by Connie Ward
"Stop her!"
There came the whine and screech of ancient ironworks as the men struggled to close the gate, but it was too late to stop. The horse bolted straight for the soldiers. A few, seeing I hadn't slowed my charge, dove for cover, but the rest held their positions. The latter, I'm afraid, got trampled.
Keeping my head low on my mount's neck, I thundered beneath the arch as the portcullis was midway down. It crashed to the ground behind me, too quick for anyone to cross before it. The captain's cry changed to “Raise the gate! Raise the blasted gate!"
Slowing to a canter, I threw back my head and laughed in triumph, my cloak whipping out behind me.
But my euphoria did not last long. Halfway across the park I heard the alarm raised. I glanced over a shoulder to see a knot of horsemen charge from the castle and head in my direction.
I urged the stallion into a fresh gallop.
We streaked through the park, my white steed and I, as brilliant as a diamond in the nighttime sky. I'm sure my pursuers had no trouble keeping us in sight. Upon reaching the forest fringe, I paused to check the horsemen's progress. I heard rather than saw them, the clang of armour and jangle of harness a deafening cacophony to my ears.
I darted into the sanctuary of the forest, where I hoped I could lose them. Instead, I lost myself. It soon became the longest night of my life.
CHAPTER FIVE
I had not realized the enormity of the forest until now. Its dark maw engulfed me, though I had ventured only a few dozen yards inside. Dense foliage made footing treacherous. When the charger blundered onto an overgrown deer path I gave him free rein in the hope it might steer us clear of the bush into country I recognized.
I rode with my sword across my lap.
Time seemed ethereal in this netherworld of gloom, where the glow of the full moon barely penetrated. I couldn't tell whether hours or minutes passed, everything was so still and silent. The forest canopy obliterated the stars, my sole source of navigation. Soon I lost my bearings entirely, following the wretched deer trail, yet having no idea where it led. Though I detected no sign of pursuit, I did not lessen my caution, for I couldn't be sure that I did not just wander in circles. Every tree looked the same, every thorn bush and dead stump.
But I was far from alone. Fear and dread were constant companions. I flinched at the horse's every stumble or whenever a twig cracked under hoof. I tried to invoke a mindspell of protection, weaving it strong with threads of terror and desperation. Of course I had no way of knowing whether or not it worked, unless the absence of pursuit thus far was any indication. Nevertheless, I couldn't maintain my concentration, as every owl hoot and creak from a branch instantly scattered my thoughts.
Then I heard a sound that made my blood run cold; a low rustle rippled out toward me. I paused, every sense alert as I strained to identify other noises emanating from the tangle of growth. Uneasy, the charger grunted and flattened his ears. Despite my soothing words, he only grew more agitated. Too slowly I recognized the sound as the hushed voices of men. Although I should have bolted at the first sign of danger I'd dithered instead. Now, it was all I could do to gather the reins in my trembling hands and try to sneak away.
There was a shout, then a great hue and cry, as men on horseback crashed through the underbrush. In no need of prodding, the stallion leapt forward. Ignoring the narrow path he chose the most direct route and charged into the foliage with Uncle's soldiers bellowing in pursuit.
Brambles raked the horse's flanks and low boughs battered my helm, obscuring my vision. I caught only glimpses of huge hardwoods, their gnarled limbs seeming to open in embrace as I flew past. Panic distorted my perception. Each sapling that sprung up was a soldier reaching for me, each thicket a crouching man. Hanging creepers threatened to knock me from the saddle. My imagination ran wild, turning shadows into concealed soldiers ready to pounce.
Clinging to my mount as he careered through the undergrowth, I willed strength into the spell. Indeed my terror was so great I should be invisible. But my pursuers kept coming, baying at my heels.
Oh, they were relentless! Twice, I lost them in the forest cover and slowed my panicked horse for much needed stealth—listening, watching, hoping. But each time, I heard them nearby, blundering through the bushes on all sides. And each time, they caught sight of me, my white stallion shining like a beacon in the gloom, to resume the hunt with renewed fierceness.
