He felt the blood running down his leg as he settled into a third corner of the room. He was concerned that he wouldn’t be able to use the attack and charge tactic anymore, plus he might slip in his blood, and in a worse case, he might grow too weak from loss of blood. He reached down and crudely healed the wound.
The four remaining healthy guards approached him once again, and two of them closed in to press an attack. Alec fought them to a standstill, but could gain no ground. One of the laggards, hurled a knife at Alec, and despite his duck, the blade nipped his right shoulder, bringing a blossom of blood there too, he reached to heal it, but felt his healing powers growing weak; the energy and blood he had given Noranda had left his capabilities low, and he was suffering the effects now.
Alec knew then, for the first time, that he was at the losing end of a sword battle, and he felt a bleak sorrow at the thought. Just then a blade pinked him on the wrist, and Alec sensed the end of the battle coming. He gave a mighty surge of effort, and cut down one more, fatally this time with a stab to the chest. There was no way he could escape the corner though, and the remaining three traded small slices with him as his shirt grew torn and reddened.
“Will you cry ‘pax’ man, and not make us kill you?” one guard asked at last. Thewitstepped back and raised their blades to show peaceful intentions. Alec raised his blade too for a moment. He was exhausted, bleeding steadily, and losing the battle.
“Pax,” he said, and lowered his blade to the floor in a sign of surrender.
Chapter 13 – In Mooreen’s Prison
Alec’s hands were tied, and he was led by the men through the hallways, drawing stares from those who had heard the ring of metal. Alec took consolation in knowing that his extended battle should have given enough time for the others to carry out their plans to allow Brandeis and Noranda to escape. As they walked, he did his best to heal his various wounds.
“Stop,” a strong feminine voice called as they crossed a courtyard. Three more guards had joined the ones he had battled, and the ring of six halted.
A woman walked up to the group, followed by two men, “Lapine dear, is this truly the one?” she asked. She was attractive, but Alec thought her looks were mostly dependent on an artful application of makeup. Much attention had also been given to her hair, which was elaborately piled to cascade over one shoulder. She had a greedy, cold, empty smile on her face as she looked at him. He shuddered at the thought that such a person would have any power over him.
“Mooreen, his hair is different, and he’s grown some, but yes, I’d say this is the one,” Lapine said. He appeared to be the same as when Alec had seen him with Noranda many months ago, and seemed to be the least predatory of the three, if looks meant anything, Alec decided.
“Judos, here’s the person who murdered your daughter, claimed to have usurped the crown of the Dominion, killed a great many of our friends, and then entered our own home,” Mooreen said to the third member of the group.
Alec wanted to hold his head high and protest, but felt too exhausted from the battle and the loss of blood. He let his chin rest on his chest. “Some king,” Judos answered with a sneer. “Shall we kill him now?”
“No, let’s lock him away and see what we can get from Oyster Bay and Goldenfields for him. At the very least we want them to anguish over him before he meets his richly deserved end,” Mooreen said. “Plus, we need to find his conspirators who helped him hide right inside our own home for so long. Move along, now. Place him is a very secure cell, and place a stout guard around him.”
The group took orders from the woman, and resumed their journey, leading Alec down three more flights of stairs into a corridor of windowless, airless rooms. “There’s yours,” Alec was told, and he plodded into a cell, where he lay down on a pile of blankets to rest. After a moment four of the guards left, the door banged shut, and Alec was left with two guards sitting outside his cell.
He ran his hand down his leg to the wound in his calf, and gently applied more healing power to it. Although he hadn’t completely healed his wrist, Alec knew he had used all the power he had for the time being, and he allowed himself the luxury of falling soundly asleep.
When next he awoke, he felt refreshed. There was no hint of sunlight to indicate if a new day had begun, but new guards were outside his cell and a loaf of bread was on the floor beside him. He quickly ate the bread, then sat back and quietly covered his left wrist with his right hand, allowing his powers to heal the remaining shallow wound from the battle in Durer’s room.
