A sense of unease filled Edric at the thought of going through the door. The walls were already closing in on him. To consider going deeper seemed absolutely insane. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he whispered. Callum’s eyes brightened somewhat from the shadows, a hard tug on the sleeve of his doublet signaling Edric to move.
“You opened your mouth, Edric. That removed any chance you might have had to back out of this now.”
“How do we even know she is down here? For all we know she returned to the camp – or any other room in this place. To assume she came straight to the prison is a bit presumptuous.”
“This is Neomi we’re talking about. She wanted to talk to the prisoner. Where else do you think she would have gone if she thought no one was going to help her?”
Logic could be frustrating at times. Edric knew Callum was right. Neomi wasn’t the type of person to sit and wait. Following Callum into the darkness he strained his senses for some sign of where Moinie had gone. Her light was diminished, leaving them in utter blackness, fumbling along the earthen steps leading down from the trapdoor. Somewhere close by he could hear voices. Feminine. He recognized Neomi instantly, his heart fluttering at the thought of being so close to her. She was there. Wherever Moinie had gone, Neomi was with her. They argued now, though their words were muffled, making it impossible to decipher what was being said between the two women.
Out of the darkness he saw a flash of light flicker into existence, revealing Moinie standing only a few feet away, beckoning Edric forward. Pressing himself against the wall he struggled to slip past Callum in the narrow corridor. His entire body tingled at the thought of seeing Neomi again. He wasn’t sure what to expect, though he was prepared to feel the sting of her powerful slap the way he had the night they first met. Back then he had considered the assault uncalled for. This time it would be warranted.
Before he could move past Moinie, he felt her slender fingers wrap gruffly around the chest of his doublet, pulling him forward to whisper harshly into his ear. “You have five minutes. If you so much as breathe on her, I will remove your head. Are we clear?”
“You don’t have to worry,” he assured her, carefully prying at her fingertips. Her grip was solid. Unyielding. With a firm pull she sent him stumbling sideways through a door in the wall, the sound of stone scraping against the heavy frame bringing the darkness over him once again. He was closed in somewhere. A cell, perhaps? It was wider than the hall, though not by much, granting minimal room to move as he attempted to adjust to the surroundings. Reaching his hand out to the wall he could feel the same soft soil which had made up the corridors. Satisfied that it wouldn’t be a hindrance to his internal balance, he extended his hand, directing the energy toward his palm to create a bluish hue, illuminating the small chamber with little effort. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of Neomi standing near the far wall, her stony expression faltering only slightly to see him utilize the magic.
Her speed was remarkable as she pushed away from the wall, grabbing onto his hand in an almost desperate motion, breaking his concentration, the light around them flickering out. “You are going to kill yourself,” she hissed. “We do not require light. Moinie says you wish to speak with me. I will not entertain you for long, so I suggest you talk quickly.”
There was so much he wanted to say! Just being near her again reminded him of the emotions he had tried to fight against since she came to him last. Words didn’t seem enough to get across the way he felt in that moment. Sorrow and grief mingled with the longing to take her in his arms until suddenly he realized he was moving toward her. Stop this! He couldn’t let his emotions get the better of him. That was what got him in trouble in the first place. “Neomi,” he breathed, the sound of her name coming from his lips rekindling the pain in his heart. He had been a fool to think this would be easy. “I was out of line earlier…”
“You were beyond out of line. How dare you speak of me as if I am nothing but a whore?”
“I didn’t mean to imply such. My mouth ran away with me and I know that nothing I do now can take back what I said. All I can do is beg your forgiveness.”
“I am not in a very forgiving mood.”
“And I’m not in the mood to fight with you. If you no longer desire to associate with me, that’s fine. But we have to keep in mind that this war isn’t about us. We are going to be required to spend time in each other’s company and if we can’t learn to tolerate one another, it’s going to make things very difficult.”
“I was tolerating you just fine until you chose to insult me. I would be within my rights to order you back to Tanispa.”
“Yet you do not.”
The icy blue of her eyes stared back at him through the darkness. There was something in their depths that he couldn’t read. If only he could see her face! The darkness worked against him, preventing him from determining what was going through her mind. She looked so sad. Although her words came with such acid, there was a softness to her gaze which reminded him of the way she had looked upon him before, almost inviting in their gentle glow. “You are a skilled fighter. I would be a fool to send you away when my people need your help.”
“Is that really the only reason?”
“What other reason could there be?” she asked. “Do not attempt to read anything more into my actions. I assure you, there is no depth. I keep you here for the sake of my people. When the war is finished, you will leave, and you and I will never see one another again.”
Taking advantage of the shadows Edric let his arms reach forward, the tips of his fingers lightly brushing the fabric at Neomi’s waist. He could hear a sharp intake of breath come from her at his touch, though she made no move to push him away. There was little room for her to go if she tried to run. “I don’t want to leave here as enemies,” he whispered. “Please tell me it is possible for us to stay friends, despite this all. It would be an honor to bear witness to your marriage if you could be persuaded to send the invitation you offered the other day.”
