Hightower didn’t even like to be in the same room as the vile, mutilated man. He looked at the thin young girl shuffling along beside him.
He pitied her for what she would have to endure. “I’m sorry, lass,” he whispered to Isabella as they passed through the doors of the throne room.
The ceremony was to be in the royal chapel. It would be small and quick. That’s what Raygan’s new attendants had told her. She had never seen any of the women before. They belonged to her brother and they were there to spy on her, Raygan was sure of that. She had been told that the women were there to help her prepare for the wedding. They were all ugly and she hated them. She wanted Isabella, even Agnes would be better than these hags. She had no one to share her despair with. Isabella was nowhere to be found, and Cain said that Duke Blackthorn informed him that Agnes had returned to her family after their father died.
This was not the wedding Raygan had dreamed of. She had often spoken to her father about her wedding day and what she wanted. It would have been a grand affair with the palace full of guests, and of course gifts. The ceremony would be in the garden. Afterwards, the whole city would have turned out to see the royal couple waving from the balcony of the palace. Her father could have decreed her wedding a national holiday and on her anniversary, the whole city could have celebrated with her every year. That wasn’t going to happen now. Now she was to marry a man she despised, surrounded by men she hated in the cramped royal chapel at night. It was all unbearable.
She was wearing a wedding dress that was old and plain and the matching shoes were an atrocity. They told her it was what the king had ordered her to wear. The servants had fixed her hair and dressed her, but when she looked in the mirror, she saw only misery. Her eyes were swollen from crying and the smile everyone loved was gone, maybe never to return.
Where was Isabella and what had happened to Rhys? Raygan could not stop wringing her hands. She had not realized how much she cared about the healer until Cain said he would be hanged. He might be swinging from a rope right now for all she knew. The very thought of the man who gave her back her beauty hanging in the city square sent chills down her spine, and it made her loathe her brother even more.
The time had come and she was escorted to the chapel by four Royal Guardsmen and her new attendants. Bishop Lyfair stood at the altar, Talorn and Cain in front of him. The guests included the royal council: Bradford, Fox, and Kaspar. She also noticed William Blackthorn and Finn Selmac standing against the wall. This was worse than she thought, not even the lesser nobles were in attendance. It was ridiculous for a princess to be married in this fashion. She would protest, but before she could say anything, she saw the look that Cain gave her and decided to keep her complaints to herself.
Raygan knew she was truly alone, and she missed Isabella terribly at the moment. She realized in that instant, the girl had been her only friend since her father had died. Maybe the only friend she had ever had.
She was led to the altar by the guardsmen; they saluted their king and then their general and stepped to the back, leaving Raygan standing by her future husband. Lyfair began the ceremony. Talorn stammered through his vows, seeming very nervous. He didn’t have the confident look Raygan had seen so many times on the tournament field.
When it came Raygan’s turn to recite her vows, she found the courage to remain silent and not repeat the words Bishop Lyfair had just read to her.
She looked to her brother. “I will only proceed with this on one condition.”
The look on Cain’s face was pure fury but he kept his voice even. “What is your condition, Sister?”
“I want my healer Rhys Morgan left alone and no charges brought against him by you or the Church. I swear before God in his holy chapel, he has done nothing wrong.” She looked at Talorn. “He healed the woman that is to be your wife. Is that a crime, my lord? Or did you prefer my crooked face?”
Cain started to answer, but Talorn spoke first. “Majesty, grant her this favor, so our marriage can begin on good terms without any malice in my bride’s heart.”
Cain put his hand on Talorn’s shoulder and sighed. “If that is what you want, my friend, then so be it.” The king waved one of the guards to him. “Tell Captain Hightower to call off the hunt for the good healer.”
The guard saluted and left the room.
Raygan almost smiled. Rhys still lived, they hadn’t captured him yet.
“Consider that my gift to you, Sister, on this day of your wedding,” Cain said with a mocking bow.
Raygan tilted her head towards her brother, feeling she had won a small victory. Bishop Lyfair cleared his throat and the ceremony continued. That night, Raygan Albana became Raygan Albana Blackthorn before God and witnesses.
As everyone quietly filed out of the chapel, Duke Blackthorn touched the king on the arm. “That was very magnanimous of Your Majesty to call off the hunt for the healer after what I heard about him.”
Cain stopped and waited until everyone was gone. “Once the girl Isabella confesses that she saw him dishonor your new daughter-in-law and use magic, my hand will be forced. If I don’t arrest him, the Church will and he will still be brought before my judgment.”
Blackthorn smiled. “Very cunning, Your Majesty. By the way, where are you holding that girl?”
The cell was so humid that Isabella’s hair and body were soaking wet. It made the blood running down her legs look thin. The huge pig man had put her in a pair of manacles that hung from the ceiling. The stone beneath her was wet with sweat and blood. Her toes barely touched the floor, causing her to sway and the manacles to cut deep into her wrists. Blood had started to run down her arms now. The pig man had also ripped all her clothing off and rammed things inside her in places they shouldn’t go. This wasn’t Isabella’s first time in chains or the first time a man had hurt her.
