by Susan Faw
Young boyish-faced Joshua, a familiar face from back home, came running forward to hold his and Denzik’s bridles while they dismounted. Two other men stepped forward, and then they led the horses away to be cared for.
Denzik examined Ryder with interest as did Fabian and Nelson. The camp was filled with the sounds and smells of men and women sharpening blades, fletching arrows, and cooking meals over cook fires with the happy chatter of people who had found contentment in a common purpose.
Denzik nodded approvingly. “You run a fine camp here, Ryder. Yes, very fine indeed. I would like to do a walk about to inspect the camp.” Ryder nodded and led the way out into the main body of his band.
The first section of tents housed a group of ladies who had joined them from the last village. Hair cut in the male fashion and dressed in tan pants and leather vests, it took Denzik and the rest a moment to realize they were women. When they did, they stopped dead. The women sat around their campfire, sharpening stones rasping along the blades of their swords. It was obvious they were well practiced at the skill. The closest woman tested the edge against her thumb and grunted in satisfaction as a small cut appeared across it.
Nelson approached the woman and paused beside her. “That’s a fine edge you have put on your blade. Do you know how to use it?” The woman glared at him and then stood. She towered over him by a good eight inches. Nelson squinted up at her and the corner of his mouth twitched, holding back a grin.
She eyed him up and down. “I would not worry about my skills, little man, but more so about your reach.” Ryder shook his head, making a mental note to speak to them about tact.
Nelson’s grin burst on to his face. “What is your name?” he asked, laughing in earnest.
“My name is Candice, daughter of Sophia and Armando, knight of the realm, fallen in battle, may the gods bless them.” She stood tall and menacing, evidently attempting to decide whether he was truly threatening, or just plain dumb.
Fabian walked up, chuckling. “Last time we saw you, Candice, you were but a babe in arms, but there is no mistaking your mother’s good looks.” Her eyes flickered over them all then settled on Denzik.
“I’m sorry, but you have me at a disadvantage. Should I know you?”
“No, my dear, we served alongside your father, and we are pleased to see you doing so well. Welcome to the fight.”
Candice nodded with pride, winked at Ryder, and sat back down to resume her work.
Fabian wolf-whistled softly under his breath and strode away.
“You always did have a soft spot for Sophia. You never could keep your eyes off her legs,” said Nelson.
Fabian’s whistling stopped abruptly, like a cork plugging a bottle, and he quickly glanced over his shoulder to see if Candice had overheard. Denzik laughed out loud. Ryder found himself chuckling too.
They toured the laundry areas, the latrines, the kitchen, the small portable smithies, the supply tents, and the makeshift stables. Completing the circuit, Denzik ducked his head and entered the command tent. Spying a frosted pitcher and some glasses, he poured a drink and took a seat at a table consisting of three wooden boxes set close together in the middle of the room. Ryder joined him with his own glass.
“I am glad to be able to turn this venture over to your more experienced hands. Cayden asked me to help him, but I am sure he’d prefer to have someone in charge who knew what they were doing.” He sat down and took a long drink of the cool lemonade.
Denzik studied him as did the other two. Ryder lowered his glass and his eyes travelled between the three men. “What?”
“We have no intention of taking over your camp or your men,” Denzik said. “They are gathered together and are loyal to you. You and you alone are their leader. They would not do half as well under another’s command.”
Ryder frowned. “They are here because they wanted to help in recapturing the castle to oust the queen. It has nothing to do with me.”
Nelson spoke this time. “I doubt that’s true, lad, but you are the one who showed them the way and that makes you their leader. They trust you.”
“But I know nothing of wars or battles. Sure, I once dreamed of becoming a knight, but it was a childish dream. I cannot captain these men, not in a real battle,” Ryder protested.
“A true captain points the way. He doesn’t do the majority of the battling. Fighting is what his troops do. And a wise general places many capable captains under his command. Do you have a title? What do the men call you?” said Fabian.
