A River of Orange

by Roberta C. M. DeCaprio

  Rule raised his eyes to the pinkish sky, the last shreds of day coming to a rest. “Tell the men we move in one hour."

  Chapter Seventeen

  Meav held tightly to Wesley's hand as he led her through the dark corridor and down the steep staircase. Upon nearing the last step Meav heard Zailia scream.

  She pulled free from Wesley grasp and rushed toward her friend's voice.

  Wesley quickly reached out and pulled her back. “You barging ahead will only spoil the plan to rescue them,” he whispered in her ear.

  Meav took a deep breath to still her nerves. “What plan do you have, sir?"

  "To begin with you must stay out of sight. If Carson or the others see you, hands unbound and walking freely by my side, they will certainly question my loyalty. Then we will all be prisoners,” he explained in a low tone. “There must not be a shred of suspicion on their part or else we will all die."

  Meav gave a taut nod.

  Wesley removed the small dagger hanging from his belt and handed it to Meav.

  She looked down at the weapon, turning it over slowly in her trembling hand.

  Wesley gently pushed a strand of hair from her face. “Can you bring yourself to use it, lass?"

  Meav swallowed hard. “Never have I ever thought of taking a life ... not even an animal's.” Her grandmamma had tried to teach her to kill a hen for the evening meal. But she would always run away and hide; not even after the poor creature's neck had been broken could she stay and watch it being plucked and butchered. How would she be able to lay this dagger deep into human flesh?

  Wesley placed a finger beneath her chin and raised her gaze to his. “I will need your help, lass."

  Meav's voice cracked. “I ... do not know if I..."

  Wesley took her firmly by the shoulders. “'Tis horrid to watch a man breathe his last breath; more so, even, when his life has been snuffed out by the actions of your own hand. This I know to be true from my years of being a soldier. And it never comes easy. But if we are to save your friends a choice has to be made. I cannot do this alone.” He shook her lightly. “Are you with me, lass?"

  Meav's heart pounded in her ears. “Aye, sir.” Quickly she swallowed the nausea rising to choke her. “I am with you ... all the way."

  * * * *

  Pain washed over Zailia's body in hot waves. With hands bound above her head; feet tied and spread apart, she was at the mercy of Carson ... Devora's mad man. With each turn of the grind, the rack stretched her flesh over her bones.

  Carson's eyes shone with his excitement. He smiled, drool moistening his chin. He moved to the head of the rack and looked down at his victim. “Those big, brown eyes are full of pain and fear.” He lowered his face to Zailia's. “I suppose ‘tis time for a little pleasure."

  Zailia quickly turned her face away from her captor's sour breath.

  Carson roughly grabbed her head, returning her gaze upon him. “I have been watching those full tits, stretching and spreading as your arms are pulled, and I am thinking ‘tis about time I do a wee bit of investigating ... as to how pink the nipples are, how hard, how sweet."

  Zailia's breath seemed to have solidified in her throat. “Please ... do not do this."

  Carson's laugh rumbled deep. “I told you that you would no longer be begging for your father's sake."

  With a pang Zailia realized her father had to be near death by now. The thought filled her with sorrow and she could not control the spasmodic trembling within her. “All of you be damned."

  "Damned we are for sure,” Carson repeated in a husky voice. He removed his dagger from his belt and held it to Zailia's neck. “Let the games begin,” he said, cutting loose a button at the neckline of her cotton blouse. “'Tis a game, ‘tis. One little button, then another,” he said, popping off the second round fastener. “Till the delicious bounty lies in full view of my eyes."

  "Having fun, Carson?” Wesley said, entering the chamber.

  Carson glared up at Wesley. “Well, now, I was about to ... till you interrupted."

  "Sorry, but our dear queen wants a word with you,” Wesley said.

  Carson twisted his mouth in anger. “Now ... this very moment?"

  "Aye, that was her orders."

  Carson let out a disgusting breath and replaced his dagger in his belt sheath. “'Twas her orders to do as I wish with this bitch and her father ... and ‘tis what I am doing."

