“I am fine. And that is exactly what you will tell the Consul.” Oh, Thade would be frantic if he was allowed to know anything about what had transpired during the short minutes at that party. She couldn’t let him find out. For his own sake. She couldn’t bear to think of causing him any more worry than she already had. “It was most likely a mere show for the sake of his guests. Once they leave and he has had time to think on things, I will be released from this cell. I trust that at least. He cannot flaunt me as his slave if I am hidden away like this.”
Zander was quiet. She could sense his uncertainty at how to react to her request. “Under any other circumstances, I would fight with you, but these aren’t the best conditions for me to even think of winning, so I will back down… but that doesn’t mean I won’t continue to work tirelessly at finding a way to get you free of this ridiculous slavery.”
“You are going to get yourself caught if you stay here much longer.”
The thought hit her with a frightening truth. Kael had assured her that he would return. She trusted he would do everything in his power to step away from Mikel’s attention at the first opportunity to present itself. If he were to find Zander here with her…
“Maeri will distract anyone at the door as long as she can.” Maeri. Oh, for the love of all that was holy, Maeri had seen it all? The humiliation grew by the minute with every familiar face she became aware of having witnessed the terrible scene. “Before we entered the party, we were inspecting the stone fence out front. There are a few places where the mortar has broken and chipped away which would be large enough to fit a piece of parchment while yet small enough to prevent notice. If you are able to write, find a way to fit the letters in one of those. Maeri will be checking every so often in hopes of some word from you.”
“I will do what I can.”
There was nothing more she could promise him. They had learned all too well that no plans could be laid out with any hope of keeping them. Everything was out of their control and completely in the hands of their enemies at this point. They would have to work under Mikel’s rules and simply pray that they were able to complete the task required of them.
“Leyna, I am almost positive your nose is broken. You need a doctor –”
“What I need is for you to stop calling me that name and to get yourself safely back to the party before anyone finds you here and blows both of our covers,” she sighed, lifting her head away from Zander’s chest slowly. It took too much effort to move. All she wanted to do was lie down on the cold floor and sleep in hopes of waking the next morning to find none of it to have happened. “I will find a way to write. I cannot promise exactly when, but have Maeri be on watch for my letters.”
“I’m not leaving here until you at least let me take a look at your nose. If it doesn’t get set, there will be a very unsightly notch there for the rest of your life.
Zander was right. She couldn’t rely on Kael to convince them to send anyone to tend her injury. Mikel called the shots, and in the short time she’d been in his presence, it was obvious he wasn’t the type to show pity on a mere slave. If Zander was going to let her stay without further argument, the least she could do was humor him. “Fine. But make it quick, please. I don’t want you to get caught down here with me.”
As if afraid she might change her mind, Zander wasted no time in reaching through the bars to pinch his fingertips against the sides of her nose. The pressure of his touch was insufferable. A soft moan escaped her lips, struggling to hold back her agonized cries. She couldn’t risk drawing more attention to them than they already had. The other slaves were likely already aware of Zander’s intrusion, their curious eyes peering through the dim light to see what was creating the stir.
With a sickening crunch Zander adjusted the bone, Leyna’s face jerking away from Zander’s hands, her head dizzy from the new wave of pain washing over her. Some of the discomfort seemed to be alleviated, though the injury itself continued to throb. Through her tear-filled eyes she could hear Zander speaking, blinking to try and focus on the image of him once again.
“Please, let me take you out of here –”
“No!” It came out more forceful than she intended, but there was no way to take it back. She needed to be forceful with him or he wouldn’t back down. Her eyes lingered on him, her adamant response hanging heavily on the air between them in the silence.
Nodding his head, Zander rose back to his feet, gripping his jacket tightly in his hands. He held out his arms to inspect the blood soaked through his shirt where her head had been, staining the white fabric all the way down to his belt. Closing his eyes, it was obvious he was struggling against his conscience, wanting to tell her she had no choice but to let him take her away. She wouldn’t give in to it, no matter how much he insisted.
He must have come to the same conclusion. His eyes opened once again, giving another slight nod as if to reaffirm his decision. Sliding his arms into his jacket, he carefully did up the buttons to conceal the blood-soaked shirt underneath. “If you ever decide that you want out, we will find a way to make it happen. The Consul has made it very clear that this mission will be cast aside at the first sign of your safety being jeopardized. There will always be other means of gathering information if this option is lost, but your life cannot be replaced if they take it from you. That can’t be allowed to happen.”
“It will not,” Leyna replied quietly. Her strength was leaving her quickly. She lacked the will to fight with him about her safety. It was best to just acknowledge what he was saying without argument for the sake of his comfort – as well as the Consul’s – in believing she would call for help if she were in trouble. Deep down, she knew if it came down to a choice between losing the mission, or losing her life, she would die for the cause. What else was there for her in this world? To die for her people and for her Queen was the most honorable end she could ever ask for. It only pained her to think of what her death would do to the Consul.
