Bale turned from the fire. “Things are not always what they seem, Lady Moridin.”
“Shouldn’t you be after Magistrate Harristone. He’s the one who has gone missing,” Bella chimed in. The way her head bobbed on her skinny neck as she spoke, she looked like one of the great white cranes found on the northern edges of Long Lake.
“Perhaps,” replied Bale. He looked at the group in front of him. “Unfortunately, the magistrate is unavailable, so we must work with what we have.”
Mason had found the four young women hiding in the bathing rooms in the back of the tavern. Unharmed, but in need of clothing, they sat on benches wrapped in white towels. The remaining emissaries from Basinia had been found upstairs in their beds and supposedly unaware of the wicked deeds that had taken place below the very roof under which they slumbered.
All of the Basinian dignitaries sat disheveled and disgruntled but silent next to the princesses’ cousins. All but one. Magistrate Brier Harristone had not been found. His bedroom was void of any belongings and no signs of a struggle were evident. The only item of note in the magistrate’s room was the body of a guard who had been set to watch the upper floor. A delicate and expensive knife, as might be expected for an older, wealthy man to own, had been left lodged in the throat of the soldier. Suspicious, or planted?
“Listen to these fine young women, Captain.” Kesh licked his swollen lips. “Continuing with such crass action will not bode well for the alliance between our two nations.”
Bale laughed openly at that. “And the abduction of the very princesses who are to cement that alliance bodes well for said alliance?” He pulled the hot iron poker from the flames and pointed the smoking tip at Kesh’s nose, causing the man’s eyes to cross as he shied away. “Save your words, Chancellor. You’ll need them soon enough.” Bale walked over to Erik, gesturing at a nearby soldier, who removed the muffling cloth from the delicate ears. “I’ll start with you, elf.”
“Bale. Stop. I command it.” Princess Sloane’s voice was weak and barely audible over the crackling flames of the fire. “We must find my sister.”
Sabian was partially supporting the young woman while holding a steaming cup in front of her haggard face. The foolish old man has revived her! The interrogation would have gone much more smoothly if she had remained unconscious.
Bale knew he should have dismissed the healer when Sabian had objected to the treatment of the brigand. Instead, he had foolishly allowed the old man to stay to care for the princess.
Sloane’s cousins leapt from the bench and rushed to her side. “Thank Eos. You’re awake!” cried Meagan. The others hovered over Princess Sloane, babbling and murmuring about her and what was happening.
The old physician set down the steaming cup when Sloane did not take it from his hand and waved irritably at the gaggle of young women. Once they parted, he moved to look into her eyes. “How do you feel, my dear?”
“Terrible. Help me to my feet,” commanded the princess.
The old man’s face puckered. “I think not; you have a severe concussion. Rest is what you need.” His eyes touched on Bale, then cut quickly to the floor.
Bale was momentarily speechless. The old man was pretending he had nothing to do with the princess’s return to consciousness. “The physician is correct, Princess,” he managed to say, controlling his tone carefully. He thrust the hot iron back in the fire with a scowl, then moved to her side. “You are injured and must rest. Princess Sacha will be found. I will see to that.”
“By torturing those who can help us most? No, Bale. I will see my sister found, and I will have it done without further savagery.” She sat up and swayed, almost falling from the table.
Bale reached out to steady her. “I mean only to find who has betrayed us, Princess. I will find Princess Sacha and see you both back to Pelos. Immediately.”
The room exploded with gasps and shock at his words. “You can’t be serious. It could mean war!” Lady Cora Barrelon stood, dignified despite the bedclothes. “Dire this situation may be, but it could easily become worse if the marriage does not take place.”
Bale could feel his blood start to boil, and he looked at the Basinian emissary with anger in his eyes. “I mean what I say, Basinian, and if you are attempting to threaten me—”
“Bale!” the princess barked. “Stop this!” Her hand went to her brow as she winced. “We must proceed to Waterfall Citadel, but only after my sister is found.” Her words brought silence to the bickering and fear permeating the room.
