by Frost Kay
SAGE
The clank of the closing door reverberated in her mind. Any freedom had left through it.
Sage was trapped in a stone box.
A wet stone box.
What to do now? Her thoughts whirled at a frantic pace, flipping through ideas. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to regain her cool. She could only thank the stars she had nothing condemning on her when she was taken.
When the prince first grabbed her, she had thought he was an everyday pickpocket. Sage wasn’t even concerned; it wasn’t until he’d started in about information she felt something was amiss. After that, it became clear she needed to escape. And yet, despite her vast skill set, there was only so much she could do against a man who outweighed her with a hundred pounds of muscle.
She hadn’t doubted herself before, often going head to head with men in training. Sage never needed to, she always succeeded. Dueling with the prince, though, gave her a little more perspective. It also bruised her ego. Rafe had told her there would always be someone who was more skilled, trained, or stronger than her. The key, however, was to be more prepared than your opponent in those instances and she had met no one who fell into that category until today.
Sage opened her eyes and stared at the drab ceiling above her. If the crown prince had his way, she would become well acquainted with this cell. And yet…she had been so captured by his dark blue eyes she’d stared into them several times. The crown prince was dangerously handsome. Wide shoulders, broad muscled chest and dimples…the dang dimples. Such a shame his insides didn’t match his exterior.
Even thinking of his behavior made her shudder. He was more animal than man. Sage couldn’t imagine what would happen if he ascended the throne. It was a frightening thought.
Sage closed her eyes and exhaled a long sigh, realizing she couldn’t even wiggle. She’d humiliated the prince, he wasn’t likely to let it go. Men were fragile creatures when it came to their egos so he would come for her; it was only the matter of when. What was their plan? That question concerned her. She cringed, remembering his nose running along her neck. Her heart pounded, breath seizing, as the unpleasant memory flashed in her mind.
Calm down, she commanded herself, he’s not even here.
She took a measured breath through her nose and held it, letting it out slowly to release some of her tension and continued until her heart had slowed.
After a time, feeling crept back into her digits and Sage tried to move her feet and hands. The best she could manage was a slight wiggling of her toes and fingers. Sage clenched her jaw, frustrated at being so vulnerable. She hated it.
What drug had they used? She hoped it wouldn’t have any permanent effects. Sage knew they probably wanted her undamaged. But one could never be too sure. The Crown was dangerous. Most likely they needed her healthy, so they’d have a better chance of getting her to talk. It was a brilliant move, but it wouldn’t work on her. They hadn’t been trained by Rafe. He had shown her that pain was in the mind. Now, for the most part, she could turn it off. Despite this, a million what-ifs played out in her mind.
Focus Sage. Focus on what’s most important.
Trust. She needed to trust the training she’d received, she could get through this. Her first task was to stop worrying and assess the situation. What resources were at her disposal? Sage flopped her head to the side, scrutinizing her temporary home.
Just terrific.
Her surroundings were depressing. Green lichen covered the damp gray stone walls and ceiling. A large grate in the center of the floor emitted a foul odor, and a faint gurgling sounded below it. A lone, wooden bucket sat in one corner, most likely to piss in. Her fingers twitched against the rickety old cot, she was surprised it hadn’t collapsed beneath her.
Having completed the first step, she moved on to the second. Find a weapon. She could probably pull apart the cot and make a pike or club of sorts. Sage chuckled darkly. She didn’t need a weapon, she was one.
Sage moved on and assessed her cage again, this time searching for any weaknesses. A tiny window faced the sea, gracing the room with a small beam of sunlight. There was no way she would fit. And even if she could, she would have to figure out how to deal with the five-hundred-foot drop into the sea below. Her gaze dropped to the grate—that, as well, was too small.
Last, Sage examined the iron bars making up the door and one wall. Stupid things didn’t even have the decency to sport a rusty spot or two. The damn thing looked impenetrable, and it heightened her frustration. She wouldn’t be breaking out tonight.
