by Quinn Loftis
Her head shot up as irritation replaced the timidity she had previously been expressing, which was exactly what I wanted to happen.
“What?” she snapped back.
“Are you ordering us to leave? Is that what you really want, or is Cathal making you?”
“Of course, he is not making me. I have my own mind.”
“I know that you do. And I see no sense in this action. Which means he must be threatening you somehow,” I said, leaning forward slightly so I could see her pupils. The eyes revealed so much about a person, sometimes more than words.
“I would not belittle myself in such a way. Not to protect myself from harm.” Her voice fluctuated a small amount when she said the word “myself’. She was trying to communicate something.
She turned, looking back at Cathal, and then spoke. “Please take your leave. Beatrice has arrived, and Cathal’s men have brought the food.”
Before I could argue, she turned and walked away. Her steps were slow and measured, almost as if she was walking to the gallows to be hung. It ripped my heart to pieces to be unable to protect her. I had to stand by like a damn spectator while the woman destined to be mine was verbally and physically abused.
When Allete reached Cathal, she glanced over shoulder. Seeing us still standing there, she motioned for us to leave, her face betraying no emotion. She was blank, as if a colorful canvas had been ripped away and a fresh one put in its place. I knew that if Allete married Cathal, her blank canvas would be replaced with muted grays and deep blacks. The colorful young lady I was coming to know would be gone forever.
“We must go now,” said Brant. “That girl with Allete seems intelligent. He will not try anything with a witness around, and we must not disobey orders. Do you want to give Cathal an excuse to have us replaced? Because disobedience would certainly be sufficient grounds.”
My soul was screaming at me to go after her. I just did not know how to do that without getting myself beheaded. Reluctantly, I grunted my agreement.
Brant began walking, and I followed, but my boots felt as if they had a mind of their own, struggling with every step to turn and rush back to her. I felt a great weight pressing on my shoulders as well, impending my movement even more. But Brant was not having it. He placed his hand on my back, practically shoving me along beside him.
“Don’t make this any worse on yourself. Besides, this will give us a chance to check and see how the other men are doing,” Brant suggested.
He was right. It was the perfect time to make sure my men were safe, or at least as safe as they could be. Regardless of my feelings for Allete, I could not forget the mission. With those thoughts in mind, I could move of my own accord. I still did not like leaving her, but there was only so far I could push before Cathal decided to petition King Albric to replace me or have me seriously punished for insubordination. The latter would not surprise me.
“I wonder if there is a way to get in contact with my mother,” I said. Not only did I want to make sure my mother was safe, but I also needed reassurance. Was the prophecy still the same? Or had Cathal’s presence altered it somehow? The prophecy had not mentioned my queen was already betrothed.
An hour later, Brant and I had discreetly checked on our comrades. They were each watchful, doing mundane guard duties as they awaited my further instructions. None had any information as to the shouted reports of Northmen we had heard earlier. Once I had given each man encouragement and further orders to remain in place, we walked back to where we had left Allete. Surely their noon meal was over by now. I just hoped that Cathal hadn’t led Allete away from their picnic spot. I would likely panic if I did not see that she was safe, and that wouldn’t help anyone. A hiss caught my attention. I glanced in the direction of the noise and saw a form hidden behind a wagon full of bags of wheat.
I patted Brant’s arm and motioned him to follow me. As soon as I was close enough, a hand reached out and grabbed my arm, jerking me forward. I started to protest until saw who it was.
“Oracle,” I said bowing low.
“Tsk, tsk, none of that. Give me a hug, boy. I have been worried. None of the other soldiers had news of your wellbeing.”
I wrapped my arms around my mother’s small form and breathed in her familiar scent. I was relieved to see that she was safe.
She pushed away and reached for Brant. He leaned around me to give her a hug as well.
“Now then,” she began, her eyes were dancing with joy. “You have met her.” It was not a question.
“Have you seen something?” I asked, wanting to know the answer but fearful that it would not be something I wanted to hear.
“You have met your match, Torben.” My mother looked entirely too pleased with herself.
“She’s what any man would want in a woman,” I responded. “Feisty, strong, vulnerable, infuriating, and bold. If Cathal gets her, he will destroy her and steal away any semblance of who she is now.” My heart beat painfully in my chest, and my hands were clenched into tight fists. I was hanging onto my control, but it was quickly slipping away.
My mother placed a hand on my arm. “I still see her as your bride. But the path to that future will not be an easy one, I’m afraid.” Suddenly my mother’s eyes lost focus, and she grew very still. We were in the presence of the Oracle. When she began to speak, I closed my eyes, attempting to add images to her words.
“Death, pain, lies, betrayal, love, joy and life all stand between you and your union with Allete. It will be your perseverance, integrity, determination, need, and love that will lead you to your destiny. Nothing great and beautiful and right happens without struggle. It is the growth in the journey that gives meaning to the ultimate outcome. You must be strong, Torben, future king of your people. You must not falter, and you must not give up on your destiny. If you do, your beloved will be surrounded in darkness, instead of your light. She will be punished with pain, instead of touched out of love and desire. Should you fail, your beloved will be stripped bare until she is just an empty shell. Only then will her captor grant her death.”
