Oath of the Outcast

by C M Banschbach

  The sounds of the sea grew louder as they rode west, the low hills changing to flatter ground. Off in the distance, white gulls swooped low over an endless grey. Lush green turned to the thinner pale strands of the coastal grass. The dirt road shifted to cobblestones as the towers of Castle Bright came into view.

  They took the back ways through the city up to the towering castle. Parading the secretive Mountain Baron through the streets might raise some uncomfortable questions for Lord Adam.

  The company drew to a halt once inside the walls. Kane dragged Rhys from his horse and shoved him into the great hall.

  Adam paced in front of the chair on the dais, a sight that irked Rhys even more knowing that Damon was still alive. Adam signaled with a flick of his fingers, and Kane brought Rhys down with a kick to his knees.

  “I have to admit, you had a fairly good plan, didn’t you?” Adam spoke first. “Always bold and daring as I recall. That must have been why Damon liked you so much. Where is he, by the way?”

  “Like I’d tell you?”

  A blow to his face knocked Rhys off balance. His cheek stung as the coppery taste of blood moistened his tongue.

  Adam smiled tightly. “Well, you will, one way or another. Kane’s been rather eager to see you again.”

  Rhys righted himself and said nothing. He squeezed his fists against the fear that threatened from old memories.

  “You know, of all the people to come, I really didn’t expect you.” Adam descended the stairs to stand directly in front of him. He crossed his arms as he looked down at Rhys. “How is Laird Brogan these days? Did he invite you into his hall, or did he meet you by a ditch somewhere?”

  Rhys clenched his jaw, looking past Adam. It wasn’t a real question. Adam would just probe until he found the weakness.

  “And your father?” Adam leaned close, exposing the hints of grey at his temples. “I’m sure he’s proud of the man you’ve become. An outlaw, a murderer, forced to deny your very existence.”

  Anger propelled Rhys to his feet. The Talam had softened enough to welcome him as a guest in the house. That told Rhys that the Talam hadn’t completely disowned him yet.

  The soldiers shoved Rhys back down to his knees, pinning him in place. Adam smiled, and Kane laughed as Rhys cursed to himself.

  “Make him comfortable somewhere,” Adam ordered, his features nauseatingly smug. “I’ll give you some time to consider choosing the easier alternative. You don’t have anyone to rescue you this time around.”

  Rhys kept his face neutral as he was led away to the dungeons, grateful to have some time to prepare himself for what was to come.

  Chapter 21

  Chanting druids surrounded Sean as Alan’s lifeless body lay nearby. Rhys’s men dangled from roadside gallows, and Kane advanced on Damon with bloody sword in hand. The sunlight shone excruciatingly bright. The prince looked at Rhys, betrayal in his eyes.

  “You did this. You killed them all. You failed me again!”

  “No.” Panic filled him. A hot wind stung at his exposed skin.

  “Traitor!” The words came from Sean. “You betrayed us all!”

  “No!”

  Rhys jerked awake to find himself still in the torture room, bound to a chair with manacles. An ache stabbed through his ribs as he drew in a breath. With that, sensation came flooding back. His shirt chafed against burns and bruises on his chest. The sweat that soaked his clothes stung the multiple open cuts. Heat from a fire to his right seared his skin.

  He tried to straighten himself, his muscles protested at any movement. Another breath caught in his chest. The last thing he remembered was losing consciousness during Kane’s latest round of questioning.

  If I’m still here--

  He craned his neck upright against stiff muscles to see Kane standing a few paces away, his back turned to Rhys. The fire cast the only light in the dank room, not enough to find the corners, but enough to see Kane’s tools spread out across a nearby bench.

  He flinched despite himself as Kane turned around.

  “You’re stronger than last time.” There was almost grudging respect in the man’s voice. “But we didn’t have the druids then.” He stepped aside to reveal Alisher with a smoking bowl in his hands.

  “Enjoy your dream, Baron?” the druid asked conversationally.

  The images from the dream still lurked in Rhys’s mind. It had been so real he was afraid he really had said something to give up his men’s location and plans, and that Adam’s men had found them.