  Wesley shrugged. “Well, orders have changed, and if I were you I would not give her any reason to re-direct her venom elsewhere."

  Carson nodded in agreement. “Aye, like on me."

  "Exactly,” Wesley agreed.

  Carson looked back down at Zailia. “Sorry, my sweet ... will have to leave you here alone for a wee bit while I answer the call of duty.” He roughly squeezed her breasts. “Do not miss me too much.” He threw his head back and laughed.

  Wesley waited until Carson's back was to him before pulling his sword from its sheath and raising it to run the bastard through.

  The sound of a weapon being drawn alerted Carson. In one fluid motion he turned on the younger sentry and blocked the attack. With his bare, muscular arms he overpowered Wesley and pushed him down onto the stone floor.

  Wesley strained against the brute guardsman, his arms trembling as he tried to hold him off. Together they wrestled with the sword, until Carson's right hand became free and the massive fingers curled into a fist, slamming into Wesley's jaw.

  Over and over Carson pummeled Wesley, the younger man's blood staining his knuckles.

  Wesley's body went limp.

  "Get up, Wesley,” Zailia shouted. She knew her only chance lied in Wesley's help.

  Carson raised his fist for the kill, but was stopped cold.

  Meav drove the dagger deep into Carson's back.

  Carson turned slowly around to face her.

  Meav covered her mouth with her hands and backed away.

  With heavy steps Carson came nearer and nearer.

  Zailia screamed again at Wesley. “Get up ... get up ... help her!"

  Wesley shook his head and slowly sat up.

  Zailia pulled at her restraints, her heart pounding within the walls of her chest. “He will kill her ... help her!"

  Meav looked around for something to throw, and found a broken brick. Quickly she bent down to retrieve it, and aimed it at Carson's head.

  The giant of a man swayed backwards, but did not lose his footing. Again he came at Meav.

  Meav looked for something else to hurl at the sentry as she continued to back away from him. ‘Twas then she tripped on a chain link and stumbled.

  Carson had his advantage. He lunged forward, landing on top of her ... trapping Meav with his massive body, and forcing her arms above her head. “Thought you could stop ole’ Carson, hey?” He laughed wickedly. “'Twould take much more than what you have got."

  "How about this, Carson.” Wesley ran the swine through with his sword. After dragging the large sentry off of Meav, he helped her to her feet. “Are you alright?"

  Meav looked up at Wesley's bloodied face. “Are you?"

  Wesley wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Aye."

  Meav rushed to Zailia and began to release the holding pin to slacken the ropes. “Thank heavens we got here in time."

  Zailia shuddered inwardly. “My father, Meav ... do you know what has happened to him?"

  "Nay,” Meav said, her trembling fingers trying to untie a rope from around Zailia's wrist. “We came to your aid first."

  Zailia's stomach clenched in knots. “Then hurry ... please ... we must find him."

  Wesley pulled his dagger from Carson's back, and wiped the blood on the dead man's pant leg. He made his way to Zailia and cut through the ropes. Gently he lifted her from the rack and placed her on her feet.

  Zailia leaned against him, her legs weak; head spinning.

  "Take a moment to steady yourself, lass,” Wesley warned.

  "I have not a moment to waste, sir,” Zailia said. />
  "You are no good to your father like this,” Meav added.

  "I have to get to him,” she protested, but sat down on the stone floor for a moment to regroup.

  Meav looked over at Carson's body and her face paled. She sat down quickly beside Zailia. “Saints preserve us, I have helped in taking a life."

  Wesley knelt down before her. “And have saved two others, lass."

  Zailia reached over and squeezed her friend's arm. “You are very brave, Meav."

  Meav swallowed hard. “I do not feel brave."

  Wesley placed a hand on Meav's shoulder. “Ah, but you are, lass. And I need you to stay brave.” Wesley looked over at Zailia. “You as well, if we are to help your father."

  Zailia nodded and stood. “I am ready.” She looked down at Meav, and extended a hand. “Are you, my friend?"

  Meav stood. “Ready as I will ever be."

  Zailia smiled weakly. “We will both be heroes."