I can't say how long the chase lasted. An eternity it seemed. Nor had I any idea where I was, though the vegetation looked a little less dense and the trees more widely dispersed. Finally, just as a ray of predawn light seeped between the trunks off to my right, indicating the forest edge, my pursuers overtook me.
Flanking me, horsemen attempted to dislodge me from my seat. They knew I wouldn't come easily, but I don't think they were prepared for the savageness with which I resisted them. My blade swept out, cutting down the rider to my left. Veering sharply, I drove the stallion into the horse on my right, smashing its rider against a sturdy elm. All to no avail. I was surrounded.
There were a dozen altogether, members of the Fourth Royal, judging by their colours. Greatly outnumbered, I opted for diplomacy.
"I warn you,” I announced in a strong voice, “I won't go back to Uncle willingly. Spare yourselves the trouble and let me pass unhindered."
To my amazement they all looked at one another and laughed. A couple even dismounted. Their mirth subsided, however, when the leader barked from his mount, “Drag the bitch off her horse."
I was astonished that any soldier of Castle Gryphon would address me with such insolence. I became even more astonished as the two unmounted guards proceeded to do their commander's bidding. When the nearest tried to lay hands on, I kicked him into a thornberry bush, then brandished my sword at his companion. Wisely, the man backed away.
"How dare you speak to me so?” I demanded of the officer. “Uncle would have your head if he knew."
The officer ignored me. I could see nothing of his face, hidden behind his helm, nor did I recognize the voice despite its familiar ring. Sparing a glance at the pair of dead soldiers, he drawled, “Come now, boys. The sooner you unseat her, the sooner the fun can begin."
The remark proved to be of some incentive to the others, for the trio of horsemen behind me urged their chargers closer. The thick undergrowth and proximity of the trees allowed me no room to manoeuvre on horseback, making any attempt to break their circle impossible. Thus, it appeared my best position of defence was on foot.
Jumping to the ground, I situated myself so only the corpses were behind me. A threatening lunge forced the chargers to retreat and a menacing gesture held the unhorsed soldier at bay. “Call off your dogs before someone else dies,” I spat at the officer.
He glared at me through the narrow slits in his helm. “Drop your sword, Kathedra. You cannot stand against us."
That was all too obvious to me, but I was determined to do whatever I must to avoid going back to Uncle. Not once did I entertain the notion they would do me serious harm, for they would suffer grievously at Uncle's hands if I returned to him injured.
"Fools! I will fight you to your deaths."
The officer motioned to the horsemen at his side. “Take her weapon."
They dismounted and advanced, swords drawn. I braced myself, blade held at the ready, and waited for someone to make a fatal move. They approached with caution, respecting my skill with the sword. None of them wished to die for the sake of my capture.
The boldest of the lot rushed me. He braved a formidable thrust, but his aim was too high and slightly wild. I got two hands on my hilt and blocked the blow. Sparks ignited. I broke off and leapt back as he darted in low. Again I parried effortlessly. He feinted right, but I had anticipated the move and did not try to intercept. Instead I slid aside and drove my blade deep into his torso. Staggering, he let out a yelp, which I cut short with a thrust through the heart.
The other two circled me warily, then advanced t
ogether. I met the taller man first, who possessed the longer reach, turning his blow and sidestepping his companion's lunge. I felt my hair stir as his steel whizzed past my temple. The former recovered and got in a couple of good whacks before I slipped under his guard and punched my sword through his thigh. He toppled like a giant oak.
The next was altogether a better swordsman, his blows coming fast and hard. I parried furiously, retreating farther into the brush with every swing of my arm. Once, I dodged him too slowly and his blade sliced into my sleeve, nicking my elbow. Pain lanced through me; I welcomed its presence, hoping it would provoke a telekinetic response. An earth-shattering tremor perhaps, or at the very least a violent whirlwind. But ... Nothing. My powers were so diluted I could not summon an ounce worth to save my life.
Meanwhile, my opponent continued to rain blows down upon me. We exchanged an exhausting volley. When his recovery grew sluggish, I took the opportunity for a low feint. He faltered, hesitated just a moment too long, and my blade swooped up to meet his jugular.