He had promised not to touch Neomi, but that was a promise he could no longer keep. It felt right to have her in his arms. He held no ill-intention, wanting only to know where she was in the darkness, to feel her there. Her hands lifted to press against his embrace but they possessed little power when he knew it would be a simple task for her to push him away. She was a strong woman and he was not fighting against her. Her motions were sluggish, the confusion in her eyes belying the steadiness of her tone. “The invitation will be up to my father to send. If you believe you could behave in a civilized manner during the ceremony, I might be willing to speak with him about extending the request for your family’s presence. There is no date set for the union, however. I cannot say with any certainty how long it will be before the arrangements are made.”
“I thought you said the arrangements were already in order.”
“They are currently in negotiation.”
“So you are not yet betrothed to Enapo?”
Hope burst forth inside Edric, his heart beating wildly. She wasn’t promised to another? There was still a chance he could convince her to come away with him… Don’t be a fool. She had made her feelings very clear. So why did he still not believe her? He felt no animosity between them, her fingers fumbling to escape his embrace while the rest of her made no motion to run. He sensed her discomfort at the presentation of the facts regarding her engagement. “There are a few matters left to be discussed, but it is nearly settled.”
“Neomi…”
“It has nearly been five minutes. You must return to Moinie and see that your Captain is shown to the prisoner’s cell. We cannot waste time on trivial matters.”
“I would hardly call you trivial,” he said softly. He felt foolish. Every part of his brain screamed to let her go and do what she told him but his arms weren’t listening. Drawn to her, he took a step forward, their bodies stopped by the hard, frozen soil of the wall. It came natural to him, his head leaning in. A strange heat seeme
d to flare between them, her chin lifted as if to greet his advance willingly. The brilliant sheen of her eyes slowly disappeared as the lids closed, a gentle intake of air the only sound she made.
His lips were nearly to hers when the hard scrape of the door cut through the room like a knife. Fearfully Edric stepped away, positioning himself against the opposite wall from Neomi, glancing nervously in the direction of the sound. There was no telling what Moinie would do if she became aware of him having approached Neomi. He was treading a fine line as it was.
To his dismay the meeting did nothing to answer the questions still burning in his mind. More than ever he doubted Neomi’s claims to feel nothing toward him. Words only held so much weight when everything else about her indicated differently. She had been open to his kiss. Her attempts to break free of his embrace had been pitiful at best, done more for the sake of appearances than an honest desire to be away from him. So why did she continue to fight him? Why did she insist on telling him that she felt nothing when it was so obvious there was something?
“Prince, it is time for you to leave her be,” Moinie announced, the light from her body appearing in the door to illuminate the room once again. “Your Captain is preparing to interrogate the prisoner. If you wish to join him, I will lead you to the cell. Neomi,” she set her gaze on her friend with a stern eye, “you are not to enter the room with them. It is best Naphul not be aware of our presence.”
Chancing a glance at Neomi, he met her eyes, holding them for a brief moment before forcing himself to look away. Her confidence was gone. He saw no sign of it in her expression under the dim light, her features drawn, uncertain. He hated to see her that way yet, at the same time, it added to the faint hope he clung to in his heart. Right now just wasn’t the time to pursue it. They needed to focus on the war and gather the information needed to bring down the Avaern. “I will see to the prisoner with Callum,” he nodded, straightening his posture, shoulders back, assuming his usual stance of confidence. That brief moment with Neomi was enough to quell his anger for the time. He much preferred to hold onto the belief that there was still a chance for them to find happiness when this was over.
Moinie gave no argument, stepping through the door to allow Edric into the corridor. Neomi lagged behind, seeming uncertain whether or not she should follow. Stopped by Moinie’s strong hand, Neomi remained in the doorway as Edric was led forward, directed to a large stone door at the furthest end of the hall, Callum’s proud form perched in front of it, nodding to Moinie with a sharp bow. No words were passed between them, keeping Moinie’s voice from being overheard by the man said to be within the cell. In perfect synchronization Moinie’s physical glow extinguished as Callum’s palm burst to light, holding steady until Moinie had retreated to a safe distance, out of view from the door.
Free of Moinie’s watchful eyes Edric was able to take in the sights around them with more clarity. Callum was in possession of a key, the heavy design noticeable against the pale skin of his hand as he slipped it into the lock, a loud clink coming from the mechanism under Callum’s fingers. Edric wasn’t sure what to expect on the other side. There had been so much talk about the powerful warriors who served under Emakai. It was unlikely the man would be anything greater than the Ovatai men they had come into contact with, but he couldn’t help feeling there was something more to this particular man. There had to be a reason why he had been spared for so long. Although Okivra spoke dismissively about his presence, Edric had heard enough about the Ovatai Chief to know that he never did anything without a reason.
There was an urgency in Callum’s eyes as he pushed open the door which Edric had become aware of since Neomi first mentioned the prisoner, luring Callum in with the possibility of answers to hasten the end of the war. Edric didn’t doubt that she had made the claim on purpose, fully aware of the effect it would have on Callum. And he had fallen into the palm of her hand. It was incredible what women were capable of making men do. They had a way of knowing exactly what buttons to press that would render the reaction they desired.
