by J D Abbas
“Yes, it’s strange how they appeared so suddenly, and we don’t want to take any unnecessary risks.” He grabbed a lantern and motioned for her to come with him as he headed into the corridor. They went down the hall to the last room on the left, across from the bathing room.
“Where are the guards?” Elena asked, noticing the empty corridor.
“Celdorn is giving them instructions on the increased security measures.”
“And Sasha?”
“Chasing a rabbit last we saw her. We decided to let her stay outside. She’s been cooped up too much lately.”
Silvandir led the way into the dark chamber, which had no windows and only the one exit into the hallway. It was small like her old room but amply furnished with a large bed, a wardrobe, a table and two chairs. He closed the door and pulled the brace down. The thunk of the wood sent a chill through her, and her breath caught.
“Am I in danger?”
“If Anakh decides to attack, you may be in grave danger—in the form of lions or otherwise.” Silvandir glanced at her when she froze. “Don’t be frightened. I won’t leave you, Elena. You are safe here.” He reached toward her.
“I’ll try not to worry.” She squeezed his hand, which was twice the size of hers, feeling the strength in his grip, and relaxed. He was more than capable of protecting her. “How long do you think the meeting will be this time?”
“Probably several hours. You may lie down if you like.” He nodded toward the bed. “I won’t be offended.”
“Perhaps I will. I’m exhausted. I’m still not sleeping well at night and having a guard there always watching me doesn’t help.” Elena climbed onto the bed, and Silvandir settled into a chair, facing the door, his sword across his lap. She glanced around the room, and her chest tightened. It felt like a cage. If someone came through that door there was no way out. Her heart sped up. But Silvandir was there, and he would protect her, she reminded herself.
And, she patted her hip, I have my dagger. Holding the hilt, she drifted into an uneasy sleep.
~
Celdorn sent pages to summon the members of the council. In a short time, men arrived in small groups. Many looked surprised to find Keymar sitting at the table, a deep sadness etched on his face, the anger and bravado gone. His companions from Dussendor patted him on the back or clasped wrists. The men from Kelach were more restrained, not quite ready to forgive him for his wayward tongue.
After Celdorn called the meeting to order, Keymar requested permission to speak. Celdorn nodded.
The young man rose but kept his head lowered, unable to look at the others directly. “I have already asked the pardon of Celdorn, but I seek also the pardon of all of you in this room. I have hurt and offended those of you who love both Celdorn and the Lady Elena. I make no excuse. I was a fool. Please forgive me.” He glanced around the table. “I regret Silvandir hasn’t yet arrived for I know I gravely wounded him, and his anger was completely justified. I will also beg the lady’s pardon when it is fitting to do so.”
“Keymar has been under a tremendous strain,” Celdorn explained as the young man took his seat. “I ask you to be gracious with him. We all know what it is to behave foolishly. I have witnessed your folly time and again”—he eyed each of his closest friends—“and you, mine. Remember that.” He broke into a smile as heads bobbed around the table. They were good men.
“There is something mysterious happening in this keep,” Elbrion said, an ominous tone in his voice. “As I went inside Keymar’s mind a short time ago, I found an outside presence attacking his memories and his heart, much the same as the attack on Elena’s mind during the funeral rites. There is some force at work that seeks to destroy us from the inside out.”
“Are you referring to Anakh and her allies?” Haldor asked.
“Most likely. I know of no others who have the power to enter minds and alter perceptions.”
“How do we oppose such a force?” Tobil asked, rubbing the arm that still hung lifelessly in a sling. “I can sense an attack from any direction. I can ward off most opponents, but not if they come from within. I don’t have skills for that.” He glanced around. “Does anyone?”
“I was able to successfully intervene in both cases,” Elbrion replied. “But I cannot guard the minds of over two hundred.” He turned to Celdorn. “We need assistance with this.”
“I have sent the request to Queyon, but it will be weeks before they arrive, if they come at all,” Celdorn said. “For now, we need to depend on one another.” He studied those around the table. “If you notice anyone behaving oddly or if you have strange dreams or visions, you need to speak with one of us, and we will address it immediately.”
