by Cole Pain
Manda turned to find Evann looking northeast, toward Ketes. If Zier had been taken someone may have already sent word to Bostic about Ren’s alleged treachery. Manda shook those thoughts off. Ren’s cousin would never believe anything dubious about Ren. Bostic loved the crown prince almost as much as his own children.
“Manda?” Evann asked softly. “Can you ever forgive me?”
“I already have,” Manda said, holding his gaze to assure him of her sincerity. Evann had the most unusual eyes she had ever seen. They were dark blue around the edges but tapered into the color of the sky. She thought of Ren’s eyes: copper pools of determination and caring. The past few years she had hoped she and Ren would grow closer. She had always cared for him, and the Fates knew he was far from ugly.
Evann smiled, but his smile was strained. Even if she forgave him it would be a long time until Evann forgave himself. Shoving aside all thoughts of Ren, Manda took Evann’s hand. Evann smiled before turning back to the horizon. They stayed there for a time, watching the twin moons rise higher in the sky before they turned and silently began to make camp.
Chris was asleep, but he still burned with fever. They were in the foothills of the mountains and the night would grow cold. Manda made a quick decision to leave all the blankets around him. She kissed him on the check before she turned to find Evann watching her. He had already unrolled their two bedrolls.
“I don’t want to take the blankets off him, Evann. He’s still feverish.”
Evann nodded. “I wouldn’t have thought otherwise.”
Manda lay on her mat and shifted until she found a position devoid of cumbersome roots. She could sense Evann behind her and knew he would wait until she slept before he allowed himself to drift off. She evened her breaths and tried to feign sleep, knowing it would take her some time to actually lose consciousness. Within a few heartbeats, Evann began to snore.
Manda found herself hating her father, and that frightened her. Surely hating one’s own blood was a sin. When she was a girl, Valor had showered affections on her. She had always been Valor’s favorite, as Chris was their mother’s. As a child she had been athletic and strong, where Chris had been plagued with sickness and forced to watch her successes in the games he should have played.
When Chris turned ten his body miraculously strengthened and Valor sent him to Zier to become Wyrick’s squire. With Chris gone Manda grew terribly depressed, and after years of pleading, Valor finally conceded to allow her to train in the finer points of horsemanship.
The day she left Valor had given her the sword he had carried since his marriage to their mother and requested she learn to wield it on the back of a horse. She had been overwhelmed. The sword was something Chris should have received, but she knew Chris would want her to have it. Now she could use a sword like an extension of herself. When she had come back and shown Valor her skill his face had lit like a summer morn.
What had happened to him? He had betrayed them for the Newlan throne. Now all she wanted to do was use the sword on him.
She heard a sound and realized it was her own cries mingled with the drumming of her chattering teeth. Chris lay shivering under the blankets, still breathing as if every breath would be his last. Her vision clouded. Her father had given them over as if they were nothing! Rubbing her shoulders she tried to think of better thoughts, but none would come. It was going to be a long night.
“Manda?” Evann’s hand was suddenly on her arm. She closed her eyes, cursing herself for waking him.
“I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”
Evann’s hand lingered for a few breaths, then lifted away. Manda felt a twinge of disappointment. She wasn’t the kind to ask for help. Besides, Evann needed his sleep. Tomorrow would be a long day.
Then Evann’s hand was back, and she felt him place his bedroll next to hers. Manda closed her eyes and turned, burying her head in his chest. Evann’s grip tightened and soon the night wasn’t so cold.
Although she slept, she was well aware of Chris’ pained breaths and the cool breeze on her back. She had images of riding beside Evann’s mare, hoping he would decide to help. The sound of horses’ hooves echoed in her ears, pounding a rhythm that seemed foreign in her dream. The sound was heavy, fast, and it didn’t coincide with her mount. Confused, she tried to turn her head, but her ropes didn’t allow free movement. She twisted as much as she could, straining her neck, but she could only see her horse’s flank. She tried to yell for Evann but only managed a moan. Her brow furrowed … something was wrong.
