by Rachel James
“I know not. I’ve never been, have you?”
“Nay, can’t say I’ve had the cause for it.”
“Can’t be too many cells. We’ll simply have to take out the jailor and try each one until we find her.”
He sighed deeply. This was it. Once they crossed that threshold, there’d be no going back. “You sure about this?”
Sherwin glanced at him. “’Tis the right thing to do.”
Ryce stroked his stubbly chin. “So it is.”
Slowly he moved into a crouched form and withdrew his sword as quietly as he could. “Stay safe, friend.”
Sherwin dipped his head in acknowledgment.
Ryce waited for the first guard to turn his back, then charged forward with immense speed. He heard Sherwin’s arrows take out the guards one by one as he headed toward the jailhouse entrance.
He made it to the wall and slammed his body flat against it. He inwardly chided himself for the loudness of his own breathing.
Slowly, he angled around. Three more guards patrolled the corridor.
He ran forward, knocking the first soldier out with the back of his sword. The next one came at him from behind. He pressed him against the wall with his whole body weight, winded him with his elbow, and knocked him out with a heavy uppercut blow to the chin.
“What the...?”
He silenced the other with his seax.
“You’ve been busy,” Sherwin said as he rounded the corner. “All right, which direction now?”
The entrance split into two.
“We’ll take one each—probably meets in the middle either way.”
Ryce wasted no time and ran along the left passageway. The walls were lined with torches, but as he travelled further, he noticed the flames grew smaller.
The air is stale.
He sprinted back to the entrance and veered right, but as he turned the corner, he stopped himself. Shouts and sounds of a struggle rang through.
Sherwin is in trouble.
He withdrew his bow and arrow, pulled into a stance, and sped out into the passageway. His eyes grew wider. Sherwin was trapped in a headlock, a blade at his throat. He released, reloaded, and released again at the other soldier.
Sherwin slumped to the ground. “What took you so long?”
“Oh, you know, this and that.”
Sherwin rubbed his neck. “Take it your end is dead?”
Ryce nodded. He glanced at the two soldiers on the ground. Neither one had any keys.
Where was the jailor? The building didn’t look this big from the outside.
“Do you think we’re underground?”
Sherwin stared at the sloping floor. “If we’re not there yet, we may well be soon enough.”
“I wonder what Eadward can be hiding here.”
“Indeed.”
The passage wound further and further down. Ryce kept his eye on the wall torches. Their flames were getting bigger.
Suddenly, Sherwin stopped and held out his hand.
Ryce tilted his head. Is that sound water?
There was a gap in the wall, and Sherwin peered through it cautiously. “Well, I’ll be.”
“What do you see?” Ryce shoved his friend out of the way, and his mouth dropped open at the sight. “Is that...a ship?” his voice grew higher. He peered back into the hole again. He couldn’t see anyone else around. “Come on.”
He tapped Sherwin’s elbow, and they tentatively pursued the passage into the opening.
No doubt about it, they’d stumbled across a ship.
“Where does this water run to?” said Ryce as he walked around the magnificent boat, painted in gold and red.
Sherwin followed the stream. “If it joins the river, then the water eventually leads out into the Misty Sea.” He spun around. “Ryce, we should procure it. The boat will speed our journey to Lyndisea in no time.”
“Nay. It’ll take more than the two of us to set her sails.”
He scrunched his face. “Why would Eadward keep this ship hidden? He has a fleet moored on the coast.”
Sherwin jumped aboard to inspect. “Mayhap it’s stolen.”
“So what’s new? Still no reason to hide it.”
Sherwin went below deck. “Ryce!” he called out. “I think I know why.”
Ryce followed Sherwin and gasped. Never had his eyes seen such an array of treasures. A ceremonial helmet, shield, and sword lay in the centre. Silver plates, a lyre, and various metalwork dress fittings in gold and gems, cascaded the sides. Coins from the Eastern Empire, gold goblets, and necklaces decorated an old table.
“This is a burial chamber,” Ryce said.
