Trapped with a Way Out

by Jeffery Martinez

  "But by the same token, he is irrational as well, as you experienced firsthand. He hides well behind a visage of rationality. In truth, he is anything but," Walter countered.

  "Yes, and that is why I cannot place my finger on him and dissect him. He is different…sometimes beyond my level of comprehension."

  Walter's eyes widened at her soft confession and exhaled, "He is worse than I thought, fooling even you," he made his limping way across the room to Richard and reached for her hands, "This is why you must meet Victor. He will be better for you, keep you stable, and keep you calm. All of this anxiety…it's unnerving and unnecessary. He feeds off of your imbalance -revels in it. You must resist him, and you must move on. If you cannot find a way, I fear no one will."

  Richard's posture straightened slightly, receptive to the challenge, "Hmm, a battle of the minds, then. This should prove engaging," she grinned and chuckled.

  Walter bowed and showed her to the door, "I expect the dinner to be nothing less than delicious, since I helped prepare it earlier. Now go, and make me proud, not Lord Rodriguez. Do it for your kingdom."

  Richard agreed, "I shall. For you, Walter. My steadfast servant. My even keel. The rock to my conscience. This performance..." she raised her hands to introduce herself as if she were on stage, "...I dedicate to the only man in my life I could ever unconditionally trust," Richard said before curtsying in front of a grinning Walter and closing the door.

  Vincent grunted as he finally began to fall off of Hadúr. Shaking his head angrily until it hurt, he whispered to himself that he had no time to stop and rest. After riding for a good couple of hours, he knew Ladislaus would not make it in time, and sadly, neither would he. Now, it had been a day -a day of riding most hours at a hellacious gallop, racing back to the castle like a bat out of hell.

  "I…won't…make it…too l-late", Vincent whispered as he caught a glimpse of the castle. His safe haven -too far away, but just close enough to fall within reaching distance. Oh, the sick joke that God was playing at.

  After the initial rush of adrenaline ebbed away, Vincent noticed that he was hit as well. Fortunately, it was in the leg, so he did not immediately sense the poison take over his body. After a few hours though, he began to feel immensely tired, as if time was slowing down and that every step he took closer to the castle was more like an eternity. He soon lost some sensation in the leg, and before long his entire side went numb. Cursing his bad fortune, he paused for a moment and dismounted, laying Ladislaus down on the grass with the last of his strength.

  "Damnation, this leg. It's senseless," Vincent shook the prince, "Ladislaus. You must refrain from falling asleep, lest you never wake…Ladislaus!"

  The prince roused and his eyes fluttered open, "Oh…" he said softly, "Vincentimir, I cannot feel my body. I am completely limp."

  "The poison," Vincent bandaged his leg tightly from allowing it to spread quickly and cut off more circulation than it already had, "It's Hemlock; I recognize it. It spreads inward, numbing the patient until the heart is paralyzed and you die."

  Ladislaus's breathing became labored, "W-what? You mean you used it on people?"

  Vincent snorted, "I read in Edirne. I read of the symptoms in Ibn Wahshiyya's Book of Poisons. He was a ninth century historian who was one of the first to decipher ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs and-" Vincent groaned in pain, "Ack, never you mind."

  "You are…very well read and educated…" Ladislaus regarded the man in a new light.

  "Contrary to popular belief," Vincent eased his back on an old and rotted tree trunk, "The Ottoman Empire is a beacon of affluence and education. We've housed some of the most profound mathematicians and historians this world has ever seen. Christianity, through brute force and sheer numbers, has prevailed, much to the Empire's dismay. They see Christianity as tribalistic in nature compared to the high society living and cultured environment I grew up in," he chuckled, "They see you as barbaric in nature, but merely a thorn in their side, and they intend to pluck it out."

  "Barbaric? It is one thing to- Ow!" Ladislaus cringed and heaved a great sigh, "Is…there…anything…you can…" his eyes fluttered once more and closed.

  Vincent turned to the man swiftly and shouted his name. What he got was no response.