Pinpricks rushed up her arms causing her hands to clench. Relief swept through her at the movement. Finally, she was regaining mobility, and as soon as she recovered full movement she’d do a more thorough inspection of her cell.
Time crawled as she waited for more feeling to return in her extremities, counting the stones in her ceiling. How much time had passed? Minutes? Hours? Sage had no clue. After a time, her rambling thoughts were interrupted when a horrendous throbbing began in her head and pulsed along her body. The drug had been a blessing in disguise as it had been blocking all her pain. Sage rolled her neck but, rather than helping, dizziness assaulted her.
Get up Sage, you need to get up.
After a couple tries she managed to sit, the room spinning around her. She braced a hand on the stone wall when nausea slammed into her. Saliva flooded her mouth just before she heaved until her stomach was empty.
Once her stomach settled, she tried lifting her head again. Even the small movement was painful now that she wasn’t focused on throwing up. Sage gingerly touched her bruised face, trying to map out her injuries. When she brushed the bridge of her nose, she cringed. It was swollen and crooked.
“Well, that’s just great. A broken nose,” she muttered to the empty room.
She continued her exploration, discovering a bruised cheekbone, a cut in her eyebrow, and a fat lip. She ran a hand along the back of her head and jerked in pain. Sage examined her hand: blood stained her fingertips. That explained the dizzy spells.
Gritting her teeth, she continued, next probing her ribs with her bloody fingers. Each time she pressed down, her breath whooshed out as the pain struck anew. Sage blew out a relieved breath. If she had broken them, she wouldn’t have been able to sit. She grasped her linen shirt and pulled it up over her shoulders with painstaking slowness. Sage ripped her threadbare cloak into strips and bound her ribs. By the time she finished, she was aching everywhere and more than irritable. To make things worse, the cold air on her bare skin had her shivering. Sage squinted at her shirt and hesitated, cringing at the idea of trying to put it back on.
She still needed to straighten her nose though. No reason to stain her shirt even worse than it already was. Both feet dropped to the floor as she straightened. Sage blew out a deep breath trying to psyche herself up for what she had to do.
On the count of three, one, two, three!
Grasping her nose, she simultaneously pulled up on the bridge and down on the tip of her nose. Tears washed down her face as white spots danced across her vision.
Hot liquid dripped down and mingled with her tears, painting the stone floor with crimson spots. Sage tilted her head back and reminded herself to control the pain. If she focused hard enough on her anchor, her family, Sage could turn it off.
What would they do when she didn’t show up? How would they run the forge?
They would search but it wouldn’t matter. They’d find no trace of her. The Elite were too careful to leave evidence of an abduction and with her disguise no one would have recognized her. Dying her hair black with squid ink turned out to be a good move. Even if her parents asked someone who had seen the Elite haul her away, their description of her wouldn’t match her parents’. They wouldn’t connect a black-haired boy with a brunette woman. Thank God she’d also given the Elite an alias. Now they couldn’t track down her family. From this point on she was Ruby.
The faint sound of shuffling steps sounded from the c
orridor. Sage pushed through the pain and donned her shirt, only able to finish enough buttons to keep it closed.
The whisper of leather against stone drew nearer to her cell. Sage straightened, patiently awaiting whomever was paying her a visit. Sage clenched her hands, preparing for a fight.
To her surprise, the old man from the desk came into view. Sage noticed again his striking coloring. She couldn’t decide if it was attractive or off-putting.
He stopped in front of her cell, watching her through the bars. There was something about his eyes that disturbed her, and she tried not to squirm under his intense gaze. She opted instead to stare right back.
Without thinking, she blurted, “Do you ever scare yourself when you glance in the mirror?” Sage lifted a hand to cover her mouth. Why did she say that? She had to get it together, she needed to sell her act.
An amused grin peeked out from his wiry, gray beard, his eyes twinkling with mirth. He clasped his hands behind his back and straightened. “Can’t say that I have. Sure as hell have scared others though. It’s one of my preferred pastimes.” Glee was apparent in his voice.
