Speechless, Zaraki let her sob in his arms. Anger and outrage boiled in him. As if kidnapping her and lying about his death was not bad enough. They also tormented her with the promise of torture? He tried to tell her this was enough, but once she started talking, she could not stop.
Sitting back, Leisha looked at him, tears streaking her face and words gushing out in a flood. “They let me wake up a little, you know? To let me eat and drink once a day. And then.” Her voice grew louder, winding up to release a fresh horror. “Then they would stuff those goddamn little yellow flowers down my throat again,” she keened.
“Zaraki, I can still feel Lukas’s hand holding my chin as he forced my mouth open, time after time. I lost count of how many times he put his hands on me, the number of times Lorant grabbed my wrists and held me down.” Her face twisted in pain at the memory.
Haunted eyes met his when she looked up again. “I defied them, I tried to free myself. But every single time I fought to wake up, to claw my way out, I wondered if they had come for me. And I remembered. Remembered hearing them whisper about Gerolt. How I’d be alone,” she whimpered. “Alone while he broke me.”
Zaraki had no idea how to console her or to take away the terror she felt. There was no comfort he could give to calm her or make any of this better. He wanted to hurt someone, to inflict pain on the ones responsible for this. Now, Leisha needed her husband, not her bodyguard, advisor, or anything else, but already, he knew Lukas and Lorant would not survive this night.
“I can lose all of this,” she said, wildly waving her hands in the air. “My kingdom, my crown, my lands. All of it. But I can’t face what they’ll do to me, alone, without you.”
Leisha looked at him, pleading. “Zaraki, I’m terrified of it,” she gasped, and her shoulders shook. “I don’t know how to do this—how to go on fighting, knowing this is a possible outcome. I can accept my death. I can make peace with it. But this—this, I can never make peace with. This death they’re planning for me is too monstrous, it’s too much to bear.
“And now, I never feel safe,” she wept. “This fear never leaves me. All day, it stalks me. They’ll find me and they’ll take me.”
And I’m mad, crazed and broken, she wanted to tell him, finally to tell him and let it all be done. If he left her, so be it, at least her secret would be set free. But before she could speak again, he interrupted her.
“Look at me,” Zaraki said, gently taking her by the shoulders. “I swear to you, Leisha, if it ever comes to it again, if things look hopeless, I’ll make sure they never take you alive. Same for Aniska and the others. We won’t let them take you.”
When she nodded, he saw doubt there still. He cupped her face gently, avoiding the half-healed bruises, and wiped tears from her face. “And if you decide you can’t do this, I’ll take you away. We’ll disappear together. I don’t care how or where. We’ll flee. I promise you.”
Leisha had no more tears or outrage left. She still held one last secret, but exhaustion clawed at her and she let him draw her into his arms. Tomorrow, she promised. She would tell him tomorrow Lukas had driven her mad and she might never recover. Then he could decide for himself if that was the sort of wife he wanted. For now, he cradled her as she shook.
Through all their time together Zaraki had never once seen her retreat. Usually, backing her into a corner made her fight more ferociously. Even when defeat would have meant a forced marriage or death. Even at sixteen, when she marched into a room of her enemies and forced them to acknowledge her as queen.
They sat together for a long while as the shadows lengthened. Maybe this would be the first time.
Sparks
Leisha lay in with her head in his lap, drained and wrung out, as Zaraki stroked her hair, waiting patiently, not giving any hint of his fury. When she sat up, he helped her out of her gown and put her in bed. The sun had long since set, and he lay down next to her, waiting for her breathing to slow. Within minutes, she fell asleep in his arms and slept for an hour before he rolled out of bed, careful not to wake her. Grabbing a few things, he headed out of their apartments and down the hallway.
The nightmares would start in a few hours, more than enough time for what he intended.
He knocked once on Aniska’s door. “Ani?” he called.
She opened it, already dressed in old clothes and weapon in hand. He must have looked surprised. “What?” she asked. “I don’t want to get blood all over the few nice things I still have. I’ve been waiting all evening for you. I was beginning to think I was going to have to kill them both myself.”
