The Battle for Astodia
Page 13
“Very well then.” I raised a hand, signaling for a hard blow across the jaw. I stopped them by closing my hand into a fist. “Enough.”
Lance spat out blood. “Go ahead. Let them rip me to pieces. It’s still not as bad as what you’ve done to me.”
“Answer me.”
“Never,” he sneered, just as he was pushed off the chair and onto his knees. “You’ll never break me. I won’t let you do it again.”
“Answer me.”
He smiled a smile that stabbed me in the chest.
“Just answer the question,” I hissed. “Answer it and you
won’t get hurt.”
“Try me.”
Without warning, he was kicked in the side. He rolled onto
his back and groaned, trying to regain his posture. I wanted to tear my eyes away, to disappear.
“Kill me,” he whispered. “Do it. Please.”
The boot came down on his hand next and he cried out in pain. I sucked in a breath through my teeth.
“Answer the question.” I’d dealt with stubborn prisoners before, but Lance was starting to get to me. I was getting frustrated with him.
“No.” The next time, he was struck with so much force that he spat blood at the guard’s feet, and then wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. As Lance regained his sturdiness, he looked at my face. “Is that all you’ve got?”
He was finally pulled back in the chair. He was coughing hard, his head down.
“Are you ready?”
“Tell the guards to leave,” Lance whispered hoarsely. “Get them out.”
I nodded towards the guards and they, trained to obey every command, exited. We were alone.
I opened my mouth to say something, but he got there first.
“Don’t say you’re sorry,” he spat, clutching his stomach, his face contorting into a grimace. “Don’t ever tell me you’re sorry, because sorry won’t fix anything.”
My mouth snapped shut. I deserved it. Every single bit of his anger and venomous words.
“Hating you,” he laughed, “is the easiest part. You needn’t ask me twice. Now,” he ripped off his bloody gloves, “forgetting you won’t be easy. These bruises and scars,” he pointed at all the places he’d been hurt by the guards, “will remind me forever of your love and mercy.” He was laughing. “Silly, isn’t it?”
“I deserve it,” was all I managed to say.
“You deserve more. I wish your prince would realize your incapability of feeling and get rid of you. You’re a monster.”
“I am trained to follow orders,” I said, narrowing my eyes.
“Here’s your answer; we planned to get rid of your prince so that we could have an opening to the king. But now you have me, and the prince is alive, so I don’t know what’s happening.”
“That’s not a good enough answer,” I pressed.
“I don’t know!” he yelled. “Won’t you just leave me alone? Haven’t you done enough?”
“You aren’t giving me a chance to speak,” I said, suddenly deadly quiet.
“You have nothing to say to me.”
He was right. I was at a loss for words.
He laughed, but there was no humor in his voice. He looked so tired, so hurt. “You’re an assassin?”
“Yes.”
“Then do your job.” When I didn’t say anything, he sighed, letting his head fall into his hands. “They never tell me anything. All of us, everyone except the leaders, just sit there and wait for news. We don’t do much; we’re just pawns. All of us. If there’s a war, we’ll be fighting. We do the dirty work while the leaders plan. We’re alright this way. We have food and a roof over our heads.” His voice suddenly got low.
“I know, Lance, but you have to give me something substantial. I can’t go back to him empty-handed—it won’t be good for both of us.”
He sat back in the chair. “You can bring the guards in. That’s all I have to say.” I watched him move slowly, achingly. Then I turned on my heel and walked out, shutting the
door behind me. The guards were waiting outside.
“Don’t touch him,” I said as I left. “He needs some time to think. We can still use him to our advantage.”
“As you wish,” the guards took a bow and stood on either side of the door, their hands on the hilts of their swords.
“I knew you were a fake, ever since I let you go there,” the king snarled. “I knew before that you weren’t fit for this, and now you’ll pay the price for betrayal.”