  “That was you?” he asked around drying blood in his mouth.

  “A small taste of the power we hold. You can learn much from a man and his dreams.” He muttered a few words, and the room swam before Rhys’s eyes. He slumped forward into darkness.

  ✽✽✽

  A frigid wind wrapped around him, tugging at his cloak. Ice-encrusted pine trees loomed over him, blocking out the sun’s pale light. He looked up, catching a glimpse of the grey stone walls of the Dragon Keep. Small white flakes drifted down towards his face.

  He frowned. I don’t remember it being winter.

  Footsteps disturbed the silence behind him. He turned as Bryn approached.

  “What are you doing out here, Baron?” Bryn’s eyes narrowed.

  “I--” What am I doing? It was like when he’d first come to the Keep. He’d spend hours wandering through the mountains, trying to outpace his demons.

  “He’s been looking for you.” Bryn gestured over his shoulder. A shadow moved and solidified into Kane. Rhys’s heart nearly stopped.

  “Why did you bring him here?” Rhys snapped, dragging his gaze away from Kane’s sneer and the way his knife nearly glowed in the faint light.

  “He told us some things about you.” Bryn tilted his head, drawing a dagger. “Your past is full of failures. We can’t have that here. It seems that a change in leadership is needed.”

  “What?” Rhys backed up a pace. What happened before was happening again. The person he had faith in to have his back, was turning on him.

  This is wrong. Bryn would never betray me like this. But looking again at the coldness in Bryn’s eyes, maybe he was wrong.

  Bryn strode forward. Rhys stepped back again, tripping over something. He instinctively looked down to see a faint bit of grey mist swirling at his feet. It tugged at his boot, and the sense of wrongness filled him again.

  I’m not really here.

  He swung his hand out, catching Bryn’s knife as it swept toward his heart.

  “No. He’s lying.” He looked to Kane. The torturer vanished in a puff of smoke. Rhys blinked in shock, his hold releasing for a moment.

  “I don’t care.” Bryn plunged his knife into Rhys’s chest.

  He grabbed Bryn’s hands as the knife twisted deeper. He gasped for breath, but instead of slowing, his heart pounded faster. The pain that should have been there was only a prick compared to wounds he’d felt before.

  “You’re not enough. You’ll never be enough. You can’t stop what’s coming.” Bryn leaned close, his face inches from Rhys’s. A strange scent swirled from Bryn.

  Incense.

  Druids.

  Rhys tugged at the knife still embedded in his chest, trying to remove it like the fears that Bryn had just spoken.

  “You’re not real,” he gritted.

  Bryn yanked the knife free, then stabbed him again and again until he fell back into darkness.

  Rhys stirred and opened his eyes as his heart rate gradually slowed. His mouth was devoid of any moisture. He attempted to unclench his hands.

  He raised his head to meet Kane’s gaze and caught an odd, almost sympathetic look, in the man’s eyes. But it vanished in an instant, and Kane picked up a small square object.

  “Two days, you’ve been here. Not many men have lasted that long.” Kane rolled a needle between his fingers. “You know my methods. Some of what the druids do, I don’t understand. Like playing with dreams. It makes no sense to practical men like you and me. But these
?” He lifted the needle to the light. “These I find interesting.”

  Kane stabbed the doll.

  Rhys doubled over, gasping for breath as pain speared his stomach.

  “I think I might have underestimated you this time.” Kane slid another needle into the cloth. “There’s more at stake for you this time. It’s not just your personal honor. You have men depending on you.”

  A third needle lodged itself into the cloth, accompanied by a moan from Rhys as pain ricocheted down his left arm, ten times worse than when he’d broken it as a young boy.

  “I can respect that. But why try and protect those who turned on you? Adam doesn’t want your brother. Just tell him where Damon is so he can bring him back under his protection.”

  Rhys forced a laugh. “His protection? We all know how that worked out last time.”

  “Perhaps, but one man against the freedom of your brother and men?”