Happy with her preparations, Aniska stepped into the hallway and shut the door. “What’s it going be? Throat cutting, garrote, carve out a kidney? Don’t look offended. We are what we are— killers at heart. This is what Father raised us to be. Not assassins, but they threatened my employer and your wife, and it’s past time for a reckoning. I’ll kill both of them without remorse and so will you.”
“How did you know?” he asked as they walked together down the hallway. It felt good to do something, finally.
She gave him a disappointed look. “I let my guard down for five minutes and got my employer kidnapped. You’ve got to know I’ve kept a close eye, and ear, on her since she’s been back. I heard what she told you today.”
Zaraki marveled at her ability to hear anything anyone said, ever. They wound their way through the castle, servants giving a wide berth to two Ostravans gone hunting. Together, they descended the steep steps into the dungeon and found a young man sitting on a stool. He jumped to his feet as they entered. “Sire, Spymaster. Come to check on the prisoners?”
“Oh, no,” Aniska chirped happily. “We’re here to kill them. You’re relieved for the evening, soldier. They won’t need guarding after this.” She grabbed two torches off the wall, handing one to Zaraki and keeping the other for herself.
The guard looked confused. “Would you rather I wait here to make sure you’re both all right?”
“If you like,” Ani said. “But if you’d rather not be a part of this execution, no one will blame you.”
***
Lukas pulled himself to his feet when he saw the torchlight and heard the key turn in the lock. The heavy manacles clanged together and rubbed at raw spots on his wrists. He ached all over from sleeping on the floor. For a brief moment, he imagined someone had come to free him, to let him bathe, sleep in a real bed and eat food intended for someone other than pigs or peasants.
The door opened, dashing his hopes Leisha had found it in her heart to forgive him.
Setting the torch in a bracket outside the cell, Zaraki opened the door and stepped inside. He did not bother pulling it shut, wanting the prince to see freedom stood feet from him.
“Here to do her dirty work?” Lukas asked, trying to sound brave.
“No, she doesn’t know I’m here.”
The prince stepped back, hearing menace in those words. “Look, if this is about the things between you and I, I’ll apologize,” he stammered, still imagining he could find a way out. Life always worked out in his favor.
Zaraki chuckled as Lukas grasped at anything to save himself. “No, this is not about any posturing you and I engaged in two years ago. I don’t like you, but that isn’t enough for me to kill you. However, and unfortunately for you, she told me everything tonight. You also stole my horse and treated him poorly. Either of those things is enough for me to take your life.”
“What? I tried to be kind. Lorant was the cruel one.” Friend or not, Lukas wanted to live. He seized on this, hoping to curry some favor. “I told him to leave her alone. I protected her from him.”
“She would never have needed protection from Lorant if you hadn’t taken her. You drugged her. You put your hands on my wife,” Zaraki said, shaking his head.
“She would have killed us.” Lukas felt his mind racing as fear took hold of him. With painful clarity he realized Zaraki did not come as an executioner but as a man out for vengeance. This isn�
��t fair, he thought. As a prince, he deserved a royal death, rather than a killing carried out by a peasant.
“I’m honestly glad she didn’t kill you,” Zaraki said. A year ago, Andelko gave him the exquisite blade as a birthday gift. Small and light, it slipped into his hand with a whisper. “I’m glad because now you’ve had all this time to think about what I was going to do to you. On your knees, or on your stomach. We can do this however you like.”
“You don’t understand,” Lukas blurted out, desperation edging into his voice. Holding up his manacled hands, he tried to ward off what he knew would come next.
“I don’t need to understand you. That’s the beauty of what I was raised to do.”
From down the hallway, they heard Lorant cry out and then the sounds of a struggle. Ani always liked it better when they fought her, and she usually goaded them into it. Unlike some of those he grew up with, Zaraki did not usually delight in killing. He viewed it as an unfortunate necessity, but tonight he wanted this. He wanted to rid the world of Lukas of Embriel, wanted to watch his life ebb away for the crimes he committed.
