The King's Scrolls

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The King's Scrolls Page 24

by Jaye L. Knight


  She, Kaden, and Jace tore off into the trees without looking back. Please don’t let them come after us! Doom spread throughout her entire body with the rush of adrenaline. Of all people for them to come across, why had it been her brother? She pumped her legs as hard as she could to match stride with Kaden and Jace. Something pounded like hooves, but she wasn’t sure if it was horses or the blood in her head.

  “Please!” she gasped out.

  The wet ground slipped and oozed beneath her. In a breath-snatching moment, she lost her balance and stumbled, but managed to keep running. Still, it slowed her pace, and that pounding grew louder. She didn’t dare look back, but the sense of something near sent a crawling sensation up her back. Begging for speed and endurance, she pushed her body harder.

  The ties of her cloak yanked against her throat. She screamed, but the ties closed off her windpipe. Jerking to a halt, she fell back against the hard muscles of a horse’s shoulder. Her fingers flew to her throat and clawed at the ties to loosen them. A strong arm wrapped around her, and then another. Her throat opened up, and she cried out as she fought to tear herself away from her captor. Just ahead, Kaden and Jace skidded to a halt and yanked out their swords as they spun around. Kyrin squirmed with all her might as the two of them rushed to her aid, but they stopped when sharp metal pressed against the underside of Kyrin’s chin. She froze.

  “Everyone, stop!” Marcus’s voice rang out from somewhere behind Kyrin. Her captor turned just enough for Kyrin to see her brother.

  “Marcus, please,” she cried. “Please, let us go.”

  The blade pressed harder to her throat. She sucked in her breath.

  “Easy, Scerle,” Marcus told the man.

  “They need to drop their weapons.” Scerle’s voice was gravelly and unpleasant, and his bad breath reached Kyrin’s nose even facing away from him. She gritted her teeth.

  “Release her, Marcus.” Kaden sent their brother a demanding glare.

  A fighting light had also begun to grow in Jace’s eyes as he stared at Kyrin’s captor, as if calculating just what it would take to get her away from him. If only the man knew what he would be up against if Jace did find a way to reach him without endangering Kyrin.

  Marcus raised his hands in a calming gesture. “Just lower your weapons and we’ll talk.”

  But Kaden wouldn’t have any of it. “Not until you tell your man to let my sister go.”

  A slight wince crossed Marcus’s face, perhaps at Kaden’s use of ‘my sister’ instead of ‘our’. He gave his men a hesitant glance. That’s when Kyrin noticed Liam. He, too, had dismounted and come up behind Marcus.

  Kyrin said his name in desperation.

  He seemed to share her dismay and stepped up quickly to face their brother. “Marcus, she’s our sister.”

  “We’re not here to cause trouble. We came to visit Father’s grave.” Kyrin’s voice cracked at the end, and tears momentarily blurred her eyes, but not so much that she missed the pain that flooded Marcus’s.

  “Captain,” Scerle snapped. “Family or not, they’re traitors to the emperor. They must be brought in. To release them would be treason.”

  Marcus’s jaw went taut, his face etched in turmoil.

  Kaden took an angry step forward. “We’ll be killed if you bring us in. Executed, just like Father. Is that what you want?”

  All eyes locked on Marcus. The war on his face was almost painful to witness as he stood in indecision. Please, Kyrin both prayed and mentally urged him. Don’t do this.

  Scerle must have detected the struggle and decided they’d waited long enough. “Drop your weapons!” His knife pressed harder into Kyrin’s throat, cutting through the first layers of skin.

  Panic flared. She grasped at the man’s wrist and hardly dared to breathe.

  “Marcus!” Kaden shouted. “You tell him to let her go!”

  Scerle matched his volume. “Put down your weapons!”

  “Let her go!”

  Kyrin squeezed her eyes shut as a warm drop of blood oozed down her neck and the men shouted back and forth. Oh, Elôm, please help! Any moment she could be dead. The pressure of the blade grew.

  “Drop your weapons!”

  Marcus’s voice rose above the others, and Kyrin’s eyes popped open. Her eldest brother stared at Kaden. The indecision had faded, replaced by a tortured, yet steely resolve.

  “Both of you, put them down,” he forced out every word, “if you want her to live.”

  Kaden looked ready to fight him on the spot, while Liam gaped in open horror. How could their brother do this to them?

  “Do it,” Scerle snapped, “or she dies right now.”

