smooth,” she said doubtfully.

  “Maybe there are some handholds a little higher up. Get on my shoulders.”

  To her credit, she didn’t argue. When he folded his fingers in front of him, she stepped into his hands, then up. She weighed next to nothing. She must have been even slighter as a little girl, with money not being in abundance. That someone would hurt her—He relaxed his stiffening shoulders. He had to focus on what they were doing right now, right here.

  “Anything?” he asked when she was fully standing, supporting herself by bracing a hand against the wall.

  “Same. Smooth. Is there a public park up there?”

  “Yes.”

  “People walk dogs early in the morning.” Then before he could comment on that, she yelled up, “Help!” Then again and again.

  She did have a powerful voice. He added his own. This could be their best chance for getting out of here. The well amplified the sound upward. Down at tunnel level the thick walls would muffle their shouting. Whatever sound did transmit would echo around the many tunnels, making identifying the direction where it came from difficult for the rebels, he hoped.

  This wasn’t the best possible strategy, but they didn’t have much of a choice. They couldn’t afford to wait around until someone happened to walk by.

  Calling for help was a good plan. Sooner or later, they would have been discovered.

  Unfortunately, their enemies were closer than he’d estimated. And they got there before their would-be rescuers could have.

  By the time Benedek heard boots slapping on rock behind them and got Rayne back to the ground, it was too late. The four armed men running toward them were within shooting distance.

  THERE WAS ENOUGH LIGHT FROM the top of the wishing well to see. The space was too small to miss. They didn’t stand a chance, although Rayne was praying with all her heart for a speedy escape. But for once, they were completely trapped.

  Benedek must have come to the same conclusion, because as she watched, he put himself between her and the armed men and raised his hands in the air.

  Always, his first instinct was to protect her. It was a new experience, one she wasn’t sure what to do with. She’d always made a point of taking care of herself. Still, his words and actions during their mad escape had wormed their way inside her and touched her in a way she couldn’t explain to herself.

  Nor did she have the time to think about it at the moment. She raised her hands as well.

  “Your Highness,” one of the men mocked Benedek and prodded him with the barrel of his rifle.

  Benedek turned to give her an encouraging look, then moved along as they wanted him to, without rising to the bait.

  The rebels wanted him dead, was all she could think.

  The bad news was, they were outnumbered four to two, and outgunned as well. The good news was, cell phones didn’t work down here. Which meant the rebels couldn’t call for reinforcements. And Benedek’s shoulders looked way too dejected.

  She hadn’t known him for long, but she knew he wasn’t the type to give up, not this easily. He was planning something even now, she was sure of that. She had to keep her eyes on him and make sure that if he gave any sort of signal, she would be ready. Their lives depended on being able to take advantage of the smallest opportunity.

  Which became infinitely more difficult when the rebel behind her grabbed her by the arm and at the next junction shoved her into the right branch of the tunnel, while the rest of the men took Benedek to the left.

  Being separated couldn’t be a good thing.

  Chapter Seven

  “Benedek!” She wasn’t proud of it, but she did scream his name in sudden panic. After what they’d been through already, being alone in the tunnel with a murderous maniac, with only his flashlight standing between her and complete darkness, was more than she could take. Her famous fortitude was crumbling.

  “I’ll come for you,” Benedek called back, his voice sure and steady.

  No he wouldn’t. She wanted to trust that promise—trust him—and she almost could, which would have amazed her had she time to think about it. But instinct honed by decades of hard knocks taught her she couldn’t leave her life in anyone’s hands. If she were to live, she had to find a way to save herself.

  Coming to that resolution helped to calm her initial panic. Business as usual then. The hard times were here and she had to find a way out again. The first thing she had to do was take stock of the situation. Which she did. Only one man escorted her, while there were three with Benedek. And being a woman, a singer, she was most likely underestimated.

  She had taken self-defense lessons at one point in her life, but she couldn’t remember much. She did, however, practice yoga religiously. The asanas helped with the stress of performances and the breathing exercises were good for her singing. Yoga was about strength, inner strength as well as physical strength. She reached to that deep core, stepping out of her silk slipper as if by accident. She stumbled.

  “Sorry. Just a sec.” She bent for the shoe, positioning herself to face the rebel behind her.

  As she came up, she aimed with the top of her head for the flashlight and went with her right hand for the rifle. She ignored the pain where the flashlight smacked against her skull just before it flew out of the man’s hand and spun on the floor, coming to rest a few feet behind them, shining in the opposite direction.

  The element of surprise was on her side. She jumped back as soon as she had a goo
d hold on the weapon, felt around for the trigger and tried to point the barrel in the general direction of the rebel who had both hands on the rifle now, intent on grabbing it away from her. She brought her knee up, straight to where she thought his groin would be. Judging from the deep groan and the fact that he stumbled backward, she had hit her target. She backed away, desperate to put some distance between them, then shot blindly, moving the barrel from side to side.

  And she still missed.

  He didn’t go down. In fact, he was straightening. She screamed as the man—nothing but a large shadow outlined by the light behind him—lurched toward her.

  BENEDEK HEARD THE GUNSHOTS and heard Rayne scream. That pretty much took care of his plan to bide his time until an opportunity presented itself to overcome the men who held him at gunpoint.

  He’d been counting on them still wanting Rayne only as a hostage. But if the bastards decided to hurt her in any way…

  He turned and launched himself at the men behind him, not caring about pain or injury. He eliminated one of them almost immediately, breaking the guy’s knee backwards as he fell on him and took him to the ground. Benedek managed to grab and bring the others with him, too. And they didn’t dare shoot at him while they were all tangled together.

  The injured man howled in pain, scampering to get away from the rolling bunch. Benedek’s attention had already moved to the other two and getting his hands on a weapon.

  He might have won.

  But someone came down the corridor and by the time Benedek heard the footsteps it was too late. The newcomer butted him with his rifle right in the back of the head.

  He didn’t even see who it was. All he saw was darkness.

  RAYNE RAN FORWARD IN THE TUNNEL, relieved that no footsteps sounded behind her. That last round must have hit the man. She had to catch up with Benedek before he and the men who held him took too many turns and she got completely lost down here. She was almost as scared of that as she was of the rebels killing the prince.