“Aye, but whose?”
Ryce shuddered. He did not know, although one thing was clear, the ship had been stolen. “No chance we’re taking this vessel.”
He couldn’t get out of the boat quick enough. Naught like death to make his skin creep. As he jumped off the boat, a rope caught his attention. “Sherwin?” he paced toward it. “I think we have ourselves some transport.”
“But I thought you said this wasn’t suitable.” Then Sherwin followed Ryce’s gaze. “Well, now this little one will do us nicely.” He patted the small rowing boat that sat anchored next to the ship.
Ryce stretched his legs. “But of course, it’s no good to us if we can’t find the girl. And if this place isn’t the jail, then where is she being kept?”
They glanced around their surroundings. The cave-like room had another doorway leading out.
Sherwin pointed to it. “We missed it, distracted by the ship.”
“Aye, and we must make haste, or soon all those bodies we took out in getting here will be discovered.
A sudden noise awoke her with a start. Her body tensed.
I’m not alone.
Two men wearing hoods entered her cell. Teagen panicked as a firm hand plastered around her lips and pulled her close.
“Sssh.”
The cell was too dark to identify her captor. His controlled breathing hitting her neck. He cut her bindings from the pole, tied her mouth with cloth, threw her over his shoulders, and headed for the exit.
The jail door creaked noisily as his accomplice released the lock and let them escape. Her captor grasped her legs so tightly that she groaned in pain. They sped through the eerily quiet building making as little noise as possible.
Where are the guards?
She noticed a body lying motionless on the floor. Was she being kidnapped or rescued? Either way there was naught she could do. Her hands and legs were still bound.
The men deposited her into a rowboat, and she landed with a thud. Her heart beat faster. She dared not hope it was a rescue.
Nausea threatened as the boat’s rhythmic rocking and the salty sea air overwhelmed her. She had to get this gag off her mouth. Its oily stench wasn’t helping.
They travelled a fair distance before either man spoke, the shores of Dyrah disappearing from sight. “All’s clear.”
She drew in a breath as the soldier removed his hood.
Ryce.
Sherwin, too, lowered his covering and loosened Teagen’s bindings. “There you go, Princess. Once we get to dry land, I’ll tend to your wounds. Little point trying now in this boat.”
They know.
“What are you going to do with me?” Until she understood their intentions, she’d not trust them. They might be taking her for a ransom.
“Take you to your brother.”
Teagen studied Ryce’s face. “I thought you planned on killing him,” she said in an icy tone.
Ryce stared out in the distance. “That is what the king wished, but things have changed. We work for Eadward no longer.”
Perchance this was a trap. They meant to set her free to lead them to Niall. She crossed her arms, pulling her cloak closer to her body. “Why?”
“It’s what you want, isn’t it? I’d wager you’d prefer this to the alternative.”
True, she’d sooner be here than stuck in that dam
p, musty cell. However, she needed to be cautious. As soon as she found Niall, he would take care of her.
“Do you know where he is?”
“Not exactly. Our contact in Lyndisea will help us find him.”
Sherwin passed her a blanket, and she placed it eagerly over her legs. “Worry not, Princess. No reason to doubt our intentions. We only wish to assist you.”
She glanced at him, reading truth in his countenance. “But why would you aid me at great risk to yourselves?”
Sherwin studied the bottom of the boat. “No honour is earned serving a tyrant such as Eadward, and his behaviour toward you is unjust. If truth be told, we have been dispirited for a lengthy time. Our departure from Dyrah is long overdue.”
She nodded. “It seems, therefore, I am forever in your debt.”
Ryce paused, not letting go of his oar. “Do not thank us yet, Princess. We have an extensive journey ahead of us.”
Ryce held out his hand as Teagen stepped from the boat. She wobbled but soon managed to compose herself, grateful to Ryce’s strong arm supporting her back.
The last few days had taken its toll on her body, and she longed for a warm bath and much needed bed rest, but she tried to focus on the goal—finding her brother.