“May I say something, Princess?”
Bale’s head snapped around in surprise, finding the half-dwarf on his feet.
The stocky man’s ears were uncovered and the gag hung loose about his neck, though his hands and feet were still bound.
Bale ground his teeth, trying to determine how Kinsey had been partially freed, as no one stood near him.
The princess nodded in assent.
“I take full responsibility for what’s happened and I humbly ask you to let me make amends. I will find your sister and bring her to Waterfall Citadel.”
“I fully intend for you to help me retrieve my sister, Master Kinsey.” Princess Sloane edged to the end of the table so her toes touched the floor. She swayed once more and began to topple.
Swearing under his breath, Bale grabbed for her before she hit the ground. “You will be more of a hindrance in your condition than an assistance.”
Sabian’s stick-like hands clutched firmly at one of the princess’s arms, and he clucked his tongue in exasperation. “Absolutely out of the question!”
Bale laid her back on the table. “I shall make sure your sister is brought back safely while you wait here.”
“It is not safe to wait here,” said Erik.
Bale opened his mouth to snarl at the elf.
“And quite aside from possible danger,” Lady Barrelon said, before he could bark at the elf, “we are expected at the Citadel within the week.” The old woman stepped forward, closing some of the distance between herself and the swaying princess. “If we do not arrive on time, we will draw attention to what has happened here.”
Bale couldn’t believe the audacity of the woman. Trying to blatantly hide the events that had occurred while he stood right in front of her. “And that is exactly what I intend to do. I will expose this farce and see those responsible put to death!”
“No, Bale. No good can come of this. Father will go to war, and I will not allow that to happen.” Princess Sloane’s voice was faint and losing strength, but the steady look of concentration in her eyes belied her weakness. “Lady Barrelon is correct. You must take me to the Citadel.”
Bale worked his mouth for words, but nothing came.
“Master Kinsey?” Sloane called.
The broad man was still bound hand and foot, but he rose from where he was seated. “Yes, Princess.”
“Find my sister, Master Kinsey. She means everything to me.” She looked at Mason and motioned toward Kinsey, Erik, Rouke, and Kesh. “Release them, now.”
Bale fumed as Mason bent to follow her instructions.
The infernal half-breed approached the princess and knelt before her. She grabbed his thick arm and said softly, “Take what you need and go. Now, before I lose consciousness again and Bale tries to stop you.”
Bale could contain his rage no longer. The words burst forth. “No, Princess! You cannot do this!”
“I can, I will, and I have.” Princess Sloane focused her gaze on him. For a bare instant, the lack of focus parted, and the iron hardness of Hathorn’s eyes bored into his own. “You. Will. Let. Them. Go.”
He was powerless. His own men would turn against him if he disobeyed the princess’s direct command. He stood in mute fury, the grinding of his teeth so loud in his head it was difficult to hear the speech of those around him. Quivering with hands clasped at a formal rest, he watched as the elf and his companions made their escape.
They wasted little time. Once free, the elf took t
he prisoner outside while Kinsey spoke with his man Rouke. After a brief conversation, the two approached the table. “Rouke will stay to lead the escort, and as an act of good faith.”
Bale snorted. What total rubbish. This Rouke was more of a fool than he thought. The elf must have planned this scenario from the beginning and this idiot would pay the blood price for his two conspirators.
Chancellor Tomelen’s voice cracked as he spoke. “I will go with them, in Rouke’s stead.”
“What?” chorused Bale, Rouke, and Kinsey.
“Are you out of your mind, Chancellor?” blurted Lady Barrelon.
The chancellor straightened as all eyes turned to him. “I’m not letting this man out of my sight.” He pointed to Kinsey.
“Absolutely not. I—” Kinsey began.
“SILENCE!” Princess Sloane shouted, then raised one quivering hand to her brow. “I accept. Now go!”