  Kaden’s sword lowered a couple of inches, though his tight grip on the hilt whitened his knuckles. No, this couldn’t happen. Kyrin’s heart battered her ribs. All three of them would die if Kaden and Jace surrendered. Fear ripped through her every nerve, but she knew what she had to do.

  “Don’t do it!” she cried out. “Run! Save yourselves! Please!”

  The knife went deeper, and she couldn’t hold back a whimper. Elôm, save me!

  “Three seconds and she dies,” Scerle growled, and Kyrin believed it. If she wanted Kaden and Jace to live, she had only a brief few moments before she would join her father in Elôm’s presence.

  She locked eyes with Kaden, begging him to run, while she mentally ticked off the seconds. She’d just about counted to three and tensed for the moment the blade would cut her throat, when Kaden threw down his sword. Jace’s hit the ground at the same time. A huge breath trapped in Kyrin’s lungs rushed out, but relief was fleeting. They’d only postponed her death and added theirs to it.

  The other soldiers rushed in to collect Kaden and Jace’s weapons. Only when the two of them were tightly bound did Scerle take the dagger from Kyrin’s throat. They seized her weapons too, and a soldier approached with a length of rope, but Marcus took it from him. He walked up to Kyrin without meeting her eyes.

  “Give me your hands.”

  Choking back tears, Kyrin raised her wrists, and he tied the rope around them snuggly, but not cruelly tight. All the while, he avoided her gaze.

  “Marcus,” she murmured.

  Finally, he did look up, and she read the deep regret and uncertainty in his eyes. This tore him apart inside and gave her the hope to try one more time.

  “Please, don’t do this.” Her tears pooled in a desperate, heart-aching plea.

  He almost broke, yet the dedication which bound him so completely to his duties took over. Tying off the knot, he turned to give orders, though his voice was rough. “Mount up. We’re heading back to the fort.”

  He tugged lightly on the rope, and Kyrin trailed after him on the way to his horse. They passed Liam who stood dumbly. Kyrin looked up at him, and they traded a helpless look. He was as much a prisoner of the circumstances as they were.

  Kyrin looked back to find Kaden and Jace. The soldiers had tied the two of them behind their horses. Kaden was sizing up his guard, as if contemplating taking him out right there. Kyrin swallowed and prayed he wouldn’t do anything foolish that would get him killed before they even reached the fort. He glanced at her, and she sent him another pleading look.

  When they came to Marcus’s horse, he mounted and reached down to pull her up with him. But she backed away as a deep hurt settled in her chest and she began to share some of Kaden’s anger. Marcus was their older brother. He should have been looking out for them, not delivering them to certain death.

  “I’ll walk.”

  Marcus sighed and took up the reins. He still held Kyrin’s rope in his hand, but did not tie it to his saddle like the others. Without a word, he nudged his horse and led the way back to the road. Kyrin walked with him.

  She hung her head. Why was everything going wrong? What more could possibly happen? First their father was killed, and now they faced the same fate. I don’t understand. All she’d wanted was a chance to rescue her brother and have one last goodbye with her fat
her. Had it been too much to ask for? A tear rolled down her cheek, but she brushed it against her shoulder. Help me be strong, Lord, whatever happens.

  The journey west to the fort stretched out in silence. After the first couple of miles, Kyrin’s legs burned. It wasn’t easy keeping pace with the horse, but Marcus helped by avoiding the worst mud and allowing slack in the rope. Kaden and Jace, however, weren’t so fortunate. The other soldiers cared little where they led their captives.

  There came a grunt, followed by a splash, and Kyrin looked back. Kaden had fallen to his knees in the middle of a puddle, and the soldier didn’t show any sign of slowing. Kyrin jerked her rope to get to him before the soldier could drag him along like an old carcass, but Marcus immediately called the group to a halt.

  “Let him up,” he ordered.

  Still, Kaden glared at him as he moved to rise. Liam came alongside him, leaning down to hook his hand under his brother’s arm and pull him up. Once Kaden was on his feet again, they moved on. Liam remained at his side.

  Stumbling after Marcus, Kyrin looked back once more. This time her eyes met Jace’s. In them rested the same grim determination she’d seen when they’d faced the ryriks. His one thought would be to find some way to get her out of this, and that shot fear straight into her core. He wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice himself to accomplish it.

  Elôm, please, save us. All of us. She continued to pray until she looked up some time later, and her eyes caught on the hill in the distance. Her throat swelled and sucked the moisture from her mouth. The might and military power of Fort Rivor loomed ahead.