She opened her eyes, mind suddenly clear. A troop of horses stood before her, shadows eclipsing the light of the twin moons. Before she could shout in alarm she and Evann were yanked from the ground.
The three men holding Evann quickly beat him to the ground. Beside her, Chris groaned as another man hauled him to his feet. Panic seized her. Ista knew they had escaped and had sent a troop after them. The same helplessness she had felt during her father’s betrayal crashed upon her with the force of a thousand storms, but when she noticed the red and blue brocade of her captors’ uniforms confusion overcame her fear. Her father’s colors were green and gray.
Drenched in shadow, a lady approached. The light of the twin moons fell behind her, crowning her in a halo of gold. When the heir of Quar came into view she scrutinized Manda with a deadly glare.
Alezza was beautiful, with lily-white skin and hair as dark as midnight. Her lips were red and full, her nose thin and dainty, and her cheekbones high and broad. She was the picture of perfection, but when Manda looked into her dark eyes Alezza’s long hair became snakes and her smile became poison.
Manda and Chris had met the Quar party on the road to Zier. Alezza had every intention of luring Ren into her web and becoming queen of half the Lands. When she realized Manda’s interest in the crown prince they had fought like two cats in a burlap sack until they reached Stardom. With Ren accused of his father’s murder Alezza’s dreams had been foiled. Manda’s mind spun. What did Alezza want with them, revenge for her quick tongue? Manda didn’t think so. The look in Alezza’s eyes was far more dangerous.
“Well, well, what do we have here? Why would the heirs of Crape be running about in the dark?”
“Alezza, release us at once.”
“Do you think Valor would pay for his children’s safe return?” Alezza asked, turning to the men behind her, ignoring Manda’s frantic protests. “Oh, I forgot. How silly of me. Valor sent his children off to die. Why ever would he want them back?”
Manda forgot to breathe. How did Alezza know?
“Oh, Manda, you’re as good as dead. Valor announced your deaths this morning. You’re disinherited. You’re nothing.”
Manda lunged. The man who held her stumbled, allowing Manda to come dreadfully close to hitting the viper. A slow, crazed laugh escaped Alezza’s lips. “Dead people have no rights, Manda. I can do with you whatever I wish.”
Alezza took a piece of Manda’s hair and twirled it between her fingers. “And let me assure you, your beloved prince won’t come to your aid. No, I don’t think the traitor of the Lands even knows you’re still alive.”
Manda drew in a full breath. That meant Ren had escaped. Manda calmed. At least she knew Ren was safe. She risked a glance at Chris. He still looked pallid, but his shoulders had straightened and a small gleam lit his eye. He had been more worried about Ren than himself. Now, Manda hoped, Chris would fight his own battle and heal.
“But if I found Christopher Erik Kahn, the prince of Crape, alive and returned him to his home, how revered I would be by the Crape people!” Alezza chuckled, sensing Manda’s puzzlement. “Oh, my dear, don’t you see? Your father would be convicted of treason. Chris would inherit Newlan!”
Manda’s eyes flickered to Chris, still not seeing the connection. Chris’ confused look only emphasized her frown.
“Why my dear, you don’t seem excited about having me as your sister.”
“My sister?” Manda raised an eyebrow. “I know you�
�re desperate, but surely you won’t stoop low enough to marry a dead man? Whatever makes you think a dead man would think differently than a live one?”
Alezza paled and turned, but before Manda could think of another biting remark, Alezza spun with catlike quickness and slapped her.
Evann lunged, breaking free from the men who held him. A large, burly man bounded off his horse and hit Evann in the back of the neck, causing his knees to buckle.
“Bort,” Alezza said, eyes locked on Manda, “why don’t you bring Manda the peace offering I have for her.”
The burley man turned, a lopsided grin on his meaty face, and untied a bundle from his horse. When Bort placed the bundle on the ground, Manda’s eyes went wide.
It was Vos.
The twin was barely recognizable. His split head and gutted remains turned Manda’s stomach, but it was his eyes that broke her heart. They stared up at her in stark terror. The Mar had killed him. Vos had barely felt the knife that had finally taken his life. Manda looked away. She had committed a horrible atrocity. She had killed his brother. No one, not even Vos, deserved the death of the Mar.