“I…well actually they call me ‘sir’ or ‘lord.’ Only those in command have titles and they are all captains.”
“Then by your own command structure, you have assigned yourself the role of Captain General of the Band. Congratulations on your promotion, General.” Denzik clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. Ryder groaned as the three men laughed at his stunned expression.
“Now, let us make plans for moving this army forward. By the time we are finished here, our scout should be back with the other band’s location.”
Chapter 47
CAYDEN WOKE SLOWLY, his mind fuzzy and his tongue dry as though coated in chalk. He tried to swallow, but his tongue stuck to his cheek with the gummy glue of his saliva. He dozed, the effort of lifting his head an impossible task. He dreamed he was surrounded by people, arms reaching out to him, begging him to hold them, yet he was only one man. How could he hold and comfort them all at once?
He jerked at a loud noise and began the climb toward consciousness, but then the sound went away and he succumbed to the darkness again.
“When is he going to wake?”
“You wanted us to keep him drugged. We have done exactly what you told us to do.”
“We don’t even know if he is the one we seek. I will not carry word of this man to Her Majesty without knowing for certain. You will discontinue the drugging and let him wake. The minute he does awaken, you will summon me and only me in person and with the utmost secrecy. Understood?”
“Yes, my lord. It will be as you command.”
Cayden drifted in semi-consciousness. Were those real people, real voices? Or were they more muddled dreams? He wasn’t sure. He thought he heard a key rattle in a metal lock, but maybe that was his imagination too. He had had so many dreams he couldn’t begin to sort reality from fiction.
Yesterday—at least he thought it was yesterday—he had dreamed of a short fairy-like creature who had wanted him to dance a childish dance he didn’t know to amuse the queen. When he had told her he didn’t know the steps, she had grown to eight feet tall, her clothes had darkened and lengthened to black hooded robes. Her beady red eyes stared and she hissed at him from the dark depths. It didn’t matter anymore. The party was over. His time was up, and this time he was going to die.
Cayden jerked awake this time to complete darkness. He tried to raise his head but found the effort more than he could manage. He stifled a groan, attempting to roll over, but his legs and arms were bound behind his back. He gingerly moved them to test if they were operational and a quick exploratory showed no obvious injuries or broken bones. He was lying on his right side on a stone floor. A green glow emanated from the rocky floor, walls, and ceiling, giving a faint but ghostly light. He lifted his head a fraction, trying to observe his surroundings, for he had no doubt where he was: in a prisoner cell deep under the castle of Cathair.
He was in trouble—big trouble—and this time there was no one around to help get him out of this jam. There was complete silence in the dungeon. He was unable to tell if there were other cells or other prisoners around him. The silence was complete. He attempted to move, to wiggle his fingers and toes as they were numb with cold. The ropes were tight, cutting into his skin, restricting the blood’s circulation to his hands and feet. He did not know how long he had lain in one position. Cayden tensed and relaxed his muscles slowly and methodically, bringing circulation back into their lengths. His toes and fingertips burned as oxygen moved into muscles stiff from lack
of use.
As he wiggled, his head bumped into an object placed on the floor. He strained around and found a ceramic bowl with some kind of gruel mixture and a second bowl with water. He wiggled his way around and lifted his head and slurped the cold water, much like a dog would. He lapped eagerly and then halfway through, stopped as a thought hit him. What if there were more drugs in the water? He grimaced and continued drinking. He would have to risk it. The bowl tipped as his head sagged against the rim and then clanked back down, spilling precious water onto the stone floor. He lapped it all, eager for every drop. Afterward, he relaxed back on the floor, resting for a second, letting the water soak into his parched throat and soothe his dry mouth. He felt the drugs’ effects weakening their hold on him as the water flushed the remaining drugs from his system.