The quiet Isle of Lyndisea was not overly populated, and although it belonged to the Shieldoks, its occupancy was mixed. People usually settled here when escaping from the mainland. She was surprised Niall had chosen this place to reside—a bit obvious for someone in hiding.
The sea breeze was strong on the coast, and the winter sky loomed over them like an oppressive cloud. Clinging to her warm cloak, she stumbled after the men who strode across the beach with vigour.
“Where will Freya meet us?” Ryce said.
“Her hut is north of the island, at the highest point,” answered Sherwin.
Teagen followed Sherwin’s gaze to the rocky mound in the centre of Lyndisea. Her mouth dropped open. How would she manage to keep up in her weary state?
Ryce glanced at her, and a small smile appeared across his face. “Fear not, Princess. I’ll carry you, or Sherwin can if you’d prefer, although he’s not as strong as me.”
Sherwin gave his friend a playful punch. “What I lack in strength I make up for in speed, and you well know it.” Before Teagen could object, Sherwin threw her over his shoulder.
“Who’s Freya?” asked Teagen.
“Our contact for the island—she works as a spy for Eadward,” said Sherwin.
Teagen gasped. “And can we trust her?”
Ryce eyed Sherwin. “We’ll see. She’s an old friend, and owes us a favour.”
The men were quick and conversed little. They powered across the island, keeping to the uninhabited areas.
They reached Freya’s hut by midday. She seemed surprised to see them but led them inside without a word.
A fire crackled in the centre of the room, and for the first time in days, Teagen felt safe. Sherwin placed her in a deep wooden seat covered in fur, and she allowed herself to sink into the sumptuous material.
Freya bolted the heavy door. “Need I ask?” Freya, hands on her hips, directed her gaze at Teagen.
“Mayhap not,” Ryce replied as he sat at the table and accepted a bowl of stew from Freya.
“I’ll admit I didn’t expect you. I received a message last night from Kenric stating the plan had changed.”
“What did he tell you?”
“That the Elmetian princess had been found.” Freya eyed Ryce expectantly, her expression clouded over. “Don’t tell me you brought her here, because you wouldn’t bring strife to my door.” She stared at Teagen long and hard. “Well, that’s just great. What game do you think you’re playing by going against the king?”
Ryce dropped his spoon. “It doesn’t matter. Naught has changed, and we need to find Niall. Will you help us?”
Freya paced the room. “Nonsense. Everything’s different now, and you want me to aid in your betrayal?”
“’Tis the king who has betrayed me,” Ryce snapped. “He refuses to release me as promised, and wants to execute the princess, and she’s done naught wrong either.”
“You should stay well out. Of course he wants her dead. She is a threat to Dyrah, just as her brother is as long as he is alive.”
Teagen sucked in her breath, the tension in the room unbearable. She glanced from Ryce to Freya and back again. Why were they even here? Surely Freya could not be trusted. “Listen, I am grateful for all you’ve done for me, but I can take it from here. We need not fall out over this. I’m free from prison and one step closer to finding my brother. If you let me go now, none of you will be at risk of the king’s wrath.”
Freya paused. “She’s right. You’ve done all you need to do.”
Sherwin stood abruptly, his chair scraping across the hard floor. “Nay, Ryce! We can’t leave her here to be captured again by somebody else. She is not safe until she finds her family, and I still need to tend to her wounds.” Sherwin strode over to Teagen and gestured wildly. “See, she has suffered terribly and needs Willow Bark for the pain.”
Ryce placed a hand on Sherwin’s shoulders. “Worry not, friend. We won’t be leaving anybody. We chose our fate the moment we left the shore. The king wants us to do his dirty work. Well, we’ve had enough of being pawns in his sordid plan.”
Ryce walked over to the fire to warm his hands, then turned to Teagen. “Whether we leave you here or not, we will not be going back. So we might as well help you find your brother.”
Teagen examined his face. He seemed sincere, but she had been let down in the past. Lord, what should I do?
