The Myatheira Chronicles: Volume Two: Beyond the Veil

by Melissa Collins

  Losing interest in Jaron, she made her way to stand in front of Aiva. Almost nonchalant in her actions, she began to undo the buttons along Aiva’s doublet, the smirk on her face revealing the sick pleasure she took in seeing the grimace which creased Aiva’s usually gentle features. From her waist she drew forth a wicked looking whip, one which Aiva had heard tales of but never seen with her own eyes before. It was made of rope, nine strands extended from the handle, each knotted at the end. Her heart fluttered fearfully at the sight of it.

  At Ireni’s attempts to remove Aiva’s doublet, one of the men retrieved a dagger from his boot, reaching up to begin cutting at the fabric. Aiva felt foolish that she even had time to worry about propriety in front of Gadiel. These pirates intended to torture and kill her. What did it matter if anyone saw her skin at a time like this? To her surprise Ireni stopped the man from cutting into the thin material which comprised the undershirt of her uniform. “That’s enough,” Ireni raised her hand to indicate the man to step away. “This is for my enjoyment, not yours. Now stand there and keep the rope firm. I need to make sure she bleeds enough that I can present my scourge to the Vor’shai Captain as proof of her suffering before death.”

  Another tug on the rope at her wrists sent a new wash of pain throughout Aiva’s upper body. Eyes watering, she barely took note of Ireni moving to stand at her back, the first strike of the rope against her skin causing her to choke on her own screams. It struck with such speed and power that it cut through the fabric of her shirt. Each little knot sliced at her flesh. The second strike broke through Aiva’s senses with more clarity, her screams ringing in her head.

  Across the room Gadiel resumed his struggle against the man holding him. Through her tears she could see the desperation in his eyes while he tried to reach her. His captor held firm, the bindings at his wrists leaving him with few options to defend. The lashes continued without mercy, Ireni’s laughter lost amidst Aiva’s anguished cries. Shadows began to darken her vision until she was certain consciousness would leave her. The next round of pain shocked her out of her agonized daze. It came from a sudden jerk of the ship, applying more pressure to her shoulders while causing Ireni to lose her footing, distracted from the next strike with a mumbled curse.

  “Emmett,” Ireni growled to the man holding Gadiel. “Give that wretch to Howell and come with me. We might not be able to catch those bastards, but their ship will sink just as easily as ours. Get the torches and meet me at the ballistae line.”

  For the first time since being brought to the holding area Aiva felt a glimmer of hope course through her. Ireni was leaving. If only she could get free! It would be easier to defend against the pirates and find her way off the ship if she could just get a hold of a sword. Not wanting to make her excitement noticeable, Aiva let her head hang in misery, the burning sensation in her back continuing to sting where the scourge had struck. She couldn’t focus on the pain. She couldn’t allow herself to give up. Not now.

  The burly pirate handed Gadiel to the smaller male who had brought Jaron below deck. He made a final round past Aiva to make sure the rope binding her was secure before following Ireni down the hall to the stairs.

  Gadiel’s head lifted to catch Aiva’s eye. In their brilliant green glow she could almost read the thoughts passing through his mind. He intended to break free. If he could get a solid hit on his new captor it would be enough to at least escape his grasp. The bindings at his wrists would create an issue beyond initial freedom, but it was the best chance they had.

  Her chest heaved, breathing labored from the pain. A groan from Jaron caught her attention. Heart pounding, she watched him, willing him to open his eyes. All it would take was a single movement from him to distract the man Ireni called Howell. It was the opening they needed.

  “Jaron,” she whispered, urging him into consciousness. “Jaron, can you stand? Can you come to me?”

  “Silence, wench,” Howell shouted. “He can’t hear you. You’re wasting your breath.”

  “Jaron, please. You can do it. It’s not that far,” she continued. His eyes were opening wider. In the depths of their golden glow she could see the understanding. Her words registered in his mind. She just needed him to have the energy to do what she asked.