The guards did not particularly look at him, he noticed. They occasionally chatted with one another, usually watched the hallway, and from time to time tended to an outcry from one of the other prisoners also housed in the prison ward.
Sometime after he awoke, he heard noises in the hallway, and he looked out through the small slot window. Brandeis, looking battered and tattered, was led by three guards to a cell across from Alec and locked in. Soon after that a female voice attracted Alec’s attention, and he saw Noranda jailed as well. Alec felt panic rising rapidly, as his breathing came in shallow breaths and his face felt flushed. He desperately searched for his warrior powers, but felt none available.
The guards noticed him looking through the door and scowled at him. One nudged the other, and they came to his doorway. “Want a show to watch? Nothing to keep you busy, busybody?” He opened the latch, and the two guards entered Alec’s chamber. One grabbed his left arm, and the other threw a sudden punch into the pit of his stomach, doubling him over in pain.
Alec tried to shake loose, but failed, and another punch landed on his cheek, hitting him so hard he felt his head snap back. The guard holding him let go and he fell to the floor. With a desultory kick, the two guards returned to the doorway. “That was fun, don’t you think?” the larger of the two asked sarcastically, and then the door was closed and Alec was lying on the floor, tasting the blood in his mouth as he gasped for breath.
It took several moments before he grew composed enough to reach his healing powers to treat his wounds. He lay back on the ground and felt despair. A shout sounded outside in the hallway, then it repeated louder, and Alec recognized Brandeis’s voice, calling for Noranda.
The guards shouted, and Alec stood and cautiously looked out the slot again. Brandeis and Noranda were shouting to each other. “Yes, I’m here. I’m fine,” Noranda replied to Brandeis’s first call.
“One more sound and you’ll get what the other one got,” the head guardsman screamed.
“Other one? Alec? Durer? Is someone here?” Brandeis called loudly.
“That does it!” the guard yelled, and began to open his door.
“Brandeis! I’m here,” Alec called, both to let his friends know he was present, and to try to distract the guards from attacking Brandeis.
“Shut up you!” the guard bellowed at Alec as he entered Brandeis’s cell and closed the door. Moments later there was a cry of pain and a shout, then the guards emerged and returned to Alec’s cell. “I can only do so much to them, since they’re still part of the family for now. But I have no limits to what I can do to you,” he said in a quiet, menacing voice.
Alec was ready this time. When the second guard reached for his arm, he jerked away and rolled low, kicking the shins of the head guard as passed him. Alec stood, and the two turned to face him in the corner. “You’ll be sorry you did that,” the head guard said. The two of them approached Alec together, and trapped him in the corner, starting to punch mercilessly at his head and torso. Alec couldn’t avoid the pounding and couldn’t keep his arms up to defend himself from the rain of fists that were hitting him repeatedly. He cried out once, then again, then slumped to the ground and curled up as heavy boots started to kick him savagely.
The two guards stopped, turned, and headed to the door. “We’ll be back tomorrow to do it again,” the head man said.
Alec moaned and whimpered, feeling more pain than he’d ever known in his life. He suspected his ribs were cra
cked, and his face felt puffy and bruised. He could feel blood on the front of his shirt, probably from the blows to his nose. With tremendous concentration he focused his energies on healing his rib cage. That let him breath with much less pain. He rested for many minutes, then placed his hands over his face and let his weakened powers seep into the skin and muscle and cartilage. As he felt the pain fade away, he relaxed, and fell asleep in exhaustion.
Time seemed to pass slowly, though Alec had no way to gage the true passage of time. A different set of guards was on duty when Alec awoke and peeked out the door slot. He backed away from the door and sat down to wait for whatever would come next.
