The Lost Garden: The Complete Series

by D. K. Holmberg

  “You made a mistake,” she said.

  “Quiet,” one of the men said.

  Eris shifted , trying to adjust so she could see her captors but couldn’t. “If you’re after ransom, you chose the wrong daughter.” But if they had Jacen too, it wouldn’t matter.

  She heard coarse laughter.

  “She is fierce. Surprising, considering the others.”

  “You saw what happened.”

  The other grunted. “I saw. But that’s not possible with her. Not from a princess.”

  “I thought they were all scattered.”

  “They were. All but her. Saw her when he came for the wedding. That’s why we were summoned.”

  One of the men grunted but neither said anything more.

  Eris lay where she was, resting her back against the rock. For a while, she tried to slide her hands together, thinking if she was given enough time and slack, she might be able to free her wrists. Then she could work on her feet. The ropes bound her too tightly. Any movement seemed to do little other than send pain shooting up her shoulders and across her back.

  She pressed her hands against the rock, hoping it might have a sharp edge that she could use to saw through the ropes, but found nothing useful to tear at her bindings.

  Eris was trapped and at the mercy of her captors.

  She chose to stay motionless and silent. After a while, one of the men shoved a piece of hard bread between her lips. Eris spat it out, unwilling to risk whatever poison these men might have for her. Or worse. Her Aunt Rochelle had told stories of men using poison to get their victims to say something they would never otherwise say and do things they would never otherwise do.

  “Eat,” the man said, shoving it against her closed lips. “You won’t get much more than this.”

  She shook her head as she spat out what remained in her mouth. She tasted dry crumbs and pushed them from her mouth with her tongue.

  “Let her starve,” the other man said. He had a deeper voice and a heavy northern accent.

  “We only need her for a while longer anyway. Besides, we’ve got the other one, too.”

  They had Jacen. Her father would send men for him, but how long before they knew they were missing?

  “Only if your plan works. If not…”

  “Not my plan.”

  “His plan then. It still needs to work.”

  “If not, then we leave her. Either way, it won’t matter.”

  “When my father’s men find me—” she started, but one of the men cut her off.

  “By the time your father sends men who can find you, it will be too late.”

  “Too late for what?” she asked, trying to twist her neck. All she managed to do was wrench her back, leaving her feeling worse than before.

  “For you. Them. Everyone.”

  A calloused hand struck her face painfully, and she fell into unconsciousness.

  * * *

  Eris shivered.

  She was slung over a horse, arms trailing behind her and tied snugly with rope. Her legs were bound the same, leaving her unable to move as they clopped slowly along the cobbled road. The Kingsroad. Her father’s pet project, extending his reach and a promise of protection far across the realm, was visible beneath the horse.

  The air had grown cooler and damp. The sky remained a murky grey that really hadn’t changed since first light this morning. She felt naked and exposed wearing nothing more than the thin shift. If not for the burning at her wrists and ankles from the rope, she would feel even colder.

  She heard her captors but still had not seen them.

  By now, she suspected they had put something in the water they forced down her throat. Eris had tried not to drink, but the longer she went, the thirstier she became. As much as she didn’t want to swallow their tainted water, she knew some of it dripped down her throat and into her stomach. She hated herself for wanting to swallow it.

  They rarely spoke. Other than learning they had no intention of ransoming her off, she did not know what they wanted from her.

  Her body ached all over from the way they had her tied. Face-down across the horse, she had to twist her head to keep the stink of its hide out of her nostrils. They moved at a plodding pace and each step jarred her. The sky was too grey and overcast to get a sense of direction, but from the way the air had cooled, she suspected they moved north.

  The legs of three other horses moved in and out of view. A captor to each horse. She knew of two—those she’d heard the first night—but didn’t yet know if there was another on the third horse. If she could only move…

  Eris continued to look for any way to free herself from her binding. So far, there had been none. Her captors were nothing if not careful. Instead, she had to be content with the possibility of learning the reason for her capture.

  After a while, they slowed. One of the men slipped a dark sack over her head, just a small hole cut into it for her to breathe through, and smacked her on the backside. She tensed, fresh fear racing through her as she wondered if they might abuse her. If they didn’t want ransom, they might have a different use for her in mind. Lands to the far west used women like that, places she’d heard about in stories.

  She had to suppress a bitter laugh at the thought. Again, one of her sisters would have been a better choice.

  Instead, she wondered what Terran would think of her missing. Would he worry about her or would he simply be happy the princess was gone? But there wasn’t anything Terran could do. He was nothing more than a gardener, albeit one with deep brown eyes and soft hands for someone who spent so much time digging in the dirt.

  “I think she’s fully awake.”

  “Must be. She tensed when I squeezed her ass.”

  Eris felt her face go warm. She recognized the voice as the man who’d dragged her toward the fire the night before and then forced bread into her mouth. He had a cruel tone, deep and harsh, each word tearing at her like sharp thorns through her mind.

  The other man grunted out a laugh. “She needs to remain whole or else she might be useless to us.” His voice was softer but just as hoarse, as if too tired to carry far.

