In Chains

by K. L. Thorne

  “Of course, thank you for coming Uncle.” Sivelle allowed Cirro to kiss both of her cheeks.

  “My pleasure.” He began to walk off and paused, looking back over his shoulder. “Oh, and that horse you said you were keen to purchase? Just off the road towards Rosenhall there is a fine stable that sells some exquisitely bred equines. Tell them I sent you and you’ll be sure to get a good deal.”

  Though Cirro was facing Sivelle, he cast a knowing look to Haros. The demon nodded subtly before taking the faerie’s drink order. He wasn’t sure of exactly where Rosenhall Castle was located, but seeing as Cirro wasn’t staying the night, he presumed it must not be too far a ride. They would be needing a horse to make a quick getaway.

  Without another word, Sivelle’s uncle bid his farewell and disappeared through the crowds.

  If King Zelrus trusted Cirro, then so did Haros. He would heed his warning – he could use any advice he could get. They were already risking enough as it was.

  He handed a glass of port to the faerie at the bar, scowling when the man eyed Sivelle hungrily. The princess was lost in thought, staring vacantly into her glass of wine. She hadn’t noticed his piggy little eyes wandering over her body. Haros clenched his jaw.

  “Your Highness, might I say—” the faerie began, cut short when Sivelle held up a hand.

  “No. I’m not interested,” she replied abruptly.

  When the man faltered, taken aback when Sivelle fixed him with a frosty glare.

  “What are you still doing here? Get out of my sight,” she snapped and the man scuttled away hastily.

  Haros smirked and cast Sivelle an appreciative smile.

  “Nice, well done.”

  “Well, what’s the point in being polite to them now? I won’t be a princess for much longer. I might as well start getting used to being able to tell people what I think of them,” she replied.

  “Fuck, you mean all this time this was you being polite? Hestaesia help us!”

  “Shut up,” Sivelle laughed and took a sip from her glass.

  A door at the back of the room opened and King Lazuli returned to his throne. Haros followed him with his eyes, feeling his ire flare just looking at the smug bastard.

  Haros had never seen the faerie king in the flesh before. He was not at all like he had imagined. In his mind’s eye, Lazuli had been huge and ferocious looking. In reality he was lean and a little wizened.

  There was no doubt who would win a battle of physical strength between Lazuli and Zelrus, but Haros had a feeling the faerie king’s forte did not lie in his physical form. He wondered if the rumours of Lazuli’s skill with majicka were true.

  “What is our plan, Haros?” Sivelle asked quietly.

  “It’s not safe to discuss it here,” he replied, glancing around. He waved his fingers at her, subtly asking her to follow him.

  Haros headed out from behind the bar, weaving through the party towards the bath chambers. He stopped short as a rather rotund faerie burst from the gents, nearly taking him out with the door. No apology was forthcoming.

  Haros scowled and waited for the man to get from his path before continuing onwards, past the toilets towards a plain, unmarked door. He believed it led to a wine cellar. He had seen some of the other serving staff disappearing and returning with dusty bottles at the behest of some of the more discerning guests.

  Haros waited to ensure Sivelle had seen him disappear inside before he closed the door behind him and waited for her to catch up. A single lit candle flickered on a sill nearby.

  A few moments later, the door cracked open and Sivelle joined him in the dark, dusty space.

  “Where are we?” she asked, looking around.

  “That doesn’t matter for now, we haven’t got much time. Dorian has our bags, we’re going to slip through the kitchen and out of the cellar. After that, Mivian tells me there’s an iron grate on the far side of the castle gardens. I’m going to spring us out through there. We’ll have to hike through the wilderness to get back on the road your uncle told us about, but I think it’ll be the safest option.”

  “What if we come across some of my father’s men?”

  “Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it.”

  “But you haven’t got any weapons or—”

  “I don’t need one. First guard we come across, I’ll ‘borrow’ his.” Haros grinned.

  “You’re making this all sound so easy. How can you be confident your plan will work? I’m going to stand out like a sore thumb in this dress!”