  Wesley handed Meav the dagger, and stole Carson's blade for Zailia. “But you are women."

  "No where is it written only men can be heroes,” Meav said, following Wesley out the door.

  * * * *

  Rule stepped over the borderline, no longer was he in the safe haven of the jungle. For a long moment he stood, looking up at the dusky sky, waiting to see if he would die.

  He did not.

  He felt jubilation in spite of the battle that lay ahead of him. The curse had been lifted, Meav's love for him and his for her had dissolved Devora's spell.

  His men stood silent behind him, all holding their breaths, hoping against hope for his life to be spared. Slowly Rule turned to face them. With outstretched arms he smiled broadly at the loyal bunch. “'Tis over, the curse is gone."

  Silently the men raised their swords above their heads in celebrative cheer.

  Ibrehem made his way beside Rule. Brushing a tear from his eye, he slapped his friend on the shoulder. “Welcome back, my lord."

  Rule inhaled sharply, letting his first moment of freedom wash over him before he commanded his army into battle. “'Tis good to be back.” He looked out amongst the others, and gave them all an encouraging smile. “We will be victorious on this day, and all that belongs to us will once more be ours."

  Again the men raised their weapons in a quiet salute.

  Rule pointed to the soldiers to his left. “You ten take the front side of the castle; make your way through the entrance. You will work your way up, and meet me in the queen's chamber.” He looked over at Ibrehem. “You, my friend will come with me ... as well as Bulwark, Olin and Ustin. We will enter the castle through the garden and up the secret staircase. That route will take us to the queen's chamber.” He narrowed his eyes. “Take no prisoners."

  "What about the rest of us, my lord?” one soldier asked.

  "I will have you remaining men surround the perimeter of the castle, in case anyone tries to escape,” Rule instructed.

  "Aye, my lord,” the rest of the men agreed simultaneously.

  Rule raised his sword. “May our Divine Maker be with you all ... now charge!"

  * * * *

  Zailia cringed, listening to her father's moans. After each crack of the whip, Wesley had to tighten his hold on her arm to keep her from hastening to his aid. “It would be a deadly mistake to leave my side, lass,” he cautioned.

  He pointed to a secluded corner of the corridor. “The two of you hide there until I come for you,” Wesley whispered before making his way into the torture room where Tobiah was being kept.

  As he entered the damp chamber, he nearly heaved from the sight of the poor old man's back ... bloodied and ripped apart by the beating he was receiving at the hands of Devora's guardsman, Kent. Like Carson, Kent enjoyed doling out punishment. Wesley watched the sentry's face contort with pleasure each time he brought the whip down upon Tobiah's flesh.

  "Do you not think he has had enough?” Wesley said coming around to Kent's left side.

  "Not if he is still breathing,” Kent said, raising the whip another time and cracking it across the old man's back. He briefly glanced at Wesley and frowned. “What the hell happened to your face?"

  Wesley wiped his bloody mouth with the back of a hand. “I had a little disagreement with Carson."

  Kent struck Tobiah again with the whip. “Yeah, I have had my share of fights with the bugger as well."

  Wesley held his rage as he watched Tobiah's body swing back and forth from the impact. “The queen has ordered us all to assemble in the great room, so you will have to finish your duties here, later."

  Kent threw down the whip in disgust. “That woman does not know what she wants. With every whim she has we are all made to jump."

  Wesley looked around the room. “Best you keep your opinion of our dear queen to yourself. These walls have ears ... you never know who is listening.” Wesley pointed to Tobiah. “Least you end up like him."

  "Aye, ‘tis the truth, comrade ... and I thank you for keeping my head for me,” Kent remarked, his tone somewhat appreciative. He looked over at Tobiah. “No matter, this one will surely have breathed his last by the time I return."

  Wesley hoped the sentry was wrong, but truth be told, Tobiah had been badly beaten already; there was not much life left in the aged man. He instantly took pity on the prisoner, and his sweet-faced daughter. The maiden had reminded him of Becka, Wesley's own intended. How he missed her, and his home in the mountains on the family goat farm. If not for the steep tax Devora had laid upon the place, Wesley would be working beside his father now, instead of as an indentured soldier trying to save his land.