  “You should worry about your own. Besides, you don’t know what she needs to do.”

  “No. And neither do you, but she’ll be little use to us if she’s mute.”

  There was a dark laugh. “I’d leave her mouth alone.”

  The other man shuffled toward them. Eris held a sliver of hope that they would fight and she could somehow escape. She had no idea what she would do afterwards. But first she needed to get her bindings free.

  “After. Then you can play with what’s left. Until then, we leave her whole. When they meet us, we’ll know what she is to do.”

  “I’m not certain this one will be of any other use.”

  “Give it time. If they’re right, the demonstration will not take long.”

  Eris heard a frustrated grunt, and the man stepped away from her.

  “You think either of them will make a difference? After everything we’ve already tried?” This from the deep-voiced man.

  “I don’t know.” He sounded uncertain. “I saw what happened with the last envoy. Only he returned.”

  “I saw as well,” he said in a grunt. “That’s why I think we might be better off ditching them here.”

  So Jacen was still with her. But what did they want with both of them?

  She suddenly wished she hadn’t pushed him to bring her along. If this was only a kidnapping to ransom Jacen, she wouldn’t matter.

  “I don’t dare cross him. Not after what I’ve seen him do. And we won’t be the ones sent to counter the spells this time. Once it is done, the reward for us will be great. Finally, we can work unencumbered. Undo some of these blasted changes the flower bitches made which block our access to the source.”

  The man nearest her laughed. His hand brushed her leg and rested atop her thigh. Eris held her breath, forcing herself not to react, knowing there was nothing she could do if he w
anted to harm her. Or touch her with his rough and familiar way.

  She needed to work her hands free. Somehow she had to find a way to at least get that far. And she needed to find out who else had been captured.

  “What will happen to the flower mage?”

  In spite of herself, Eris tensed as she realized they meant Lira. Was this not about Jacen? Did her abduction have something to do with the Mistress of Flowers?

  “If this succeeds, she will be weakened. The last of her gardens will be destroyed. Then we can do whatever we please to her. And the rest of this land.”

  “And then?” the other asked.

  “Then the Conclave can finally work unencumbered.” He laughed. “Choose who sits on the throne. Burn these damn grasses away…”

  The words hung in the air. Securing the throne. The Conclave.

  The magi had abducted her?

  It made no sense…unless Lira protected the palace, not the magi.

  Did her father know?

  She thought of the way he trusted Adrick, the way Adrick seemed concerned about helping ensure the safety of Errasn. But what if he wasn’t concerned about the kingdom? Could Adrick really have been working against him all this time?

  Eris felt like she’d been kicked in the stomach.

  All this time she’d thought Lira had been working against the kingdom, but it had been the magi. What hurt the most was how she could have done something…could have stopped them by just telling her father what she’d overheard. Maybe Jacen wouldn’t have been hurt, changed by what he’d seen from happy boy she’d known growing up.

  She swallowed a lump in her throat. Even knowing her father wouldn’t have believed her made it no better. Had it been Jasi or Jacen, he would have believed.

  Why did the Sacred Mother have to make her so different?

  “We practically have the throne as it is,” the nearest man said. He slid forward, running his rough hand down her leg and squeezed her calf painfully. He made a satisfied breath, and she tensed again. “Fighting makes it better,” he whispered. He had leaned close, and his voice was hot and moist and fetid.

  “The king only thinks he learns the secrets of the Conclave. What he learns only binds him closer. Had it not been for the flower mage, he would have been fully bound by now. None of this would have been necessary.” He grunted. “Soon, it won’t matter. The Conclave will be fully reborn, and we can finally have these lands.”

  The man touching her leg laughed. “You speak as if we matter.”

  “You think that this won’t bring you the power you seek?”

  The man’s hand shifted, sliding up toward her inner thigh. Eris squeezed her legs together and tried to kick, but it did nothing but send pain shooting through her arms. The man laughed.

  “That’s not the reason I sought the Conclave.” Eris felt certain of the northern accent now.

  “No?” The other man stepped closer, the sounds of his boots along the hard stone muted in the grey day. “I said leave her,” he hissed.

  The man grunted as he pulled away, the rough presence of his hand finally leaving her leg.

  “Were he here, you would not dare touch her until this is completed.”

  The other man laughed, deep and derisively. She imagined he had a cruel face and dark eyes. From the way he touched her, she sensed he was muscular. None of the magi she had seen would be described as muscular. That meant someone she had never seen before.

  “But he’s not. Instead, I’m stuck with you.”

  “Be glad you are. Anyone else would have little tolerance for these games you think to play.”

  “If these two don’t work, there are two more we can grab.”

  “You think it so easy? Once it’s known they are gone, there will be no getting closer to the others.”

  Eris felt a flash of pain and fear. Two captors and two remaining.

  Eris knew who the others would be. Desia and Ferisa.

  At least Jasi was safe.