The pig man had left the cell. He didn’t say where he was going, he had not actually said anything at all. Through all the torture, he hadn’t asked her one question. It wouldn’t have mattered if he did. She would protect her princess, no matter what.
She could hear other people moaning from outside her cell and she knew she was not the only prisoner down here. Maybe the pig man had gone to hurt someone else.
“Well, young lady, you seem to have gotten yourself into a very grave situation.”
Isabella looked up to see William Blackthorn standing in the doorway of her cell with his hands on his hips.
Sweat ran into her eyes when she raised her head. It burned and blurred her vision, but she could tell he was smiling.
The pig man walked up beside the duke. “How do you like Arn here? I hope you don’t mind his face. Arn’s nose was cut off by his father when he was a small child, and his tongue was torn out as well. He does good work though, doesn’t he? Be kind to him, he has been a dear friend of mine for a very long time.”
Blackthorn slowly walked over to her and took off one of his riding gloves. He began to run his hand down her back until he got to her small buttocks, then he squeezed it like the women in the market squeezed the fruit.
“Very nice, Isabella, I believe you’re ripe.” He then started on the front of her, his hands cupping each of her breasts then sliding down between her legs. “Oh yes, my dear, you might do nicely. I believe you would have grown into quite the beauty. What a shame. I think I might spend a little time with you myself before Arn ruins your looks.”
Isabella raised her head and spit full into Duke Blackthorn’s face. He wiped it off with his hand. Then the duke slowly licked her spittle off his fingers. “What a spirited girl we have, Arn.”
Then he thrust his thumb into her left eye. There was a very slight pop as the fluids that were once Isabella’s pretty green eye trickled down her cheek. She screamed and her body became taut. The girl began to convulse as the duke twisted his thumb into her eye socket.
Isabella finally went limp, losing control of her bladder and bowels as she hung helplessly from her chains. Blackthorn pul
led his thumb out and wiped it off on the girl’s sweat-soaked hair.
“Arn, make sure she doesn’t die and don’t tear her up too badly yet, she will make a fine project for us.” The executioner snorted through the two holes where his nose once had been, causing yellow slime to drip out on to his upper lip. He licked it off then giggled like a girl. “Yes, dear boy, she will give us hours and hours of pleasure.”
When the morning came, the new Princess Blackthorn stood staring out of her window. Should she consider herself a woman now?
Her wedding night had not been what she expected. She had thought that General Talorn Blackthorn, champion of the lists, the greatest warrior Bandara had known since Braxton Blackthorn, would come in and rip her dress off and have his way with her. She had made up her mind to just shut her eyes and let it happen, but that was not what occurred at all.
Talorn had carried her into their bedroom after the wedding and sat her on the bed. Then he seemed not to know what to do next. He was sweating and acted very odd. They had drunk some wine and she had waited and waited, but the great knight had never said a word about intercourse. The mighty Talorn Blackthorn, the subject of so many women’s fantasies, the envy of so many men, was a fraud in the bedroom. Either that or he didn’t find her desirable, but the very thought of a man not wanting her was just ludicrous.
She had excused herself and put on her bed clothes and gotten into Talorn’s huge bed while he just sat there with an idiotic look on his face. She saw no reason not to just go on to sleep. Raygan was very relieved. As handsome as the knight was, she didn’t want him touching her. She had no feelings for him, and he was too closely associated with Cain for her to ever have any affection for him. She drifted off to sleep thinking about Rhys, pleased with her wedding night.
A little later she was awoken by her new husband climbing into bed with her. He was nude and smelled strongly of wine. She could see he was very aroused. Talorn began tugging at her sleeping gown. He was very clumsy and she ended up taking it off for him. She knew if she didn’t do her womanly duty, her brother would pay her another threating visit, now that he knew Rhys was a weak spot of hers. Cain would not hesitate a moment to use him against her.
She lay back on the bed, her exquisite body unveiled for the first time before a man. Talorn stared at her as if he was spellbound. He mumbled something about how beautiful she was.
Then he just jumped on top and shoved himself inside her. It had been awkward and quick; he had said nothing afterward. She went to sleep confused by the whole thing, only to be awoken in the middle of the night for another assault by the great knight. It was no different than the first time, maybe even worse. He had gotten up when he was finished and left the room.
Raygan had never been with a man before, so she had nothing to compare it to. She really felt no different than she had the night before. She really didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. All the servants around the palace talked about sex all the time like it was such a wonderful thing. She thought it akin to being molested by a sweaty hog. Perhaps her husband was not the experienced lover everyone thought he was.
Everyone believed Talorn swam in a sea of women. After her experience with his lovemaking, the princess would say he was not much of a swimmer. The thought made her smile—what would all the ladies of Bandara say if they could have seen the great lover last night? The mighty Talorn Blackthorn was baffled when it came to what to do with a woman.
He had not returned to their room by morning, so she had gotten up and dressed. Breakfast had been brought to her and she had eaten sparingly. She also made up her mind that her husband would never have her willingly again.
She stood at the window, finding herself wondering what Rhys was doing and if he had heard the about the wedding. The bells had been rung throughout the city and the criers had announced her marriage from every corner in Turill. If he was still in the city, he had to know. She wondered if she would ever see her handsome healer again.