He reached out with his mind to Ziona. Ziona, are you there? He felt a stirring in the bond as though she was also asleep. Ziona. Wake up, Ziona. Come on…
Ziona’s consciousness blurred and sharpened as she struggled against sleep. “Cayden?” Suddenly, her mind snapped into focused reality with the force of a bow string. Cayden, you’re alive! Where are you? Wait! He felt her stop the communication with him for a second and he imagined her rushing from her tent to call the guards. Just as quickly, she re-entered his mind. Cayden, can you tell me where you are?
I think I am in a prison cell in the dungeons under the castle in Cathair. It has the look of a cell.
Are you hurt? Is anyone there with you?
No, I am alone, but I am bound hand and foot. I woke up a few minutes ago.
OK. Please do not do anything stupid. We are coming for you one way or another. Take care of yourself as best you can till we get there. OK?
I will. Are you OK? You seemed to be in a really deep sleep.
What you experience in the waking world affects me also. Did they have you drugged?
Yes. That is how the Charun took me.
Charun! He felt her shiver through the bond. At least you are still alive. We are missing two guards here.
Yes, they were felled by black arrows. Darius shot them. He betrayed us, me, to the Charun.
Darius! When did he arrive?
It was while you were resting. He was going to take me to Ryder, or so I thought. He said something about him being at the village on the outskirts of Cathair. I think that much of it was true.
We will see if we can find him. Stay safe, Cayden! Alert me should anything happen. I can hear your thoughts and will know. He felt a flood of warmth that felt a lot like love, flow through the bond. He sent it back to her.
“Cayden, are you awake?”
This voice was not in his head. It was whispered.
“Who are you? How do you know my name?”
“Finally,” the voice whispered in relief. “I am Mordecai Ben-Moses. It has been I who has been calling you in your dreams. We have much to talk about,” the disembodied voice said.
“Are you the one who can give me answers? Aossi said there was one who could help me located here in the castle.”
“Ah, I see you have met Aossi already. Good, good. You are strong with your mother’s blood I see. That is important, you know.”
“My mother was born in Sanctuary-by-the-Sea. She died many years ago. You could not possibly know her? How long have you been here?” Cayden growled suspiciously.
“Oh…I would say for around seventeen years, give or take a few months. How old are you?”
“What does my age have to do with it?”
“A great deal I am afraid, seeing as you are the reason I have been here all these years.”
“What foolishness is this?” Anger and a splitting headache sharpened Cayden’s tone.
At that moment, the sound of boots scraping on stone reached their ears. “Play the fool, Cayden,” Mordecai whispered urgently. “You know nothing and we have never spoken. You do not know me.”
Cayden slumped back onto the floor of his cell and pretended to be sleeping again. He was facing away from the door. The boots drew closer and stopped at Cayden’s cell. A light shone through the metal bars of the small window set in the door. Cayden could see the light swing crazily, the shadowy bars moving from one side to the other as the light moved.
The light receded and paused. Cayden wondered if—what was his name? Mordecai?—was faking sleep too.
The light followed the boot sounds back up the hallway and eventually faded away.
“Mordecai?” Cayden whispered.
“Yes, Cayden?”
“Who are you?”
“I already told you…just not in detail.”
Cayden paused, and then said, “What you mentioned earlier, about my mother. What did you mean by that?”
“Exactly what I said, I was present at your birth. I assisted your mother when she gave birth to the pair of you. She was in need of magical assistance at the time.”
“Why would you have been at my birth? What kind of assistance?”
“Not only yours but your sister’s too.”
“As she is my twin, how could it have been any other way?” said Cayden in an aggrieved voice.
“Cayden, we have much to talk about, but for now it is best that I do not reveal to you more than you need to know, at least until we are out of this mess, which will be quite soon. I am rather tired of this cell and the rats that frequent it. I will enjoy seeing the sun again.”
Cayden pondered this silently from his cell. What would it be like to waste away in a prison for seventeen years? He shivered. He did not want to know.
“What do I do, Mordecai? I cannot continue to fake sleep”—Cayden’s stomach rumbled—“and I am hungry.”