Even as the men nodded their agreement, icy fingers reached into Celdorn, bringing a dark foreboding that maniacally wound around his heart, tightening its grip.
~
Elena awoke with a start, feeling someone on the bed behind her, stroking and nuzzling her hair. She turned over and gasped. “Silvandir, what are you doing?” He was lying beside her, strands of her hair wrapped around his fingers, his upper body bare.
“Watching you sleep. You’re so beautiful. I just had this urge to smell your hair.” He buried his nose in the locks he held and breathed deeply. “Your scent is so… alluring,” he added with a half-smile, his voice low and amorous.
“You’re frightening me.” Her chest was so tight, she couldn’t draw a breath. Run! an internal voice screamed, and she rolled to the side.
Silvandir’s hand lashed out like a striking snake and gripped her arm. He pulled her back and pressed her shoulder down. “There’s nothing to fear, Elena.” He propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at her, stroking her face. “I would never hurt you. I’m just admiring your beauty. Your face is mesmerizing, your skin so soft, so perfect. I feel as if I have fallen under your spell.”
He leaned down and kissed her, breathing deeply as he pressed his lips against hers. She yanked her face away. “My spell? Have you gone mad?”
“How can you not know how I feel? Isn’t it obvious?” He leaned closer. “I couldn’t stand another minute of being near you and not holding you in my arms. Your flesh has been calling to me from the first day I met you.”
“What?” Something squeezed her heart until she was sure it would stop beating.
“Don’t you realize your body cries out to be touched?”
“Y-you are misunderstanding its cry,” she whispered.
“No, I clearly hear your longing to be loved and held… and caressed.” His hand inched down her neck, undoing the first buttons, and slid inside her shirt.
Elena sucked in a breath as icy terror swept through her. “I-I do want to be loved, but not in a… intimate way.” She sobbed and pushed at his hand, but he was too strong.
“You must be aware of the fire smoldering between us, Elena. I feel it radiating from you every time I am near you—enticing me, tempting me to ignite it.” His voice was becoming halting, breathy.
“Please don’t do this.”
But he continued to unbutton her shirt until her chest lay bare. He cupped a breast in his hand, caressing and suckling it. “You… you are my dear friend, and you know I care about you—but… but not like this. I don’t want to… lie with you.” The fear intensified as his hand moved lower, pushing her back when she tried to sit up. “This is wrong.”
“How can it be wrong? I love you, and I want to express it to you. I want to help you find pleasure where you have only known pain.” He kissed her neck as he unlaced her pants.
“Silvandir, there is never pleasure in this for me. I beg you as my friend, please stop.”
“That is only because you’ve been with men who haven’t cared about you. I want to help heal those wounds.” He brushed his lips against her breasts as his hand moved over her bare belly and inside her trousers. Her body arched. “You see, your body is already finding joy in my touch,” he murmured as he pressed his lips into hers with a fierce hunger she knew all too we
ll, a hunger that cared nothing for her.
She wiggled her face free and tried a different tack. “Celdorn, will be angry. You made a vow.”
“He doesn’t need to know,” he replied, nibbling at her neck. “If you tell him, he will realize you’re too great a temptation within the keep, destroying all our resolve. He’ll send you away. I don’t want you to go away. I want you… here.” He kissed her more fiercely, his tongue prying her lips apart, reaching, tasting.
Elena felt as if she might suffocate any moment. She shoved at Silvandir’s shoulders, twisting her head from side to side, and let out a feeble squeak. His lips found hers again and pressed harder, muffling her attempts to cry out. He laid his body on top of hers, his weight pinning her to the bed as he continued to remove her clothing, tearing at it when there was resistance.
“You’re going to hurt me,” she whimpered, feeling as small as a child beneath him. As he unlaced his pants, she squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath.
“I won’t harm you. Trust me.” He moved his hand between her thighs and pushed them apart. Elena shuddered. “You see, your body knows what it likes,” he whispered breathlessly. “It has had a great deal of experience even if you can’t remember.” When he shifted his hips to enter her, he covered her mouth with his, shoving his face hard into hers to stifle the scream that erupted.