  After another few tense moments of pain and confusion, Vincent let go of the prince's shoulders and leaned back on the tree trunk, exhausted and fatigued beyond measure. He closed his eyes shut and managed to whisper a prayer, covering the young man with a blanket from Vincent's saddle. The Wallachian's expression turned mournful and angered as he tried to stand up. To no avail, no matter how hard he tried, his right leg would not respond.

  Vincent's thoughts wandered to a place he was shocked to be in: Richard and William; he pictured them right in front of Hadúr, glowering. He began to wonder if they knew he had snuck out of the castle, coward that he was, and had left with Ladislaus in the early morn to quell the supposed 'uprising'. Vincent began to question if Richard truly liked him at all, or if he was simply another babbling idiot that displayed carnal affection and nothing more. If she was any manner of woman, she would reject him; he knew that much.

  Within a couple of minutes, Ladislaus sporadically gasped for air, startling Vincent, but he looked on triumphantly. The prince's falling in and out of consciousness was usual, as it had been happening for the past two hours. And though the prayer, for some reason, slightly stung as Vincent whispered it, it had clearly worked.

  Ladislaus regarded his intrigued expression, "You looked…almost shocked…"

  "Well, considering that most men pass within an hour of exposure to the poison…yes, 'almost shocked' sums up my sentiments exactly. You should, by all rights, be dead."

  The prince paled as he quickly ran his hands over himself to ensure that this was not a dream, "Oh…dear…I do feel like I'm slowly slipping. Like the ocean, something is hooking me down into a great…" he paused.

  "Great what?"

  Ladislaus relaxed his shoulders and closed his eyes, "Abyss."

  Vincent instantly remembered the similar feeling when he exchanged pleasantries with The Regent's wife. In fact, Ladislaus had uttered exactly what he had felt when in her presence. Her holiness and pious cleanliness seemed to almost sicken him where he stood.

  Deciding to change the subject, he stated, "The arrow's poison was mostly wiped off before contact due to your strong armor and thick clothing underneath that. I also wrenched it out of you within seconds," Vincent surmised, "I, however, might be more fortunate…I think," he heaved the injured leg over to his hands.

  "Then why have you neglected…in removing the arrow?" Ladislaus asked weakly as he noticed the long intrusive weapon protruding from raw tissue.

  "Mmm, I suppose I had not wanted to move it until now," Vincent increased pressure on the injured part, a muscle pierced deep within the flesh, "I ceased feeling any pain after a while, and I was so focused on retreating away from the village that I did not want to stop to take it out. But the shot was a through-and-through, you see?" he showed how the arrow pierced all the way through his calf and that the metal shaft was only touching the tissue. With one wincing pull, the arrow was tugged all the way through and tossed out to the ground.

  Ladislaus chuckled, "I never…never…said 'thank you'."

  "There was no need to, least of all now. It was intrinsic. It was my duty to protect your life, should it be threatened and, if need be, save it, should it be harmed. But I have failed you…" Vincent patted him on the shoulder, "I have failed you and the Kingdom of Hungary. I suspect that they even know now that I left with you, which was strictly against my orders to remain there."

  Ladislaus coughed up bile but grinned, "You think I'm some idiot who is deaf and blind to all around him? I rightly knew that my father wanted you to stay and help with party plans, and I rightly knew you would come to me in the hopes of running as far away from that as possible. You may be a complex man, Vincentimir, but your actions are very predictable."
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br />   Vincent laughed and laughed at that, "Oh my, are you warming up to me since you allowed my presence on this trip?"

  "Ha! Perhaps…But refrain from pressing your luck," the prince coughed once more and attempted to roll over, "…I…I'm slipping again, Vincentimir…the abyss…it's coming for me…it's…"

  The Wallachian turned to him, "It's what?"

  But the prince's breathing grew so shallow, Vincent could barely hear it.

  "...It's what!" he demanded and turned to Ladislaus's motionless body.

  But this time there was no response.

  "D-Damn. We-we're out o-of time," Vincent felt his own fatigue swallow him as he reached up one last time to Hadúr's reins, hoping that the horse somehow knew to help him.

