Nate and Kiara seemed to be done for. She held onto the little bench with all the strength she had left in her and watched with frantic eyes as the soldiers were gaining on them. Remarkably, though, the wagon and donkeys still outran the knights faithfully. They exited the town and continued onto the road, but their pursuers wouldn’t give up.
While the two were glancing back at those soldiers following behind, they neglected to notice at the last minute that soldiers had appeared from the tree line to cut them off in the front. Without even receiving an order from Nate, the donkeys skidded to a stop. Soldiers sandwiched the travelers on the road. They were trapped.
Chapter 15
Kiara was terrified out of her mind. She and Nate were now under the custody of the Deceiver, the most evil rebel against Malcolm. The Deceiver was ruthless and malicious in all he did. Not one kind word had come out of Deceiver’s wicked mouth in all his life or so the stories told. Kiara had heard stories from Eshean and Malcolm about prisoners of war that had the misfortune of coming into Deceiver’s hands instead of dying on the battlefield. She heard about loyalists of Malcolm wandering foolishly into Deceiver’s territory, looking for trade or opportunity, only to find torture, shame and misery in Tau.
The two sat in the back of the wagon that Randolph had given them earlier that day, bound at the hands and feet with iron chains like captive animals. Guards and knights surrounded the wagon on every side, either marching on foot along the road or riding proudly upon their abused steeds. Kiara couldn’t help but shiver uncontrollably, both from the fear of what was about to happen to her and from the cold rain that pummeled down from the dark and dreary sky.
Nate saw her trembling, and in a daring move of compassion, he scooted himself closer and lifted his arms up and over her head and shoulders to trap her in a warm hug. Kiara was perplexed by this action, but welcomed it gratefully, leaning her head against his chest. The soldiers noticed this act of kindness and eyed the rogue suspiciously, as if he were about to make an escape. Nate shot a protective glare back at them until they turned away.
“I’m scared,” Kiara muttered, her voice quivering.
“I know, but it will be ok. I’m here. I’ll make sure they don’t do anything to you. We’ll figure a way out of this,” he replied softly, looking around for whatever he could use later for such an escape.
With those words, Kiara’s defenses fell and shattered within her. She completely forgot about her duty to represent the king and she let silent tears mix in with the chilled droplets of rain on her cheeks. Nate could hear her sniffles and embraced her tighter, shielding half of the rain from falling on her.
Within half a day of traveling, silence and holding each other, the two prisoners finally made it to the gates of Tau. Never had Kiara seen anything more menacing. Two dark wooden towers reached high into the sky, separating the towering, thick stonewalls and the heavy wooden drawbridge. The sun was close to setting, but the dense cloud cover over the castle prevented any sunlight from showing, which made the black mote that stretched around the edges of the perimeter more threatening and mysterious. Kiara had been told crocodiles and sharks were kept in that mote, but as they drew closer to its shores, she could see the sharp movements of other carnivorous fish under the surface.
The knights that were escorting them called out to the gatekeepers that the princess had been found and captured. The wooden drawbridge lowered to reveal a weed-ridden courtyard, where nothing colorful could be seen. Stone statues of nightmarish creatures loomed over the travelers with ugly stares carved in their expressions. Kiara’s fingers gripped Nate’s shirt as she looked up at the great iron and stone castle that had been the center of all her childhood ghost stories. Deceiver’s castle was certainly the epitome of evil, the rain making the rocks and metal glisten forebodingly. Candlelight flickered in numerous small windows speckled about towers and adjoining buildings.
As the men led the wagon up to the tall front doors of the castle, Nate stayed strong and proud. The cart stopped. The guards grabbed the couple and threw them aggressively from the back of the cart to the gravel walkway. Kiara whimpered in pain as part of her dress tore and her elbow acquired a burning scrape. Nate only staggered back to his feet and rushed to help Kiara up, but two harsh officers were obliged to do that for him. The two soldiers grabbed Kiara forcibly by the arms and began dragging her inside the castle while two more took their hold on Nate and did the same. All the while, the rogue shouted out for the soldiers to not handle the princess with such brutality. They didn’t listen.