  Kent made his way toward the door. “'Tis always something around here, a man's work is never done."

  Wesley followed him, feeding into the sentry's gripe. “'Tis long hours for sure you put in Kent, longest of us all, I believe."

  "Aye, you said the truth, my friend,” Kent agreed.

  "After the assembly, why not let me dispose of the old man's remains,” Wesley offered.

  Kent turned to face Wesley. “I would like that, thought later I might have a chance to steal a few moments with Lorna, the lass who helps the cook. She hardly ever has time off as well.” Kent smiled. “Been seducing the wench for quite some time now. Tonight just might be the night I have my way with her.” His smile broadened. “A pretty little thing, she is, with ample bosoms and a real yearning for my looks."

  Wesley patted the sentry on the shoulder. “Then go ... have your chance with the lass ... I will take care of the old man."

  Kent smiled. “I am beholden to you.” He waived his hand aside. “After you."

  Wesley shook his head. “I have a few more sentries to notify about the assembly, but you go on ahead. No sense making the queen mad, single you out and keep you from leaving to be with your sweetie."

  Kent frowned. “And it would be just my luck too."

  Wesley pushed the guard out the door. “Then off with you, man."

  As soon as Wesley saw Kent descend the stairway, he went for Zailia and Meav.

  The three rushed to Tobiah's side.

  Zailia gasped in horror at the sight of her father's bloody body hanging lifeless from one arm. Falling down on her knees she steadied the old man's legs. “Hurry and cut him lose, Wesley."

  With trembling hands Wesley severed the rope around Tobiah's wrist and the three of them gently lowered him to the floor.

  "Ah me, he is barely breathing,” Meav said

  Zailia's tears slipped down her cheeks. “We have got to get him out of here."

  "Help me hoist him upon my shoulders,” Wesley said.

  It was then that Kent returned. “Forgot my whip...” his words stuck in his throat when he spied the women. Frowning, he scratched his head. “Hey what is going on here?” Suddenly he realized what he was witnessing. He reached for his sword and pulled it free from its sheath. “Halt ... all of you ... in the name of the queen!"

  Chapter Eighteen

  Rule led the way, Ibrehem b
ehind him; followed by the other three men. Their silent march led them to the garden wall. Not daring to enter through the gate, the soldiers scaled the six foot stone barrier, quickly making their way to the secret entrance.

  "There are two staircases beyond this door,” Rule explained. “One leads up to the queen's chamber, the other down to the dungeon.” He turned to Olin and Ustin. “You two will take the stairs down and have a look at the situation there. If that is where Tobiah and the women are being kept prisoner, I want you to free them and get them out through the way we have entered."

  "And if they are not there, my lord?” questioned Ustin.

  "Then take the stairs upward and join us with the fight there,” Rule commanded.

  Both soldiers nodded in agreement.

  Rule's eyes narrowed. “And remember ... take no prisoners. I want Devora and her men wiped clean from my castle."

  "Aye,” the men answered in unison.

  Rule reached up and placed his fingers around the halo of the decorative angel that adorned the outer wall. With one twist a small opening appeared just below the tiny statue. Rule crouched low and entered the passage. Once inside he drew his sword and made his way up the stairs. Ibrehem and Bulwark followed, readying their weapons, and the last two made their way down to the dungeon.

  "The wall torches are lit, this leads me to believe this passage has recently been used,” Rule said.

  Ibrehem frowned. “Are you thinking what I am, my lord?"

  "If you are thinking Devora has fled ... then aye,” Rule said.

  Ibrehem's frown deepened. “But how ... how would she know..."

  Rule could feel his rage mount. “She is a witch, my friend ... probably felt my presence in her evil bones."

  "But as far as she is concerned,” Ibrehem went on, “she believes her curse would render you dead if you dared to leave the jungle."

  A sickening thought struck Rule. “Then she has learned of the Prophecy and her men are ready and waiting for us."

  "The only one who could have told her is...” Ibrehem swallowed the rest of his words.