Forsaken (The Shadow Chronicles Book 3)

by K. R. Fajardo

  Suddenly one of the guards, apparently having grown bored of merely tormenting their Terrian captive, pulled back his fist and landed a punch square against Dirik’s jaw as he was pushed in his direction. With a sickening crack, Dirik fell to the ground where he laid unmoving.

  “What the hell, Petro? I said we need them both alive.” The leader chastised half-heartedly. “At least until we are done interrogating them.”

  “Sorry captain,” Petro shrugged, “I was just trying to have some fun. I forget how fragile they are sometimes.”

  From where she remained, doubled over in her own misery, seemingly forgotten about by the men or perhaps deemed not worth the effort of guarding, Citera watched and waited for Dirik’s crumpled form to exhibit any sign of life. And with every second that ticked by, without the slightest sign of him awakening, her own pain grew infinitely worse.

  Overcome with grief and nauseating pain, Citera collapsed to the ground and curled into a ball. Dirik, come back to me. She pleaded, willing him to hear her thoughts. I need you.

  Citera, let me in.

  The voice, barely above a whisper, snagged her attention and rekindled her hope. “Dirik?” Through tear blurred vision, she strained to locate him across the field, only to be disappointed when she spotted him, still unconscious, amidst his circle of attackers.

  “Wake his ass up.” The leader, growing increasingly impatient of his captive’s unconsciousness, snapped at one of the men closest to him. “I don’t have time to wait around here all day.”

  “Yes sir!” Pulling back his foot, the soldier gave Dirik a swift kick in the ribs. “Get up boy!” But Dirik’s lifeless body remained unmoving, not even uttering a grunt as the officer delivered yet another blow. “I said get up!”

  “Stop!” Citera cried out, “Please stop!”

  Suddenly, all six sets of eyes turned in her direction. “Well, well, well,” the captain grinned, “the harlot decides to speak.” Pushing his way past his men, he prowled her direction. “I think she wants to join the fun boys.” Then turning his attention back to Citera, he added, “Isn’t that right sweetheart?”

  Citera scurried away from him as fast as her weary body would allow her. “Leave me alone.”

  “Awww, don’t be that way,” he smiled maliciously, “I promise we will play much nicer with you than we did your little friend.” Reaching down he grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her to her feet, laughing as she cried out in pain. “Now what do you say we go have some fun?”

  Removing his tight hold on her hair, the captain wrapped his fingers tightly around her upper arm and proceeded to drag her back toward his men; whose twisted smirks and hungry eyes left no room for doubt as to their intentions. “No, please don’t.” Citera cried, struggling uselessly to pull free from his iron hold, “I will do anything… answer whatever questions you want… just don’t do this please.”

  “My dear, you will do everything we want, including answering our questions.” He retorted, his low voice coming out sounding almost like a growl.

  With the distance between them and the circle growing smaller by the second, Citera knew she had to do something quick or it would be too late. Suppressing the pain as best she could, she called up every bit of strength she had and used it to slam her fist down as hard as she could into captain’s crotch. With a high-pitched screech, he released her arm and doubled over in pain, grasping his delicate parts. Finally free of his hold, Citera took off running in the opposite direction, ignoring the wales of laughter coming from the captain’s men at his expense.

  “Tyran, Rigar, anybody, help me!!!” she screamed, hoping against all odds that someone would hear her. Running as fast as her feet would carry her through the tall grass, Citera managed to make it half way across the field, before something hard suddenly slammed into the back of her head and sent her crashing to the ground.

  “You stupid bitch!”

  Enraged and embarrassed, the captain stood over her and began kicking her repeatedly in the head and body with the toe of his heavy boot. Still dazed from the first blow to the head, Citera writhed on the ground beneath his feet doing the best she could to protect herself from his continued assault. But before long the pain of the unrelenting beating, combined with the suffering she was already enduring from the link, became more than she could handle and she began slowly slipping from consciousness.

  And the nearer she came to the darkness, the colder and more numb she became. Until, only moments later, she felt nothing but peace.

  Gone was the pain of the link, gone was the pain of her battered body, and gone was her fear of these men. Rejoicing at having finally escaped all the pain, Citera smiled and sighed. This must be the heavens.

  The thought, but a brief flash in the back of her mind, was quickly negated when the captain grabbed ahold of her hair, and jerked her back to her feet. “I was going to be sure my men played nice with you,” he whispered into her ear, “but now, I will let them rip your frail little body to shreds.” Citera shivered, making the captain laugh. Little did he know the shiver wasn’t from his words, but the all-encompassing chill that suddenly consumed every inch of her body and encased itself around her core.

  “And what about you?”

  The new voice interrupted her thoughts and drew her back to the present. Knowing she was the only woman in the valley, Citera tried to force open her badly swollen eyes to search for the source of the familiar feminine voice.

  “What about me?” the captain snapped. Still holding her on her feet by the roots of her hair, he proceeded to shake her violently. “Do you think I want anything to do with your crazy ass after what you did to me?”

  Is he talking to me? No sooner than the thought crossed Citera’s mind, then the woman’s voice returned, “I can make it up to you.” the voice cooed ignoring his anger, “If you allow me.”