  Rhys groaned as pain like a curved Karanti sword wormed slowly up through his ribs toward his heart. “Maybe Adam doesn’t want Sean, but he’d take him anyway and turn him over to them!”

  Kane followed his loathing gaze to where Alisher impassively watched. Kane took a chair and pulled it up in front of Rhys. He sat and leaned forward.

  “Then tell us what the Clans are planning. Adam wishes to avoid a long war.”

  “I’m sure he does.” Rhys huddled in the chair, crippled by phantom wounds.

  It had been the same questions over and over. He wouldn’t answer any of them, and every time they hurt him. But at this point, he didn’t know if he preferred Kane’s knife or the druids’ needles.

  “You could save hundreds of lives.” Kane accented his words by withdrawing one of the slender needles. “He might even arrange a pardon for you if you help.”

  Rhys trembled, more from pain or anger he could not tell. He met Kane’s gaze again.

  “I would never take that from him!”

  “But tempting, isn’t it?” A new voice broke in as Adam entered the room. “You know Brogan would never consider it. But still I wonder if you’re worth anything to him, even for your family’s sake.” Adam took up a needle and casually inspected it.

  “He can’t ransom me, and you know it,” Rhys ground out.

  “I do. And your little friends in the pass can’t do anything for you either, because once they set foot outside the mountains, their lives are forfeit. Tell me, how does it feel to be helpless at my hands once again?”

  “Go to the flames, misborn—”

  Rhys screamed as the needle pierced his heart. Adam smiled as he twisted the needle in the cloth in Kane’s hand.

  “You aren’t talking yet but consider this. There are those who are more valuable than you. Your brother’s wife and children for instance. I sent men to collect them yesterday, and we’ll see how strong you are when they arrive.” His exultant sneer faded as Rhys forced his own smile.

  “So did I. My man left three days ago.”

  Rage contorted Adam’s features, and he backhanded Rhys.

  “You’ll be begging for death before I’m finished with you. If you’re lucky, I’ll keep you alive long enough to see your friends die.”

  Blood dribbled from Rhys’s lips. “Then you better hope my men don’t find you first.”

  “Lord Barkley?” The forgotten druid’s voice halted another blow from Adam.

  “What?” Adam whirled around.

  Alisher hovered in the shadows like an evil spirit.

  “He showed some resistance to the dream spell, much like the Seer began to,” Alisher said. “This man shares blood with the Seer. Perhaps he has some of the same power. It might be enough to appease Deronis until we acquire the Seer again.”

  Adam turned back to Rhys, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Very well. Just let me know if he reconsiders anything.”

  Alisher inclined his head with a smile. He leaned close to Rhys, a bitter tang coating his breath. “I also hear that you insulted our god. I look forward to correcting that mistake.”

  Rhys dug his nails into the palm of his hand. The pain reassuring him that wherever he was, it was real. Alisher’s predatory gaze assured him that the dream spell wasn’t the worst they could do.

  Two days. Not nearly time enough for his men to come back. If they were still alive at all. He’d have to find a way to keep fighting.

  Chapter 22

  Sean cast a glance over his shoulder as their horses picked their way along the stony road. It had been two days since they left the Wolf’s Head and parted ways with Rorie and Bryn. There had been no sign of Rhys. Jes had made no mention of it, stoically keeping his eyes forward on the road. But Sean kept looking behind.

  His gaze fell to the small blue flowers gathered in bunches along the road. They bobbed gently in the breeze, seven petals overlapping each other in perfect symmetry. The flowers grew everywhere through Alsaya. Rhisiart, and Máire would collect them in bunches to give to Sarah or braid into chains to drape over any animal they could find.

  Each time he thought about them, longing to see them rushed in so hard it brought tears to his eyes. He tried to blame it on the weakness that still plagued him from the dungeons. But he’d give anything to point Draco to the north and run until he reached the thatched roof and small hugs and kisses and warm nights together that had been his world for the last five years.

  But a new longing had woken in his heart. And that was to see Rhys back beside him. The need to see Rhys restored warred against his desire for his family, flooding him with guilt that he’d choose the exiled Mountain Baron over his wife and children.