Her words hit me like a cannon ball. The breath was knocked from my lungs, and had not Brant grabbed me beneath my arms, I would have landed on my knees. I hung my head down as the words, should I fail, beat against my head.
“There is hope, son,” my mother said, her voice returning to normal. “She is not gone. She is still here, and she still has your protection.” She lifted my head and stared into my eyes. “You are one of the strongest men I have ever known. I do not just mean physically. When you make a decision, there is nothing that can stand between you and what you want. Do you want Allete? Do you want to be the one who provides for her, protects her, and fights with and for her? Do you want to love her?”
There was no hesitation when I spoke. “With everything inside of me.”
“Then you have to be the one that makes it so. You. Others will help you, and you will need their help. Ultimately, you will be their commander, and you will be the one to lead them to victory.”
I felt the iron will that my mother spoke of rise like a phoenix from the ashes inside of me. As usual, my mother was right. I was relentless when I set my sights on something, and now I had. Not something, but someone—someone to inspire me to be relentless.
“Go now,” my mother said, pushing us back the way we had come. “Protect her with your life. She is not just what saves our people. She is what saves you as well.”
I had no idea what she meant, and I knew she would not explain it to me, so I did not bother asking. Instead I gave her forehead a quick kiss and then marched back in the direction of the castle—in the direction of Allete. And I beseeched every god I knew that she was unharmed.
“I have been told many times that trial is what makes us stronger. Facing adversity builds character. That no great leader can learn to be great without going through great challenges. I am beginning to think that being great is a tad over rated.”
* * *
~Diary of Prin
cess Allete Auvray
Watching Torben and Brant walk away was one of the scariest things I had ever had to do. But I had no choice. When Cathal had threatened me with lashes if I did not do what he wanted, he saw in my eyes that physical harm wasn’t going to be enough to control me. But then he threatened who I love most—Dayna. The things he had said he would do to her caused bile to rise in my throat. There was nothing I would not do to keep my sisters, both of them, safe.
As soon as my guards were out of view, Cathal pulled me farther into the grove of trees while Beatrice followed. She was a beautiful young woman. Probably not much older than me. When we were sufficiently masked from prying eyes, Cathal jerked me, unnecessarily, to a stop. He looked at Beatrice, and she practically withered under his glare.
“You will watch for any interruptions. You will not speak a word of what you hear or see. If you do, that worthless husband of yours will find out all about the times you asked me into your bed. How do you think he would feel about our affair? What about your children? How would they view their mother if they knew you were so easily led from your own marriage bed?”
Beatrice’s lip trembled as she nodded her understanding.
Cathal sneered at the terrified woman and then spit at her feet. “Weak. Pathetic. I do not know why I ever wanted you.”
When she turned to face me, her eyes met mine. I tried so hard to convey that I did not blame her. I would not hold her silence against her. She wiped the tears away and then turned to face outward, obeying Cathal’s instructions. Not because she did not have a choice, but because the choices before her were both soul ripping ones to make. Beatrice did not make the choice she thought she could live with. She made the choice that would keep those she loved alive.
My attention was drawn away from Beatrice when I felt Cathal’s breath on my neck. I would rather a thousand ants crawl all over me than have him breathing on me. I shivered, and he chuckled.
“You aren’t as stoic as you pretend, are you, lover?” he whispered against my ear.
“This is completely inappropriate, my lord.” I knew it would not work. Cathal cared about the appropriateness of his actions about as much as he cared about women in general.
His hand wrapped around my throat, and he began backing me up until I was pressed against a tree. The bark bit in to my back painfully. He pushed harder when he noticed my slight flinch at the pain. Cathal pressed his body closer until he was touching me from thigh to chest. As he held my throat with one hand, he gripped my waist with the other, digging in with his fingers. I had yet to fight back at this point. I knew that it would only make things worse, and I decided that I could live with anything he did, unless he tried to take my innocence. But if he began attempting to remove clothing, the claws were coming out.
He began kissing my neck while he whispered to me. “You will not make a noise. You will not refuse me. You will give yourself to me freely, or I swear to you the things I will do to your sister will give you nightmares for the rest of your pathetic life. And if that is not enough to make you behave, then I will behead your guard, the one that cannot keep his eyes off you. But I would not kill him until he had watched me take your body over and over again.” The kissing continued long after the threats had ended. He never kissed me on the lips, only my neck, collar bone and across the tops of my breasts. His hands did not caress me, but he pushed his body against mine in a repulsive rhythm, which I imagined looked like an undulating snake climbing a tree.
I gasped when he bit into my flesh again, though not nearly as hard as he had the first time. This time he not only bit, but he also sucked on my skin until it felt as if he was going to rip it off. He was marking me. He was ensuring that when I looked in the mirror I would see the evidence of what he had done to me.
I do not know how long he stood there, molesting me with his mouth and body. But some time later, I saw them walk out from the shadows of the trees. Beatrice did not see them because they crept quietly up from behind her vantage point. I tried not to stiffen, to alert Cathal that there was something amiss. But the emotions I felt when I saw Torben made this almost impossible.