“Well that’s comforting,” she grumbled. “What do you want? If you’ve come to scare or intimidate me, you’ll be disappointed. I don’t do frightened very well. I leave that to the high-class ladies.”
Jeffry, Sage remembered his name, took two shuffling steps closer to the iron bars.
Why is he shuffling like an old man?
She’d bet her finest pair of daggers that those shuffling steps were all for show. Her lips fought a smile. She wasn’t the only one playing games.
She circled her hand once for him to continue; yet he remained silent, giving her a look she didn’t quite understand. If he thought he was going to unnerve her by staring, he was sorely mistaken. Her green eyes stayed focused on his metallic ones as she stared back in a silent challenge.
He gave her a toothy smile full of white teeth and cocked his head. His eyes traced her face and body. “Underneath all that grime and blood my dear, I believe you are quite the stunner.”
She sucked her cheeks in, trying to reign in her anger at being ogled so openly. She pushed down the anger, slipping into character. Sage batted her lashes and fluttered her bloody fingers at him like she had seen the strumpets do.
“I can stun you all right,” she purred, in a smoky tone. “If you come and join me, I’ll show you how much.” She winked, saucily.
His smile widened.
“I bet.” He shook his head at her, amused. “Trouble, that’s what you are. Pure trouble.” He chuckled and then continued, “The princes won’t know what do with you, that’s for sure. It will be enjoyable to watch.”
“I don’t even know what I’m doing here. Surely the princes won’t hurt me?”
“You aren’t getting any information from me, missy. I wanted to see how you were settling in.”
She scoffed. “Every man who’s ever said he wanted to make sure a woman was ‘settling in’ wanted much more than that. I know how this particular drama ends.”
The old man gurgled. Was he dying? He tipped forward and slapped the bars, startling Sage. Lifting his head, he wiped tears from the corners of his eyes. Her concern melted into irritation. He was laughing at her!
He eventually caught his breath and looked her dead in the eye. “Aye, missy, you’re a beautiful woman, one many men would want.” Pointing to his chest, he continued: “But this old man has no desire for you. I already have a wonderful woman waiting at home for me.” He eyed her again and shook his head. “For heaven’s sake. I have granddaughters your age! Every time I look at you, I only see them.” He sobered, his previous carefree persona melting away. “Listen, tonight will be rough. I have strict instructions you’re to receive no food, water, nor blankets so prepare yourself my dear. Tonight is your first night in purgatory. Good night.”
She watched him shuffle like an invalid until he’d disappeared around the corner. Sage couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the whole shuffling bit. She would eat her shirt if he wasn’t in better shape than most men half his age.
Sage dismissed him from her mind and focused on her newly discovered predicament. No blankets? She eyed the window. It might be her salvation during the day but it would mean her death during the night. She fingered the remains of her threadbare cloak. Were they trying to kill her or did they enjoy others suffering? Sage would figure something out; she had to.
Nine
TEHL
Tehl cracked his eyes open and blinked to clear the sleep from his eyes. How did he get to bed? He sat up; the blankets fell to his waist, exposing his skin to the chill of the morning air. The last thing he remembered was being in the bath. At least he didn’t drown. Rolling his head back and forth, he took stock of how he was feeling: sore, but much better than yesterday. His stomach rumbled, reminding him he’d missed dinner last night.
Tehl threw on some leather breeches, a linen shirt, and a dark blue velvet vest. He may be royal but he would not primp and dress up. He ran his hands through his disheveled hair, not looking at the mirror, and rushed down to the dining room.
Gav was munching on a piece of toast while reading something, and Sam was digging into his mountain of food. “So much for manners,” Tehl commented dryly.
Gav grunted, and Sam didn’t spare him a glance, too intent on his horde. A servant placed a plate in front of him with everything he loved. The delicious smell of baked hot cakes, eggs, and buttery goodness teased his nose. His mouth watered, taking in the deliciousness laid before him. Tehl ignored everything but his food and dove right in.
