Savage Kingdom

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by Deanna Ashford


  “Then this man obviously stole it.” She waved her hand, dismissing him. “Now leave, and do not bother me again.”

  “I cannot do that, Lady Senshu.” He turned to the soldier who had followed him into the chamber. “Release the prisoner, and be quick about it.”

  The soldier grabbed a wooden wheel set in the wall and turned it, loosening the chains that held Jaden. As his feet touched the floor and the pressure on his arms and shoulders was at last released, Jaden gave a sigh of relief. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, his legs refused to hold him, and he slumped to his knees.

  “You will rue the day you crossed me, seneschal,” she warned.

  “I doubt that, my lady.” He undid Jaden’s manacles, blanching when he saw the mark on the inside of Jaden’s left wrist. In the dim light, it glowed with an unearthly silver fire. “Forgive me,” he said to Jaden. “Whoever strung you up in here should have noticed this immediately.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Jaden said, forcing himself to his feet. He straightened, standing tall, determined not to show weakness in front of these men.

  “Bring the Dai’Shi-en something to wear and make sure it is of suitable quality,” the Seneschal ordered. “The Lady Senshu has committed a grave error, Dai’Shi-en. One Lord Naga will hear of as soon as he returns.”

  “If she affords me all suitable respect from now on, I may decide to overlook this incident.” Jaden glared coldly at the lady, who stared at him as if she could not believe what she was seeing. Taking the keitan from her limp hand, he bent and whispered in her ear. “Beware, lady. I might decide to use this on you. I promise if I do, it will give you only the kiss of pain.”

  It appeared she wouldn’t be easily cowed because she stared him straight in the eye. “Why, may I ask, is a Dai’Shi-en sneaking into this citadel in the company of our enemies, Lord Sarin of Percheron and King Tarn of Kabra?”

  “Why else but to lead them directly into the hands of the Dragon Lords,” Jaden replied as a soldier handed him a long, richly decorated black velvet cloak.

  Chapter Ten

  “We’ll have to be very careful.” Asumi eased the hood of her dark blue silk cloak over her head and fastened the veil across the lower half of her face, waiting for Nerya to do the same. “Lord Naga allows me to visit the child because he finds pleasure in my company. But taking you with me is very foolhardy. I don’t know how I allowed you to persuade me into this.”

  “I know I’m putting you in danger, but if we’re caught, I’ll tell them I forced you into it,” Nerya said as they left the relative safety of the seraglio and walked swiftly along a narrow passageway.

  “I just hope no one reports this to Lord Naga when he returns,” Asumi said.

  She led Nerya up a wide marble staircase and along another, wider passageway. The servants they passed ignored them. Their only purpose in life was to obediently follow the instructions of their master. They had no free will at all. The soulless ones, as Asumi called them, disgusted Nerya. She hated their blank, expressionless faces and the strange milky texture of their eyes.

  Nerya had learned how the soulless ones had come about. Every so often Lord Naga’s soldiers would go into the poorer parts of Usaka and round up some of the inhabitants. The men had orders not to touch the more affluent citizens who contributed to the wealth of the city. The captives were taken back to the citadel where Lord Naga used them for his own nefarious ends, drawing out their souls and every iota of self will. He used this power to increase the strength of his own magic and, after he was finished with them, he set them to work as servants within the citadel. Without their souls, they slowly faded and eventually died.

  “Here we are,” Asumi said as they reached a thick oak door. The guard on duty opened the door and stepped aside to allow them to enter.

  Brion sat crosslegged on an ornate carpet playing with a pair of long-haired, grey kittens. The boy appeared well, which Nerya found surprising after all that had happened to him. If only she could send a message to her sister assuring her Brion was fine; but that wasn’t possible, and she had no knowledge of what the future held for either her or Brion. Jaden and his companions might find it too difficult to break into the citadel and rescue them.

  The room had a pleasant atmosphere. Bright sunshine streamed through the arched windows, and to one side was a door that led into a garden. They were quite high, so Nerya presumed the garden must have been constructed on top of an adjacent building.

  “Asumi!” Brion seemed pleased to see Asumi. He smiled as she removed her veil and cloak. “Chang said you would be coming this afternoon. I’ve set up the board and I’m going to beat you this time.”

