Trapped with a Way Out

by Jeffery Martinez

Vincent's eyebrow rose in intrigue, "Really." It was not a question, as if he knew the outcome.

  "Don't get your hopes up, Ottoman. I wouldn't think he'd be as forgiving as he was last night," Pip warned, already agitated and feeling as if he were helping prolong the prisoner's death himself.

  "Yes, at the hands of one of his court. Tell me, who was the girl that saved me?" Vincent asked, stepping closer to the bars.

  Pip quickly moved in as well to challenge, "She should not concern you, prisoner. You won't be released from these bars so don't get any ideas."

  Vincent backed off and turned around to look less abrasive. That matter could be solved later. He wanted more information about the Lord and his intentions at that moment.

  "Of course," Vincent answered, "Send the Lord my regards, but fear I won't, as you say, make it out of the dungeon to speak with him."

  "Nonsense, idiot," Pip scoffed, "The regent-governor is coming to talk with you right now in the dungeon. And I hope that, for his sake, he has an attack of conscience."

  Vincent smiled; it must certainly be a bigger deal than he originally thought, because the ruler was coming to him.

  "Now if you try anything, and I mean anything, your head will be on a pike before the hour is up," Pip threatened, and to add affect he took out his sword and jutted it up in the sky.

  "Wouldn't dream of it," the prisoner shook his head and watched Pip turn around, signifying the end of their short conversation. As the guard's back was turned, Vincent grinned.

  "Seriously, my Lord, you should reconsider this problem. Shorten his sentence, release him back to the Ottomans, something!" Walter begged.

  "My dear servant, I told you. His information is too valuable to waste. We have a common enemy: the Ottomans," the regent continued as Walter inhaled, "And if not that, then we are definitely both hungry for more territory, and he has the tactics to achieve this within our grasp."

  "Your Lordship, this man has been raised under the Qur'an, he is one of their highest ranking soldiers, and his brother is the newly dubbed and honored Radu, or as they call him, 'Radu Bey'," Walter pointed out.

  The Lord sighed and turned to completely face the servant, "Walter, I will let you know when I've changed my mind. You will be one of the first to know. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a prisoner to speak with," he turned back around and pushed the double doors open.

  Walter bowed his head in submission and held his tongue. He recognized when the regent had reached his limit and retracted himself back to his duties. His first mission: making sure that the two girls had not wandered far from their bed chambers.

  Lord Rodriguez passed the servant and caught up with the regent, but not before sharing a sympathetic look with Walter. The Royal Advisor walked loyally next to his superior as they made their way down stone corridors and through more massive doors. Every step he took made him closer to a traitor in Rodriguez's eyes. But the faithful man stood close to his ruler; doubting his ruler at a time when Ottomans were strengthening themselves was not acceptable.

  "Pray that this ends well," the Lord turned to Rodriguez.

  The Royal Advisor smiled; and though it was forced, the action brought a sliver of hope into his heart. The two men then opened up the last double doors and into the sunlight, the dungeon just a corner away.

  "My Lord, promise me that if this does not end well, you will take the prisoner's life. We cannot trust him to be set free, and he cannot go back to his empire or they will know how to get here undetected as he did," Rodriguez stated with full force.

  The man nodded, "I agree. This will either work or it won't. If it does not, he will not be spared."

  A moment passed where both walked along the stone pathway and to the last set of doors before the dungeon. Rodriguez and the Lord exchanged glances and took a breath. Then, the advisor opened the doors and stepped inside.

  Filth followed with rats and birds picking the leftovers from the nearest body in its cell. The regent had inherited through the king Devine Right and Absolute Power to never let people admitted into the dungeon out. Most of the time, he never bothered to hear their deceitful stories and let them ultimately rot in their cell until nothing was left but bones. However, there were exceptions to this, and this 'Sir Vincent' was one.

  Pip stood up and knelt as he saw the ruler arrive with his advisor. The regent nodded and walked straight up to the bars of the cell. Vincent was sitting down and made no motion to stand and bow to his superior. Rodriguez's blood began to boil the longer Vincent stayed sitting, and it almost reached a tipping point as the prisoner dared to smile mockingly.