There was a knock at her door and then it just opened. It was Cain. “Good morning, Princess Blackthorn,” he said with an evil little smile on his face. “I hear Talorn made quite an impression on you last night.”
Raygan was afraid to say anything about the king’s friend, but she could not help rolling her eyes.
“I see. Well, I am sure when he returns, things will be much better.”
Raygan wrapped her arms around herself. “Where did he go?”
“Oh, she can speak,” the king said. “He has gone to defend our kingdom from the Abberdonian invaders. I see you’re paying as much attention to the business of the kingdom as you always have.” He picked up a piece of toast from her half-eaten breakfast, then dropped it back onto the plate.
“I intend to go myself in a few weeks, once the realm is a little more stable.”
Raygan brightened a bit. Cain gone to the north would be a blessing for her. Her brother stepped closer and reached out to touch her. She recoiled as if he was a serpent. The king dropped his arm to his side and looked at his sister.
“I know you hate me, Raygan, and I don’t care, but I am your king now. So if you hate your brother, I understand, but I will not tolerate hatred towards your king. It borders on treason. Raygan, I know you love Bandara as much as I do. Now you are married to the commander of her armies and my right hand. So if you can’t love your brother or your husband, at least love your king and country and be a true princess of Bandara like only you can. I assure you that things will be much better for you if you show your support for the realm.”
Raygan bowed her head. “I will always love Bandara and do what’s best for the people and the kingdom.”
Cain put his fingers under her chin and raised her head. “Good Princess Blackthorn. I knew I could count on your loyalty to the throne.”
He turned to leave.
“Your Majesty, may I ask a favor?”
The king turned and put his hands behind his back. “Of course you may ask, lady.”
“I would like to have my handmaiden Isabella back, if you please. She is the only one that knows my routine. She is important to me as well. I have come to care for her a great deal.”
Cain shook his head. “I would happily return her to you, but she fled the palace after she helped the healer escape. I sent the guard to find her because I knew she was important to you, but they have had no luck in locating her.”
“Could you please keep looking? She is very dear to me, Cain.”
“I will have the guard continue to look for her, of course.”
The king nodded and left her standing in the huge room alone.
Raygan didn’t believe for a second he had looked for Isabella at all. If he had, it was to punish her for helping Rhys escape his men. Isabella was most likely hiding in the city, afraid to come back. She would just have to find the girl herself after Cain went north. She hoped Isabella would be okay until she could find her and bring her home.
Arn had carried the blonde girl down to the last cell where the old dungeon connected to the new one after the duke had finished with her. This part of the palace’s underground hadn’t been used in years. It was putrid and damp and full of all sorts of tiny creatures.
The little girl had screamed a lot, but she never said the words the duke wanted her to. Arn didn’t think the duke really cared about the words anyway. He liked to hurt people just for fun. Arn did too, they had hurt lots of people together.
Now he sat and waited. He had smeared the girl’s body with honey like the duke had told him to, and then rolled her in the oats. Arn dumped what remained of the oats into the girl’s cell. He had to get a second sack to make a trail of the grain down to the old waterway under the dungeon, just like the duke had told him to. He liked to do the things for the duke. They were always fun things.
The girl had not woken up for a while now, he thought she must be tired. It had been a long day for her, after all.
Arn had almost drifted off to sleep when he heard
the skinny girl screaming. The rats had finally come to her cell, just like the duke had said they would. Arn could not stop giggling.
Endra had been riding for over a week. Her legs were sore and her backside ached. All the traveling she had done in her life had been on foot. She had never owned a horse in her life, but the riding had come easy for her. Though she was agile and had fine balance, the problem was controlling the horse.
“Are you still having a hard time, Endra?” Rufio asked, concerned.
“Just a little when I want him to turn, I forgot what you told me.”
Rufio frowned. “I most likely didn’t make it clear enough. I have never given riding lessons to a woman from a frozen wasteland before.”
She noticed Rufio always took responsibility for anything he was involved in. “You have been a wonderful teacher, it might just take me awhile to get the hang of it,” she assured him. “One thing's for sure, my body hasn’t gotten use to this saddle yet.”
“Give it time. I promise it will get better,” the Dragitan said.
She was surprised that K’xarr and the others had taken the time to even get her a mount. Endra had thought better than to ask where they got it. She had woken up one morning and it was just there. More than likely some farmer was missing a horse. She didn’t mind if the animal was stolen. It was still a nice gesture.
The plan was still to leave her and the children somewhere they would be safe from the Church. She wondered where they would ever find such a place. Most of the people of the middle continent believed in the One God with all their hearts and complied with Church law. Sanctuary from the Church would be hard to find. She had grown tired of this way of life. Running from the Hands of God was taking its toll on her, and this wasn’t the life she wanted for her children or herself.
Endra had protected her little ones from the pope’s agents so far, but she knew that one way or the other, in the end the Church would win. She hated life as a fugitive. She always felt vulnerable, as there seemed to be no refuge from the relentless Hands.
DAWN OF THE PHOENIX Page 19