  Tossing aside her outer garments, Nerya kneeled on the floor beside Brion. She’d chanced confiding in Asumi and told her who she truly was. Nerya was certain her new friend wouldn’t betray her. It was Asumi who’d persuaded her not to try to escape just yet, this place was so heavily guarded she’d no chance of getting away. “Brion. I was worried about you.”

  “Worried, why?” He wrinkled his brow as he stared at her. “Do I know you, lady?”

  “Don’t you remember I met you in your mother’s tent? You were playing with your wooden soldiers.” She detected no hint of remembrance on his face, only confusion. “You said you’d let me play with your soldiers one day.”

  “Soldiers.” Brion nodded. “I had some once…” He pursed his lips. “But I think I lost them.” He picked up one of the kittens and placed it on her lap. “You can play with him if you like, but you are mistaken. I have no mother. Maybe she died when I was very young. I don’t remember her at all.”

  The kitten rubbed itself against Nerya’s hand and purred. “What about your father?” Nerya asked.

  Brion shook his head. “Lord Naga is my guardian and he will always care for me. He’s all I need.”

  “Lord Naga, his guardian?” Nerya turned to Asumi.

  She shrugged. “Brion truly believed that, Nerya. Lord Naga cast a spell on the boy, to make him forget. He claims it’s for his own good. There’s nothing you can do about it.” She held out her hand. “Come, Brion, let’s play.”

  Brion scrambled to his feet and ran over to a table where a board and a number of carved wooden pieces had been laid out. “I’ll beat you this time, Lady Asumi,” Brion insisted. “Chang’s been teaching me some special moves.”

  “Perhaps I should be concerned.” Asumi spoke teasingly to Brion. “Chang is good at this game.” She kissed Brion’s cheek. She’d told Nerya she was fond of the boy as he reminded her of her youngest brother. She’d been torn from her home by Lord Naga’s guards five years ago and hadn’t seen her family since that fateful night. “I’ll try my best not to let you win, little man.” She sat at the table. Brion sat beside her and started aligning the pieces on the board.

  Hearing a slight sound, Nerya turned her head to see a man step through the door from the garden. She presumed it must be Chang, the man who cared for Brion, and she hoped he’d not overheard what she’d said. She was lost if Lord Naga discovered who she truly was. Asumi had warned her about Chang’s rather unusual appearance. Nerya tried not to stare at him, but with his shaven head, slanted eyes, yellowish skin and strange, gill-like scars across cheeks, he did look a little odd.

  “You’ve no reason to be troubled.” Chang moved to Nerya’s side. “Brion hasn’t been harmed by the spell, and it could be broken if he were ever returned to his mother.” His expression was inscrutable. Yet as he looked into her eyes, she had the strangest feeling he knew far more about her than he should. Almost as if he could read her thoughts. “Although you know that is very unlikely, don’t you, my lady?”

  Sarin prodded the wooden bowl which had been placed at his feet by one of the guards. “That’s disgusting.”

  Tarn leaned forward as far as his chains would allow and picked up the food. He dipped his finger in the grey glutinous mush. “It doesn’t taste too bad,” he said, licking it off his finger. “Although it needs mor
e salt. It’s no worse than the stale bread they gave us last night. I nearly broke my teeth on that.”

  “I wish now I’d eaten something at that inn,” Sarin grumbled. “But the place was so dirty.”

  “You can’t afford to be fastidious in here.” Using his fingers, Tarn scooped some of the mush into his mouth.

  “Fastidious. Me?” Sarin grinned. “What makes you think that, Tarn?”

  Tarn had seen for himself what a luxurious life Sarin led in Percheron. He lived in a beautiful palace, his servants pandered to his every whim and, in addition to his wife, he had a harem of beautiful concubines to pleasure him whenever he wished. If Tarn too hadn’t been in such perilous position, Sarin’s repugnance might have amused him far more. Even so, he couldn’t help secretly enjoying the sight of the lord of Percheron chained to a wall in this stinking dungeon.

