Behind the Third Door: The Innocence Cycle, Book 2

by J D Abbas

  Mikaelin started and glanced at her sideways. “You’re awake?” His voice was low as if he didn’t want to interrupt the men. “What is it?”

  “I’m afraid.” Her words came out in an embarrassing squeak. She hadn’t seen this side of the men since her first day among them. They were angry and loud, and completely unaware of the fear it evoked in her. Then to hear them speak of torturing others… Her body grew so rigid with fear, she couldn’t even tremble. Sasha pulled herself up from where she lay by the chair and nudged Elena’s arm with her wet nose.

  “They’re not angry with you,” Mikaelin whispered. “They’re just frustrated. No one here will hurt you in their anger.”

  Braiden, overhearing, moved to her other side and quietly reached for her hand. “Th-they’re giving expression t-to their rage,” he whispered. “Th-they don’t make a practice of t-torturing others, nor d-do they willingly inflict p-pain. These are j-just words.”

  Sasha yawned and set her head in Elena’s lap, her eyes flicking between Mikaelin and Braiden.

  “Loqarad will stand judgment three days hence at noon,” Celdorn said, concluding their discussion. “I want every man in the keep assembled to witness his execution, for the name and reputation of all Guardians has been tainted by this man and all will be vindicated upon his death. He will face his victim, make a public confession and apology, and then suffer the consequences.”

  “That’s not sufficient, Celdorn,” Silvandir argued.

  “As much as I personally would find gratification in inflicting pain on the one who so wantonly attacked Elena, nigh destroying her life, I cannot allow blatant torture for vengeance’s sake.” Celdorn’s voice was low and steady. “It is beneath us.”

  “Screw being noble!” Silvandir drove his fist into the wall. His cries of rage and pain throbbed throughout the chamber.

  The thrust of Silvandir’s blow might as well have struck Elena. She fled from his fury in the only way she knew how. Hands clamped over ears, terrified eyes squeezed tight, she retreated into the safety of her inner world, Sasha’s anxious yips echoing around her.

  ~

  Mikaelin broke into their circle as the argument continued. Without a word, he grabbed Celdorn’s arm and nodded toward Elena. When he saw her petite form cowering in Braiden’s arms, Celdorn was immediately filled with remorse.

  “Enough,” he said, command in his tone. “We’re frightening Elena.”

  The men turned to look and fell silent. Silvandir cradled his bloody fist to his chest, hunched and clearly ashamed, as he gazed at the girl.

  Celdorn moved next to Braiden, stepping around a growling Sasha, and took Elena from his arms. He pulled her hands from her ears. “I’m so sorry, little one. We didn’t mean to frighten you. We were angry on your behalf, longing for some sense of justice for you. We’ve been far too rash with our words.” He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on the top of her head. “You may hide as long as you need to. I’ll hold you until you feel safe again.”

  Celdorn sang, rocking gently, trying to soothe himself as well as the girl. He didn’t know what to do with the hatred in his heart for the man who had hurt her; seeing him had only intensified it. As he held Elena in her young form, he found himself wondering how small she had become the day Loqarad attacked her. Was she this tiny when he raped her? Celdorn’s chest heaved as he fought to stop the invading images. There was no justice. Nothing could set this right.

  The little girl stirred. She blinked and gazed up at him from the purest of eyes. Tipping her head to the side, she studied his face. Tiny fingers reached for his tears, touching them as if they were fragile glass. She stared at her fingertips then back at Celdorn, her face filled with wonder. Then she pressed her hand over his heart and whispered, “Aliahnodi ti karha shabhitanil ata tsilothanil.”

  Celdorn stared at her. This was the first time she’d ever spoken in her small form, and she was speaking Raphar.

  “Wh-what does that m-mean?” Braiden asked.

  “‘May your heart find forgiveness and peace,’” Celdorn answered, his breath tight and shuddering.

  Where the girl’s tiny hand rested, Celdorn’s chest burned. His tears increased as light flowed from her palm into his heart.

  “Oh, Elena, forgive me.”