There was no argument after that. Everyone dispersed to gather their things. Kinsey, Erik, Chancellor Tomelen, and the prisoner rode off just as the glow of morning broke above the treetops, painting the rapids with brilliant flashes of light.
Mason caught Bale’s eye with an unspoken question, and Bale nodded curtly. Five Pelosian riders disappeared into the wilderness in slow pursuit.
Bale smiled grimly. You will not see the fruits of this, Erik. I swear it.
“DO you love me?” Sacha asked.
Renee turned from the window. “More than anything.”
Her pulse quickened at his words. “That makes me happy”—Sacha paused as he walked barefoot toward her across the cold stone floor—“for I have news,” she finished, and bit her lip nervously.
They had stolen away in one of the maid’s quarters high up within Stone Mountain. A fire in the hearth crackled with life, but the room still possessed a chill that made her huddle under the many furs they had brought with them. His eyes, dark and beautiful, held hers in thrall as he approached the bed. Her skin tingled at his touch as he slipped under the heavy furs.
He lay on top of her and began to gently kiss her neck.
She squirmed under his soft touch and giggled. “I’m serious.”
Renee did his best impression of a pout. “And what news might this be, that I must profess my love to hear?”
“Perhaps I won’t tell you,” she teased.
He arched a brow. “Oh, really?” His hands darted to her sides and he began tickling her.
Sacha bucked under his torture and laughed uncontrollably. “Stop!”
Relentless, he continued. “Tell me, girl. Or I’ll move to your feet!”
“I’m with child!” she shouted through her laughter, unable to endure any more of his wicked touch.
Renee’s hands froze in place.
She blinked away tears. “I’m with your child...”
He looked up, searching her eyes. “You are sure of this?”
Sacha nodded, smiling tentatively.
A broad smile made its way across his face as he came to understand. “My Princess.”
Her heart leapt yet again. He was happy—happy to be the father of her child. She lifted a hand to touch his face, but at the height of her joy, he began to fall away from her. She clutched desperately for him, but his handsome face receded into the enveloping darkness. “No!” she cried.
“Princess?” A deep voice echoed Renee’s last word. “Are you all right?”
The memory of her lover and that stolen afternoon was so vivid, it could have been yesterday, instead of almost two years past. The vision dimmed as her awareness of the present pressed though. She raised her throbbing head from its sagging position and blinked wearily.
There was precious little difference to be gained in opening her eyes. The room around her was dark, illuminated only by a square of moonlight coming through a window. She could make out the silhouettes of furniture and large, rectangular objects hanging from the walls. The shadowed form of a man leaned forward in a chair across the small chamber.
“Princess?” the deep voice whispered again.
His voice was familiar. Basinian. One of the emissaries. “Magistrate Harristone?” Her voice was rough and the effort of speaking made her throat hurt. She attempted to raise a hand to massage her throbbing temple and wipe the grains from her eyes but found that her arms were tied to the chair.
“Thank Eos, you are well. I was afraid you had”—he swallowed audibly before he allowed the last word to slip into the shadowed room—“perished.” The worry in his voice sounded genuine. The fear in his voice sounded genuine, too.
Sacha tried to shift her body but found her bonds to be too tight. “What happened?”
His voice remained low. “I’m not sure, really. I woke up as they were dragging you into the room.” His silhouette twitched as he spoke. “Back at the tavern, I was unpacking my trunk, and someone hit me in the back of the head. I don’t remember anything after that.”
Her frustration started to rise. “Do you have any idea where we are?”
“No, but I believe this place has long been abandoned. Until recently, that is.” His head swiveled as he looked around the room. “I was able to get a good look when they brought you in. The paintings are badly faded, and the dust on the furniture is very thick. Not to mention the cobwebs.”
She shook her head, thinking, Not much help. She closed her eyes again and focused her mind and body, one of the first exercises she had learned at the Monastery. With her thoughts, she reached out for the Shamonrae, the power that existed in every living thing, every inanimate object, and in every location on the face of Orundal. The power’s presence was soft and sweet, warming her insides as it rushed in to flow through her entire body.
