by Leah Putz
I kept my mouth tightly shut and after a few moments he seemed to realize I was not going to answer.
“Tell me, empath, do you wonder why you didn’t sense our presence? Why you failed to warn your comrades of the approaching danger?”
Despite my desire to disengage, curiosity got the better of me and I glanced up, betraying my interest. “Ahh, so you do wonder. Let me clue you in to a little secret. Doctsland is not the only country to employ those with unique abilities.”
“What do you mean?” I spat, wondering what could possibly dampen my powers to the extent that I missed an entire small force.
He smiled, clearly happy to be finally getting under my skin. “A sorcerer has recently joined the council of our king. He is a powerful sorcerer, with knowledge of many ancient spells, even an ancient spell that would hide one’s mind from an empath.”
I stiffened, fear growing inside my belly. It was one thing to tend a magic that was natural in your family and in your blood, such as my empathic abilities and my family’s proclivity towards medicinal magic. It was another thing entirely to nourish an unnatural power, planted and tended only with spells and potions rather than a birthright. The word sorcerer implied someone self-made in the arts, and one capable of such magic as Carthoc is referring to would be someone truly dangerous.
Sensing my fear, and quite pleased with himself, he continued. “His magic is strong. So strong that he could cloak myself and my entire team, masking us from you. Imagine, if you joined us, what the two of you could accomplish together.”
I imagine in his mind this was supposed to be an alluring idea, however it filled me only with terror and disgust. I would never want to mingle my family’s wholesome magic with the corrupt power of a sorcerer. Carthoc was close now, his face hovering near mine, eagerly awaiting what he was sure would be an acceptance. Instead, I spat in his face, which immediately twisted with fury.
He stood and wiped his face at once, and shouted for a guard. “Bring this witch outside.” He spat the word with venom. “And secure her to a tree. If she won’t join us or answer our questions willingly, I will whip the answers out of her.”
Without hesitation, they did his bidding. I thrashed as they approached me, fighting back with every ounce of my strength despite the fact that I was bound and being restrained by several strong men. But before I knew it my arms were secured around a tree. I felt the cool edge of a knife as my jacket and tunic were both sliced open, exposing my back to the cold night air. I closed my eyes tightly, and tried to build up enough walls around my mind to protect myself from any pain I may feel. I’d never tried to shield myself from my own pain, but I prayed to the Kelps it would work.
“Why are you here?” Captain Carthoc asked.
I was determined not to speak, and after a moment I felt the lash against my back. My walls crumbled upon impact, and a scream loosed from my throat despite my will to keep quiet. The pain was worse than anything I could have imagined, and for a brief moment I wished he would just kill me instead.
“Did the Prince of Doctsland send you?”
Another lash, and I squeezed my eyes shut as tears spilled down my cheeks. Still, I held my ground and did not utter a word. Part of me rejoiced at this question though, because it revealed that they did not know that the Prince of Doctsland was among them.
He continued. “How many empaths does the prince have in his employ?”
Again, silence, and again, pain seared through my back as I howled in agony.
“What are you doing in Bushand? Have you come to attack? How strong is Doctsland’s army?” his barrage of questions continued, a lash or more between each question. I always heard the crack of the whip right before I felt the impact, and that small moment of expectation was almost worse than the agony that followed. Almost.
I looked down to see blood streaming down the legs of my pants and pooling on the dirt beneath my feet. The entirety of my back was aflame, and each time I thought it couldn’t get any worse another lash would come and shatter that notion. With each strike it seemed a hundred knives were tearing into me. I kept waiting to pass out, or for my back to go numb. There’s only so much suffering I can take before my body gives out… right? I willed an end, whether it was a rescue, sleep, numbness, or even death. An hour I endured, and it was the longest hour I will ever live. But finally, it stopped.
“It’s late,” Carthoc said, circling around the tree to look at me, arrogance and pride written on his white face as he surveyed his handiwork. “My arm is getting rather tired. Let’s pick this up in the morning, shall we? You can stay here through the night, and think about how your participation tomorrow may improve your current predicament.”
I rested my cheek against the rough bark of the tree and closed my eyes, relieved that my torment was ending, at least for a little while. I wondered how my friends were fairing, if Siofra was able to escape, and hoped that they would be left in peace while Carthoc fixed his cruel intentions on me. Maybe, I hoped desperately, he was distracted enough with me to allow Siofra and the others to slip away unnoticed. I tried to open my mind to reach out for them, but to my shock I found I could not. I was exhausted, more exhausted than I had ever been, and my mind would not allow me to stretch and touch anyone else’s. Though I was alarmed, I couldn’t do anything about it. Rather, I allowed my eyes to flutter shut, not having enough energy to stay awake for even a second longer.
I awoke to the sound of yelling. Disoriented, I blinked my bleary eyes open. My body screamed in pain, and I winced with every movement. It felt as though Carthoc’s whip had been embedded in my back, and phantom lashes wracked through me. The sky was still dark, but a bloody sunrise was beginning to peak over the horizon, meaning I had been left out for hours, standing and tied. I couldn’t feel my legs, only the searing pain in my back. My upper body shook violently, and I could not still myself. Still tightly bound to the tree, I couldn’t turn to see what was happening, but in my limited field of vision I saw fire. I didn’t know the source of the fire, or where Captain Carthoc was, but I hoped with all my heart that the flames would consume him entirely.