The room swirled and warped. Silvandir pulled back. “No, Elena. Don’t shift. I want you to stay here with me. I want you to experience what it’s like when our bodies become one.” She continued to slip away and prayed it would happen more quickly. Silvandir grabbed her face. “Look at me, Elena!” She squeezed her eyes tighter, and he gave her head a hard shake. “Rakshad!”
Elena felt herself return to her body. Unable to shift, her eyes snapped open in terror when he entered her. She was fully aware of the weight of his body on top of her, the warmth of his shuddering breath as he panted into her neck, and the searing pain as he thrust into her again and again. Then suddenly, mercifully, she began to drift away.
The last thing she heard was Silvandir’s growl of frustration at being left to finish alone.
Chapter 37
Mikaelin was late joining the men in Celdorn’s chamber; Silvandir returned with him, Sasha on their heels. With a nod to Celdorn, Silvandir slipped into the antechamber. Celdorn wondered why he wasn’t guarding Elena and why he and Mikaelin had been delayed.
Silvandir returned moments later. “I beg your pardon, Celdorn. Do you know where Elena is?”
“She was in my room when I left her a short time ago,” Elbrion said. “Is she not there?”
“No.”
“You were supposed to be guarding her,” Celdorn said as he rose and ran past Silvandir and into Elbrion’s room; the others followed.
“Elbrion was with her when I left,” Silvandir said.
Only Sasha was in Elbrion’s chamber when Celdorn arrived. The dog was sniffing around near the fireplace, hackles raised.
“Elbrion, Silvandir, check the balcony,” Celdorn ordered. “Garandel!” When the guard opened Elbrion’s door, he asked, “Did the Lady Elena step out of the room?”
“No, sir. She was in here with Elbrion when Haldor asked for him. That was perhaps an hour ago.”
“Has anyone entered?”
“No, sir, Mikaelin and Silvandir left, then Elbrion. I have been here the entire time and have seen no one else enter or leave, though I can’t say who might have used the interior doors.”
Elbrion and Silvandir returned from the balcony. “There is no sign she went outside nor any indication of a struggle near the doors. The terrace guards noticed nothing unusual,” Elbrion said, his face lined with concern. “I should not have left her alone.”
Celdorn agreed, but said nothing. He turned to the rest of the men. “Spread out and search every room on this floor. Check every window for possible entry. Mikaelin, talk to the guards at the bottom of each stairway. Shatur, alert the perimeter guards to watch for anyone moving around outside and seal the gates. No one is to leave. Then all of you, report back to me. Move!”
Celdorn stood in the hall and watched as the men searched room after room, checking under beds, inside wardrobes, and around every window, finding nothing.
A loud thumping came from the end of the corridor. He turned and saw Braiden in front of the last room on the left, shaking the handle and knocking on the door.
“This one w-won’t open. It m-must be braced from w-within,” Braiden called to him.
Celdorn hurried down the hall. “There’s no exit from this room. Whoever fastened the latch must still be inside.” Celdorn pounded on the door. “Elena, it’s Celdorn. Are you in there?”
No response. Celdorn sent men to find something to open the door.
“I-if it is Elena, w-why would she have moved into this room w-without telling us and h-how did she get p-past Garandel w-without being seen?”
“She may not be in there at all, but who else would be?” Celdorn replied.
Two men returned with a small battering ram.
“Break it down.” Celdorn stepped to the side. “The rest of you continue to search,” he called, not wanting to lose precious time if this turned out to be nothing. It required several strong blows before the door gave way.
“Elena? Are you in here?” Celdorn called as he moved inside. There was no response, but someone had been there recently; he could smell the oil from a lamp. With no window, he could see only a few feet inside. “Get a lantern,” Celdorn said to one of the men. He returned quickly and handed it to Celdorn. The room was empty, but as he approached the bed, he saw the linens were disheveled. Braiden lifted a sheet and pointed out the blood on it. Celdorn’s heart raced. “Elena?”