  "You do not recognize your ruler when he stands in front of you?" Rodriguez raised his voice dangerously.

  "I do not believe I obtain one who will have me," Vincent answered, but did not take his eyes off of the Lord.

  "Indeed, I heard you were quite the rebel. They had to use physical force to put you into submission," the governor smiled, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

  "I am, first and foremost, a soldier. But it takes more than just orders to conquer a man's devotion," Vincent replied, still sitting.

  "Faith, I know. But I do not think you have faith in your religion anymore. Is that true?"

  Vincent chuckled, "In Islam. How could I, after what I've seen them do? And yet, sometimes I wonder if you were ever any different."

  Rodriguez growled and took a step closer, "What does that mean, boy? Christianity isn't ruled by savages, it is by the will, faith, and love of our Savior, Jesus Christ and God!"

  Vincent finally separated his gaze from the Lord and looked the Royal Advisor over, "And the rulers who, I suppose, represent God through their Devine Right can be corrupt in their judgments as well."

  "What do you mean?" the ruler asked, equally agitated.

  The prisoner finally stood, causing a number of silent guards to place their hands on their swords. Vincent closed in until he finally weaved his fingers through the bars of his cage, staring into the eyes of the regent.

  "You would know, my Lord. November, 1447, Wallachia; an attack on her was made by you in league with the King of Hungary. Radu and I were fortunately not there, but my brother Mircea was not so fortunate. I heard, years later, that he was blinded with a red hot poker before being buried alive, and a short time after my father was captured and killed by the forces of John Hunyadi, the man who stands before my eyes now," Vincent stated, not once blinking.

  The Lord's face grew red with anger, "They and you were in league with the Ottoman Empire, and if you were a part of the Order, you would go after what threatens it. Your family was a threat, your father promised his loyalty to Islam. As insurance that this was the truth, he sent you and your younger brother to Edirne. He betrayed his faith in God, and in his family!"

  "All because you and the King, years before, refused to assist him against the Ottomans!" Vincent's voice rose as well, "We fought their forces with all of the numbers we could spare, but it was not enough, not nearly enough. My father asked for your help and the King's help, begged for it! And each time, he was sent back to Târgoviște; each time he was humiliated by his faith, by the King he was trying to love and follow. You shunned him, you shunned us in our hour of need, and because of that you see me today: a broken man with broken faith!"

  The room fell silent. Only rats scurrying to their holes made sounds within the pause. Rodriguez felt his body tense, but not in anger; in sorrow. The raging fire in Vincent's eyes flickered, ever fed by the presence of the Lord in the dungeon. The Royal Advisor glanced at his ruler and was shocked to see no expression on his face. But Vincent suddenly laughed raucously. The throaty laugh caused Rodriguez to flinch, wondering if the prisoner had finally gone mad with rage and hate. That was all that was left in this man, Rodriguez could tell. And the worst kind of anger that was fueled by hate and rage was none other than vengeance.

  "So, you're wondering if I am loyal to this Crown," Vincent paused and grinned, "As you can see, I am forced to pick the le
sser of two evils in my heart. One: the betrayal Christianity has shown me. Two: the horrors and abuse Islam taught me."

  "Son," the ruler murmured.

  "A great decision, indeed," Vincent continued, "But I think I've made my choice."

  "Son!" the regent shouted, "Believe me, it was not my wish to kill your father, nor did happiness follow when he died. But he was a traitor to his faith. He could have chosen to die with honor, he could have led his men one last time into battle, he could have died a hero. But he chose to deal with the Devil, and he paid dearly for that."

  "As did his innocent, young, children," Vincent's voice added, black with acid that seemed to dry up his words.

  The regent paused again and nodded, "As did his innocent, young, children. And for that, I truly am...sorry."