Sacha gritted her teeth and said, “We are getting out of here.” Through force of will, she used the power to create searing heat around her wrists.
Harristone chuckled softly. “I had hoped you could do something. I have tried many times to escape our predicament with no success.”
The leather straps holding her hostage dried and cracked under the tremendous heat. She wrenched first with one arm, and then the other. The bonds fell away like crumbling parchment. She leaned forward and did the same to the restraints that bound her legs.
“Yes, I can do something.” She rose onto trembling legs and took a step to cross the room. Pins and needles peppered the flesh of her legs and feet. She had to stop and massage feeling back into her quaking limbs. “How long have we been here?”
“A full day and a night, since you were brought to this room. I don’t know how long before that.”
Has it been so long? Sacha’s stomach growled in rebellion against its emptiness, confirming Brier’s words. Food and water would become a priority soon, but first they had to escape. Confident she wouldn’t fall, she crossed the room and released Harristone from his bonds. “Can you walk, Magistrate?”
“I believe there is little call for formality, Princess. Call me Brier.” He stretched his legs and rubbed his wrists. “Yes, I believe I’ll be fine.”
“Good. Just ‘Sacha’ will suffice as well.” She grinned at the irony in Brier’s statement. “I’ll check the window, if you keep an eye on the door.”
The large man nodded, then got to his feet slowly. He moved to the door with minimal noise and gently leaned against it.
Sacha stepped lightly to the window across the room. It was set fairly high on the wall and only one lone pane of glass remained. Sacha rose up on her toes and peered out, making sure to keep herself cloaked in the shadows of the room.
It appeared Brier’s assumptions about this place being abandoned were correct. Below their second-story window was a courtyard filled with massive trees that were draped with thick jungle vines. Heavy roots had broken the stones of the courtyard, seeking the earth below. Several buildings in varying states of ruin dotted the perimeter of the once-open area. The light of small campfires showed through the dilapidated windows and vegetation.
Beyond the bu
ildings lay a great wall of stone that surrounded the entire compound. Past the courtyard, a gaping hole had been rent in the fortification. Stones from the wall lay scattered about the inside of the courtyard and were covered with creeping growths of all kinds that crawled from the night-shrouded forest beyond.
Around the perimeter, torches had been lit to fight the darkness. Some of those points of light bobbed as the sentries that bore them moved about on patrol.
“This will not be easy,” whispered Sacha.
Brier spoke softly from across the room, “I suppose not, but what choice do we have?”
“None.” She examined the window. “I can get this open, then we can climb down on the vines.” Sacha focused her arcane energies on the rusted metal latches, snapping them loose. She pulled on the iron frame.
The window squeaked as it swung open.
Sacha froze and cursed softly. She looked at the walls and courtyard for signs of alert.
Everything remained still, except the few sentries moving along the walls.
She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and reached up to find purchase on the windowsill. She pulled herself up and looked back at Brier. “Okay, I’m going down.”
“Be careful. I’ll be put to the lash when we get back if you’re harmed,” he said with a bit of humor in his voice.
Sacha slipped out the window, and realized as she did so just how small the space actually was. Brier might have trouble getting through to grab a vine without falling. She could use her magic to assist him, but the noise that arose from his struggle might prove to be too difficult for her to handle. She prayed the heavy magistrate could manage the climb on his own.
The vines that clung to the building afforded her many handholds, and she was able to quickly descend to the ground. Once on stable footing, she stepped into the shadows and waited for Brier.
He didn’t appear immediately, so she glanced around at her surroundings.
The trees looked like tall pillars of black that cast long shadows on the broken stone courtyard. The shadows and vegetation would provide good cover. The guards along the walls still seemed unaware and she could sense no movement in the courtyard.
Dark Fate: The Gathering (The Dark Fate Chronicles Book 1) Page 23