“All right, Ryce,” Freya interrupted. “Listen, you don’t come back. I will not be connected with whatever you have gotten yourself into.”
Ryce nodded. Teagen relaxed. Perchance God hadn’t abandoned her as she once had thought.
Teagen pushed away a wisp of hair as she followed Freya in the moonlight. She breathed in the cold night air with excitement.
They are going to find my brother.
Freya led them through the clearing, her hood covering her face. She stopped, looked out, then signalled the coast was clear. Teagen kept close to Ryce and tracked Freya to the edge of the cliff.
“Down there,” she said, pointing her finger toward the rocks. “This is as far as I go.”
Teagen craned her neck to peer over the steep edge. “My brother lives in a cave?”
“No one knows for sure. It’s merely what my contacts have heard.”
Teagen gave Freya a long hug. “Thank you,” she whispered with sincerity.
“Don’t thank me. You haven’t found him yet. All the best though.” Freya squeezed Teagen’s arm gently and scuttled off into the trees.
Ryce wasted no further time. “Let’s move.”
They headed down the path. Teagen stumbled a few times, unsure of her footing.
“Careful, Princess,” Sherwin warned from behind her.
Now at the bottom of the cliff, they arrived at the cave’s entrance. Sherwin lit a torch. “Which way?” A multitude of possible paths stood in front of them.
Teagen crouched low, touching the ground’s surface. “This direction.” She pointed to the left.
Ryce raised an eyebrow. “How can you be certain?”
“See this trail of oil and those footprints? This must be the main path.”
Ryce glanced at Sherwin and shrugged his shoulders. “So be it.”
Sherwin went in first. Teagen took a step forward, then hesitated. The oppressive darkness to which the cave belonged hung heavy.
“What is it?” whispered Ryce, his gentle touch upon her arm comforting.
“I...I don’t...” Her lips couldn’t form the words to speak, and her hands trembled.
Ryce took hold of her hand. “Fear not, Princess. It’s just a bit of darkness. Keep close to Sherwin’s torch and you’ll be fine.”
She nodded numbly. Her brother was near. What more motivation did sh
e need to overcome her fear?
She allowed Ryce to guide her through the cave’s path. She focused her eyes on the light ahead, and tried to ignore the suffocating sensation of death that the darkness reminded her of. A flutter of bats echoed above, and she flinched instinctively. She found pinching her nose helped block out the overly familiar smell of stale, wet rock. The path wound to the left and finally opened out into a clearing.
“’Tis naught here.”
Teagen furrowed her brow. “Perchance we went the wrong way.”
“Put your hands on your heads!”
Ryce spun toward the stranger’s voice. “It appears not.”
“I said put your hands up, where I can see them, now!”
The group obeyed. Teagen’s heart pounded. The man didn’t sound like her brother. Had they walked into a trap?
“State your business.”
“We are looking for Prince Niall of Elmetia,” Ryce said.
“No such person.”
“We’ve reason to believe otherwise.”
“And from which tribe do you belong?”
“We come from Dyrah.”
“Shieldoks! What foolishness would cause you to seek him out?”
“We have his sister with us. Princess Teagen.”
Teagen heard a quiet shuffle and mumble of hushed voices. Within a matter of moments, they had her blindfolded and pushed her forward.
Her stomach tensed as Ryce let go of her hand. “Ryce?”
“I’m still here. I’m right behind you.”
They travelled further into the caves. She tried to listen for Ryce and Sherwin, but to no avail. How many other people were in the tunnels was unclear.
They advanced a while longer, and finally stopped. Her blindfold was removed, and she squinted in the blinding light. The large cavern was brightly lit with torches on the walls. In front of her stood a tall man with long, dark hair, autumn gold eyes, and a faint small scar above his eyebrow. She’d know that face anywhere.
“Ansgar? Is that you?”
“Teagen.”
Teagen leapt forward and hugged her brother’s friend with all her might. “I thought you were dead. You've not changed a bit. Well, except for a few wrinkles.”
“I cannot say the same for you. The last time we met, you were but a girl.”