“Under here, sir.” Rachold was on his knees, looking beneath the bed.
Celdorn dropped to his knees and held the lantern at the edge of the bed. “Elena, what are you doing down there?” He worked to keep his voice calm as he motioned for Rachold to leave.
When Celdorn reached for her, Elena curled back into the far corner, out of his grasp. Terror exploded out of her and rammed into his chest, dazing him for a moment. “Wh-what has frightened you so?”
She didn’t answer or move toward him. Celdorn looked up at Braiden and nodded toward the bed. Braiden slid it to the side. Celdorn quickly moved around it and joined Elena on the floor. She pulled herself to a sitting position in the corner, clutching the front of her shirt and wrapping the other arm around her knees.
Celdorn couldn’t see any injury to her face or arms, but her eyes were wild and she seemed to have little grip on reality. “What happened, little one?” Celdorn reached out to touch her head, but she whimpered, pulling back farther into the corner.
Elbrion rushed through the doorway.
“We need your help,” Celdorn said evenly, glancing up at him.
“What happened?”
“We don’t know. She’s not talking.”
Elbrion and Braiden pulled the bed back farther, so Elbrion could reach Elena. He knelt beside her and slowly put his hands on her head, singing quietly. Elena recoiled, but he didn’t stop. Elbrion’s hands jerked, and his arm muscles tensed. He sang louder and held firm.
Suddenly he flew back, as if he had been kicked by a horse. He grasped his head, eyes scrunched in pain, but he continued to sing, increasing his volume until the room brightened around them.
Elena gasped like a drowning person breaking through the surface of the water. Her wild eyes looked from Celdorn to Elbrion. Then she burst into tears and leaned into Celdorn’s arms, sobbing.
“Shh, shh, Elena, we’re here.” Celdorn held her close, willing his own heart to slow. Elbrion nodded toward the corner where Elena had been sitting. There was a small puddle of blood.
Celdorn’s heart twisted, and Elena’s weeping increased. He suddenly just wanted away from there. He lifted her and carried her back to Elbrion’s chamber, hoping to ease her distress—and his own.
&nb
sp; The men in the corridor stopped and watched in silence, their faces full of questions and concern. When they entered Elbrion’s chamber, Sasha raced to Elena’s side, sniffing and licking her.
Celdorn attempted to lay Elena on the bed, but she clawed at him, fighting to stay in his arms. “Be at peace, little one. I’ll hold you here.” He sat in a chair by the fireside. Sasha took up her post at Elena’s side, yawning with distress.
Elbrion cleared the room, except for Braiden, in case they needed him.
“Elena, you were bleeding,” Celdorn said. “May I have Braiden check for wounds?”
She shook her head vehemently and clung to him.
“All right, all right,” he soothed. “Do you know where you are injured?”
The girl nodded into his chest.
“Where?”
Elena gazed at him directly, eyes pleading, but she seemed unable to speak.
He stroked her face. “Did someone hurt you?” As she looked back at him, he saw the desperation of an innocent child, shattered by the world in which she found herself, and yet she hadn’t shifted.
The hallway door flew open with a bang, and Silvandir entered. “I heard you found Elena.” His voice was loud, distressed, his face full of questions. He glanced toward the girl and paled.
Elena whimpered and turned into Celdorn’s chest, clawing at his arm. Sasha jumped to her feet and stood in front of the girl, hackles up again.
“It’s all right. It’s only Silvandir,” Celdorn assured Elena—and the dog.
“Is she injured?” Silvandir asked Braiden.
Braiden shrugged. “I-I don’t know. Th-there was only a small amount of b-blood, so I d-doubt she is badly hurt.”
Sasha yipped and backed away from Elena just as the girl clutched at her chest, her breaths turning to gasps. She looked up at Celdorn, eyes wild with fear.
“Braiden!” Celdorn called.
The healer hurried over, pushing past a frantic Sasha. He knelt in front of Elena and held her chin. “Y-you need to c-calm your b-breathing, Elena. S-slow and d-deep, like this.” He breathed with her. “I-I know it feels like you c-can’t get air, but that’s your f-fear.”