Noises in the hall caught his attention again. With a furtive look, Alec saw the brutal pair of guards coming back on duty, along with Mooreen and extra guards surrounding her. Alec backed away from the door and sat back in the most comfortable corner, sure that something unpleasant was going to happen. He reached for his warrior powers, praying fervently that today they would be available, but he found no access to what he needed. He thought of the choice he had made in the tomb with John Mark, and concluded that he was at peace with his decision to retain his healing powers over his warrior abilities. He had restored Noranda, and she would be able to live and love, and that brought him a sense that he had completed some important task in his life.
Alec heard and saw his door open. The two guards entered the room, followed by three more, and then Mooreen. The guards formed a line between Alec and Mooreen, who stood silently, appraising Alec’s condition. “You’ve been kind to him apparently,” she spoke to the guards. “There’s not a bruise or mark to be seen on him anywhere.”
“No milady, we taught him some discip
“That’s fine. You run things here as you think best,” Mooreen responded, her oily tone and her words not matching. “I would think it important to maintain control, but you probably know another way to run a prison. Others would probably beat a prisoner senseless a time or two and then have no problems from then on.”
The guards had caught the clear meaning of Mooreen’s comments, and moved towards Alec to comply with her wish to see him beaten. Alec idly speculated about somehow evading them and turning the tables by taking Mooreen hostage, but within seconds the guards had outnumbered and overwhelmed him. They started punching and kicking relentlessly, as Alec avoided any fighting in return. He focused simply on protecting himself, but the odds were too great, and he began to stagger about, finally falling to the ground.
“Enough. Pick him up. I want to see his face,” Mooreen ordered. Three of the guards lifted Alec, one yanking his hair to hold his head up.
Through bleary eyes Alec watched Mooreen take a knife from a guard, and placed it against his face, just below his eye socket. “We’ve sent a letter to your palace at Oyster Bay, offering to return you to them for a sufficient ransom.”
Alec sensed another presence, an aura of jealousy, envy and greed. It felt familiar yet different. With the steel point of the knife pressing hard into his face though, he didn’t dare to move or try to look around for anyone new in the cell.
“They’ll pay for you, and they won’t care if you’re returned to them in less than prime condition,” she said, and she slashed the knife downward with a fierce jerk.
Alec suffered burning pain as a gash opened down his cheek and he wailed in anguish. “Let him go for now,” Mooreen ordered. The guards obeyed, and Alec’s hands flew to his face as he again dropped to the ground.
“Well Elcome, would you like to say anything to your friend?” Alec distantly heard Mooreen ask as he knelt in pain.
One part of Alec paid attention only to his painful injuries, while another part grasped that Elcome, the traitor from Goldenfields, had turned up here in Stronghold as an apparent ally of Mooreen Locksfort.
“He seems pre-occupied right now,” Elcome’s voice replied. “I’ll talk to him some other time, when he can pay more attention. He’s not very bright, you see, and I don’t want to be misunderstood when we chat.”
There followed the sound of shuffling feet and then the clanging of the door as the entourage left his cell. Alec pressed his hands tightly against his slashed face, and began to let his healing powers flow into the flesh. He held the two sides of the cut closely together and knit the wound closed, feeling the agony diminish rapidly as his powers removed the wicked wound he had been dealt. He refocused the healing power to address the many other points of pain he had received when pummeled by the Stronghold guards, and then stretched out on the floor and lay in a state of near despair.
He didn’t want to think about the prospect of being beaten and tortured daily, nor did he want to consider what might be happening to Brandeis and Noranda in the other cells down here. Hopefully they were not being treated so cruelly.
Alec fell asleep, only to awake when he heard his door opening at some later point. “Up, get up, you lazy bag of trash,” he heard his usual tormenting guard snarl at him, then a boot kicked him directly in his ribs. Alec rolled rapidly towards a corner, where he stood up, and as he did, a flash of color caught his eye. He looked up at the guard, who was alone in the cell with him, sword drawn menacingly. Then he looked down at his arm, where his warrior emblem flashed with a shine of vibrant colors. He’d not seen it in such a state since before his visit with John Mark in the dark underground grotto here in Stronghold.