His mountain of food speedily disappeared, much to his disappointment. Tehl took the last bite of his last hot cake, savoring the taste as it melted in his mouth. Opening his eyes, he looked down the table toward Gav, who was reading while sipping his coffee. Tehl flicked his eyes to Sam, who sat across from him. Sam had his head tilted back against the chair with his eyes closed.
“Rough night, Sam?” His brother didn’t move or respond. “I know you’re not asleep, if I hadn’t seen you destroy half this table of food five minutes ago, I might have believed it.”
“Give me a moment,” Sam grouched, glaring at him.
“Out too late last night?” Tehl smirked. “That’s what happens when you are chasing women.”
“If that’s what he was doing, he sure as hell would be in a better mood,” Gav remarked from behind his book.
His brother leaned his head back and closed his eyes and muttered, “It had to be a woman!”
“What do you mean by that?” Tehl asked, curious.
“What I meant was that woman has caused a ruckus already. Most of the Elite and Guard saw us bring her in yesterday, so naturally they were curious. Last night, a group went to investigate. She goaded them into a fight and they opened her cell.”
“Did she escape?” Tehl growled.
“No, they kept her caged, but she took out five of our men last night! Five, with no weapons. Unbelievable! I slept down there to make sure no other men attempted to satisfy their curiosity,” he shouted.
“She took out five of our men?”
“Well, she didn’t kill them if that’s what you’re wondering,” his brother snapped. “She rendered them unconscious and then stole their clothes.”
Gav spewed his coffee and hacked. Tehl slapped him on the back and turned to Sam. His lips twitched at the irate coffee covered man.
“Great,” Sam blew out. “I am done with this day and it only just began.”
“Why did she steal their clothes?” Gav sputtered, between coughs.
Sam stabbed a finger at Tehl. “He told Jeffry she wasn’t to have any food, water, or blankets until he said so. I guess she figured she would help herself to their clothes to keep warm. She deserved them if she took down five guards.”
Tehl smiled down into his cup of coffee while listening to his brother rant. “One little woman did all that? I am surprised she got the best of your guard
s. It seems they need better training,” he needled.
Sam stood, knocking his chair back. His brother placed his hands on the table and leaned forward. “That is no woman! She is a damn warrior disguised as an angel!” Sucking in a deep breath, he continued. “We have a problem if all the rebels have received the same training as the woman. Ruby was seventy pounds lighter than those men, and she still got the best of them. We don’t know what we are dealing with. They aren’t a handful of unhappy farmers. The resistance is organized and trained. They pose a real threat.”
Tehl turned this over in his mind. Ruby had surprised him with her prowess in battle. Were there other women who were trained? What was the rebellion planning? Her information was vital.
“We need her information, sooner rather than later. You need to break her. We need the resistance taken care of. They don’t understand the severity of our situation or who is knocking at our borders,” Tehl said, gravely.
Sam looked him dead in the eye, “I will pay our lovely captive a visit this morning to see how well she slept. You’ll have what you need in the next couple of days, my lord.” Sam bowed and stomped from the room.
“She wound him up. I don’t think I have seen him lose his temper like that in a couple years. I forgot that he even had one,” drawled Gav, still sipping on his coffee. “If he interrogates her when he’s angry, she could manipulate him.”
“He is the best at what he does, he won’t go in blind,” Tehl defended. “He won’t let her manipulate him.”
“Women are different creatures than men. They play by a different set of rules. She will be more difficult than Sam expects.”
“Would you like to deal with her?”
Gav shook his head. “Not particularly, but it would be better with both of us there.”
“Then your main priority is to deal with Sam and Ruby.”
Gav stood and set his coffee down. “It’s been an eventful morning. I will apprise you of the situation later,” he said tossing the words over his shoulder. His cousin strolled out of the room like he had all the time in the world.