Not wanting to be left behind, Edric closed the gap between himself and Callum, helping to support the weight of the heavy door as Callum moved through to the other side. In one of the far corners lay a man, shackled, his face dirt-covered, the long strands of his snowy hair darkened by layers of soil built up over the surface. He made no effort to lift his head at the sound of their entrance, his body motionless, like that of a corpse left to rot in the depths of the prison. The only sign that he lived was the slight rise and fall of his chest, though his breath was so faint Edric couldn’t be sure the man was conscious.
“Naphul,” Callum spoke the man’s name loudly, a sense of authority ringing in his tone as he reached behind Edric to close the cell door, securing it in place. Crossing the floor in a single stride he came to stand over Naphul’s still form, nudging him firmly with the toe of his boot. At the mention of his name Naphul’s head rolled to one side, gazing up at Callum with a glassy stare.
His voice was quieter than Edric was prepared for. Hoarse. Clearly having lain in silence for some time. “You waste your time. I will tell nothing.”
“You speak as though you already know what I intend to ask,” Callum replied calmly, nonchalant. “I assume you to be an observant man,” he continued. “With that in mind, you have likely noticed I am not Ovatai, nor am I a servant of Okivra.”
“I don’t require you to be Ovatai for me to deny you what you seek.”
“You would rather continue wasting away in this disgusting place?” Callum motioned to the earthen walls around them. The only light in the room came from his outstretched hand, flickering a strange umber glow over Naphul’s unkempt appearance. “I understand stubbornness and a desire to maintain dominance by remaining silent, but there comes a time when such actions become foolish. How long have you been here? Nine months? Ten? A year, perhaps?”
“Are you deaf, Vor’shai? I said I would tell you nothing.”
Edric was mildly impressed with the man’s tenacity. So many times he had witnessed Callum’s ability to trick others into answering questions without realizing what they did. Naphul was certainly no fool. He was well-versed in the ways of interrogation, making him more of a challenge. At their current rate, Edric wasn’t entirely sure how Callum intended to accomplish their task. They were limited in what they could do to the prisoner. He was under Okivra’s watch. Torture seemed inappropriate for a man already so withered while simple conversation was out of the question. It would take far more trickery to cut through his defenses than a mere play on words. Their only advantage was in the Ovatai culture’s lack of experience in the art of true deception. An art the Vor’shai had become accustomed to long ago when dealing with the Ven’shal.
Hoping to increase the image of strength Callum attempted to portray, Edric moved to his friend’s side, gazing down at the man, arms folded across his chest. He wasn’t sure what to say. His head was still reeling from his earlier conversation with Neomi. He needed to focus. There had to be some angle they could play. This man knew nothing of the current events. It would be a simple task to bend the facts in whatever direction best suited their needs. But what direction was that? Claiming friendship with Okivra would only hinder them worse.
At Edric’s approach Naphul’s body stiffened, rising to a seated position in a flurry of motion Edric didn’t think was possible for a man so malnourished. Arching his brow at Edric, he peered through the shadows, sniffing the air around him. “You smell like a woman.”
“I beg your pardon?” Edric was caught off guard by the comment. It was the last thing he expected to come from the man’s lips.
“A particular woman,” Naphul smirked. “I would recognize her scent anywhere. I never forget the smell of one who owes me a significant debt.”
“And what debt might that be?” Callum interjected, clearly intrigued by Naphul’s sudden outburst. The corners of Naphul’s lips curled into a devious smile, saying nothing in response to
the question. He didn’t require words for Edric to grasp what he implied. The look in his eyes said it all.
Something about what he read in Naphul’s expression made him uneasy. He was quickly becoming aware of how little he knew of Neomi’s background with this man. Okivra had been adamant she stay away from him. There was talk of a history between the two, but how deep did that history go? What had she offered him in exchange for the information she so skillfully drew from him prior to Edric’s arrival in Nahedu – and even worse – what had she done? A man like Naphul didn’t seem the type to give without getting something in return. The thought of Neomi standing in this cell alone with this man… it made him cringe.
Callum didn’t lose a moment to Naphul’s silence, retaining control over the conversation. “If you tell me the debt you are owed, I may be in a position to offer compensation.”
“Compensation?” Naphul scoffed. “You speak as if you have some kind of control over the It’aryn family.”
“You have no way of knowing the extent of my control. It is by the grace of your gods I was even made aware of your presence in these cells or I might have unwittingly left you to die.”
Naphul’s expression faltered, a hint of curiosity flashing in his icy eyes. Edric wasn’t sure what Callum was getting at in his ploy, but whatever it was, he had managed to catch Naphul’s attention. “What kind of control do you possess which would have left my fate in your hands?”
“So now it is you who desires answers. Funny how these things work.”
“You will tell me what I want to know.”
“I’m not obligated to tell you anything. You are the one who lays bound in the prison I now watch over. It is my preference to simply see you executed and rid this place of your filth, but I thought you might be a helpful asset. Regrettably, I am beginning to think I was mistaken.”
The Myatheira Chronicles: Volume Three: Crown of Ice Page 74