Torben was shaking. He was a volcano on the verge of erupting and destroying everything in his path. I shook my head slightly while mouthing, ‘no’ to them. I pleaded with my eyes for them to obey me. He was so headstrong that I feared he would ignore my desperate request.
Instead of leaving, like I had hoped he would do, Torben stood there with Brant’s hand on his shoulder holding him back. His eyes held mine, and I could not look away. I wanted so badly to close my eyes and pretend that none of it was happening. I knew it was not my fault, but it was still embarrassing to have Torben, whom I was coming to care so deeply for, watch as this monster defiled me. It was bad enough that I had to endure it. I did not want Torben having this memory of me.
His eyes took on a glassy sheen. After a moment, I realized that he had unshed tears in his beautiful silver eyes. Tears for me. My chest tightened as I forced myself not to react. I was on the verge of crying, but I did not want to give Cathal the satisfaction of seeing tears that he did not deserve. As I continued to stare back at Torben, I contemplated why he would cry for me. A guard who had only known me a couple of weeks was shaking with rage and holding back tears for me. He cared. Torben cared for me, and not just as a friend. My brow drew together, and my lips trembled as I absorbed this new knowledge, and he could see in my eyes that I knew. I did not know if the man loved me, but there was certainly something there—something that could, perhaps, grow into love one day.
As I stared back at him, unable to look away because of the tears he would dare shed for me, I realized that what I felt for him could easily turn into love as well. What had I done to earn such a cruel fate? To be given away like a prize horse and then to find an honorable man with whom I knew, given enough time, I could fall in love. How was I to endure such agony? How could I marry Cathal, go to his kingdom, and be touched by him against my will, knowing Torben was out there in the world? I would have rather had my life end than be tethered to a man such as Cathal. He was a vile, despicable man with a twisted soul and an evil heart. But how could I get out of marrying him, short of death?
I was pulled out of my own mind when Cathal finally stepped back. His mouth was curved into a perverse smile, and his eyes danced with madness. I fought the tremor that wanted to travel through my body. I didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of any response from me. I kept my face blank and emotionless as I stared back at him.
He released my throat and ran a finger down my neck. “You will do everything I ask from this point forward. If you do not, those you love will be the ones who bear my wrath.”
For a moment, I was worried he would turn and spot Torben and Brant. To my relief, however, he walked past me in the opposite direction of my guards.
“I will see you at dinner,” he called over his shoulder without looking back. Cathal snapped his fingers, and Beatrice jumped before scurrying after him.
Less than a minute later, Torben was standing in front of me. His eyes practically glowed with rage, and his hands trembled as he lifted them to my face. His touch was incredibly gentle, despite the size and roughness of his hands. He lifted my chin and ran a finger down my neck and across my collar bone. His mouth tightened into a straight line, and his breathing quickened the longer he stared at me. His anger was nearly palpable.
“Why?” he said in a quiet growl. “Why would you not let me come to you?”
“It would have been your word against the word of a king, Torben. Who do you think would be believed? And even if my father didn’t believe Cathal, he would not be able to punish him. It would start a war. Cathal is more powerful, has more money, and a larger army at his disposal. He would demand your death, and my father wouldn’t be able to save you. I wouldn’t be able to save you.” My voice trembled as I imagined Torben with a noose around his strong neck. No. I would not let that happen. No matter what I had to endure. I would n
ot let anyone I care for be hurt by the evil king.
“My fate is my own choice. Not yours,” he told me. “I decide what risks to take. That responsibility should not fall on your shoulders, Princess.”
I nearly collapsed under the emotion behind his words. This was not just a guard doing his duty. This was a man needing to protect something precious to him. As he leaned his forehead against mine and took a deep breath, inhaling my scent, I closed my eyes and allowed myself a minute to find comfort in his touch. I needed to compose myself before anyone else saw me. Especially Dayna. She would know in a heartbeat that something was amiss.
“I have to release you before someone sees me touching you in such a manner. Would that I could take you captive and leave this place. I need to protect you, Allete. The things Cathal is capable of make me sick. Thinking about you being the object of his attention makes me completely capable of cold-blooded murder.”
I gasped as I heard the absolute certainty in his voice. He would kill for me without reservation. Torben would kill Cathal and probably not feel an ounce of regret. Perhaps such a thing should frighten me. Instead, it made me feel protected.
When he stepped away, I suddenly felt very alone and exposed. His stout frame had sheltered me from the scary things in the world. But he wasn’t mine. I couldn’t hide behind him from my fate. I would have to face it head on and deal with the consequences on my own.
I raised my chin and straightened my dress. “Would you please accompany me back to my chambers and then send for Lidia?”
Torben bowed his head slightly. “As you wish, my lady.”
My steps were quick, though I attempted to project an outward appearance of calm. I had no idea if I was succeeding in my endeavor, but I’d be damned if I cowered like a wilted flower in my own home. Cathal may have scared me, but he had not broken me—not yet anyway.