  Chapter 18

  They rode slowly onward. At some point, they veered off The Kingsroad and tall grasses slashed at Eris’s face. Hot blood welled to the surface and ran down her cheeks from tiny slices. For some reason, she thought of how angry her mother would have been to see her like that. Not captured and bound, but injured and bleeding while wearing only her thin white shift, the knife-like grass leaving her disfigured as blood soaked into her underclothes. Even captured, her mother would expect her to be dressed properly.

  All the time she had spent in the gardens wasn’t the reason Eris recognized the grass. The name of it drifted to the surface of her mind from the conversation she’d had with Jacen as he’d described his desire to burn the field down. With newfound appreciation, she decided it was aptly named.

  When her captor noticed she was bleeding, he laughed. She still hadn’t seen his face, only flashes of pale, scarred cheeks. The other man stayed away from her, as if content his point had been made. More than once as they rode, a hand crept along her leg or thigh. She couldn’t help but clench her thighs. It did little other than encourage him.

  Eris still hadn’t heard anything more about Jacen. She assumed he’d been captured along with her, but the magi hadn’t mentioned him. Still, if Jacen were captured, their father would send men looking. More than anything, the thought gave her hope.

  And her father—and Lira—needed to know what had happened. Eris owed Lira an apology…and an explanation.

  But even if Lira knew, what was one woman—regardless of whether she possessed some sort of flower magic—against the Conclave? What was the kingdom?

  More than that, she wanted to see Terran, to hear his reassuring voice as he worked, explaining what he did.

  If she didn’t escape, she might never see him again.

  The horses slowed as they moved through the grasses, as if intentionally tormenting her. The farther they rode, the thicker the grasses became, soon rising up over her head, the long needles ripping along her cheeks and arms, tearing her thin shift apart. She imagined she was bloodied and red, but couldn’t see anything but the horse’s brown hide and flashes of grey from the sky.

  Her head pounded from being slung over the horse. Wouldn’t it have been simpler to strap her into the saddle? And what had happed to Jacen’s and her horses?

  The slowed pace left her wondering if they neared the destination. The captors mentioned another several times. Someone they feared. Someone of great power.

  She shivered, wondering if it were Adrick.

  What would she say to him if she saw him?

  After a while, they veered off into trees. Time had lost meaning, and Eris had no idea how long the needlegrass tore at her before finally thinning. Now, wide bases of large trunks were just visible. Undergrowth thinned, the long sharp grasses becoming sparser the closer they came to the trees. A few thorny, flowering shrubs cropped up. Eris didn’t recognize the flowers. The air became more damp and earthy, and she breathed it in, trying to ignore the stink of the horse.

  Then they stopped.

  She held her breath, hopeful they would pull her from the back of the horse and at least lay her on the ground. Even loosening the bindings a little would provide welcome relief. Her shoulders and thighs throbbed. Wrists and ankles burned where the rope rubbed.

  Already cool, the temperature dropped again when they reached the shade under the trees. The change reminded her of the palace garden when she neared the wall, of shade and the work she’d put in helping Terran replant the flowers. As much work as it might have been, she’d enjoyed the time, mostly because she had been able to spend it with him.

  Her body ached from shivering, and her mouth was dry. The skin of her arms and face from where the needlegrass slashed stung and itched painfully. With nothing else to focus on, the sensation was terrible and maddening.

  A soft moan came from near her.

  Everything else left her mind, all her own pain, the agony of the bindings on her wrists and ankles, the itching across h
er skin, the throbbing in her head, all vanished in a strange and sudden protective urge.

  “Jacen?” she whispered. He needed to know she was there with him.

  There was another soft moan, this time clearly pained. Eris shifted her head, trying and failing to see where he was. The sound came from where the horse’s flank blocked her view.

  “It’s Eris.”

  She didn’t even know if he could hear her. What would happen if her captors learned she tried to speak? After last night, she feared the sudden violence which had knocked her out.

  “Eris?”

  Her name was whispered and soft.

  “I’m here,” she said.

  “Quiet!”

  The man smacked her hard on her back, adding new fire to her injuries. Pain jolted through her shoulders and legs as she spasmed against the bindings. The rope dug into her flesh, and she bit back a scream.

  His hand rested again on her thigh, and he squeezed it, massaging her with a repulsive familiarity. “She’s a fiery one.”

  Eris heard footsteps.

  “They will be here soon.”

  “Good. And then I can have this one. They can keep the other for themselves.”

  “They need them both. We don’t know which of them will be successful.”

  The other man laughed. In the forest, the sound was muted and didn’t carry, but he left her alone, relaxing his grip on her thigh as he disappeared.

  She didn’t hear the other man approach. “You would be wise to remain silent. This will go better for you.”

  It took Eris a moment to realize he spoke to her. “I’m dead anyway.” Her head pounded and thoughts seemed to move slowly.

  The magi laughed. Not nearly as deep or rough, the sound was still chilling. “Yes,” he admitted. “But you can choose how you leave this world.”

  In answer, she tried to kick, knowing it was useless.

  The magi laughed again, softer and more bitterly. “He’s right. You do have fire. Too bad that will not serve you where you must go.”