“Eat, my boy, eat. First rule of any resistance is you must keep up your strength.”
“OK, but this is going to get messy,” Cayden said. “How about you talk to me while I figure this out?”
“Sounds good…yes…it’s been so long since I have had someone to talk to. Tell me, can you see that green glow on the rocks? No, wait you should not speak with your mouth full, very bad for digestion. Hum, do you see that glow? It is more than a phosphorescent microbial. See how it pulses? Alas, another foolish question. It’s quite impossible to answer while your mouth is full. I am sorry. I am rusty in the fine art of intelligent conversation after seventeen years of speaking to the same guard day in day out who has, unfortunately, run afoul of our dearly beloved queen.”
Cayden snorted and licked at the bowl’s meager contents. The man was really quite humorous and Cayden would have enjoyed his company if his situation hadn’t been so dire. As Cayden licked his bowl clean, he let the old man ramble on. The food settling in Cayden’s stomach stilled the spidery fingers that had been tickling his insides in hunger.
Licking his lips, Cayden relaxed back onto the floor. “I am finished.”
“Oh, and in the nick of time, too! Tell me, what is your predicament there? I assume you are bound?”
“Yes, hand and foot.”
“Dear me, that is quite unfortunate. I could be of assistance, but untying you would give the game away, certainly.”
Cayden frowned again. He sensed he might do that a lot around this man. “You still haven’t told me anything more than your name. How is it you know mine?”
“Once again my manners are appallingly lacking. My name is Mordecai Ben-Moses, First Wizard of the Fell.”
Silence greeted these words. So this was the wizard Aossi had spoken of. Cayden had believed they were extinct in the realm, that they had been eliminated during the revolution.
“How can you be alive? I was told all the great wizards were dead.”
“Alas this is true, for the most part. I, fortunately, was captured immediately after your birth, stripped of my powers, and imprisoned in this cell. My compatriots, they were not so fortunate.”
Cayden found the mixture of being “imprisoned” and “fortunate” a very strange combination.
“So you have super magical powers, then
?”
“Something like that, I suppose.”
“So…how are we getting out of here?”
“The young are always so impatient. Jumping from one thought to the other. Patience, my young friend, I counsel patience. Your companions need time to prepare and spring their surprise.”
“I am tired of surprises,” Cayden grumbled. “That is how I ended up here tied like a holiday pig ready for the spit.”
“Ahh…well as to that, it was prophesied.”
“My betrayal by a friend was prophesied?” Cayden was stunned by this news. He was destined to suffer at the hands of a friend?
“I’m afraid so, Cayden. This is the beginning of troubled times for the world. You and your sister are being pushed along a path you were destined to travel since your birth. You know this to be so at least in part or you would never have found me.”
Cayden fell silent. What reply was there?
Chapter 48
ZIONA RODE FROM CAYDEN’S CAMP with Tobias at her side and four more soldiers. The number of volunteers had soared with the news that they had discovered where Cayden was being held captive.
Riding into the capital with all of the men in tow would be tantamount to a declaration of war on the capital and they would tighten security around Cayden perhaps making it impossible to reach him or, worse yet, outright kill him before the band had an opportunity to rescue him.
Reaching Ryder was paramount and all she had to go on was Cayden’s clue from Darius. Together, they might be able to mount a rescue that wouldn’t endanger his life.
It was nearly noon when they reached the village of Lower Cathair. Men and woman tended their crops, cultivating the soil and picking produce for market. Children chased other children through the village square, laughing, while dogs nipped at their heels and raced ahead of them.
Ziona dismounted in front of the inn, flanked by quaint stone cottages that made up the majority of the dwellings of the village. The inn appeared to be the social center of the village as evidenced by the chatter that flooded over them as they pushed open the door to the common room. Ziona’s glance around the room took in the two roaring fireplaces and the bustling staff, eventually pausing at a table, where a group of four men and a woman sat. From the breadth of the shoulders, there was no question that she had found Ryder.