The two were led out of the cold rain into an equally cold fortress, with only tiny candles mounted in increments across the damp stonewalls. They were escorted down a long, straight, wide hall with dark ominous portrays hanging upon the walls, the eyes of its subjects glaring down at them with just as much hatred as the creatures in the courtyard did.
Kiara resolved to keep her eyes downs, her nerves shattered. Nate was towed close behind, wishing he could take Kiara’s fate from her and add it to his own, so as to save her the agony of what was waiting at the end of that hall.
The soldiers dragged the couple to the end of the corridor to a set of grandiose oak doors, carved with mystical symbols and designs from foreign lands. The doors opened from the inside, allowing them to enter into the throne room of the wicked Deceiver.
Dark red velvet curtains hung about the walls with the accompaniment of weapons of war to frame the room. The chamber was almost completely empty, besides the massive wooden throne sitting against the wall, raised upon a circular stone platform, and there sat the most wicked, the most evil, the most vile of men in existence: The Deceiver.
The man who split a kingdom and caused so many lives to be stolen, the man who brought violence to Aleph’s doors, the man whose quest for power and glory brought about his own exile. This man, clothed in all black with light leather armor and a thick black bear fur cloak draped about his shoulders, stood before his small audience of loyal knights and two traitors. A mass of curly salt and pepper sat upon his head, with a thick full beard to match. He would have looked much like Malcolm if it were not for the red and bulgy, evil eyes that seemed to search endlessly for something to destroy or torture.
Next to the Deceiver was someone just as evil and just as much to blame for the tyrant’s ongoing mischief. His sorcerer, who went by the name of Azor, leaned upon his twist oak cane. This man was older than all of those present in the room. It was obvious both because of his hunched over, cripple posture and the extremely long white beard that reached half way down to his belly.
He was dressed in a rich purple robe with a golden strand of rope tied about his waist. Kiara had heard from her father that Azor made himself out to be a great and mighty sorcerer or prophet, but all of his tricks were simply illusions. He was renown for his ability to predict the future or tell things that would otherwise be completely unknown to Deceiver and end up being correct. But all along, he had spies seek out whatever information was desired and they in turn would report back to Azor with the news. When placed before the Deceiver, Kiara found her strength. All fear dissipated to be replaced with pure hatred. This was the man who had caused her to be plucked from her home suddenly and sent on this journey through his territory. He was the reason for all of her misfortunes in the past week and a half. She felt like taking one of the sharpest, deadliest weapons off of that wall and slicing this man in two, if only she had the strength to.
Kiara and Nate were pushed down to their knees onto the hard cobblestone floor.
“Well, look what we have here. A couple of Malcolm loyalists,” Deceiver chuckled in his throat evilly. “What shall I do to welcome you both here? I must show my great skills in the art of hospitality to a daughter of the false king.”
“You’re the false king, you wretch!” Kiara shouted out with such angry defiance that she even surprised herself. A soldier came up and slapped her across the face as punishment for such insolence. Kiara cried out in pain and N
ate shouted in protest, struggling to break his bonds so he could tear apart the officer that struck her.
Deceiver over looked the offensive comment and stepped down from the stone altar on which his throne sat. His boots tapped heavily upon the floor as he walked closer to the two captives. He had a wicked, amused smile spread across his face, his cold, glistening eyes scrutinizing Nate with strange interest. Nate only glared furiously at the tyrant, breathing heavily through his nostrils like he was holding himself back from bursting out in rage against him.
“So, you’re the one who’s been trying to stall my plan?” Deceiver said coyly, reaching out his calloused hand to hold Nate’s chin between his fingers and turning the rogue’s head to either side, as if inspecting him. “Yep, you look just like him.”