“Not grateful, Manda? Well now, I thought you would be.” Alezza’s voice came from a vacuum. Manda could barely breathe.
Alezza waved her fist under Manda’s nose. “Ista didn’t command the twins, Manda. She controlled them. Do you want to know how?” Alezza opened her fist. Three silver needles rolled back and forth in her palm, glimmering wickedly in the twin moons’ light.
Alezza patted the top of Manda’s head with a sole finger. “She inserts the needles inside the brain and controls her subjects through intense emotion. Vos knew everything about Ista’s deception. When I found Vos dying of the Mar he was more than willing to tell me what he knew.”
Alezza looked down at Vos. “I did you a favor. He betrayed you. He got what he deserved.” Alezza smiled. “But don’t worry, I won’t make you do anything you would find distasteful.”
Manda ripped her arm free and lunged for Chris. The guard holding her put his knee in her back, forcing her to the ground. Behind her, Evann howled in pain. Helpless desperation claimed her. When her eyes met Chris’ her vision blurred. Chris was terrified, but not for himself. He was worried about her. Blessed Maker!
Alezza’s red dress brushed the side of her face. The heir of Quar’s voice wafted down with honeyed ice. “Now, I need to know which of you experienced a mind-numbing pain early this morning. Tell me now and I may reconsider the needles as your fate.”
Manda’s head spun. Her instincts had left her. “Chris, only Chris. Please, Alezza, he isn’t strong. Use them on me first.”
Alezza chuckled. “Thank you, Manda. You’ve saved me a lot of time.” Alezza turned to her guards. “Saddle them up. I want to ride farther from Zier. When we stop, shave the prince’s head. I’ll see if I remember how the needles were placed.”
Manda’s mouth dropped open. “No! Me first!”
When Alezza smiled, death was in her eyes. “The needles only work on those with magic, my dear. But don’t worry, I’ll use you in other ways.”
Chris’ eyes burned with fever as he leaned his weight against the guard who held him. “I’ll be fine, sis.” He smiled in reassurance. Manda didn’t know what to do. It would be suicide to try to escape, and Chris was too weak to run.
“If you misbehave, my prince,” Alezza said, “I’ll use the needles on your sister, with or without the gift.”
Bort’s lips parted into a grin, sending malodorous breath into Manda’s face. “I like redheads, my lady. Let her ride with me.”
Evann squirmed, frantic to reach her. One of the men holding him beat him until he fell unconscious. Manda tried to stifle her rising terror as her arms were lashed together and she was handed to Bort. When she hit the saddle a riveting pain shot through her abdomen. She struggled, but it was no use. She heard Evann’s moans but couldn’t twist her body far enough to find him.
The hem of Alezza’s riding dress came into view. “It seems these two men want to protect you. Don’t do anything foolish or I’ll have to hurt them.”
Alezza’s soft chuckle violated the cool night air. Bort mounted behind Manda. She almost vomited as one of his hairy hands wiggled under her chest. Soon her blouse was torn. He scooted closer and she shut her eyes in disgust as she felt him on her back. The horse started moving and he moved with it, not bothering to conceal his grunts of satisfaction. Soon her back was wet from Bort’s frolic. At times his hand left, but every time she thought it was over his hand came back.
She didn’t know how long it continued, but before dawn broke they stopped. Rough hands grabbed her and hauled her off the horse. When her feet touched the ground her knees gave way. Bort hooked a hand under her shoulder and dragged her to a nearby tree, dropping her like a sack of grain.
Chris lay on the ground near the fire. Evann was thrown to the ground beside her. He was badly beaten and one arm looked broken. His face colored when his eyes flickered to her torn dress.
Alezza walked to the fire and dropped the needles in the water. She couldn’t let this happen. She turned to Evann, determination filling her. He was only a short distance away.
She scooted toward him. Evann shook his head, eyes whispering of danger, but she pushed on and collapsed against his shoulder.
“We can’t let them do this, Evann. In his state, Chris could die.”