Suddenly, a deep, familiar voice rose above the chaos. “Where is Lisalya?” it boomed, echoing throughout the camp. “Where is the empath?”
“Back behind the tent, on the edge of camp, tied to a large oak,” came the high lilt of Carthoc’s voice in a whimper. Whatever had happened, he had lost his arrogance, and the thought brought a small smile to my face.
I don’t know how much longer it was, every minute felt like an eternity, but eventually the face that came with that familiar voice appeared before me. “Viktor,” I choked, finding my voice hoarse and speaking painful.
“Shh,” he said in reply as he began cutting my bonds. “Save your energy.”
“What has happened?”
Once he had freed me, he looped my arm over his shoulder. “I’ll explain when we’re safer, come on.”
My legs wobbled as I tried to move with him, and the combination of the sudden movement, the aching pain coursing through my entire body, and the dry, bloody taste in my mouth suddenly overwhelmed me. Lurching forward, I emptied what little there was in my stomach onto the forest floor before our feet. In the back of my mind, part of me wanted to cower in embarrassment, but mostly I was just too tired to care. Viktor certainly seemed too determined to care, not even pausing to bat an eyelash, but rather moving forward as swiftly as he could manage with me as his burden.
I tried to keep up with him, but my legs couldn’t move as quickly as I wanted them to, and I was growing increasingly frustrated with their failure. We’d barely made it to the perimeter of the initial enemy camp before they’d given up completely. Viktor noticed before I did; everything seemed to be fuzzy and in slow motion to me.
“Jion!” he barked. “Help to steady her. I’m going to carry her on my back.”
Jion’s arms replaced Viktor’s while the former moved to place himself in front of me. With his guidance, I dra
ped my arms over his neck so he could lift me onto his back.
“We’ve got a long walk,” he murmured, soft enough that only I could hear with my head rested on his shoulder. I took a deep breath, breathing in his musky scent which had grown familiar to me, and allowed it to comfort me. “You should try to rest. Sleep, I’ve got you.”
So many questions raced through my head and I yearned for answers, but my eyes betrayed me, feeling leaden with heavy burdens. Despite my efforts to stay awake I couldn’t possibly keep them open. So, I followed his suggestion and gave in, letting my eyes fall shut and sinking into unconsciousness.
***
When I woke next I was confused. I found myself nearly face to face with a fire. I panicked, forgetting my rescue and expecting to be in Carthoc’s tent once more. Glancing around, I saw Siofra poking at the fire with a stick and sighed, relieved to see a familiar face.
“Where is Viktor?” I asked, remembering his strong arms carrying me as I slept.
She gestured across the fire, and turning my head I saw him and Jion in a deep discussion, though about what I could not tell.
“They’re discussing the way back to camp,” Siofra said. “Jion thinks he can figure out a shortcut. Vik doesn’t want to risk it with your condition, in case Jion is wrong and we find ourselves lost.”
“My… condition?” I asked, my head feeling too foggy to comprehend much of what she was saying.
She seemed confused by my question, looking at me with her brow furrowed. “Yes, we don’t want to move you any more than necessary, considering your injuries sustained during your time with Captain Carthoc,” she spoke gently, as if reminding a child of a horrible nightmare.
I flinched, everything rushing back to me at once. Allowing my eyes to flutter closed, I tried to keep the memories and the pain at bay.
“Just try to rest,” Siofra said.
Mustering my strength, I reopened my eyes. “What happened?” I asked, still wondering after Viktor’s refusal to answer.
He took his chance now, having appeared close by once more. “Siofra rescued us.”
“How?” I croaked.
“I used the edge of my armor to saw through the rope,” she answered. “Once the captain and the guards took you away, they shifted their focus off of us. It was fairly easy to get away. Once I was free of my bonds, I sprinted back to camp as quickly as possible to get back-up. After rallying some troops, we marched back to perform the rescue mission. Unfortunately we didn’t make it in time to save you from Carthoc’s ministrations. The two camps were almost a full day’s march apart, we barely made it back and forth between them in one night.”
“How are you feeling?” Viktor asked. He had crossed over the fire and was kneeling beside me, blue eyes searching my face to assess my condition.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Speaking, thinking, just being awake and maintaining it was exhausting in my current state.
“Never better,” I joked, hoping he would do me a favor and leave it at that.
Of course, he seemed to see right through me. Softly, so softly I could hardly feel it, he brushed a lock of hair from my face, which was damp from sweat. Sadness marred his handsome face before he stood.
“Let’s go. No shortcuts, I’m putting my foot down. We can’t afford any delays. We’ve got to get far away from Nul, and we’ve got to get Lis back to camp.”
Shortly after, I began to drift in and out of consciousness again, my brain settling on one last thought before I finally fell asleep; how strangely warm it made me feel to hear my nickname cross his lips for the first time.