I stepped away just as another horseman approached, but I held his skittish gelding at arms length with my gore-drenched sword. Before I could catch my breath, someone grabbed me from behind and wrenched my sword arm back, an elbow locking across my throat. Damn, I'd forgotten that soldier in the prickly bush.
"Drop the blade."
Choking, gasping, I tossed my sword to the ground.
My captor relaxed, his arm slackening around my neck. I still had one free hand. Before anyone could shout a warning, I snatched the dagger tucked under my shirt and stabbed his leg. He screamed, his grip loosening enough for me to twist and drive the knife up between his ribs. As he slumped to the mossy floor, I turned and ran, plunging through the brush like a madwoman.
"Seize her, you useless curs!” the officer raged. “Seize her!"
Blood-smeared knife in hand, I broke free of the forest. Frantic, I paused to collect my bearings. A red ball of fire teetered on the horizon, and I realized it was the rising sun. My desperate flight had deposited me on the eastern edge of the forest. Below the gentle rise wound a desolate tract. If I could just make it to the road, it may take me to a village or...
"There she is!"
A backward glance saw soldiers emerging from the trees. I sprinted for the bleak ribbon of road ... but to what avail? The highway provided no traffic where I might lose myself, no pedestrians who may come to my aid. Perhaps it even hid lurking Crusaders, who then would have us all in their stewing pot.
The thunder of hooves drummed through me. Though I knew I couldn't outrun the horses, I lengthened my stride, for the moment still free. Nevertheless, the charger quickly bore down on me. I heard its snorting breath, the mad laughter of its rider. I swerved repeatedly, but the country was too open and the horse overtook me with ease.
As the gelding drew alongside, its rider leaned down in the saddle to scoop me up. I flailed out with my dagger and got in a telling blow, the steel biting deep into my assailant's arm. He screeched in surprise, promptly losing control of the reins. We toppled to the ground and rolled clear of each other. Knocked breathless, I looked up to spy the gelding prancing ten feet away. Hope rising, I crawled towards it.
Then something closed around my ankle, squeezing, hurting. Crazy laughter drifted out behind me. “Got you! I got you!"
Rolling onto my back, I lifted my free leg and bashed the man two or three times in his snout. But the bastard hung on, grinning like an idiot.
Miraculously I still retained my blade. I stabbed at the oaf, only to have him release my leg and snatch my arm instead. Throwing all his weight atop me, he slammed my wrist against the rocky ground until the knife flipped out of my hand.
I was dragged to my feet and shoved up the slope ahead of him, all the while treated to his lewd commentary.
We met the officer riding towards us. He vaulted from the saddle before his horse had even stopped. “Give her to me."
My captor pulled up short, his fingers gouging the flesh of my arm. “But, sir,” he whined. “I caught her. I should—"
"Shut-up. She's my catch. My prize. I want her to know who brought down the mighty Gryphon Highlord before you hounds scramble her wits. Now hand her over."
The soldier grunted something and shoved me into his superior's arms. Though I struggled, the man held me to him in a bone-crushing grip. He tore free my helm and threw it to his sullen underling as the rest of his henchmen loped into view.
A gloved hand stroked my cheek, then brushed a tangle of hair from my face. “Ahh, the fair, the proud Kathedra,” he whispered. “Still beautiful in all her defeat."
That voice. I knew it, I was certain. A voice I should recognize, but one I was unable to identify. Even now.
Unflinching, I met the dark eyes peering out from behind the visor. “Unmask yourself, you coward."
When he pulled off his helm, I gasped in disbelief. “Averi?"
How ironic that out of all the men who could have been charged with my capture, Averi had won the draw. My nemesis. There was some very negative energy flow between us, although for my part it wasn't personal.
Averi and Valleri were once rivals for the position of my second. While both were skilled swordsmen and able strategists, Averi was too arrogant and brutal for my liking, so I gave the position to Valleri. Chiverly, however, had wasted no time snapping up Averi for his own Royal. I had no cause to believe Averi would be especially pleasant towards me.
"You were wrong to choose Valleri over me,” he breathed into my ear, clutching me tighter. “You shouldn't have done that. Val, too, was wrong to keep you all to himself. He will pay. You both will."