  ~

  Celdorn must have fallen asleep holding her—hours ago, judging by the light in the room. Elena didn’t want to wake him. Her heart was heavy, and she was in no hurry to have another difficult conversation. The memories and sensations had passed. Now, she wanted only to feel the protection and comfort of Celdorn’s arms. Oh, to be little again, to start over.

  Celdorn stirred. He opened his eyes and adjusted his arm, which had probably gone numb beneath the weight of her shoulders. He smiled as they gazed into each other’s eyes, lost in thoughts they couldn’t share. It was too much. It had all been too much for Elena. She was tired and frightened and her heart ached.

  Finally, Celdorn spoke. “There is something so pure and noble inside you, it exposes all the darkness in my own soul. I find myself wondering who you are and why you were brought to me. What am I supposed to do with this gift?”

  Elena was stunned. How could he possibly see her as pure or a gift? Everything about her, everything she did was tainted. Other people had suffered because of her. She had disrupted these good men’s lives and brought death to Celdorn’s warriors, caused dissention within his inner circle. Their gentle, near-perfect world was falling apart—because of her.

  “I must pursue justice, little one.” Celdorn’s weary eyes sagged with grief. “I’m attempting to act without hatred or vengeance, but Loqarad must pay the price for his actions. Please understand that.”

  “I’m trying,” was the best she could offer.

  A dark fear gripped her heart. How could she explain to Celdorn that somehow she knew it wouldn’t be Loqarad who would pay the price?

  Chapter 12

  Elena trudged up the stairs of the tower, dread increasing with each step. Her neck ached as if she were the one headed for the executioner’s block, not her attacker. Halfway up, her leg muscles revolted and refused to support her weight. Celdorn and Elbrion grabbed her elbows, steadying, half-carrying her the rest of the way.

  Three days had passed, and during that time, she had begged Celdorn to do this without her. He had refused, saying it was necessary for this man to face her and confess his crime before his death. Furthermore, he said, Loqarad had assaulted her in secret, but it was important for all the Guardians, especially the young ones, to understand that acts done in secret would eventually be brought into the open and consequences meted out. He told her the truth would come fully into the light this day. She doubted that would be the case.

  At the top of the winding stairs, they stepped through a narrow door onto a broad balcony suspended between two towers to the south of the castle’s main entrance. It stood twenty feet above an open area, which Celdorn called the Court of Judgment. The men of the keep were gathered there and in the bailey beyond. Celdorn had insisted that no one miss the execution, except for a skeleton crew of tower guards.

  Elena scanned the crowd and saw men scrutinizing her. She sensed their doubts and suspicions. In her fear, she had been clutching onto Celdorn and Elbrion. When she saw a man scowling at their entwined hands, she quickly pulled her hands free and tucked them into her sleeves, not wanting to taint either man’s reputation. She longed to disappear inside or just curl up in the corner, but instead, she fought to stand tall and face her assailant as Celdorn had requested.

  Elena had only intended to steal a quick glance at Loqarad, but once her eyes focused on him, she couldn’t pull them away no matter how hard she tried. He stood on the opposite end of the balcony between two guards, his hands and feet shackled. Shocked once again by how massive he looked next to the other warriors, she studied his expression, which was vacant and unflinching as he stared at the far wall. He must have sensed her scrutiny, however, for his gaze in
ched slowly, menacingly toward her while a lecherous grin spread across his battered face. Elena cringed as invisible hands groped her.

  Mercifully, the trance broke when Celdorn stepped to the balcony rail and spoke.

  “Men of Kelach, you have been summoned here this day to witness the vindication of the Lady Elena as she faces the man who stands accused and condemned of beating, raping and sodomizing her, whom, as a Guardian, he was under oath to honor and protect in word and body. He broke that oath in a most vile way, tarnishing the reputation of all Guardians, particularly those in this keep.”

  With a formal air that did little to mask his revulsion, Celdorn turned to the man. “Loqarad, are you ready to confess your crimes and beg the pardon of your victim in order to cleanse your heart and prepare for the time you will face final judgment in the end of all days?”

  When he made no reply, Celdorn’s volume rose. “What say you?” The question rang between the towers, making Elena jump.