Chapter Twelve
Viktor
As much as I wanted to let Lisalya rest and sleep in relative peace, we had been in one place for far too long. I lifted her, helping her to stand so I could try to carry her on my back again. My heart ached when she groaned.
“Sorry…” I mumbled, trying to steady my movements so she wouldn’t be jostled around too much. “I’m trying to be as gentle and swift as I can, but we’ve got to get going.”
“Are you going to carry me?” she asked. I couldn’t see her face, but she spoke slowly as if disoriented.
I smiled, glancing over my shoulder, hoping to reassure her in some way. “I’ve been carrying you up ’til now. So, yes, I’ll continue.”
“I’m sure I can walk,” she replied.
I almost laughed at her stubborn inability to accept help without protest. “Don’t be silly,” I said, guilt over her condition gnawing at me with abandon. “You put yourself in my place. You saved me from the fate that you endured, though you shouldn’t have. The least I can do, the absolute least, is to carry you for a bit so you can rest.”
“I’ve been resting,” she protested, trying to lift her head.
“Oh no you don’t,” I cried, maneuvering myself in front of her so she sloped forward and fell onto my back, her cheek resting between my shoulder blades. “Would you stop being so damn stubborn for once?”
“No…” she murmured, before drifting off once more as I began to move forward. Of course not, I thought. Her stubborn nature is one of the things I lo- wait, what? I pushed the thought aside, not ready to confront or accept the way I might feel.
The next few hours were a blur. We walked quickly and steadily, trying to reach camp as soon as possible. I kept Lisalya on my back, her tanned arms draped over my chest, walking with a hunch to keep her balanced and in place. I didn’t lift my head or turn to look around, focusing on watching my feet to avoid tripping. A fall could prove disastrous in Lisalya’s fragile state. Siofra walked in front of me, leading the way, and we kept quiet through the duration of our journey, trying to do anything possible to go undetected.
I have no idea how long it took. I was so determined to get Lisalya to safety that I focused only on her and on moving forward, but eventually we made it back to camp. When we finally arrived, I took Lis to her personal shelter, laying her gently down on her stomach on the bed.
“One of the men from Cessam is a healer. Should I grab him?” Siofra asked, staring down at Lisalya, concern and distress etched on her face.
“Yes please, send him at once,” I replied.
The room was too small for a chair, so I sat at the end of her bed, afraid to leave her alone. I struggled to stay awake, watching the steady rise and fall of her breathing to make sure it never stopped. Her cheek was squished against the pillow, giving her face (or what I could make out of it through her knotted, wild hair) an air of youth and innocence. She seemed more at peace sleeping now than she had since before our capture, and the fact that that peace would disappear upon her waking torn at me, especially since I considered it to be my fault.
I was just beginning to drift off myself when a knock at the door jerked me awake. “Come in,” I said, standing to open the door.
“Thank you,” the young man said as he entered the room, crowded with just the three of us due to its small size. He stood tall, lanky, and awkward, but I could tell that he was eager to help. “I am Jaeboc, of Cessam. Lady Siofra sent for me.”
“Yes, thank you,” I replied. “You may remember Lisalya. She accompanied us in Cessam. We were captured by some Nulian soldiers, and she was questioned by Captain Carthoc.”
The moment I said Carthoc’s name the color drained from Jaeboc’s face. “Captain Carthoc?” he whispered, terror clear in his large eyes. “She is lucky to be alive.”
“Have you heard of him?” I asked, wanting to know how far his influence spread.
“Everyone has. He’s a terror. He seems to delight in inflicting pain, even on his own countrymen. It is shameful. King Siglind sends him and his band of soldiers to towns and villages across Bushand, forcing people to return with them to Nul to join Siglind’s growing army. Those that refuse him do not typically survive.” He stopped speaking and began to examine the wounds on Lisalya’s back.
I bit my cheek and tried to steady my hands, which had begun to shake with rage at the thought of Siglind forcing peopl
e to join his army under threat of death, and using what was clearly a sadistic madman to do it.
“Thank you for the information,” I said, jaw clenched. “How is she?”
“Her injuries are beyond my skill,” he said, and my heart sank. “I can, however, make a drink for her. There are several herbs in my kit I brought from home. I can mix up a tea for her to drink when she wakes. It may help her handle the pain.”
“Please do,” I said.
He exited with my thanks, and returned shortly afterwards with the herbs he had promised and instructions on their use; all I had to do was crunch them up and mix them in boiling water.
After his departure, I returned to my spot on the end of her bed, watching over her. A few hours passed of me drifting in and out of consciousness during my guard of her, but then she finally began to wake.
“Try not to move,” I said, causing her to start. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She turned her head to look at me. “How long have we been back here?”
“We arrived late last night. It was a little slow going, it took a little over one day for us to make it back. Do you remember much from the journey?”
“No,” she said, closing her eyes as she shifted and grimaced. “I mean, I remember bits and pieces, but I have no memory of coming home. I didn’t realize we were traveling for that long. Did you carry me that entire time?”
“Jion and I traded you once or twice, but we tried to keep you as stable as possible, so I had you most of the time. How are you feeling?”