  Tarn wriggled around on the thin layer of straw that covered the flagstone, trying to get a little more comfortable. His butt was going numb. Riding a horse all day was one thing, but sitting on cold flagstones for hours on end was becoming painful. Their chains weren’t long enough to let them stand, or even lie down, for that matter. Sighing, he leaned against the cold stone wall. “You have to eat, to keep up your strength. Force it down.”

  “Yes, I’ll keep up my strength just so I can kill these bastards who imprisoned us.”

  “Just keep thinking that.” Tarn finished off the last remnants in his small bowl and licked his fingers. He was still hungry, and if Sarin didn’t eat his meal, he would.

  “It isn’t easy to think positively in here,” Sarin grumbled, staring at his food in disgust. He shook his head. “It isn’t as if we have any idea what to expect in this damn place. We know very little about Acheron and nothing at all about the mage who rules this city.”

  For many years he and Sarin had been enemies, but as time had passed and there’d been peace between Percheron and Kabra, they’d formed a grudging respect for one another. Tarn had been surprised and grateful when Sarin had insisted on accompanying him on the mission to rescue Brion. Now it appeared he’d led him into a trap.

  “You know we’ll get out of here?” he said, trying to sound confident. He knew it was fear of magic that concerned Sarin. He feared it too. Neither of them had any defense against it.

  “You think we will?” Sarin arched his dark eyebrows. “At present I don’t see how. We’re both chained down here in the dungeons. Nerya is imprisoned in Lord Naga’s seraglio, and Jaden…” He shrugged. “We’ve no idea what’s happened to him. He may be dead, for all we know.”

  “He isn’t.”

  They’d both seen Jaden fall only a heartbeat or so after that tiny dart struck his neck. Whether it had killed Jaden or just knocked him out, they couldn’t be certain. But at that moment they’d both known just the two of them had no chance of fighting their way out. Reluctantly, he and Sarin had dropped their swords and surrendered.

  Neither of them had been questioned. They’d just been brought to this cell and chained to this damn wall with no idea what fate awaited them.

  “I think I’d rather starve than eat this muck.” Sarin grimaced as he picked up his bowl. “And there’s not even a spoon to eat it with. I always give my prisoners spoons.”

  “Sarin, you never cease to amaze me.” Tarn smiled. “You worry about a paltry spoon at a time like this.”

  “Yes, a spoon.” Sarin chuckled. “It does seem a bit ridiculous, doesn’t it? Worrying about not having a spoon when I might be facing death or even worse at any moment.” He tossed the bowl across the cell, and it hit the wall with a sharp crack. The gelatinous mess spattered all over the floor.

  A soldier stepped into their cell. “You don’t like our food?”

  “Are you surprised?” Sarin asked.

  This was the first time they’d seen anyone other than their jailer since they’d been brought here. Tarn had no idea whether it was day or night. There were no windows in the cell, and it was illuminated by a small, smelly oil lamp set in a niche in the stone wall, far out of reach.

  “You should eat.” A beautiful blonde woman clad in a pale pink silk gown with a wide, deep pink sash tied around her slim waist, followed the soldier into the cell. “You both need to keep up your strength for what lies ahead.”

  “What does lie ahead, beautiful lady?” Sarin stared at her with evident admiration. Tarn suppressed a grin. Did he honestly think he could seduce this woman into releasing them?

  She lifted the hem of her dress and stepped over the mess on the floor. “What do you think your future holds for you?” She surveyed them both. “You invaded our lands, did you not?”

  “For due cause.” Tarn glared at her. “Your mercenaries stole my son.”

  “Tarn, you really are a fine figure of man.” She narrowed her eyes. “If I’m honest, the former ruler of Percheron is a little too scrawny for my tastes.”

  “Former ruler?” Sarin exclaimed in derision. “Not while I have one breath left in my body, lady.”

  “That can be arranged. Many things can be arranged if I wish it.”

  “How about one night in your bed before you decide on my fate?” Sarin purred. “I promise you’d not be disappointed.”

  She gave a brittle laugh. “I think not, Sarin.” Her gaze focused on Tarn. “As I said, my tastes run in different directions.”

  “He’s good, but I’m better,” Sarin insisted. “He’s not interested in other women. He’s deeply in love with his wife.”