  With a strangled moan he tried to respond to her quiet pleas. Finding words impossible he began to shakily climb to his feet, the weight of the chair tied at his back hindering his progress.

  “That’s it,” Gadiel added to the encouragement. “If you get to the Princess we can get you free.”

  “I told you to be quiet!” Howell hissed, rushing forward to try and grab onto the back of Jaron’s chair to pull him back down. Once within range, Gadiel saw his opening, kicking outward with his right foot to the back of the chair, splinters of wood flying about the room from the impact. Jaron fell to the floor from the force, screaming in pain where his burnt hand connected with the ground. With the chair broken, the rope that bound him to the wood no longer had anything to hold onto, his wrists freed, the restraints dangling uselessly from his hands. Realizing he was no longer bound, Jaron scrambled to his feet, wobbling unsteadily from the effort it took to stand.

  Howell was left with no choice than to release his hold on Gadiel to regain control over Jaron. A relieved expression could be seen on Gadiel’s face to feel himself thrown to the floor, discarded. Aiva called out for him as he struggled to regain his footing. Running forward, Gadiel brought his leg up in a strong roundhouse kick to solidly connect the top of his boot with Howell’s head, sending him sprawling to the ground, disoriented, though still conscious.

  “Jaron, there is a dagger in the sheath at my thigh. Cut the Commander’s bonds. Hurry!” Aiva could feel her anticipation growing. Their plan was working. Jaron stumbled to where Aiva hung, his uninjured hand grabbing onto the handle of the dagger to pull it forth from its case. Gadiel was still standing over Howell, repeatedly striking him with his foot until he was convinced there was no chance of him getting back up.

  The dagger cut through the bindings at Gadiel’s wrists, easily granting his freedom. Jaron hurried to Aiva, slicing through the ropes at her feet, the pressure adding to her discomfort. Gadiel was at Aiva’s side instantly, arms around her waist, motioning for Jaron to undo the rope which acted as a device of torture. “I have you,” he assured her, tightening his grip. “When the rope is cut I’ll let you down slowly. Try not to move your arms too fast. Ease them back to your sides.”

  It was easier said than done. Immediately upon the rope being cut Aiva felt her right arm flop uselessly down at her side, the sound of her scream muffled by Gadiel as he lowered her to her feet, pressing her head into his shoulder to quiet her, not wanting to draw Ireni’s attention to their escape. The pressure of his arms at her back only added to her discomfort. She didn’t need to see the injuries to know they were there. When her cries began to soften Gadiel released his arms from around her, gasping at the sight of blood covering his hands.

  “We need to get your shoulder set and I can’t do that while your wrists have those shackles on them. Just hold still. I’ll see what I can do,” Gadiel stated quietly. Turning away, he knelt on the floor at Howell’s side, searching through his pockets, a mumbled curse escaping him at his failure to locate the keys.

  She tried to watch him, the strange shadow returning over her vision, a constant reminder of the pain which seared through her body. As if she could have forgotten it. Her legs staggered forward, unable to maintain the support of her weight. With a heavy thud she dropped to her knees. The events of the past few hours flashed before her eyes, the impact of the floor meeting her face bringing with it a sense of relief. It felt good to lie there. Oh, how easy it would be to just give up and go to sleep… No. She couldn’t do that. They were too close. The only thing between them and reaching the ship was Ireni. But there was no denying the truth. Aiva was in no condition to fight. Not like this.

  Aiva wasn’t aware she had lost consciousness until she felt Gadiel�
��s hands lightly slapping at her face, calling her name. Groggy from the pain, she managed a soft moan to let him know she was awake. She lacked the energy to do anything else. Words took too much effort.

  From somewhere in the room she heard Jaron speak. The first time she’d heard any noise from him other than the screams of agony while tortured under Ireni’s hands. He was coming closer, jaw clenched in obvious pain, yet still persevering. An admirable trait in a soldier. If they survived this, Aiva intended to see he get the recognition he deserved. “Find a way to heat the chain,” he suggested. “If you can get it hot enough, I can try to cut through one of the links. Without the key, it’s the only chance we have at getting those off.”