  “Mivian has packed you a change of clothes. As long as you don’t mind getting a bit chilly, you can get redressed in the cellar before we leave.”

  “My heart is racing.” Sivelle took a deep breath and pressed a hand to her chest.

  “It’ll work, just trust me.” Haros stepped forwards and took Sivelle’s face in his hands. He pressed a kiss to her lips.

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she replied between kisses. Her voice shook, betraying her nerves.

  “I know, but you have no idea how glad I am that you are. I thought for sure you—”

  The door burst open and Sivelle and Haros sprang apart.

  “What is the meaning of this?!” an angry voice shouted. Haros blinked against the bright light. A king’s guard soldier stood in the doorway.

  The soldier pulled his blade free and grabbed Haros roughly, dragging him out of the corridor and back into the ballroom by his shirt.

  Sivelle gasped and stumbled out after him, attempting to grab his hand.

  The band stopped playing and the crowds parted warily. Haros clenched his teeth. He hadn’t prepared for this, but he was never one to remain wrongfooted for long.

  Haros yanked his mask off and swung a punch at the guard, knocking him to the floor. The man released him from his grip as he fell.

  “Guards!”

  The party goers scrambled as king’s guard soldiers withdrew their weapons and barged forwards, advancing on their position.

  “Fuck, go! Go!” Haros roared at Sivelle, shoving her roughly in the direction of the main doors.

  She bolted and he followed, shoving another guard from his path as they fought their way through the bodies.

  Haros’s heart was in his mouth, this wasn’t how this was supposed to happen. His careful, meticulous escape plan unravelled, replaced by blind panic.

  The room was loud with outrage and terror. Haros grabbed Sivelle’s hand in his own. Servants scattered and glasses smashed. Haros ducked to avoid a blade as it whistled through the air towards him. Another guard appeared at his side and Haros spun, narrowly evading the man’s grasp.

  Haros watched in slow motion as more guards loomed ahead, pushing towards them through the bustling room.

  Sivelle faltered and glanced over her shoulder at him. “Haros!”

  Distracted for a moment, a brutal punch collided with his jaw. Haros’s vision blurred and he shook his head. He jumped back just in time to miss a second fist flying at him.

  He shoved the assailant and used his body weight to knock the man off his feet. His hand slipped from Sivelle’s grasp as he turned, attempting to fight off four guards at once.

  A terrified squeal caught his attention and he dived for Sivelle once more, yanking her from the clutches of another soldier.

  “ENOUGH!” a voice roared out across the room.

  Haros leapt away as a huge fireball launched across the room in his direction. It was close, he felt the sting as hairs on his forearm singed. The air was thick, prickling with majicka, and flames erupted all around them. They roared to life, eating away greedily at the elaborate ballroom.

  Haros was wrestled to the ground. He was strong, but as six king’s guard soldiers tackled him, he knew it was over.

  “No!” Sivelle’s scream was swiftly muffled by a hand over her mouth.

  The dignitaries and party goers fled, leaving the room vacant besides Haros, Sivelle and the king’s guard.

  Haros lay face down
, crushed beneath the weight of six men. He heard slow, heavy footfalls approaching. Sweat broke out on his brow. Lazuli.

  He glanced up at the faerie king and shot him a venomous glare. Lazuli stood over him, his eyes cold with malice.

  “My king, who is this faerie? I—”

  “Who indeed…” the king responded.

  With a wave of his hand, Haros felt Mivian’s disguise fizzle away to nothing. Lazuli’s eyes bulged and he bared his teeth.

  “A demon?! You fools allowed a demon to enter these halls?!”

  “Your majesty, I—”

  Lazuli grasped the unsuspecting soldier by the throat and lifted him off his feet. Haros watched in horror as the king crushed the man’s wind pipe beneath his vicious grip.

  The guard kicked and flailed, veins popping at his temples. With a guttural yell, Lazuli launched the man into the flames. The faerie screamed and writhed as the majicka seemed to dissolve his skin like acid. Haros tore his eyes away, fixing them once more on the faerie king stood above him.

  “Release him,” Lazuli said quietly.