His words alarmed me, implying he was in a position to threaten me without risk of reproach from Uncle. But I refused to reveal any sign of that fear to Averi. I matched his murderous stare, repulsed by the hatred in his eyes. His face, the mere sight of which was enough to make the castle wenches swoon, was hard like flint. There was no mercy, no forgiveness, in that iron expression.
He bent closer, his long black hair grazing my face, his breath hot against my cheek. The stench of perspiration and stale mead smothered me. I clung to the idea that he was merely toying with me, trying to scare me, with no intent of actual harm.
Averi pulled me to him in a vulgar pose and his hands fumbled beneath my cloak. Recoiling at his touch, I gathered my nerve and reached down into the well, groping for one last tendril of power.
"Unhand me, sir,” I said, managing some venom, “or I'll—"
"You'll what? Hurl a fireball at me? Command the earth to open up and swallow me?” Averi laughed, a harsh sound containing no mirth. “Your demon powers are dead, Kathedra. Without them you are nothing. You hear me? Nothing. How does it feel to be worthless? Helpless? Now you know how it was for me, rejected and scorned by you, forced to watch you play the whore with Valleri, yet unable to do anything about it. Now, Kathedra, it's my turn. Powerless, beaten, you cannot stop me."
That was true. The well was apparently dry. Not a drop of power remained.
Hoping to instil the terror of my uncle I attempted to reason with the lout. “Averi, I urge you not to do anything rash. Harm a hair on my head and Uncle will make you regret it. If you release me now, however, I shall neglect to mention my mistreatment and allow you to take me back to Castle Gryphon with no further resistance."
"Take you back?” Averi sneered. “Who said anything about taking you back? Our orders, straight from Bertrand's mouth, are to stop you, Kathedra. Stop you any way we can.” His sneer stretched into a malevolent grin. “If that means putting an arrow in your back, then so be it."
"Uncle would never issue such orders. You lie."
"Our orders are explicit. Under no circumstance should you be allowed to fall into enemy hands. Why, a Crusader could pop up any minute! Bertrand can't let you turn traitor. And he certainly won't permit you to roam around unleashed. Believe me, Kathedra. I can take you back to Gryphon, where you'll rot a slow death in her d
ungeons ... but I am not without mercy."
Snatching a fistful of hair, he pulled my head back to whisper close to my cheek, “Behave yourself, Highness. Don't fight me too hard. Afterward, I'll let you live.” Then his lips clamped over mine.
Though stunned by his words, I hadn't lost my wits entirely. I tried to squirm free, succeeding only in cleaving myself closer. Distasteful as it was, I had no choice but to bite him.
Averi pulled away, blood dribbling down his chin, and dealt me a vicious backhand. I hit the ground hard, the air once again sucked from my lungs. Leering down at me, he wiped his mouth with a fist and said, “I've always wanted to do that, Kathedra.” He removed his gauntlets, then his sword belt. “And something else, too."
His men gathered in a semicircle to chant and shout crude suggestions. I got an inkling of what heinous crime Averi was about to commit, and was horrified. The beast was going to dare Uncle's wrath for the chance to make me sorry I'd ever spurned him. I'd sooner go back to Uncle, begging his forgiveness on my hands and knees, than endure Averi's idea of mercy.
Averi fell upon me, pinning my arms above my head. His body covered mine as his hands groped and tore at my clothes. I remained motionless just long enough for him to think I wasn't going to resist. Then I brought up my knee.
He rolled away, groaning and clutching at himself. I scrambled to my feet, swung in the direction of the road but again his brutes were there to block me. They caught me easily enough, and proceeded to bounce me around some, amusing themselves until their leader recovered from his paralysis. Laughing, jeering, they flung me back into his arms. Dazed from the abuse suffered at his minions’ hands, I barely noticed the blows Averi delivered. Satisfied I was beaten into submission, he shoved me once more to the ground.
Shutting out the taunts of the soldiers I heard only the creak of Averi's leather, my eyes squeezed shut. Then, miraculously, just as I expected the worst, something struck Averi with such force, it lifted him into the air and flung him against the trunk of the nearest tree, knocking him cold.
