Pushing her into a secret tunnel, they traveled she knew not how long. Every step felt like a mile; every joint in her body shivered and quaked from the cold. His warm hand felt like daggers piercing her skin.
Suddenly they were in the light; he pulled her close to him. Placing his sharpened bloody dagger at her neck, he pulled her into the shadows and slunk into the throne room. It was empty. Standing on the stairs. He waited behind the throne, breathing heavily
The doors burst open and in charged King Aric and forty of his men. All wielding red-stained swords.
“Stop right there, Aric, or I’ll kill your daughter,” Archibald roared.
Aric and his men stopped. Archibald came into full sight, clutching Cassandra closer than his own shadow, the sharp dagger gnawing at her throat. She was a sight, sooty from the smoke; Cassandra was drenched to the skin, her clothes dripping from the rain. Loose strands of her dark hair clung to her face.
“Cassandra!” King Aric cried out, stepping forward.
“Stop right there, or I kill her!”
Aric stopped mid-step.
“You have two options, my dear brother: your daughter or your kingdom. Choose one. You can’t have both. Whatever you don’t choose is mine for keeps.”
“Archibald. Let her go. This is between you and me.”
“No. Her or your kingdom? Take your pick.”
“She has nothing to do with this fight. Let her go and you and I will battle this out like men.”
“Look at your father, Alexandra. Tell him how much you want to live, that you want to grow up. Tell him, tell him.” The sharp knife gouged into her neck.
“No,” Cassandra whispered, struggling for defiance in her weak state.
The knife slid angrily into her throat, making a small painful cut. She gasped in pain and surprise.
“Make your decision wisely, Aric. What I am doing to her is only the beginning of what is to come if I leave with her.”
“Take me in her place.”
“Never.”
King Aric unfastened a glove from his armor and threw it on the ground before Archibald. “I challenge you. You and I will duel for the kingdom. Let her go.”
Archibald sank back. “Who do you think you are, brother? God? No one orders me around. I spit upon you and your honor.”
The men lurched forward to avenge their king. Aric held up his hand to hold them back. A small cry of pain issued from Cassandra’s lips as the dagger bit deeper, sending a trickle of blood down her neck.
“Her or your kingdom—take your pick, or she dies here and now, and then I shall take your kingdom.”
“Archibald. That is not a choice a father should make.” He glanced at his men. None of them had a clear shot with a bow or dagger. Archibald held Cassandra too closely.
“No? Well, it is the one I am giving you. Who is more important? Your ravaged kingdom or your priceless daughter?” he said, pinching her fiercely, causing Cassandra to cry out. She bit her lip, regretting her weakness.
Aric stood there, knowing the answer he must give, but dreading the words he must say.
“Cassandra.” It was her father’s voice, sounding strong and firm.
Cassandra smiled softly at the sound of his voice. It was so reassuring. She knew what was coming. She must prepare her heart; she stored away the sound of his confident voice to give her courage. There was only one choice he could make.
“I know what you have to do, Pappa,” Cassandra whispered.
Their eyes met, his affection so strong, so loving and protective, the sign of tears gathering in his strong blue eyes. She longed to run into his safe arms—to have him hold her next his heart, to hear it beat through his chainmail, to know that all would be safe. But that was to never be. Everything as she knew it was coming to an end.
“Choose the kingdom, Pappa; choose the people. I am just one and they are many,” she whispered hoarsely, her voice almost refusing to obey her.
“Cassie, I love you with all my heart.” The words were so tender. There was a pause before he spoke again his voice strong, bold, decided, and slightly cold. “Archibald. You may have my daughter but not my people. Take her and leave.”
“Then I have your word that you will not attempt to pursue or harm me?”
“You have my word, upon my honor which you so detest. I will not stain it.”
Archibald snorted in triumph. “Will you provide me with protection? Not everyone will know that you have given me your word, and I would rather not have to kill Alexandra senselessly.”
There was a long pause.
“I am your brother, you know.” He reminded Aric tactlessly.
“You have no need to remind me. I know full well what you are to me. To make sure my word is kept,” Aric turned and looked at his men. His eyes met with a few of the warriors from his council. They nodded and stepped forward.
“They will escort you safely out of the city. Then you are on your own. My men shall not follow you.”
The men stepped forward, weapons sheathed, and surrounded them. With a jerk, Archibald pulled Cassandra away with him, keeping the dagger tightly at her throat.
Walking down to the stables, they had to prevent a few attacks on Archibald. Seven steeds were saddled immediately.
Mounting, Archibald moved his foot from the stirrup and nodded for her to mount behind him. Cassandra made a feeble attempt, but she was so weak she made no progress. In frustration, he struck her and she tumbled towards the stable floor.
Keenan caught her in his strong protective arms. Anger flaming in his eyes, his hands clenched and unclenched, fighting the urge to pull out his sword and thrust the Imposter through and through. Were it not for his king’s word, he would have struck the man down and sliced him into pieces. Instead, he pulled Cassandra to her feet, holding her until she stopped trembling. The kind arms about her seemed to breathe life into her. How she wished that they could protect her. She longed for Taleon to be there—to see his confident face once more, for him to make her laugh—to say farewell to her mother and be held in her arms. Her father’s word rushed over her. “Cassie, I love you with all of my heart.” He would be her strength. He would pray for her and she knew it. Tears rose in her eyes, but she willed them away.