  When his guards hesitated, the king jerked forwards. Haros felt another blast of powerful majicka hit them and the men flew away from on top him.

  Haros pushed himself up on his shaking arms but Lazuli stepped forward and pressed his foot down against his back with a strength like nothing Haros had ever experienced. He was shoved back down onto the floor.

  “Who are you, demon?” the king asked.

  Haros didn’t respond, just spat a mouthful of blood from the punch he had taken out onto the wooden floor.

  There was a whistling of metal through the air as a sword flew across the room from one of the soldier’s grip. It landed in Lazuli’s outstretched hand and the king flipped it expertly so the sharp point was facing down towards Haros.

  The demon ground his teeth together, bracing for what promised to be his last moments. Haros heard a muffled heartbroken wail across the room and Lazuli glanced up at his daughter.

  “Whatever is the matter, sweet girl?” he asked in a soft voice. “Attached to this piece of filth, are we?”

  He pressed more weight down on Haros’s chest and the demon groaned. He could barely breathe, his ribs wavering on the very edge of cracking beneath the force of Lazuli’s foot.

  Haros hissed as he felt the sharp tip of the sword slice the surface of his skin. Lazuli trailed the blade along his back and the silk shirt fell open.

  There was a long pause.

  “FOOLS!” Lazuli roared and launched the blade across the room. It landed with a sickening thunk in the neck of an unsuspecting soldier. The man tried to gasp but blood bubbled from his lips. He wavered on his feet for a moment before falling to the ground.

  Lazuli raised his fist and Captain Morgwell was summoned forward by the king’s majicka. The faerie stumbled and fell to his knees beside them.

  “Tell me, Morgwell. Do you know what those tattoos signify?” Lazuli asked in a low, menacing voice.

  “Y-yes, Your Majesty.”

  “Then be a good sport and enlighten the rest of the room.”

  “They are warrior initiation markings.”

  “Well done,” Lazuli hissed. “Warrior initiation markings. Meaning this demon is more dangerous than most. This demon could, and most likely would, have killed all of you if I hadn’t been here.”

  Haros sucked in a pained breath as Lazuli pressed down on him harder still. He jerked as he felt a rib dislocate from his sternum.

  “Who is he?” Lazuli asked Morgwell.

  “Apologies, My King, I do not know. He was masquerading as Princess Sivelle’s thrall, we weren’t aware—”

  “My, my…” Lazuli turned to look at Sivelle, who was trembling in the tight embrace of the king’s guard soldier. The man had his hand planted over her mouth, but Haros could hear her frantic breaths as she struggled to remain calm.

  “I thought you were different, Sivelle, but you’re just as bad as your traitorous kin. You thought to deceive me? To bring this animal into my castle? How dare you…”

  “You’re the only animal around here, you piece of shit!” Haros grated from the floor, desperate to drag Lazuli’s attention away from Sivelle.

  It worked. The king’s head snapped back around to look down at him.

  “I was going to flay you alive where you stand, demon, but maybe that would be too easy.” Lazuli laughed. He glanced over at Sivelle and then back to Haros curiously.

  “Is there more than just collusion between you two, hm? I’ve never seen my daughter look so terrified, and you? Well, you were stupid enough to blow your one and only chance at perhaps assassinating me. What would Zelrus have to say about you throwing away an opportunity like that, hm? All for a pretty face. How disappointing.”

  Haros growled.

  “Ah, ah. Don’t interrupt. I’m thinking. I wonder how your king would feel about your death serving to bolster my reign over Awrelwood. Why, I believe you’re the demon that Zelrus sent to break into the castle and rape and murder my sweet daughter, Sivelle. Then I heard you went rogue, killing any faerie you came across until my men put you down like the dog you are. Didn’t I always warn my people of how vile your kind really is? They’ll surely believe a story like that.”

  Sivelle screamed something behind the soldier’s hand.

  “Oh, don’t you worry – I haven’t forgotten you in all of this. I’d need the morgue to confirm the cause of your horrific death to make this story convincing. Fear not, at least one of those men tonight would pay me an even grander sum, if he was given the opportunity to take you against your will and I will gladly handle the murder.”