  Victor and his horse rounded another corner, past the green brush and lofty trees to an open field. His eyes freely scanned the vast terrain as far as they could see. The tall grass had been pulled back and raked across, crushed from many caravans trekking the same path to the celebration, but he did not see his own people. Victor nervously fidgeted with his reins as he waited for a sign, for anything, to indicate life. What he discovered astonished him.

  "Why would they be lost? They would not be. My father sent his finest men with the most detailed maps. How is it, then, that I do not see them? Could they have been attacked?" Victor shook his head, "Drive these negative thoughts away, fool."

  The young man led his steed along the tree line before the field started when his horse snorted and whinnied frantically. Victor steadied the stallion and hushed him.

  "What ails you, friend?" he asked, only to be answered with a knicker.

  Victor scanned the land once more, following his horse's gaze to another stallion in the distance. If it weren't for the saddle atop it's back, Victor would have thought it wild. It was a massive black draft horse, and it answered with a whinny and began trotting over.

  "A stray? What happened here?"

  The black horse stopped right in front of both of them and paused to nudge and sniff Victor's ride. As they were getting acquainted, he noticed the blood on the saddle and along the shoulder of the animal. Its dried up texture trailed lazily down the fur of the black horse's shoulder, to its knee, and then to a final dark red streak that painted the horse's hoof as the line made destination with the ground. Victor couldn't believe his eyes when he saw yet another patch of blood along the horse's hindquarters. And that one was fresh, dripping softly off of the animal's hips and into the grass. Either one person was bleeding in two different places...or there were two people injured.

  "What, ho? Blood? From whom? Someone is injured," Victor redirected his horse to canter where the black horse came from. It naturally followed, anxiously prancing.

  Upon arriving, Victor received his answer. Two men, one definitely more alive than the other, were curled up on the grass. The nobleman dismounted immediately to inspect the injured party. Rolling the one with black hair over, he saw the brand of armor and cape, the tassels and his sword, as the make of a Hungarian blacksmith and tailor. He deduced that the other, more pale one with a blanket wrapped around him was also Hungarian. The saddle-pad of the black horse was knitted with the Hungarian's coat-of-arms colors as well. Victor knelt next to the one with blonde hair and felt his cheek. Ice cold.

  A hand suddenly snatched his gauntlets and yanked them away.

  "Y-you must take us to the castle. The Regent is in mortal peril. Th-there is an-" the man with black hair and changing hazel eyes looked at Victor with instant suspicion.

  "You will not fare well with prudent information refrained from seeing the light of day. Out with it," Victor demanded, "I am in search of my caravan. They may have died yet, and I have to find them. If you have any information, you must tell me now."

  The man was attacked with a bout of coughs but managed to form a fragment of an answer, "An Assassin…"

  Victor shook the man wildly, "What? Continue! An Assassin where? At the castle? That is where he is located? To kill The Regent? What fresh hell is this?"

  "I am Sir Vincent III Ramos. Y-you may have heard of me, and my allegiance to the Hunyadis, a-a-and I am swearing by my word, honor, and t-title, that Lord Ladislaus and I are the remaining r-remnants of what once was a strong body of cavalrymen. We w-w-were a-ambushed by the famous Assassins, though we can only s-speculate why."

  Victor slung the man's arm over his shoulder and lifted him up, "I can make that leap in one baby step. It is because of The Regent's celebration. Sir, do you have any proof that there is an infiltrator within the castle? If there is a scene made, or suspicion, I fear chaos will erupt. Our enemies will have won without using anything against us but fear."

  Vincent winced as he balanced himself on one foot, "I admit, it is only a whim, but Ladislaus died trying to deliver that message. They managed to poison both of us. He was less fortunate in his fight against it. He did, however, retrieve this small ripped piece of cloth from a dead villager's hands. It has their symbol on it," Vincent kept it close to his side but did allow Victor to inspect it from a distance.

  Victor glanced back at the paled, motionless man, "You said Ladislaus? Ladislaus Hunyadi?"

  Vincent chuckled as he watched Victor examine the body of Ladislaus, "He called himself a prince, once, though he was only a nobleman. He felt he owned the right to the title, and his father 'king', what with the fatal politics of this kingdom as of late."