  “So what? Men will do virtually anything to protect their own children. Brion is here in the citadel, so close and yet so far,” she taunted. “What would you do to ensure his safety, Tarn?”

  “Brion’s safety?” Tarn’s heart beat faster. So Brion was here. If only they’d let him see his son. “As you say, lady…anything.” He wouldn’t beg her to tell him if Brion was well and unharmed. He saw no mercy in her eyes.

  “Our companion, Jaden,” Sarin enquired. “Is he still alive?”

  “Alive?” She glanced toward the door of the cell. “Why not see for yourself?”

  Tarn braced himself for the worst, expecting to see Jaden in terrible condition after enduring a brutal interrogation. Instead, to his surprise, Jaden strode into their cell, magnificently dressed in tight black breeches covered by an ankle-length black velvet robe decorated down the front with gold thread and precious stones. A heavy gold pendant in the shape of a dragon hung around his neck.

  “Jaden?”

  Tarn’s relief died. There was not a flicker of true recognition in Jaden’s expression. Perhaps the mage had put some kind of magical enchantment on Jaden to make him behave in this strange way.

  “My lord.” To both prisoners’ confusion, the lady bowed her head to Jaden as if he were a person of great importance. Most surprising of all, Tarn could have sworn he detected a flicker of fear cross her features.

  Jaden did not bother to acknowledge her as he examined Tarn and Sarin with eyes as cold and dark as the nearly bottomless pit that led to the underworld. It struck Tarn that, for whatever reason, the man he’d considered a friend was no longer there. This person was a stranger to him. A shiver of fear slid up his spine.

  “You’re looking surprisingly well,” Sarin sneered as he stared with disgust at Jaden.

  “So you were not aware your traveling companion was a member of the Dai’Shi-en?” the lady enquired.

  “Dai’Shi-en? I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” Tarn replied.

  “I serve the empress.” Jaden’s tone was harsh.

  “Empress Eridea, wife of the Dark Lord, the ruler of Acheron and leader of the Dragon Lords,” the woman explained, glancing a little nervously at Jaden. “I admit his unexpected and rather strange method of arrival surprised us all. The Dai’Shi-en are the Dragon Lords’ most trusted, respected and feared followers.”

  It appeared Jaden of Iberim was far more than he’d ever claimed to be. Had everything he’d told them been a lie? Yet Tarn had seen
letters from the Emperor of Marquab informing them Jaden was the Suzerain Commander of his forces. Now this woman claimed he was in the service of the Dragon Lords and an enemy to them all. Yet something deep inside his mind told Tarn he shouldn’t be so quick to judge what he didn’t understand. He should at least give Jaden the benefit of the doubt until he was certain he’d betrayed them.

  Sarin had no such benevolent thoughts, it appeared. “Traitor,” he sneered. “You betrayed us. You used us and led us into a trap.”

  “You may leave now,” Jaden told the woman. She tossed her head in irritation, but she did as he said. Her soldier escort followed her from the cell.

  Tarn waited, hoping for some sign of recognition from Jaden now they were alone, but his friend’s expression didn’t soften for a moment.

  “I did what I had to do.” Jaden addressed them both. “To further my purpose here.”

  “Your purpose,” Sarin muttered. “I can’t believe I ever let myself trust you, Jaden of Iberim.”

  “We all make the wrong choices at times.” Jaden went to leave.

  “Please,” Tarn said. “Brion, have you seen him?”

  Jaden turned slowly back. “He’s quite safe and well cared for, I can assure you.”

  Without another word, he strode from their cell.

  Asumi reached for her cloak and veil. “It is getting late. We should be leaving.”

  Once she’d recovered from the shock of learning that the mage had tampered with Brion’s memory, Nerya had made an effort to relax and entertain the boy. Asumi and Brion had tried to teach her the board game they played, but it had complex rules and when Nerya got it wrong for the umpteenth time, Brion had collapsed in a fit of giggles. Maybe it was better at present that the mage had clouded his mind and stopped him pining for his mother and father. As long as the spell didn’t last forever, of course.

  “You should go now. Brion has to have his evening meal and go to bed,” Chang said.

  “Only if you tell me one of your stories, Chang.” Brion seemed surprisingly comfortable with the strange man.

 

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