  “Help me get her sitting up at least. We won’t have much luck if she’s lying on her stomach. We need more leverage.”

  Through her muddled mind state Aiva could feel the men shifting her legs underneath her to place her in a seated position on the ground. It took all her strength of will to hold her body upright, slouched forward. Nothing felt comfortable. Regardless of how she sat, the pain in her shoulders and back remained excruciating. She just wanted it to end.

  Behind her she felt Gadiel’s hand grip the central links of the shackles. She couldn’t see what he was doing though she was aware of the thrum of energy which coursed from him to the metal, heating it until she could feel the warmth all the way through to her wrists. Satisfied with his work he leaned out of the way to allow Jaron a clear shot of the chain. A loud clink sounded from the metal as her arms finished their descent to her sides, released from the hold of the manacles while the cuffs remained fastened at her wrists, no longer bound to the other.

  Gadiel wasted no time in getting Aiva onto her back, expertly letting his hands roll over her right shoulder, the joint aching under the light pressure of his fingers. Memories floated through her head of the last time he had touched her this way. They were in Carpaen. She and Callum had just been pulled from the ravine. She remembered very little at that moment although she knew his touch back then had been followed by even more pain. This time would no doubt be the same. Her shoulder was dislocated. If they were going to fight their way off the pirate vessel, she needed to have full use of both arms to wield a sword. The thought alone brought agonized tears to her eyes once again. It will get better, she told herself. Once the joint is set the pain will go away…

  She knew it was a lie. The discomfort would take days to ease but that didn’t matter right now. Anything which would decrease the suffering she felt in that instant was enough to give her the strength to endure it a little longer.

  “Well, the good news is that our men seem to have ceased fire. Perhaps they noticed us missing.” Gadiel forced a smile.

  In a swift twist and pull he completed his gruesome task, his hand quickly moving to cover Aiva’s mouth to quiet her scream. Tiny star-like spots drifted across the room in front of Aiva’s eyes. The discomfort felt surprisingly better, though far from relieved. She was under no delusions that it would miraculously be healed. Slowly she tried to ease her breathing, inhaling deeply through her nose to exhale out her mouth. After a few long, controlled breaths, she allowed Gadiel to lift her off the floor, setting her on her feet with a concerned glance.

  Ignoring his watchful eyes she looked around the room. She needed a weapon. If they were going to fight, she would need something more than her hands and feet. The sword given to her by General Uttae was left behind on the other ship when the pirates abducted her. It would take more than a simple dagger to defend against the larger blades.

  Howell. In a fluid motion she turned to face his unconscious form, her heart beating excitedly to see the cutlass strapped at his waist. The tingling in her fingers persisted, making it difficult to get her grip around the handle to pull it free. “Do you think this ship has lifeboats?” she asked, turning to face Gadiel, hopeful. “If not then we have a long swim ahead of us and I’m not certain I’ll be able to make it if the others don’t come back for us.”

  “There will be lifeboats, but if this ship has been damaged at all, the pirates will already be setting them into the water to find their way back to Luquarr. We’ll have to fight for one.”

  Observing the area Aiva let her gaze fall on a small window situated in the starboard wall. On Tunir she’d been able to send out a distress signal to call for help. It was worth trying again. If the others couldn’t turn the ship around, maybe they could at least send a rescue unit with a boat for them to use. With long strides she moved over to the window, slamming the pommel of her sword against the glass, causing it to shatter outward. Gadiel and Jaron flinched at the sound, their eyes shifting uncomfortably to the stairs.

  She extended her hand out the window, palm up, focusing her energy to create a beam of blue light which reached toward the sky. A beacon to signal the others of their presence aboard the ship. She could only hope that Callum or Edric were watching. “Gadiel, are there any other passages which would lead to the main deck without using the stairs? You should get Jaron onto one of the lifeboats and back to the others. He needs to have his hand looked at.”

  “I’m not leaving you here by yourself, Aiva,” Gadiel argued. “If we find a lifeboat, you’re coming with us. I refuse to float away and watch you perish a second time.”