“Are you ready, your highness?” asked Keenan tenderly.
“I am,” she shuddered.
With an ease that surprised her, he swung her behind Archibald. As his protecting hands left her, a chill slipped through her. This is my end. When Archibald is finished with me there will be nothing left.
Archibald crossed her chained arms over his shoulders, drawing her close, creating a shield for his back out of her body.
Ducking the low stable doors, they rode out into the court yard of the castle, across the drawbridge, and into the city’s cobblestone streets. One knight led the way, four surrounded them on both sides, and one man brought up the rear guard.
The fighting had ceased. The city was peaceful, trying to pick up the broken pieces of their lives and put them back together. It was still raining, only gently now, like salt-less tears.
Sooner than most wished, they reached the city gates and Archibald broke his steed into a gallop. Bursting past the front guard, he pounded down the road, fleeing.
The men reigned in their horses. “May the Lord God preserve her from him,” murmured Lord Keenan.
“Amen,” chorused the rest of the men almost silently.
Chapter 37
How long they rode, Cassandra did not know as she dipped in and out of consciousness. His body, cruel as it was, slowly began to warm her chilled and weary bones. He pulled the horse to a stop near a deep ravine. Freeing himself from the chain that held her so closely to him, he dismounted, walked to the edge, and looked fearlessly over.
“The river flows directly to Chambria,” he said aloud, striding back to her and pulling her down from the steed.
“What are you going to do?” she asked, trying to get her feet beneath her as he
dragged her towards the edge of the ravine.
“That is for me to know and you to obey.” He let go of her. “Now turn around and kneel.”
“What?” she asked, turning around.
“KNEEL!”
Cassandra carefully lowered herself onto the grassy bank after a backward glance at the steep incline behind her.
“Your father wants you back, you know,” he said, withdrawing his sword slowly, slowly, trying to create a dread and fear within her. At last it was free from its sheath.
“First your head,” he said, touching her neck with the tip of his sword. “And then I will cut you into pretty little pieces to send down river to your father. I think he will like that, don’t you?”
Cassandra didn’t respond. It would break his heart, her mamma’s, and Taleon’s. Why was Taleon’s face suddenly the brightest in her mind? Why did her heart feel so empty—so barren?
“Don’t you?” he repeated the question, twisting the tip of his sharp sword against her Adam’s apple.
“No. I don’t think he would like it.” Her weary bloodshot eyes for the first time met his.
He clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Such a pity. He won’t appreciate my gift, though I am sure he will notice the pains I took with you. Imagine the torture he will go through when they find little pieces of you everywhere. I am sure it will keep him busy for days.”
“What will you do after I am dead?” She couldn’t help but ask.
“Raise another army. I’m not finished with your father yet, though I am finished with you. Now close your eyes.”
Cassandra obeyed. She could feel him drawing back the sword raising it high. He would swing it and then...a shudder passed over her.
God help me please.
Strength flooded her body. She opened her eyes just as the blade began to descend. Her arms raised up to stop the sword. The blade sparked as it crashed into her chains but did not break them.
Archibald was stunned. This was not what he was expecting.
Cassandra wrapped the chains around the tip of the blade and tried to jerk it out of his hands.
He recovered and pulled the sword away at the same time raising Cassandra to her feet.
Archibald swung a mortal blow. She danced toward the edge of the cliff but did not step over. The blade swept toward her; she deflected it with the chains. Pulling away, he moved to thrust her through dead on. She could not move fast enough. A deep gash sank into her right side. The blade withdrew and she moved towards him. Coming face to face, she snatched the dagger from his belt. He stepped back and swung the sword upward. In a moment it was crashing downward.
Cassandra held up her hands to the sky and stepped away. The sword broke the chains in half. The blade breezed past her face, missing her by a hair’s breadth.
He stepped forward to thrust her through. She curved her body, letting the blade pass by her. Thrusting the dagger toward him, she let it fly from her hand.
The dagger sank into his throat. He staggered towards her, trying to gasp for a breath, still swinging his sword at her desperately. Cassandra stepped away. Archibald stumbled, then careened and tumbled over the edge. Numbly she watched. His body made a great splash, but did not reappear. For several minutes she stood, searching for any movement.
“He’s gone. Gone.” Relief swept over her and the adrenaline started to fade. Cassandra realized how close to the edge of the cliff she was. A weak dizzy feeling swept over her and she stumbled towards safety.
Looking down at herself, she realized that she was wounded. The chains had helped, but they were no shield.
Carefully she approached the skittish black steed. “Shh...” she said, gently laying her hand on his neck. He was sweating white foam from his excursion.
“I need your help.” She laid her head against his damp neck as a wave of pain struck her. Cassandra whimpered. Her hands wove into his mane, clutching it for support. The steed stood steadily, his nostrils flaring.