Nate’s eyes never deviated from him and once Deceiver released his chin, the false king began walking towards his thrown once more.
“Look like who?” Nate asked.
“Your father. You’re the spitting image,” Deceiver replied, placing his hands thoughtfully behind his back and turning to look back at the Nate with a sinister smirk like he knew something that everyone else did not. Kiara glanced from Nate, to Deceiver and to Azor, whose face mimicked that of Deceiver’s.
“How would you know my father?” Nate’s anger did not waiver, but a hint of confusion and curiosity crept into his tone. Kiara, still recovering from the sting on her cheek, was just as inquisitive, but she held her tongue, afraid that she would say something too bold and be struck again.
Deceiver chuckled. “Because your father is my son,” he said slowly for affect.
Kiara’s mouth gaped open, but no one else seemed moved by such news. Nate only grew angrier and began to pull and twist against his bonds in hopes to break them. Other than his struggles, the throne room fell silent briefly.
“You’re lying!” Nate shouted, his rage echoing in the high vaulted ceiling of the throne room.
“My dear boy, why would I lie?” Deceiver held out his hands in a sign of sincerity and shook his head ruefully, the wicked smile lingering on his lips.
“You’re the Deceiver. What else would you do but lie?”
“I’m only telling you what I know. You are my grandson, the spitting image of your father and me. Boldness has skipped a generation, but you are my descendent.” Deceiver was calm as he spoke, folding his hands behind his back once more and eyeing Nate.
“I am nothing like you!” Nate yelled once more, his chains rattling as he tugged at them furiously. Kiara didn’t know what to say. As she glanced between Deceiver and Nate, thinking about their characters and appearance, she even began to believe that it might be true. And if it was true, that meant that Nate might have been in line as heir to Deceiver’s rebel kingdom.
“You are just like me, Nathan. You’re a fierce fighter and a loner. You live to do what you please and have no regard for those you step on to achieve what you want. You killed every single one of those bandits that attacked you and the princess without remorse. You answer to no one and kill anyone who tries to control you… Still unconvinced?”
Nate’s face fell, but his eyes didn’t soften. Taking his silent answer as a “no”, Deceiver scoffed and began walking in contemplative circles.
“Let’s see, where shall I begin? Oh, yes, from the beginning. Before I attempted to take over Malcolm’s kingdom, I was married to a woman by the name of Rebecca. She was a beautiful woman, gentle and kind in nature. However, she did not support me in my views of how the kingdom should be run. She thought I was too extreme and should just leave Malcolm alone to make his decisions. The more I advanced on the royal council, the more she became wary of my intentions. On the night that I met with men of Aleph who would be willing to join me in a rebellion, she overheard our plan for war… The whore ran to Malcolm and told him everything!” The rise in Deceiver’s tone and volume of voice startled everyone in the room, even Azor who patiently waited in the shadows of the throne.
“If it hadn’t been for her revealing my plan, I could have taken Malcolm by surprise and conquered Aleph without any trouble! But, Malcolm assembled his armies immediately and crushed my men like we were nothing but an angry mob.
“Rebecca took refuge in Malcolm’s castle after we burned her home, killed the rest of her family and I was exiled across the mountains… She became like one of his family, despite them knowing that she was my wife. And what none of them knew was that she was with child. She gave birth to a son seven months after my exile and named him Randolph… Ring any bells?”
As Deceiver told his story, Nate’s face fell into a horrified expression that even made Kiara’s heart grieve for him. Now she knew what the gypsy woman was saying about Nate being of royal blood on paper and in the heart. He was the grandson of Deceiver, no question was left, and no debate had room to be spoken. Nate bowed his head in unutterable shame and Kiara longed to consoling him, but her hands were still chained, just like his. Kiara felt as if her world was shaken beneath her feet. She felt her heart throb in her throat, thinking about how she much she admired and loved him, and how that didn’t change one bit now that she knew who his ancestor was. That scared her beyond explanation.