  “You fucking monster!” Haros snarled and attempted to push up against the king’s hold on him.

  “And you know, I think I might make you watch, demon. You seem like the sort that enjoys a good show. You’re certainly a talented actor.”

  “King Zelrus would never believe you!” Haros yelled.

  “It doesn’t matter what that demon rat thinks. My people will believe me and that’s all that matters. They will rally around me in my darkest hour and we will stand together against your pathetic kind once again. Perhaps this time, I will slaughter every last one of you. It would certainly make my life easier.”

  The faerie king stepped off him and Haros gasped with relief. Before he had time to contemplate his next move, strong majicka flurried around him and his manacles interlocked behind his back, jerking his shoulders painfully.

  “Morgwell, be a good boy and get that demon out of my sight. I’ll deal with him later. The people do so love a good public execution. Sivelle and I are going to have a little chat before I send her back to her room.”

  Haros fought against the soldier as he and his men stepped forward to haul him up off the floor.

  Sivelle thrashed desperately in the arms of her captor, her blue eyes were streaming with tears as she realised they were going to be separated and she would be alone with her father.

  “It’ll be alright, Sivelle,” Haros whispered as he was dragged away across the ballroom floor. He kept his eyes on her for as long as possible until he was pushed out into the hallway.

  Haros could still hear Sivelle’s terrified sobbing echoing around the hallway. He grimaced and shut his eyes.

  “How can you still blindly obey that monster?” Haros snapped as the men led him back upstairs. “Did you not see what he just did to two of your men? Your friends?!”

  “It’s the price we pay for failure, demon. I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” Morgwell replied. He stared ahead vacantly, his voice almost monotone.

  “You’re all happy to serve the kind of man that would orchestrate the rape and murder of his own--” Haros’s voice broke. He couldn’t even talk about it; the words were like ash in his mouth.

  He walked along with the soldiers as they led him up the stairs. They passed Sivelle’s room, turning off into another.

  As the door opened, Haros realised this mus
t be either Lori or Faye’s bedroom. It was identical to Sivelle’s in layout, but decorated differently.

  “Sit him on the floor,” Morgwell instructed.

  Haros was pushed to his knees at the foot of the bed. Morgwell waved a hand over him and the demon felt the majicka fade in his manacles. Haros jerked forward in a vain attempt to escape, but Morgwell pushed him back and his manacles clipped together once more, tethering him to the leg of the bed.

  Haros roared with frustration and pulled against the heavy wooden construction. Though it screeched against the floorboards as he managed to drag it forward an inch, the solid wood frame held him captive.

  “Two of you stay here with him, I’m going to return to the king,” Morgwell muttered and left swiftly.

  Haros slumped forwards, hanging his head so his chin rested against his chest.

  ∞∞∞

  Hours passed and Haros remained in the cold, dark bedroom with the two knights. No one spoke. The two men looked just as haunted as he felt.

  His heart was like coal in his chest. Deep down, he knew Sivelle was still alive. As much as it disgusted and pained him to think about it, the king would likely make good on his promise to make Haros watch what he had planned for her.

  He had to admit the faerie king had a talent for unique torture. Haros would rather take pokers in his eyes than be forced to be present through something so foul.

  The bedroom door opened and bright light speared into the darkness. Morgwell was stood in the doorway with a grim look on his face.

  “King Lazuli has requested the demon’s presence in Sivelle’s room,” he said.

  Haros’s blood ran cold.

  “Fuck, please… Don’t make me go in there,” he grated, feeling tears stinging in his eyes.

  “I have no choice, demon. It’s my king’s will.” Morgwell didn’t meet his eye, just strode forwards and unbound him.

  This time Haros didn’t fight. The men heaved him up onto his feet and one of them bound his wrists back together. They frog marched him out of the bedroom and back into the corridor.

  Sivelle’s bedroom door was ajar as they approached. Morgwell entered first and the soldiers pushed Haros in behind him.