“She deserves it,” another voice laughed. I looked up to see Lance, clean and healthy, tall with his boyish face and his light dirty-blond hair smoothed back. His white tunic was startlingly clean, and his brown pants were tear-free. The gloves were back on his hands, his light green eyes shone—not with care, but ice. His smile was cold.
I tried to move and call out to him, but I was frozen. My arms were chained behind me.
“What to do with her?” another voice asked. It was Darren, the blond boy with the bright blue eyes.
“I trusted her,” Lorelle sighed, her light brown hair swept in a braid over her shoulder. “We all did.”
“She should be hung.” Lance leaned in front of me, a smirk plastered on his pale face.
“No,” I tried to say. I couldn’t breathe.
“Yes.” The king laughed. “That would do it. The boy should do the honors.”
A rope appeared in Lance’s fingers as he leaned over to slip it around my neck.
“No!” I yelled, ripping away from the chains. I reached forward to find a knife in my hand.
Lance raised his palm, and the blade cut through.
“I’m so sorry,” I breathed, backing away.
“Adalia,” he said. “Adalia.” The blood swirled from his palm onto the ground. I was drowning. He was shaking me.
I gasped, sitting upright. I had to blink to clear my vision. My hands trembled.
“Adalia!” the voice yelled again, and I looked up to see a dark figure over the edge of my bed. Xavier sucked in a breath between his teeth. “You just tore my hand open.”
“What?” I looked down to see the same gray dagger I kept under my pillow, gripped in my hand. It was stained with reddish black liquid. “Oh. I’m sorry. Let me get something to clean it up,” I groaned, getting to my feet. The sudden cold from the tiled floor gave my feet a little shock. Xavier clutched his wrist, blood dripping down his arm.
He let out a hiss of pain. “You had a bad dream and decided it’s best to stab me when I tried to wake you up.”
I grabbed a small white hand towel. “What were you doing in my room anyway?”
“Just checking on you as I’ve always done.” He gave me a teasing smile.
“Really? How come I never hear you?”
“You’re a deep sleeper,” he smiled. “You snore.”
“I do not!”
“Like a little baby bear.” Xavier grinned, his golden eyes shining in the dim moonlight peeking in from behind the window. I grabbed his hand and put the towel over it, trying to
clean it for him.
“Tell me about Lance,” he suddenly said. Lance. The towel slipped from my fingers.
I quickly bent down to pick it up, averting my gaze. “He’s not important.”
“You wouldn’t have that reaction if he was a no one.”
I reached down to pick up the towel with a scowl on my face. “He’s nobody.”
“Maybe he is, but not to you,” he noted. I grabbed his hand and started dabbing at the wound. “Adalia, I need a straight answer.” He gripped my shoulders and then winced, forgetting that his palm was gaping open. My white nightgown was stained with scarlet blood. I ignored him and pulled his cold fingers away from my shoulder, bringing the towel across his bloody wound to clear it up.
“Adalia.”
“Why are you so interested?”
“Because every time I say that name, you look like you’re going to kill someone. Like that.” He p
ointed at my face with his good hand.
“Adalia . . .” Xavier said, confused. His golden eyes searched my face, trying to uncover all of my secrets.
Scarlet drops spattered the floor.
“Let me clean your hand.” My scowl got deeper as I fumbled with his sleeve, trying to tie it up before he pulled it away to act silly again.
“I’m going to have to meet him.”
I pressed my finger into his wound. He grunted in pain. “You did that on purpose,” he looked down into my eyes, hurt.
“Don’t you dare do anything without my permission.”
NINETEEN
“You still won’t talk?”
“No,” he whispered. “I have nothing to say.” The guard raised a booted foot to kick him in the stomach for the fifth time today, and I bit my lip, drawing blood, to keep myself from stabbing the man in the chest.
“I didn’t give an order,” I snapped at the guard. “You’re going to kill him.” I turned to Lance. “Lance, for goodness sake. Say anything.”