  “I didn’t perish the first time.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact that we believed you had. I blamed myself for your death for weeks. Don’t do that to me again. There’s no guarantee the gods will be so kind as to bring you back.”

  “Fine,” she huffed. “Either way, I need to know if there are any secondary passages which might help us.”

  Gadiel’s eyes swept the area. “The ships in Siscal only had one main method of getting to the main deck, but this one might be different. We can check further into the ship. The only concern I have is that if there is no secondary passage, we will be backing ourselves into a corner when Ireni and her men come looking for us.”

  “Well, what else would you suggest? The three of us cannot exactly rush up the main stairs and take on the pirates by ourselves.”

  Footsteps overhead sent them all into silence, listening intently for where the sound was headed. Aiva’s heart sank to hear it coming closer. They didn’t have much time. Her eyes shifted to Gadiel, pleading with him quietly to make a decision. He paused, staring at the stairs before nodding to Aiva in agreement. “You’re right,” he whispered. “We don’t have much choice. Quick. Move down the hall toward the stern. Keep your steps quiet. Best not to advertise where we’ve gone.”

  She started to move forward, stopped by the sight of Howell’s sword belt still attached at his waist. The cutlass was heavy in her hand. A burden if she had a need to use her arms to climb or swim without giving up the weapon. Waving Gadiel and Jaron to keep going she paused over Howell’s unconscious form, struggling with his weight to undo the knot of his belt. Noticing what she was doing Gadiel ran to help her, lifting Howell’s body from the floor to grant easier access to the buckle. When it finally loosened Aiva and Gadiel let the body collapse back to the floor, hurrying along the hall into the deeper sections of the lower deck. She wasn’t sure how far down they’d been carried. The ship was different from any other she’d been aboard during their journey. She was counting on Gadiel to recognize the structure and guide them to safety.

  While they walked, she quickly worked at strapping the sword belt around her waist to sheathe the cutlass. Behind them the footsteps could still be heard. Ireni’s voice shouted angrily, her words unintelligible through the echo which rang through the narrow hall. They needed to move faster or the pirates would catch them. There was nowhere to hide. All they could do was keep moving and pray for an exit to find them before the pirates did.

  Her stomach churned excitedly to see a door in front of them. Gadiel was already turning the knob, whispering a silent prayer of thanks as it gave under the pressure, opening out onto some sort of balcony. Following him through, Aiva felt the spra
y of water on her face. They were outside. It was almost too good to be true. “We weren’t as far down as I feared,” Gadiel mumbled, closing the door behind them to twist the lock in place. “This is the gallery. We have two options. Somewhere there is an entrance to the Captain’s cabin from here. If you insist on going for a lifeboat, that would be what we need to find. I have to advise against it, however. We have an exit. The water might be a little cold, but it’s better than staying here.”

  “Gadiel, you’re the only one who can swim the distance between here and our ship. My shoulder will slow me down and Jaron only has one hand.”

  “I will help Jaron. You can still swim. If I reach the ship before you, I will come back to help you the rest of the way. We have to do this, Aiva. It’s swim or die.” Gadiel was already tearing at the fabric of Jaron’s shirt to create a wrap over his injured hand. Aiva watched them, torn by the thought of jumping into the freezing water again. Her shoulder ached. The wounds on her back screamed to think of the salt that would aggravate the lacerations. They were painful enough without doing anything which would make them worse. But Gadiel was right. To try and make it to the main deck would only put them in greater danger. The pirates would see them before they could reach one of the lifeboats and get it into the water.

  Begrudgingly she moved to the rail of the balcony, staring down into the water, almost black from its depth. “Alright. You and Jaron go first. I’ll try to keep up.”

  “Take off your doublet. I’m going to give you mine. It will provide cover on your back,” Gadiel ordered. It sounded strange to hear him give a command. He was always so hesitant to direct her, knowing her station was above his. In the severity of their situation he had let go of titles and rank. He knew his way around battle better than she did. She would be foolish not to listen.