  Pip's eyes widened and so did Rodriguez's. Both had never heard the Lord openly apologize, to a stranger, a prisoner, an Ottoman no less. The act did not seem compatible with the scene at all, and Pip choked until he coughed, not for a minute believing what he saw. But the ruler raised his hand before objections were made and profanities thrown. The room fell silent once more, and the governor stepped closer to the bars.

  "My decision," Vincent stated, "Is to choose the Order of the Dragon. I have always tried to fight loyally for it. Ask the Ottomans who stood in my way to come here. All of their lives were taken in the name of the Order. I will always stand by it, and since its inherited ruler stands before me now, I choose to ally myself with Hungary and her people."

  The regent-governor let out a small sigh and nodded, "I accept the reconciliation. You will be a soldier under my command now, and I expect you to follow orders obediently and swiftly. If you falter, or refuse once, I will have our head. You will also tell us tactics and tell us exactly how the Ottomans fight, how to fight back, and how to defeat their armies. Show us their weak spots, prove your knowledge, and I will guarantee your life will be spared. Is that understood?"

  Vincent grinned and knelt, "Yes, my Lordship."

  The ruler smiled, "Then, Pip, grab this man some food to eat and water."

  Pip's mouth dropped but managed to unglue his feet from the filthy ground and somehow made his way out of the dungeon.

  The Lord turned to other guards, "Release this man. See to it that he is stationed with the other soldiers in their tents and get him a sword and shield with a helmet."

  "My Lord," Rodriguez stated, "What of the plan we discussed?"

  "Ah, the bait?" the regent whispered, "Yes, all in good time. He will fall for it. He will follow my command because the offer I will give him he won't refuse. It will seal our bond to one another. Fear not; this is all in good time, my advisor," the man reassured.

  Three weeks. It had been three weeks since Richard was allowed to step foot off of the castle grounds. She was forbidden to leave the castle, then forbidden to leave the west wing, then forbidden to leave the hallway, and then forbidden to leave her room, aside from going into her special washroom. The governor, her father, had become completely obsessed with controlling his new pet: Vincent, and was determined to make sure that he couldn't even put a toe out of line. So far, so good. His soldier-servant had complied with every order, first in dealing with outside quarreling villages, and then slowly to outside breaches in his borders by the Ottomans. With every success report, the regent-governor grew more and more drawn to the possibility of using Vincent.

  Richard knew, as of right now, that Vincent was still being tested; and as far as she knew Vincent didn't mind being tested. His loyalty was not in question for himself, so why should he care if others felt that he was traitorous? It would only take time to show them that they were wrong, and Vincent had all the time he needed. He was patient, calculating, and always prepared with a quick remark that saved him. That, above all else, was why Richard didn't want her father thinking up ways to use him. She didn't even trust her father's judgment in using his new powerful tool, even if it was to destroy the Ottomans that threatened Hungary's borders every day.

  Richard wanted to call the shots herself. She was skeptical that anyone else could handle it, but she knew that anyone she talked to, even Walter, would laugh at the thought of a woman controlling Vincent.

  Perhaps that was why Richard thought it might work. An equal balance of cunning deception and unforgiving bloodshed. Richard knew she could provide both of those freely, if, that is, she were in a position of power.

  Richard sighed as she rested her head on her fluffy pillow, drowning out the last bits of William's complaints of being cooped up. Richard would wait, she would be patient. She knew that there would have to be a way to turn the tables in her favor. Like Vincent, she had a sharp tongue of her own, and, like Vincent, she had all the time in the world to prove them wrong, that she could rule.

  "Richard, I'm talking to you," William waved a hand in front of her older sister's blank face. It animated immediately into an expression of annoyance.

  "Isn't there something that you could do that would not require talking?" Richard batted William's hand away and rolled over on her mattress.

  William considered her comment for a moment, "I could stare off into space and day-dream about sneaking out of the castle, like what you're doing."

  Richard laughed. Her sister was wrong, but it was a good guess. Any rambunctious 14-year-old girl's mind should be centered on thinking only one step ahead.