Unable to stand the sight of her any longer, Zander turned away, the sound of his cautious steps echoing lightly through the narrow hall until it disappeared around the stairs. She’d done everything she could to convince him that she would be fine. It was hard enough to do while looking the way she did. Inside, she was surprised that she’d managed to succeed.
Crawling back to the center of the floor, she laid the side of her face against the cold stone, exhaling in both relief and pain at the sensation which filled her head. The chill was refreshing against the wound, while the pressure of the hard surface sent waves of discomfort through her senses. The bleeding was finally starting to ease. It was hard to imagine there to be much more blood for her body to spill out.
The lightheadedness was uncomfortable, adding to the pounding headache that had already begun to throb in her temples. Her body longed for sleep, her muscles aching from exhaustion, among everything else. There would be time to think about food and water after she’d slept. Until her head was able to clear of its fog, she wouldn’t be able to focus on anything, preventing her from keeping her mind perceptive to any details which might benefit their cause. Sleep was already taking over. She felt detached from everything around her, the pain seeming distant as she released the last remaining ties to consciousness she clung to, giving in to the darkness that surrounded her.
Her wrists hurt. The shackles restraining her had been tightened to a painful degree, pressing hard against her slender bones. She didn’t know how much time had passed for her down in that dark cellar. After she’d lost consciousness, the only memory she had was opening her eyes to find a strange man placing the shackles over her arms, only to leave her again almost immediately. She’d been too tired to care at the time. Sleep had taken her back instantly.
Water was brought once every so often. The length of time between each mug set through the bars for those in the cells felt long enough to be a day, but without any windows to reveal the light from the sun, it was impossible to tell for sure. Food came less frequently.
Sometimes with every other cup of water, and others longer than that. It was served whenever someone remembered them down there, hidden away from view of everyone and everything that went on in the house.
What a waste she was to her people, if she did not change her situation soon. How could it be that Mikel would be given his enemy as a slave and not want to utilize her in a more gloating fashion? To show her off to his friends when they visited while she cleaned his floors or shined his shoes. There had to be some reason which was preventing him from doing so. The display he’d given at his party was enough to tell her that he desired to treat her like a trophy. In his own way.
Kael had yet to return to her, unless he visited while she was asleep, which she couldn’t discount as being impossible. It felt as though she did nothing but sleep these days. Sleep and stare off into the distance, lost in her own thoughts. She’d had plenty of time to put her head into focus.
She’d come to terms with the current path her life had taken. Acceptance was the only thing she could really do, at risk of going insane from the fear and anxiety of what might become of her. If she spent all her time dreading the pain and torture they might force her to endure, she would lose her mind in the silence of her prison. It was better to remind herself that she was above it all, and that she would have to face it with the courage of a soldier, the way she had when she was still a child, facing her enemies on the battlefield. There was always a chance even then of being taken captive by the Sanarik, or the Namiren. Back then she’d already accepted that possibility. This was no different, in the grand scheme of things.
Someone was approaching. Was it time for water already? Perhaps they felt generous and thought to bring an extra glass for her dried up mouth. The steps made no stops along the hall at the other cells. No water, then. Another prisoner? They were getting closer.
Lifting her head, she could see Kael staring at her through the bars. He carried some kind of torch in his hand, illuminating his face eerily in the flickering light. Her eyes flinched at the brightness, having grown so accustomed to the dim cellar, the only light there provided by two lonely sconces placed along the hall.
He turned a key in the lock. He was coming inside to her. The thought caused her heart to jump nervously. She still was uncertain of why his presence made her feel that way. It was an awkward sensation, but pleasant, most times. It distracted her from the pangs of hunger in her stomach with the fluttering feeling which filled her.
She watched him closely. He had something else in his hands that she hadn’t noticed before. A small bucket of some kind. It must have been at his feet when he was unlocking the door. He carried it inside now, placing it on the hard stone next to Leyna’s trembling form. She sat there, completely still, as he hung the torch against the wall, finding the remains of an old sconce to hold it in place and light the entire cell with its soft glow.
“I am sorry it took me so long,” he spoke gently. His hands lightly touched her face, turning her head from side to side to examine her nose. They were warm in comparison to the chill of that place. She welcomed the feeling, only wishing that he would hold her against him to take the cold away from the rest of her body. Carefully he removed the shackles from around her wrists, letting them fall to the floor with a heavy thud. “Things have been confusing around here lately, but I managed to speak with Mikel about you. He is going to allow you to move into the servants’ quarters in the back of the house. That will be a step up from this place, at the very least, until I can continue to negotiate your freedom with him.”
Could it be? She was to be released from this horrible place? She wanted to hug him. But that wouldn’t be appropriate. Not that she had the energy to move in such a way, anyway. “How long have I been down here?” Her voice was scratchy. She’d had no reason to use it while sitting by herself. She couldn’t remember the last time she had spoken to someone. Zander, whenever he had been to visit. It felt so long ago.
“Almost two weeks.” The sadness was evident in his tone at the length of time he’d been forced to leave her there. Two weeks. She had to wonder if Maeri was still in Dalonshire, waiting for her letters that had yet to come. If she were able to write now, would her words still reach the Consul to tell him that she was safe? That he need not worry about her?