  "May your King Wladislaus rest in peace, and may his heir apparent, Ladislaus V, find his way amid the turmoil," Victor turned the man over and pressed his ear to Ladislaus's chest; he closed his eyes to listen.

  "Oh," the Wallachian crossed his arms in a slightly defensive posture, "He was not my king, nor will the little whelp Ladislaus V be the heir apparent to the Kingdom of Hungary. Not to me, at least. I answer only to János Hunyadi, and for a time this one as well," he nodded to his passed friend.

  "What?" Victor whispered.

  "I said-" Vincent repeated frustratingly, "That I only-"

  "No, not you," Victor shushed the man and listened again, "This man…his heart still beats."

  Vincent blinked twice and frowned, already pushing off of Hadúr for momentum and hobbling his way over, "What? Dare you jest and I will massage your innards with my sword."

  "I am serious. Behold the sight," Victor helped Vincent kneel back down and pressed his head to Ladislaus's chest.

  "I-it's still beating, and his breathing shallow but still there," Vincent nearly sat back and locked eyes with Victor, "We have to get him to the castle where he can be treated!"

  "Hurry up," Victor motioned for Vincent to swing his arm over once more to be lifted when Vincent pulled out a hidden dagger from his boot so swiftly that the metal rang for a moment. He slowly placed a finger over his lips.

  "Shh, there is something out there…it is nearing," Vincent whispered as he crawled effectively closer to the tree line and pushed his back up against a tree trunk. The sounds of heavy footfalls became louder, until Victor caught sight of the person.

  "So there I was, halfway down the drawbridge when I realized that I needed to have a certain nobleman check in with me! One Seneschal claiming to have a whole caravan, and naught behind him but his only horse? Ha! The guards would kick me out, roaring in laughter as they went! Fortunately, my Lord, I found your caravan of people on my way to find you again. They took a different route, but nevertheless did not get lost, much to my utter joy. No, no, there is no need to thank me. I only did my job and yours," Seneschal Marius huffed as he rounded the corner, rotund belly heaving up and down for air.

  "Mariu-" Victor barely let out before Vincent swiped the Seneschal's legs out from underneath him, causing the whale to smack into the ground and create a miniature earthquake that startled even the horses.

  Vincent rolled as best he could onto the man and slipped the curved dagger into the folds of Seneschal Marius's fat neck with a growl. He pushed gently onto it and heard the helpless babe whimper in fear, "Iden
tify yourself, you piece of lard!"

  "Please, don't hurt me! Don't kill the messenger!"

  "Messenger? Messenger!" Vincent's eyes darkened, "I've had bad luck with messengers as of late," he glanced at Ladislaus.

  "My Lord, help! I was sent to tell you that your father requests your presence immediately!"

  Victor placed his hand on Vincent's shoulder calmly, "This is Seneschal Marius -steward and officer in the noble House of Poděbrady. He is accompanying me along on this trip. Marius is of no concern to you, and he would not hurt a fly."

  Vincent continued to stare threateningly at the man but complied to release his grip, "The House of Poděbrady? Is your father George of Kunštát and Poděbrady?" he allowed Victor to throw his arm over for support and lifted Vincent back into a standing position.

  "Yes," Victor sounded slightly surprised, "I suppose I have failed in introducing myself in the face of all this confusion. I apologize. I am-"

  "Victor, I know," Vincent declined to add his title to the name and roughly let go of the steward.

  Detecting a sudden cool chill of hostility on Vincent's part, Victor walked over to Seneschal Marius and helped the capsized turtle over, "My good man, I must ask of you one more boon. This man here," Victor motioned to Ladislaus, "Is the noble son Lord Ladislaus of the House of Hunyadi. He needs medical attention, and I believe the only horse he and all his materials will fit on is yours."

  Seneschal Marius nodded solemnly, "I remember this man. Fine youngin, that one. Here," he exposed his left hand out for Victor to take the reins, "I shall meet you there," he glanced at Vincent wearily, "As this man has made so obvious, I do need the exercise…"