Evann heaved a sigh. “I’ve been trying to think of a way to convince them I have the gift.”
“No, don’t even think that,” Manda said, twisting until her hands brushed Evann’s ropes.
“Manda, they’ll hurt you if they see.”
Manda didn’t care. She began working Evann’s ropes, trying to feel the knots with her numb hands. Just as she was about to slide a rope free Alezza looked up from the water and shouted for them to be separated. Manda’s stomach sank as tears blurred her vision.
Her hands were ripped from Evann as Bort took her by the hair and pulled her away. With a complacent grin, he kicked her in the stomach. Manda formed a ball as she fought to stay conscious. When her vision finally cleared, Alezza stood beside Evann with a knife to his chin.
“I told you to behave, Manda.” With the flick of her wrist Alezza ran the knife down Evann’s arm, slicing his flesh to the bone.
- - -
Carter watched from under the shade of the surrounding trees as Alezza cut the man’s arm. Every fiber in his being wanted to attack, but he knew acting now would be as foolhardy as petting a dragon. He had to think of a strategy that would give the heirs of Crape a reasonable chance of survival. An attack would just get them all killed. He was the Kahn’s only hope.
Carter shuddered. When Quinton had ordered Carter’s squad to leave Stardom and follow the trail of the Crape party they had moved fast, all concerned about Manda and Chris. Chris was well liked among the guard because of his days at Stardom, and Manda’s winsome disposition had won their hearts years ago.
Almost immediately after leaving the tunnels and entering the forest some of his men had shrieked in anguish. Carter had spurred his mount to a stop when suddenly, from out of nowhere, the wolves had come. No, not wolves – wolven, the two-headed magical creatures he used to read about as a child. His men slashed at them, but each cut only made the beasts stronger. When he yelled for his men to stop, it was too late. Most had been ripped to shreds, their horses with them. Carter had ordered anyone remaining to follow him to the light, but only one rider came after him, and that rider had died from a chest wound a sun’s click later.
The thought of the wolvens’ powerful jaws sent shivers down Carter’s spine. The daylight had been his salvation. He had broken into a clearing just as the wolven attacked. While the new dawn shined down upon him, his men were still in the dark of the woods. Wolven never entered the light, only the darkness, and when ravished they frequented the shade of the forest.
Carter scanned the Quar camp, his plight bleak without backup. He had failed his p
rince. No, he hadn’t failed yet. He could hear Manda’s sobs even from this distance. He gritted his teeth, vowing to rescue Manda or die trying.
Chapter 8
Although the night wasn’t over it was slipping further and further away. They needed to be away from Zier by daybreak, but Ren didn’t know what to do about Tol. If Ista called him again she may be able to decipher their location.
The others looked as uneasy as he felt. The silence in the chamber seemed to deepen as everyone surveyed Tol with impassive faces. Even Neki, the jovial one, had his jaw set in resolve. Ren glanced at Quinton to find him with his sword already drawn.
Ren understood Quinton’s silent demand. They couldn’t let Tol travel with them. His very presence was a threat. Ren became uneasy as he looked into his captain’s eyes. Quinton was prepared to kill the child. Quinton was thinking of the group, as all guards had been trained to do. And Quinton was right. Ren had seen the madness in Tol’s eyes. Tol would be forced to do acts Ren couldn’t allow. Tol was the enemy. No matter how innocent, Tol was the enemy.
But fates, how could he order such a thing?
After Tol’s confession his blue eyes vacillated between fear and trust, between salvation and despair. Tol had come to Zier and found a home. His loyalty was with Renee but his body belonged to Ista. By his look, Tol knew that. He also knew Ren had to make a decision. Even before Ren spoke, tears welled up in Tol’s eyes. Ren’s heart ached. What had Ista done to this child? And how many others did Ista control with the needles?
“I need to ask you some very important questions, Tol. Can you answer them truthfully?”
Tol nodded, managing to add a formal, “Yes, my lord,” after a brief span of silence.
Ren ruffled Tol’s hair. “Call me Ren. You’re a friend, not a subject.”