  Loqarad’s lifeless eyes lifted and stared icily at Celdorn then slowly drifted to Elena. “I do confess that I beat, raped and repeatedly buggered this… girl.” His voice was a slow monotone, except for the delight he seemed to find in emphasizing repeatedly. “And I do ask for her most sincere forgiveness before I die,” he added in exaggerated contrition, though he seemed to be undressing her with his eyes all the while.

  Elena squirmed as she again felt Loqarad’s hands moving inside her clothing then sharp, debilitating pain as if he had just raped her again. By the look on his face, she knew he was doing this from across the balcony, but she was powerless to stop him. She cowered behind Elbrion, trying to hide her body’s reaction.

  Celdorn didn’t notice what was happening with her. He focused on Loqarad with a scowl, as if working out some puzzle.

  A shadow swept over Elena, and an overwhelming sense of foreboding gripped her. Panicked, she hurried toward Celdorn and grabbed his arm. “Don’t execute this man. Banish him. Imprison him. Castrate him. But don’t kill him. I sense something will go very, very wrong.”

  Celdorn leaned in closer to her, his voice quiet but firm. “Elena, as I told you, it is our law. He made the choice. He committed the crimes. I know you have a soft heart, but he must pay for what he has done.”

  “I don’t care if he dies. I’m afraid something is going to happen to you, something horrible.”

  “It’s just your fear, little one.”

  She knew he was trying to assure her, but the foreboding only intensified. “I don’t think so, Celdorn. I think it is a warning from the light, the… Jhadhela.” She saw a hesitation in his eyes, and she pressed the moment. “And like Silvandir said, is death not the easiest choice for him? He won’t have to live with what he has done. It’s over, quickly and rather painlessly. Would it not be more punitive to put him in a dungeon and let him live like a caged animal for the remainder of his life?”

  Celdorn wavered. “Elena, he broke the law of this keep, which is punishable by death and death alone. I can’t change that. My men expect consistency from me. They need a firm leader.”

  “Isn’t it within the power of the Lord Protector to show mercy when he so chooses?” She squeezed her ada’s arm, her eyes begging for him to listen. “Please, Celdorn, I know something terrible will happen. I don’t want you to be hurt. Many men have died because of me, please, don’t make me live with this on my conscience as well.”

  Celdorn sighed and bent down, kissing the top of her head, which raised more than a few eyebrows in the court below. “All right, little one, you win.”

  Elena stepped back by Elbrion as Celdorn turned and faced the men of the keep. “I have been asked to grant mercy to this lawbreaker by the very one who should be demanding his head.”

  He then turned toward her assailant. “Therefore, I sentence you, Loqarad, to imprisonment for the remainder of your life in the dungeon of Greenholt, where I hope you will be tormented by the memory of your crimes and find true repentance before the end of your days.”

  “I’ll accept no mercy from a whore!” Loqarad spat at Celdorn’s feet. “You’d let that little tramp tell you how to run your keep. What kind of man are you?”

  Celdorn’s hand went to the hilt of his sword.

  “No, Celdorn, don’t do it,” Elena cried.

  “Kill me!” the prisoner demanded. “I won’t be indebted to some insignificant slut who holds mercy over my head. She’s not worth the ground she stands on, unless she has her legs spread or mouth open.”

  “Turn your back, Elena,” Celdorn ordered, his wrath ready to erupt.

  “No, please listen to me!” Elena ran forward and clung to Celdorn’s arm. “Don’t let him provoke you. He wants to hurt you. I know if you strike him, something bad will happen. Please, Ada.” Elena’s hand clamped over her mouth as soon as the word slipped out, sickened that she had said it publicly.

  “Ha! Listen to that little whore calling you Ada.” Loqarad laughed lecherously. “She must be giving you some special treatment to earn that right. She certainly knows how to treat her daddies; she’s been screwin’ her own since she was a babe—”

  “Elena, get back.” Celdorn’s voice was a menacing growl.

  Elbrion pulled her off to the side as Celdorn drew his sword.

  “Do you like little girls, Celdorn? Does she climb on top of you to kiss you good night… with her nether lips?”

  “Elbrion, stop him,” Elena begged as Celdorn stepped toward Loqarad. “That man will kill him.”