  The back of his hand, connecting with the side of Citera’s face was his response to the woman’s taunts. But though the hit was hard enough to draw blood from her lip, Citera still felt no pain at all.

  “Don’t play with me little girl.” The captain snarled.

  Now very certain the captain, for whatever reason, believed she was the one saying these things, and finding her own extreme calmness and lack of pain quite disturbing, Citera racked her brain for some sort of rational reason as to why her body, more specifically her mouth, seemed to be acting of its own accord.

  “I can assure you I am not playing. Just come a little closer and I will show you how serious I am.”

  Wait…what? Citera shrieked inside herself, as the captain, seeming somewhat hesitant, pulled her body in closer to his. “Is this what you want whore?” he seethed.

  No, no, no. I don’t want him to come closer! She shouted in her mind, but try as she might, Citera could not get her mouth to speak them out loud.

  “Yes.” The woman’s voice purred, “That’s exactly what I want.” Already angry at her own body’s betrayal, Citera became flat out disgusted when a moan from the captain made her realize her hand was cupped around and massaging the same privates that she had just bashed moments before. What the heck? She thought, trying to pull her hand back, only to be disappointed yet again when her body continued to ignore her demands. Meanwhile, the captain’s tense form relaxed and released another satisfied groan.

  “Do you like that?” The voice taunted him.

  “Oh, yes.” The captain moaned.

  “Then let me show you what else I can do.”

  Eyes closed, the captain nodded slightly, giving Citera’s traitorous body permission to continue its work.

  Exasperated and convinced that she must be somehow trapped in a waking dream, Citera gave up on trying to fight herself and succumbed to her bodies apparent wishes. Even when she felt her hands drift down toward the snap of his pants, she managed to stay calm. I really hope you know what you are doing, she huffed as her hands slowly began undoing his heavy buckle. Though it didn’t go unnoticed, that as she did so,
her body maneuvered the captain’s in such a way that his back was facing his men.

  “Awww, come on captain!” his men protested from across the field. “If you’re going to hog all the fun, at least let us watch!” they protested. The captain however, too bewitched by what her hands were doing to him, ignored their pleas.

  Having successfully managed to unfasten his pants, Citera’s body, apparently very aware of what it was doing, even if she didn’t, shoved his pants to the ground around his ankles. Then slowly leaning into his rigid frame, she whispered into his ear, “Are you ready?” As she spoke, Citera could feel her free hand begin to slowly wrap around behind her.

  The knife! Citera remembered just as her hand wrapped itself slowly around the hilt. It was then, in that moment that Citera finally realized what was going on. K! Is that you? Are you the one doing this?

  A low evil chuckle sounded from deep within her, sending yet another chill coursing through her body. And as she felt the knife pull free of the back of her waistband, she heard K’s voice speak to her directly, “Sorry child, I need you to sleep now.”

  “Wait K…” she blurted out, only seconds before K cut her off completely.

  And as the field and everything around her slowly began to fade away, the last thing Citera witnessed, before the darkness consumed her, was the shocked expression on the captain’s face as K rammed the knife up through his throat into his skull.

  Chapter 9

  It was already late afternoon when Marko finally left the training arena and began making his way back to the castle. After spending the entire day working with his men, drilling them on the offensive and defensive capabilities each elemental possessed, and then squeezing in a few hours of weapons training, he was beyond exhausted. But despite the aching muscles, bruises, and dust that went along with the grueling work, Marko loved training days. Every week he looked forward to heading down into the arena, spending the day with his men and working off his frustrations. And here lately he had a lot to be frustrated about.

  Every day he was being forced to deal with the issues that arose from having a mixture of races co-existing under the same roof. Between their constant bickering with one another over which of them was superior, to the daily meetings of the Council which he was expected to attend and listen to their petty squabbling, Marko was beginning to grow weary of the entire debacle. He yearned to return to the peaceful days of the castle, when everything worked as it was supposed to and the worst thing he had to concern himself with was a feud between the Wanderers and the locals living near the border. At least those rare events had afforded him the opportunity to get away from the castle and enjoy the fresh air of the country side. Now he just felt trapped in a never-ending cycle of pettiness and hate. There had been several moments in the last few days where it was all Marko could do not to go to his king in private and tell him what his father had told him about the events of that night. But each time that thought popped into his head, he would remember his promise to K and shove it back down into the recesses of his mind.

  Then there was K. After the first meeting of the Council when Mallok dictated that she was not to have even a drop of blood, until she either confessed or she was weak enough that Cato could read her, it had become Marko’s job to check on her daily to evaluate her condition. In the beginning, the signs were so miniscule he would barely catch notice, like a slight waver in her normally statuesque posture or a fleeting grimace breaking through her stoic expression. But as the days turned into a week, and week turned into two, the signs became harder and harder to miss.

  “How much longer do you think this will take?” He asked Mallok after his most recent appearance before the Council. “She is hurting terribly, my lord.” He had hoped when he reported to them that she was beginning to show signs of tremors and cold sweats that they would show some mercy and permit her to have a taste of something to take the edge off her suffering. So to say he was taken aback when the man he had once considered a benevolent leader, looked him dead in the eye with a wicked smirk and said, “Let her suffer, she deserves what she gets and so much more.” would definitely be an understatement.