Lukas felt his breath coming in shallow gasps, understanding at last begging would serve no purpose here. Where he might have been able to appeal to Leisha, he would get no mercy tonight. He cast his glance towards the open door and thought about running.
“Be my guest,” Zaraki invited. “It sounds like Lorant is putting up a good fight.”
Days spent in this cell with nothing but his thoughts prepared Lukas for this, in some abstract way. Never a brave man, he knew he wanted to die like a prince and make his father proud, not weeping and blubbering. And he knew he would not give Zaraki the satisfaction of seeing him plead or beg for his life. Turning his back, he sank to his knees and tried to keep the quaver out of his voice. “Please, make it quick.”
“I could,” Zaraki said, pushing Lukas’s head to one side and reaching around with his other hand. “But I won’t.”
A proper cut, as he learned as a boy, bit deep and divided the artery on the side of the neck. Death came quick as the victim hemorrhaged. Too shallow or poorly placed and the unlucky fellow would drown, choking on his own blood. Growing up, they practiced both.
This night, Lukas of Embriel died slowly, bleeding his life out onto the cell floor.
Aniska emerged from Lorant’s prison looking feral and satisfied; a cat with its kill, her pupils dilated wide and her lips parted as she panted. “Lorant cried a lot more than I expected. Do you feel any better now they’ve been dealt with?”
“I do,” Zaraki said, wiping the blood off his blade. “I feel like I should be concerned about the political consequences, but I’m not.”
“She’ll never take the killer out of the king,” Ani said with a grin.
Walking out, they asked the boy on the stool to send someone to clean up the bodies.
Zaraki washed himself in a trough outside and changed into the clothes he had brought down with him. There would be no trace or smell of blood on him when he got back to their rooms.
His beautiful, haunted wife lay on her side, still sleeping peacefully. She looked relaxed, and he slipped into bed, wrapping his arms around her. He hoped this blood sacrifice might satisfy some god and release her from her prison. At least now, he understood the nightmares that chased her since returning.
As he drifted off to sleep, he kissed the top of Leisha’s head, thinking Ani was right. He felt no remorse for these deaths tonight.
***
In the morning, before Leisha woke up, Zaraki went to Ani’s room again and together they went in search of Symon. “You heard what she said already, so there’s no violating her confidence. I don’t want everyone knowing about this, though.”
“Of course, friend,” she said kindly.
They found Symon walking in the courtyard, as he usually did early in the morning. “Has Leisha made a decision about Lukas and Lorant?” he asked as they approached. He did not care if both prisoners rotted to death in the cells below. But Andrzej’s reply to their letter arrived yesterday and had been cool at best. It did not seem likely Lukas’s father would offer terms for his return.
“I reached a decision and their sentences were carried out last night,” Zaraki said.
The older man nodded, signaling his approval. “Good for both of you. It needed to be done. I’ll tell the captains so they can spread the word through camp. The men will love it.”
“I need your advice.” After making sure no one else could hear, Zaraki told their friend everything, everything Leisha had said the day before.
Symon stopped walking in the middle of the story and they huddled together in a quiet corner of the yard. “Gods above,” he said, looking sick. “She’s known about this since Lida and never said a word?”
“She never said a word to me about it, but yes, she’s known since Lida.” Zaraki almost regretted killing Lukas last night. With Gerolt out of reach for now, having a convenient target for his outrage had been satisfying.
Ever mindful of Leisha’s reputation and how it affected the army, Symon suggested they go inside as the castle came awake. Soon curious ears would be about, and they did not need to hear this. Inside the library he asked, “How is she doing now?”
Sprawling in a chair, Zaraki realized he felt hopeful for the first time in days. “I don’t know yet. Yesterday, I would’ve said broken, but she slept through the night for the first time in over a week. Once she wakes up, we’ll see. She’s traumatized by what Gerolt showed her. I’m not saying she’ll decide to abdicate and flee, but I want to give her choices. I want her to know what avenues are open to her. How would we make a queen disappear?”