  “…though she’s been with so many men—and women, from what I hear…”

  “Elbrion, turn her away,” Celdorn ordered.

  “Nooooo!”

  “…that she’s all used-up. Her body’s so worn out, she couldn’t satisfy your stallion.”

  Elbrion turned Elena, pulling her face into his chest with his hand over her ear, just as Celdorn’s sword swung high and wide. The edge of his blade converged with Loqarad’s neck even as he spoke his final word.

  A thunderous crack exploded in the courtyard. Ebony bolts shot out from the fissure in Loqarad’s neck. Black tongues of fire surged up Celdorn’s sword and engulfed his flesh, sending his body into violent convulsions, stealing the life from him. Elena pulled free of Elbrion’s grip and screamed; her heart filled with dread as she realized Celdorn was about to die.

  “Do something!” she called as she ran toward him.

  Elbrion wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back. Elena stretched her hands toward Celdorn crying, “Help him.”

  Another deafening roar shook the walls of the towers as brilliant light burst from Celdorn’s chest. The radiant energy coursed through his arms and drove back the infernal assassins. His sword lit with a white flame that tore through Loqarad’s neck, slicing it clean through. Blood sprayed as his head rolled to the ground. The massive body slumped and fell at Celdorn’s feet.

  Her ada collapsed onto his knees as his body twitched and spasmed. He bent over his sword, struggling for breath, until some force drove him back to his feet. With a roar of fury, he picked up Loqarad’s head by the hair and hurled it into the courtyard below. Then tossing his sword on the ground, he grabbed the man’s mammoth body, pulled it to the balcony edge, and shoved it over the rail. The men below skittered back, encircling the corpse as it landed with a thud.

  Celdorn spat on the remains, his eyes ablaze. “May Qho’el grant you no mercy in the life to come. Suffer in Umbradhur, you depraved creature!”

  Elena cringed as Celdorn stormed back and forth along the balcony rail. “Torch his vile body outside the walls.” He waved his hand toward the gatehouse. “I don’t want even an ash of his filth to remain here.”

  Breathing heavily, Celdorn picked up his sword, wiped it clean and returned it to its sheath; his whole body shook with the aftermath of his rage. Elbrion hurried to his side and laid a supportive hand on his shoulder, whispering words Elena couldn’t hear.

  She stared at the puddles of blood spreading across t
he balcony, and her mind swirled along with the crimson rivers that merged and mixed with small ponds. So much blood. She put her hands over her mouth and suppressed a scream. She stared at Celdorn, who wiped the spatter from his face while tears streamed down her own, relieved that he was alive and yet sickened by what he’d done. Turning, she noticed men in the courtyard glaring at her. She stood alone, exposed. Overwhelmed, she spun around and ran through the door leading off the balcony.

  Elena hurried down the stairs of the tower and into the hallway below, unsure where she intended to go, knowing only that she needed to flee. Someone called her name. She sped up. When she rounded a corner, a strong arm reached out of the shadows and latched onto her waist. She kicked and clawed as the man pulled her against his body. Her pulse thundered in her ears drowning out his words. When she tried to scream, his massive hand went over her mouth, and she knew with all certainty: Loqarad had risen and come after her.

  Chapter 13

  “It’s me. Silvandir. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  But Elena didn’t seem to hear him. She fought like a wildcat, scratching, clawing, anything to pry loose from his grip. Mikaelin tried to help, but she kicked him away.

  When she screamed, Silvandir was forced to cover her mouth so she wouldn’t bring guards running. Lost in some other world, she bit at his fingers, oblivious to his calming words and assurances that she was safe. He searched for a private place, away from curious eyes. Lifting her off the ground, he carried her into the small room under the tower stairs.

  Once they moved inside and Mikaelin closed the door, he released her.

  “We’re just trying to keep you safe,” Silvandir assured her while Mikaelin lit the oil lamp. When the flickering light filled the room, he saw the panic in her wide eyes. Her chest heaved; her legs shook. It twisted his heart. “We watched you leave the balcony and were worried about you.” He kept his voice soft, watching as recognition took hold and her breathing slowed. “I’m sorry we frightened you.”