  The world is changing. He’d been Seeing glimpses of it in his dreams for months, and ever since he’d been taken, it had come more and more clear. Every step they took brought them closer to that future.

  “The Carraig.” Alan reined in and pointed to the rocky pinnacle that thrust from the hills. They were still some distance from it, but Sean could make out small pennants flying from the castle perched atop the rock. He would be glad to reach its relative safety.

  But the thought bore little comfort as he wondered again what had happened to Rhys. Is he a rotting corpse on the side of the road, or has he taken my place in the dungeons of Seabright?

  “The Baron has survived worse odds.” Jes brought his horse even with Draco.

  Sean raised an eyebrow in surprise. But after two days of travelling with the Gedrinian, he’d learned that the man had an uncanny sense of perception.

  Jes smiled. “It has been on my mind as well. When Rorie returns, we will find him.”

  Sean didn’t doubt the Gedrinian’s words. He nodded curt thanks and nudged Draco forward.

  “Wait.” Damon brought them to a halt again. “Before we reach Sarksten, there’s something you all should know.” He paused, swallowing hard as he tried to continue.

  Alan shifted as he watched Damon, his expression grim. Damon opened and closed his mouth, struggling for the words, so Alan spoke for him.

  “Damon is the dead prince.”

  Sean’s mouth dropped open. Jes’s eyebrows raised, and he murmured something in Gedrinian.

  Damon offered an uncertain smile. “Just, not dead.”

  “What?” Sean found his voice. “I thought the prince died.”

  “It’s hard to explain.”

  “Try.” Sean spat.

  “Sean,” Alan broke in. “The Baron told me.” He addressed Damon. “How?”

  “Adam poisoned me, but I survived somehow. I’ve been locked in the dungeon ever since. I didn’t know what happened to Rhys until he told me.” Damon looked to Sean as if begging for forgiveness.

  “Rhys didn’t try to kill you?”

  “Of course not!” Damon jerked his head, offended Sean would even think such a thing.

  “And what does this change?” Jes broke in.

  “It means that my brother was banished for nothing!” Sean blurted, face flushing in anger.

  “The Baron has no brother,
no loyalties except those he commands at the Dragon Keep,” Jes calmly said. “You think his life,” he gestured to Damon, “will change anything? Those lords will not go back on their word. He is the Baron now. The past runs too deep. He is not the man you think he is, and you would do well to stop thinking of him as your brother.”

  “He’s right, Sean,” Alan said, bitter sadness in his eyes.

  Sean clenched the reins, prepared to argue until he saw something like guilt lingering in Damon’s eyes. It’s not his fault that Rhys was blamed for everything.

  “I’m sorry, Damon—your highness,” he tried to correct it.

  “Damon.” The prince offered a small smile. “Hard to make anyone use that title after sharing a dungeon with them.”

  Sean huffed a laugh and nodded. Relief showed in Damon’s posture, hunching his shoulders a little more.

  Jes spurred on without another word. Sean was the last to follow, unmoving until Draco trotted after the others, not wanting to be left behind.

  I don’t care what they say. He’s still my brother, however distanced he might be. Sean’s gaze fell to Damon. There has to be a way to clear him now. Of course, none of that matters with him still missing.

  The Carraig disappeared from view as the road turned and began to wind up into the hills. Pine trees grew in clusters around the road, gradually adding to their numbers the steeper the path became. Every time the road evened out, it would begin to climb again, bringing them higher and higher.

  Lichen-spotted boulders of grey stone rested among the trees, castaways from the mountains that loomed tall through the trees to Sean’s left-hand side. After a quarter hour’s ride, the Carraig’s towers once again came into view through the trees. The road transitioned to smoothed stone that led up to a guarded bridge. Purple banners bearing the black lynx of Sarksten fluttered in the breeze.

  Alan trotted ahead to the guard posts. Two guards stepped forward, swinging their spears down to block the road.

  “State your name and business at the Carraig,” one said in a gruff voice.