  "I was hoping more that you could braid your hair, try on a few dresses, or sketch something outside. You're wonderful at drawing," Richard pointed out.

  William smiled, "I know…fine. What would you like me to draw?" she asked, reaching for a quill and an inkpot.

  Richard scanned the room and nodded with her head, "Why don't you draw that dress hanging from your closet?"

  William shook her head, "No, that's too boring. Try something that is not inanimate."

  Richard exhaled in exasperation and glanced at her window. "Ok," she grumbled and managed to pick herself up off of her comfortable bed and dragged herself to the beautiful archway of her window that had a certain gothic style to it.

  "Like a tree, the Zlasti River, at least something that moves outside in the wind," William began to make her way over to the window with a small stool.

  Richard focused her eyes outside and scanned the river, perusing its shimmering water in the sunlight until her eyes fell upon the tents of soldiers lining up. She looked them over, wondering which dressed man was Sir Vincent, wondering if his latest mission to crush an infested village on Hungary's border had turned successful as well. She watched each man crawl out of their tents, but her attention was completely swept up when the sound of a soldier with a trumpet flared in the wind. Someone very important was arriving.

  The elder hushed her little sister as she gripped the stone frame of her window and stuck her head entirely out. Horses and men bearing the flag of Hungary were entering the castle grounds, its soldiers hollering and waving with their fists in the air. Richard saw the faces, she knew exactly what this was: a victory. She strained her eyes as the last horse came limping in with an injured rider. His helmet was off, and she immediately recognized his black hair and pale skin. Two soldiers on either side were holding up the horse's reins from it falling over. Richard covered her mouth as she saw blood seeping from both the rider and the steed. She whirled around to face William before she even had a line to say.

  "What, what is it?" William grabbed her sister's hands.

  Richard's mouth opened but nothing came out. Instead, she rushed for the door and slammed her body's weight into it, already knowing it was locked.

  "Damnation!" she cursed.

  "Richard, what is going on?" William's voice rose to almost a squeak.

  The elder sister turned back around, "If I know anything about horses, it's that the stable headmaster will shoot the injured horse before it even has a chance to recover. I won't let that happen. I recognize that horse. I helped to train it when it was only a colt, and I will not let t
hat horse's talent go to waste!"

  "Who is it?" William gasped, already knowing the answer.

  "It is Hadúr!" Richard kicked the door. Locked. She threw William's stool at it and then slammed herself into it.

  Locked.

  "Which careless rider was atop that mount?" William seethed, remembering the entire summer that Richard had spent with the baby, training him into the magnificent animal he was -her pride and joy.

  Richard looked back at her, "Sir Vincent…" she stated almost apologetically and turned back around to hit the door again.

  "Richard, why don't you do something a little more practical?" William stated.

  Richard thought for a moment and an idea came to her. She rushed for a candelabra and broke off the skinny arms. She took the sharp broken part and made her way to the door. Taking the arm of it and stabbing in through the keyhole and wrenching in from side to side, she tried to unlock the door from her prison. William tried it herself, but the door wouldn't open. Both sisters decided that they would each grab one broken arm and push it through the keyhole and try to yank the door free. Richard inserted the broken arm into the hole, as did William, and they worked at trying to pull the latch off. Richard was about to give up when she heard a metallic click and the door flew open. Air rushed in from the other side and both girls were flung backward and into the floor with a thud.

  "Well, that was fun..." William stood up first, brushing imaginary dust off of her dress and faced Richard, "What would you like me to do?"

  Richard poked her head out of the door. Two guards were stationed at the end of the long hallway on the left, but the stairs she needed to run to were closer and to the right of the door. Richard waved William over and pointed to the guards, "Do you think you can distract them for me so that I can sneak by?"

  William took one look at the guards and smiled, "That's all?" she grinned and ran down the left side of the pathway.

  Guards shouted her name and began to chase her, but William was faster than their armored bodies and agilely turned corners, gripping their columns for support and momentum. Right as the two fools ran out of sight, Richard snuck out of the room and began stepping down the never-ending staircase.