  Shaking his head at the memory, Marko ran a hand across his neck trying to relieve some of the tension while looking forward to getting back to his room and taking a long hot shower. As he continued down the stone path, he passed through the iron gates that separated the training area from the palace garden, and wound his way through the towering bushes and vibrant flower beds. He kept mainly to himself, only nodding at the occasional passing civilian, until he suddenly heard his name being called from somewhere close by.

  “Captain Marko, sir!” the loud deep voice boomed from off to his left, causing several people in the otherwise silent garden to startle.

  Turning in the direction of the voice, Marko spotted Ivan, an earth Elemental and the officer in charge of the border security, stomping his direction. A large man by elemental standards, Ivan was one of the oldest active officers in the king’s forces and had developed the reputation of being quite the hard ass thanks to his no holds barred approach to dealing with trouble makers.

  “Ivan, how are you doing today?” Marko greeted as the bulky man stopped before him. “How is your family?”

  In all the years Marko had known Ivan, never once had he seen the man smile, however at the mention of his family his harden expression softened ever so slightly. “They are all doing great sir.” Ivan responded flatly, “Lewis will be finishing school this year and will be enlisting next fall.”

  “Lewis? I didn’t realize he had gotten that old.” Marko furrowed his brow trying to do the math. “Man, I guess that is right. Thanks for making me feel old Ivan.” Marko laughed.

  Ivan raised a brow, nearly doubling the many lines and wrinkles that covered his aged face. “Hardly, you are but a young pup. Nowhere near the age your father was when he became Captain.” Pausing, Ivan added, “Speaking of… how is the old man?”

  Despite the sadness the mention of his father caused him, Marko smiled. “As bull-headed as ever.”

  No one besides Mallok knew of his father’s illness, because that was the way his father wanted it. Actually, his father would have actually preferred it if no one knew, including Marko, but seeing as that wasn’t an option, he settled for making them both swear to keep his failing health their secret. Marko was just thankful to have at least one person he could talk to about it. If it hadn’t been for Mallok, he probably would have gone mad a long time ago trying to deal with his father’s stubbornness on his own.

  “Ahhh yes, Aidan was always a stubborn one. Once he had his mind set on something, there was no changing it.” Ivan mused, running one large hand across his chin. “But I guess that’s to be expected since the man was never wrong.”

  “Oh, well,” he continued, shrugging his shoulders, “I wasn’t looking for you to travel down this path of days gone by. I came to give you an update from the most recent scouting party.”

  “Oh?” Marko somewhat concerned, furrowed his brows.

  In all his years serving as captain, Ivan had not once brought him news from the scouts. Nor did he ever seek him out for any. After all, Ivan had been doing his job since before Marko had been born and knew every nook and cranny of the Lanorian countryside like the back of his hand. Besides, thanks largely to their working relationship with the Wanderers, no one ever crossed their border that they didn’t know about.

  “Yes, sir.” Gesturing with his hand for Marko to continue walking, Ivan fell into step beside him. “I received a report almost a week ago, that a small group of people had passed through the southern border near Jericho’s village. This report came from an unknown source, and since I never heard anything from Jericho himself, I just assumed it was false. That is until I received another report today.”

  “Today?”

  “Yes, I suppose they are coming for her. I should have followed up on the first report but I never suspected Jericho would be helping them.” With a h
eavy sigh, Ivan stopped moving and bowed his head. “Forgive me sir. In all my years of service I have never allowed anyone to make it this far into Lanoria without my knowledge and I willingly accept any discipline you…”

  “Wait, back up a minute.” Marko said, holding up a hand to stop the man’s apology. “Ivan… who has made it inside the country?”

  “Vanterians, sir. Five men and one woman, all Full-bloods.”

  “And how far away are they?” Marko asked, trying to maintain a flat expression despite the alarming news.

  “At the rate they are traveling, two days max.”

  “And Jericho is leading them?”

  “Yes,” Ivan growled, “I suspect that’s how they managed to make it this far unseen.”

  Running his hand through his hair, Marko considered his options. They had already made it inside the country, and as Ivan had so clearly pointed out, they were obviously heading toward the capital to collect their queen. Given that Jericho was helping them, he had to assume he had agreed to show them the way into town, though he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why they would trust him after his recent betrayal. But letting them wander into the middle of the capital of their own accord wasn’t an option. Five, six foot tall Full-blood men strolling through downtown Lanoria would not only cause mass hysteria amongst the people, but just the knowledge that they had managed to make it into the capital unhindered, would make his king look bad in the eyes of the Council.

  Attacking them wasn’t much of an option either. His men, though skilled as they are, had never battled anything with the speed and strength the Full-bloods possessed. Heck, it would take a small army of his men to even come close to subduing five of them, more if they were all blood feeders. No, if he had to be honest with himself, there was only one thing to do. He just had to hope the angry men heading his direction were somewhat reasonable.