She moved the horse down the gentle slope and stood on the high side. Hopefully this would give her enough of an advantage to mount him without too much trouble.
After much pain and fumbling, she managed to mount the black steed, turning him towards Chambria and urging him forward at a walk, for she could not take the strain of a faster pace. Struggling, she tore lengths from the hem of her dress and bound them around her wounds, pressing her hand against them to stop the bleeding. Her hands slowly grew red and wet with blood. She tore more lengths and pressed them. The bleeding seemed to stop at last, but her head felt so light and dizzy that it was a trial just to see straight, much less keep her eyes open. The pain drove away her power of concentration.
Cassandra was on the ground. How she got there she had no idea, the pain made it impossible to move. She writhed, trying to sit up, but to no avail. Pain pinned her to the ground. Cassandra raised her voice. “Help. Help!” but it didn’t get much beyond a whisper.
Quietly she lay there, too tired to fight, to think, to breathe. God help me please. I can’t go on.
Her eyelids tugged downward and she let them slowly close, too tired to fight.
It was all over. Over.
Over.
Chapter 38
Hours before...
He was hiding in the depths of the forest, a group of a hundred men ready to follow him to life or death.
They were waiting for dark.
Stamping the ground impatiently, he fidgeted. He couldn’t wait to get into the city to make sure that all was well.
Glancing back into the forest, he saw the dim silhouette of King Aric waiting on horseback with another two hundred men. He was holding his head high, but he knew that what had happened that morning had disturbed his sire.
She had come riding into camp: Serena, the queen who had been thought dead for thirteen years.
He would never forget that moment, seeing his king struck beyond words when she rode into camp.
They had looked at each other mutely. Then he ran to her, taking her off the horse and into his arms. They held each other crying, crying so hard they sank to their knees. Taleon thought he had never seen a love so deep, so sweet. Both had waited for the other. Their hearts were still one after years of separation.
Sweeping her into his arms, he had carried her into his tent and tended to her wounds with his own hands. They had been left utterly alone. No one dared disturb them. King Aric reappeared in the early afternoon. His emotions were mixed. There was part of him that was overjoyed; another part, heavy.
“We take it tonight. No matter what,” he had said very simply. That was all.
No one questioned his words or doubted his motives, but questions enwreathed the camp. Where was Cassandra? What was going on? They were to wait until dark.
The word had been passed along in the city to listen for a disturbance along the north wall, then to create a ruckus of commotion and disturbances in the street. Taleon turned back and looked at his men. They were waiting and anxious as he, the drought had made this route of attack possible, the swamp was dried enough for a troop of men to cross. The ladders were ready.
He glanced at the mountains. The light was just fading from them at last. They could move soon.
Twilight fell. The first star showed its face. Taleon moved to the front of his men and motioned them forward until they were out of cover of the forest. “For the King and Country! God save us all. CHARGE!” he had commanded at the top of his lungs, and with a battle cry of a hundred voices, they charged. Sword in one hand and standard in the other, he had been the first to mount the wall, exchanging blow for blow. The city was in an uproar; the sound of battle was everywhere. The wall was taken beneath the colors of King Aric—colors that Cassandra had sewn. As they had called for victory in the name of their king, he couldn’t help but utter beneath his breath Cassandra.
He led the group that opened the North Gate and let King Aric and his mighty troop gallop into the very heart of Chambria. They would take the city
by force.
Taleon looked up at the evening skies. They were still tumbling out a gentle soaking rain. The city had been taken. He glanced toward the castle. The colors of King Aric floated beneath the flag of Chambria. He smiled and headed towards the castle.
The battle had been long. He and his sword had acted as one. Instinct saving his life many a time as he met blade with blade.
He walked, a feeling of weariness creeping upon him, but the joy was too strong in his heart to be beaten down. Taleon sheathed his sword. The closer he got to the castle, the faster his heart beat. He had hopes—hopes to find someone waiting for him.
In all of his misgivings about seeing Cassandra go, he had not doubted once that he would see her again. Even when Queen Serena arrived, something about that gave him hope.
Arriving at the Castle gate, he was greeted by Keenan.
“Good, you are here. I was just about to go looking for you. The King wishes to see you.”
Something in Keenan’s voice made Taleon stop dead in his tracks.
“What is the matter, Keenan?”
“The king is waiting for you in the princess’ chambers.”
“What is it, Keenan?” Taleon’s heart leaped in fear, pounding in his chest.
“Just go.”
Taleon needed no directing. In all the years of planning, he had memorized the castle layout like the lines in the palm of his hand.
He sprinted upstairs and dashed through the hallways, his steps softening when he came to what he knew to be Cassandra’s chambers.
Taleon knocked gently, hoping above all else to hear the soft melodic voice of Cassandra bidding him enter.
“Come in, Taleon.” It was the king’s voice. It was a grave sound, one burdened with disappointment. He hesitated a moment before entering. What awaited him?
“Sire?” he asked, stepping in.
“Taleon, come here.”
“What is it, sire? Where is Cassandra?”
King Aric’s blue eyes met his. The answer in his eyes.
Captive of Raven Castle Page 22