Reaching his hand into the bucket, Kael pulled out a soft rag, wringing out the water that dripped from it. Carefully he wiped it along her face, cleaning the dried blood off her skin. She’d forgotten it was even there. The pain had subsided after a few days, dulling to a minor throb in her head until it disappeared altogether.
He started with the cloth around her chin, taking great care in making sure he cleaned it thoroughly before moving on to her mouth. His hands lingered there. They dabbed gently, the cool water feeling good against her dried lips. He stared at her with an expression she had very rarely seen a man use when looking at her. It reminded her of the way Thade had gazed at her the night in his study, after removing her cloak, as if she’d been somehow exposed to him in a way that she didn’t fully understand. As if he was seeing her for the first time.
“You have very elegant lips.”
She wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly at first. Elegant lips? Was he really saying that to her, or was she imagining things? “I… what?”
Shaking his head, Kael moved the cloth away from her mouth, rinsing it off in the bucket before lightly brushing against her cheeks, the sensitive skin there causing her to flinch away from his touch. “The bruising is still pretty bad, but the swelling has gone down, it looks like.”
“It is healing well. I suspected the bruising had begun to lessen also.”
“Lessen, yes. But I can still see it. Perhaps it is just the lighting,” he replied. Gently he tried to brush the cloth across her cheek again, moving in closer to her nose. Her body tensed at the discomfort, but she managed to hold herself still. It wouldn’t do her any good to keep pulling away from him while he was trying to help her. She would have to just deal with the pain for now.
Gritting her teeth, she tried not to make any sound to let her pain be known to Kael. He was being as cautious as he could. She could tell by the way he hesitated with every brush of the cloth against her skin. “There is a bath set specifically for use by the servants. I had it filled so you could wash before we get you into something clean to wear. After that, I will find what chore Mikel wishes you to begin with.”
A bath. Oh, it sounded wonderful. Even if the water was freezing, it would remove the filth from her that had built up while trapped in that moldy basement. She felt disgusting, hating the fact that Kael was seeing her in such a state. It was amazing he could bear sitting so close to her. Dirt was caked on every part of her skin, the natural oils from her hair matting it down against her head, along with the mixture of blood from where she’d been lying on the floor. Combing it would be next to impossible without tearing much of it out to rid the strands of the accumulated tangles.
Tossing the rag back in the bucket, Kael helped her to her feet, supporting the weight of her body against his own. She couldn’t remember having ever felt so weak. Her dress hung from her body, looser than it had been when she first arrived there. The lack of any kind of a diet had already begun to show, her arms like those of a skeleton’s wrapped around Kael’s back to hold her up. She’d always been a slender girl, but the definition of her muscles had dwindled away, leaving her looking starved and frail.
Kael left the torch behind where it hung on the wall, focusing his attention on helping her through the door. Her head was spinning from the exertion. She lacked the energy required to make this trip, and the stairs would be the most difficult thing of all. She would have to find a way up them herself, or else Kael would have no choice but to drag her along behind him down the narrow corridor.
The task was easier than she anticipated. Holding her out in front of him, Kael wrapped his arms around her thin waist, lifting her feet up from off the ground. It was effortless for him to do. He
was a strong man, and she was even lighter now than she’d been the day he carried her through the cellar door against her will.
Once at the top of the stairs, the corridor widened, allowing him to pick her up into his arms. Closing her eyes, she ignored the thick darkness of the hall, forcing the thought out of her mind until she heard the cellar door open in front of them, light spilling in from the outer halls.
His footsteps could be heard echoing through the empty passage. Leyna couldn’t detect any sign that would suggest someone else to be near them. All the way through the house, he carried her in silence, the plain walls of the kitchen rooms blurring together in Leyna’s vision.
Light. There was light. That was all that mattered to her. There was no scent of mold or stale air gagging her senses. Homemade bread was cooking somewhere, filling her nostrils with the smell. She was hungry. The pains in her stomach were returning, stronger than before, aching for a taste of the bread.
A young girl stood outside an open door, her head lowered respectfully at Kael’s approach. Her long brown hair was pulled back away from her face into a tight braid which hung down to her waist. The slant of her eyes was unlike anything Leyna had ever seen before. They angled down, giving her a constant expression of melancholy, their light golden color standing out against her dark skin. A crest of tiny bone-like lumps around the top of her forehead resembled that of the Namiren soldiers Leyna had fought against during the war. She appeared to be a mixed breed of some kind, though outside the Namiren blood she so clearly carried, it was impossible to decipher her heritage.
“Oriane, is the bath prepared?”
“Yes, sir,” the girl replied quickly, bobbing down into a short curtsy. “I have a dress set out for her as well…”
“Good, good.” Lowering Leyna back down to the ground, Kael transferred her weight from his own arms into those of the strange girl. “You will need to help her. I will have some food and water brought in for her from the kitchen. Once she is cleaned and fed, bring her to my quarters and I will have her orders then.”
The Myatheira Chronicles: The Vor'shai: From the Ashes (Volume 1) Page 29