“Anything.” He muttered. The entire left side of his face was purple and starting to swell.
“Now is not the time to joke!” I shouted, slamming my fist against the wall when suddenly someone rapped loudly on the door. I relaxed my shoulders, wiping strands of hair from my sweaty forehead. The guard opened the door.
Xavier walked in. I was expecting him to do so after the revelation last night. “Xavier,” I sighed, feeling miserable. “Please.”
“Dismissed,” he told the guards.
When we were alone, Xavier took the old wooden seat meant for Lance and sighed melodramatically. “Lance, Lance, Lance.”
I knelt beside Lance and grabbed his arm. He grimaced, shrinking away from me. He ripped his arm out of my grasp and staggered to his feet, leaning against the wall. “What is he . . . What is he doing here?” He nodded towards Xavier.
I turned to set my glare on Xavier. “He’s not going to do anything. Now,” I said, taking a deep breath, “I will make sure you’re treated well. I’ll give you whatever you want. Just . . . say something.”
“Okay,” Lance said, and it seemed as if all the weight he’d been holding up on his shoulders finally came crashing down on him. He slumped in defeat. “We were planning to kill the king. It’s going to be in . . . a week. There will be a surprise attack. They’ve already got people planted all over the castle. You can’t stop it now.”
Xavier’s eyes widened. All traces of humor disappeared from his face. He leaned closer to Lance. “You better not be lying for your sake.”
Lance shook his head. He’d finally confessed. He’d caved in. It was too much for him.
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” I said to Lance, standing up. “I’ll make sure you leave this Dungeon. I never wanted this to happen. I can promise you that.”
“Don’t promise me anything,” Lance said, his eyes turning cold again. “Nothing.”
Xavier’s eyes caught mine, and he frowned. I felt exhausted.
TWENTY
“Move him to a better cell and leave him there,” I ordered the guards. Then, I went to visit the king and inform him of the news.
“Do you know what the next step is?”
I stared at his cold face without emotion. “I might, sir.”
“Do talk then,” he beckoned, moving his hand in the air. A humorless smile crawled across his lips.
“You will notify the rebels,” I told him. “They will negotiate. The leader for her son, and then you will come to an agreement on how to settle this. . .” I waved my hand in the air, “Rebellion.”
“Correct. And you will help me, as usual.”
“As usual,” I bowed, earning a pleased smile from His Majesty. I had never felt like such a puppet.
Maybe I should’ve started a hate list a while ago, because today, the king was at the top.
“Stop!” I ordered the guard. I straightened out my scarlet and black head guard uniform before saying, “Where are you going?” He froze.
“The prisoner’s cell, sir.” He stood tall, turning to face me. I walked up so close to him that I could feel his breath on my face. It was funny, really, how he was so much taller than me he had to look down at me when in real life, I was the one looking down at him.
“To do what exactly?” I raised an eyebrow, watching his young appearance closely. His blue eyes darted away for a second, and then met mine.
“Uh. . .” The guard’s ears turned visibly red under his cap.
“If you were going to meet the prisoner, I would ask you if you have gotten any specific orders or permission from anyone of a higher rank to do so.”
“No, sir!”
“So what are you doing here?”
He gulped. “Nothing. Sir,” he quickly added.
I narrowed my eyes for a second and then stepped back, giving him space—but not too much—just to keep him on his toes. He let out a breath of relief, as if he’d been holding it for a long time.
“I’ll just . . . I’ll be leaving now.” He rubbed the back of his neck. I had to hold back a smile. He was so young and boyish. How had he become a guard here? I didn’t remember him from training. Most of the guards I remembered all too well when they tried to play jokes on me after I put them through hell on practice days.
“You do that,” I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest and tapping the front of my boot against the ground. He nodded, turning around, his ears bright red. “Hold on, what did you say your name was?”
He flinched, as if unhappy that I’d stopped him. “I didn’t.”