“I’m not surprised you knew nothing of your past,” Deceiver continued, still slowly pacing around and on the throne altar like he was bored and listless. “Your father didn’t, so there was no reason you should. But, now that you do know, I’ll be nice and give you a chance to return to the side that you belong to. I’m planning another rebellion against Malcolm. My army has grown to five thousand men and we’re marching out in the morning, heading straight for Aleph. We’ll pillage and plunder every town we come to and finally take over Malcolm’s city. I will steal Malcolm’s crown off his head, even if it means I have to cut it off with a bow string.”
“You’ll never get away with it! My father’s army is ten times stronger than yours and he’ll defeat you just like he did the first time!” Kiara cried out, feeling the same uncontrollable anger rise up once more.
Deceiver stopped and looked to the girl in irritation, as if he was growing tired of her outbursts. “Your father won’t know what is coming to him and his knights will not be ready in time to even take up their shields to stop my advances. Resistance is useless.”
Kiara’s face contorted with confusion. “But, why try to kill me if your plan is to attack Malcolm directly?” she asked.
“You were only the first step, the catalyst that I would use to test Malcolm’s limits,” he explained. “I knew you were his favorite and most devoted daughter, so if anything happened to you, Malcolm would act in only two ways. The first, would be to send an immediate attack upon my territory to take revenge. The second, is that he would be stricken with such grief that any attack would be made when his guard is down. It’s been over a week since your disappearance and I have heard no word of any plans for Malcolm to rise up against me. Therefore, his morale must have been weakened and my time has come.”
“Why are you telling us your plan, then? We could easily go running back to my father to tell him everything just like your wife.”
Deceiver gave a hearty laugh and stepped in front of the princess and leaned over and spoke in a raspy voice, his rancid breath falling hot on her face. “Because, you won’t live to see this next morning.”
Just as the last syllable was uttered, Kiara felt a sharp blow to the back of her skull and her world went black, with the Deceiver’s cold, sick, sneering eyes etched forever in her memory.
When she came to, Kiara found herself on a damp, half flooded floor of a dungeon. Rats squeaked and scurried about looking for morsels of bread to carry away to their holes. It was dark, dank and frigidly cold in the cell she was laying in, with only one torch illuminating the chamber on the wall opposite her prison bars. The dungeon had several terrible leaks that allowed little droplets of water to fall down from the ceiling every few seconds or so, creating puddles all around them. The gentle “plip plop” of the fa
lling water was enough to drive a man insane if he paid enough attention to it.
She pushed herself up with aching arms and looked around for Nate. The front of her gown was completely soaked in dungeon water making her garments cling to her body and hang heavily upon her. Kiara’s head was sore and as a throb of pain shot through her neck and into her skull, her dirty hand shot up to rub the tender bruise that some knight had left her.
There were no windows in this dungeon and only one door on the far side of the room, which was guarded by two lazy knights who had slumped off onto a bench to take a nap. There was no way of telling what time it was, but Kiara remembered Deceiver’s last words to her, that she and Nate would not live to see the following morning. That promise resonated threateningly in her thoughts and she continued to search around for Nate. She hoped that he was still alive. Kiara didn’t know what she would do if Nate was dead now.
Luckily, Nate was leaning his back against the cell wall near the bars, his head resting against the thin, glistening iron pillars that held them captive. There was something melancholy about the way he stared out of the cell with his arms hanging limply over his propped up knees. He looked more as if to be waiting for death than to be planning their escape, which is what Kiara wished he had been doing.
Kiara, worried for Nate, crawled over to his side and placed a loving hand on his shoulder to get his attention.
“Nate?” she whispered softly. He didn’t move, he didn’t blink and he didn’t answer her. All he did was gaze out of the cell into the narrow hall that probably led to more cells further down the way. Kiara could determine those cells were probably empty of human souls, but filled with decaying bones and carcasses of men who had died in this dungeon. She tried to ignore the stench that assaulted her nose.
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