Symon thought about it for a minute or two. “Well, it shouldn’t be that hard for her if it’s what she wants. Cut her hair, dress appropriately, bring whoever wants to come with us and we travel light. She still has buckets of tiny gems and jewels we can sell easily and discreetly. Enough to keep all of us in a similar manner to which we’ve become accustomed.”
Aniska spoke up. “The hard part will be staying out of the hands of anyone who would turn her over to Gerolt. We could go to Meszdra maybe—somewhere she isn’t known on sight. It would take the Deojrin years to reach us if they could. Or Sarika’s people might take us in.”
Their friends’ loyalty touched Zaraki deeply. That they would even consider joining them in exile was an unexpected gift. “Thank you, both. I’d like to revisit this later, but she may feel differently today. We’ll see.” They all sat in silence until he made a face, not wanting to give voice to his thoughts, but he had promised. “One other thing. I swore if they came for her, I would—” He stopped, unable to force the words out today.
“Stop,” Aniska said, holding up a hand. “I’ll do it for both of you and I’ll make sure Jan, Eli and Eamon are aware too. She’s our employer, not yours.”
“Thank you. I need to get back with breakfast. I don’t want her waking up without me there. We’ll see how today goes. I’ll let you know at lunch. Tell Andelko, I’ll help him write more letters to our reluctant lords then.”
After he left, Aniska looked down at the table, absently drawing circles with one finger. “Leisha’s my employer no matter where she is. Her position doesn’t change that, but do you think she’ll decide to abdicate?”
“No,” Symon said with confidence. “No, something will make her angry. It will come roaring back to life and she’ll want to win this confrontation. I forget you haven’t always been here.”
He chuckled. “I’ve known Leisha since she was born. When she was two and Andrzej demanded her as a hostage, I took her to Embriel, away from her home, her parents, everything she had ever known. She never cried once.” He smiled at the memory. “Do you know what finally made her cry? When she met him in the castle at Arnost, Andrzej refused to call her princess. He kept calling her Leisha and it infuriated her.”
Aniska laughed, and then said, “I wonder if she realizes Gerolt did this on purpose?”
Scowling, Symon looked up from the papers he had started to gather. “What?”
“Gerolt. He showed her those visions on purpose.” It made perfect sense as soon as she said it. “It wasn’t just a threat. It was deliberate, meant to scare her, to demoralize her, to put her on the defensive before the war even got started.”
Symon could only stare at her, papers forgotten in his hands, as he imagined how much Leisha would hate this and how he might bring it up to her.
***
When Zaraki got back to their room, he found Leisha sitting up in bed, reading the little book of poems. For the first time in a week, he thought she looked calm. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“Unburdened and maybe a little better. Hungry, too,” Her voice sounded hoarse from yesterday but also stronger and more confident.
“Really?” Surprised at this change after days of seeing her oscillate between passivity and paralyzing terrors, he took a risk. “Would you like to come downstairs? Maybe being around friends will help.”
In an instant, the moment vanished and he cursed silently.
Leisha sucked in a swift breath and her hands started to shake. Clasping them together, she knew the time had come for her last secret. “I want to. I do.” She stopped and shook her head, loose strands of dark hair falling around her face. “But I’m so afraid. I don’t want everyone to see how broken I am.”
She looked away, her voice a whisper he could barely hear. “Zaraki, sometimes I think I’ve gone mad, and I’m afraid of what you and the others will do now that you know.” There. It was done. She steeled herself, waiting for his reaction.
He stared at her, thinking surely she said it in jest, but when she did not laugh or smile, he realized she meant it. Here, then, lay the real secret, the thing she had tried to outrun and hide from him. This explained her huddling in their room, stiff and alone, returning to the cloistered life she fashioned for herself before she learned to trust others. He could only imagine the breadcrumb trail she had conjured to bring her to this conclusion.
As Dragons from Sleep (The Tahaerin Chronicles Book 2) Page 29