“Well do tell,” I urged, raising an eyebrow.
“Hunter,” he spoke without looking at me, and continued walking.
“Oh, and Hunter,” I called out, amusement coloring my
voice, “join the guards at the gates outside. Your duty is needed there, not wandering suspiciously around the castle.”
At that moment, I expected him to spin around and try to kill me, for the heat outside was unbearable today. My hand slid to the knife in my belt. One flick of my wrist and this would be buried in his heart.
But all he did was nod. “As you wish,” he said, and then he disappeared from my sight.
Rolling my eyes, I turned around and walked away, towards the grand staircase that descended towards the polished wooden doors to the entrance of the castle.
“Sword up,” I ordered. “Your hands are all wrong.”
“Wasn’t I the one who trained you?”
“It doesn’t really seem like it, Xavier.”
“Why don’t you show me how?” he said with a smile, holding out the hilt of his sword.
“I’m going to leave if you’re not serious,” I snapped. “I’m not in the mood for this.”
“You know I’m starting to worry about you,” Xavier’s hand fell, the tip of the sword digging into the ground.
“I don’t need your concern.”
“You’ve got a thick skull, has anyone ever told you that?”
“You’d be the first, and last if you keep it up,” I crossed my arms over my chest. He’d be the second, I thought as I remembered sparring against Demetria. She’d said the same thing.
“Okay, come with me,” Xavier said, beckoning me with his hand. “Come on.”
“Where?”
“Come with me and don’t ask questions.”
“Wait!” I sputtered as he grabbed my hand in his cold one. “What are you—”
“I said don’t ask questions,” he smirked, and then he took off, running, gripping my fingers tightly. We ran through the gates of the training grounds and through the streets, far into the forests, past little houses and random people and little carriages, and I never remembered going out this far from the castle without a mission. But now, with Xavier, we were zooming through the streets, laughing as we tripped over people’s feet as they moved back to give the prince and the girl dressed in her royal uniform way. Finally, I had to pull him to a stop.
“Why did you bring me here?” I asked, only slightly out of breath.
Xavier breathed in and out, trying to speak. “Wait. We’re not there yet.”
We leaned against a door of a shop until the owner came out shouting, realizing a moment too late who Xavier was.
I laughed as he bowed to Xavier, beginning for forgiveness. We made our grand escape, ignoring startled shouts from people we kept bumping in to. Xavier took a short break again, and I grinned at him.
“You’re such a child.”
He smiled, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “Only for you.” We started up a run again. When we finally stopped, I took in my surroundings.
It was beautiful. I couldn’t help but sigh as I looked at around me. It was a large lake with tiny ducklings and geese, swans arching their necks gracefully. Pink blossoms hung from trees, creating a beautiful frame for the lake. The water was crystal clear, the sky reflecting off it, little white clouds forming across the thin glassy layer. Inside, dozens of schools of fish darted around, enjoying their breathtaking home.
“How did you find this place?” I asked breathlessly, and it wasn’t because of the run.
He sat under a tree. Pink petals patterned the green grass. “This is one of the only places untouched by humans in this whole kingdom.”
I sat next to him. “So why did you bring me here?” I asked after a while of listening to squawking geese.
“This is where I come to get my mind off things.”
“Why would you need to get your mind off things?”
He didn’t answer for a while. He lay on the grass, his arms under his head, his eyes closed. Then he said softly, “You may be a trained assassin, one of the best that has ever existed. But there is still so much you don’t understand.”
“The sun is setting,” I whispered.
“Come, let me do your hair,” a woman’s voice spoke. I looked up, smiling at her.
“I can’t. I have to do something for the king.”
“Is it another assassination?” the queen asked, trying to suppress a shudder.
I shrugged. “It’s what I’m good at.”
She nodded. “As you wish,” she sighed, tossing her silky hair over her shoulder. She was beautiful. No wonder she was the queen.