He felt a thrill of joy! His powers were returned to him! The moon in the unseen sky outside must have passed through its phases to become full again, and he had renewed opportunities to grasp his warrior powers! He ran through the exercise of accessing his powers in the blink of an eye, the old actions he had practiced and memorized and internalized until they were instinctive, and felt the power from the ingenaire realm flow through into him from that mysterious dimension.
“The pretty boy has a new scar already,” the guard was saying jabbing with his sword at Alec. “Able to heal, but not well enough to fix Mooreen’s little signature, eh?” the man goaded.
Alec rolled into the man’s legs, knocking him over, yanked the sword from his grip, and stood over him, weapon in hand. He reached down with his free hand and pulled the stunned torturer up and pushed him towards the door, wanting to get out of the cell as rapidly as possible.
In seconds he had command of the situation. Still holding the first guard, Alec raced over to the second guard and poked his captured sword at the center of his chest. “Don’t say or do anything unless I tell you to,” Alec ordered, as he stripped the guard of his sword. “Now stand up, and walk with me toward the cell I just left.” As they approached the cell, Alec tossed the first guard into the cell and commanded the second guard to lock the door. “What are you going to do with us?” the second guard asked as the door closed and was locked on the now isolated first guard. “I want you to release the other two prisoners who came down here after me, the girl and her companion,” Alec responded.
“I haven’t got the keys,” the guard said.
Alec didn’t believe him. “Let’s go walk over to their cells and ask them if you ever opened the doors before,” he suggested prodding with the sword again.
They walked over to the door of Brandeis’s cell, and Alec called his name loudly. There was a shuffling sound from the other side of the door, and Alec looked in through the slotted window, to see Brandeis arising from his cot and walking towards the door. “Brandeis! Has this guard ever unlocked your door?” he asked.
“Alec? Alec! Alec, you’re out there! What? Yes, that guard has opened my door several times,” rapideis responded.
Alec smacked the back of the guard’s head hard. “Open the door, now,” he said strongly. The guard reached his hand into his pocket and pulled out a bundle of keys, from which he selected one and opened the door to set the young Locksfort free. “Now, the girl. Open her door too,” Alec ordered before Brandeis was even through the open door.
Brandeis gave Alec a wordless hug, then the two followed the guard to the n
ext door over. “How did you do this? What do we do now? We’ll rouse the whole family when we tell them how far Aunt Mooreen has gone! This is unacceptable,” he shot out in staccato fashion.
Alec watched the cell door swing open, and then stepped in front of the doorway, where Noranda could see him. “Is this some trick?” she asked, standing and taking hesitant steps towards the door.
“It’s no trick, Noranda. You’re free,” Alec announced. He reached out his arm and grabbed Brandeis, pulling him into Noranda’s view. “It’s time for us to go,” he explained simply.
The girl came bounding out and wrapped both boys in a fierce hug that pulled them all together. “Alright, now you get in the cell, and give me the keys,” Alec instructed the guard. Alec locked the second guard into the cell Noranda had occupied moments before.
He turned to look at Noranda and Brandeis. He was reveling in the joy of feeling his ingenaire powers flowing through his spirit and body, and he was eager to find action somewhere. “What happened to your face?” Noranda asked, her finger gingerly touching a line on his cheek that he knew was the scar from Mooreen’s attack.
“Your aunt sliced my face open,” he said quickly. He looked at Brandeis and Noranda closely, and saw that Brandeis also had bruises and welts on his face and arms, as well as probably in other places. He started to reach out to heal him, then realized that his warrior powers were engaged. He remembered the results of his Bondell beach experience when he had used healing and warrior powers together, and stopped. He then realized that if he released his warrior powers now, he would only be able to re-engage them under certain circumstances, and he wasn’t sure what those were. Probably this was the time he was using his powers for himself. Probably.
The Lifesaving Power: Goldenfields and Stronghold Page 13