  Kyrin took in the sight of the hundreds, thousands of tents and soldiers with a shudder. How could they hope to escape this? Even if their friends came looking for them, and somehow discovered they’d been captured, not even the dragons could change these circumstances. And would they even survive for three days?

  At the entrance to the fort, the men dismounted, and Marcus guided Kyrin to stand with Kaden and Jace. Again, he would not look her in the eyes.

  “Guard them,” he ordered his men and strode inside.

  The group stood in silence with the sounds of camp as a backdrop. Even so, Kyrin could hear each hard breath Kaden took. She glanced up at him. His jaw muscles ticked as he ground his teeth together and glared furiously at the door Marcus had entered. Kyrin hung her head, more hurt than angry now. They should be helping one another, encouraging each other, while sharing the pain of losing their father. It shouldn’t be like this.

  She looked up again and this time focused on Liam. His eyes were cast down, but she noticed how red they were. He must have sensed her watching and looked up. She tried to give him a smile, but it fell short. The pain was too great. Regrets and remorse passed between them. If only she could speak to him privately. There was so much he needed to know.

  Approaching footsteps pulled Kyrin’s attention back to the entrance of the fort. Their grandfather appeared, and a sick knot coiled in her stomach. Beside her, Kaden drew himself up taller and straighter in a stance of defiance she hadn’t seen in some time. Kyrin swallowed hard. Even under the best circumstances, interaction with their grandfather never ended well.

  He marched toward them with the purposeful, intimidating strides of a warrior prepared to destroy any enemy in his path—whether that enemy was stranger or family. No love or compassion softened his face. Kyrin’s insides shrank, but she stood firm beside Kaden.

  Marcus walked with the General, his expression set, but it didn’t completely mask the heartsickness in his eyes. However, it was too late for him to reconsider now.

  Their grandfather’s cold gaze swept each of them. “Well, now, isn’t this fortunate?”

  Kyrin peeked over at Kaden and Jace. None of them said a word, though it was a wonder Kaden held his tongue.

  The General’s attention focused on his grandchildren. “I hear you two have been busy furthering your treason.”

  Kaden snorted. “More like saving people from the emperor’s tyranny.”

  The General looked imperiously at him. “Is that so?”

  Kyrin shivered at his cool, calm composure. It was even worse than his anger. It meant he was in control.

  His eyes shifted, and he stepped down to Jace, his rigid stance accentuating the two inches he had on him. It was probably one of the first times in his adult life that Jace had to look up at anyone. Kyrin’s nerves prickled with unease. She and Kaden were used to their grandfather’s ways, and it was because of them that they were here in the first place. Jace had nothing to do with it, and she wanted her grandfather to stay away from him. But, despite the situation, Jace held the General’s critical gaze without wavering.

  “So this must be one of the rebels you’ve thrown in with. Are you so desperate for numbers you’ll even tolerate the company of ryrik animals?”

  Kyrin’s fingers fisted, and her voice trembled in the effort to control the rising disgust for this man who was her grandfather. “He’s not a ryrik.”

  “No?” The General’s tone dripped with sarcasm and condescension. “You may think me many things, Kyrin, but I’m not blind.”

  Something in the way he said her name—as if she were some silly child—infuriated her even more, and she glared at him. “He’s only half ryrik.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  Kyrin strained against the ropes that dug into her wrists. How dare he? However, Jace surprised her again by showing no reaction to the hateful words.

  The General’s attention returned to him. “Tell me, half-ryrik, are you a follower of the Elôm myth as well?”

  Calm and sure, Jace answered, “I believe in Elôm, the true God of Ilyon.”

  The General smirked. “It’s just as well you believe the lies when you have no soul for it to matter.”

  Heartless! Tears stung Kyrin’s eyes at the cruel words, but Jace just shrugged.

  “Perhaps I don’t, but it doesn’t make Elôm any less real.”

  For the first time, anger crept into the General’s eyes. “And it doesn’t make you any less guilty of treason.” He spun on his heel to face Marcus. “Lock them up.”

  Kyrin rested against the cold stone wall of their dim cell, her elbows propped on her knees and head bowed. All was quiet. After launching into a tirade about their grandfather and Marcus, Kaden had finally exhausted himself, and none of them had spoken since.

  But Kyrin hadn’t ceased praying for a miracle and for strength. She was struggling. Fear, doubt, and despair crowded her mind. Her thoughts wandered back to her imprisonment in Valcré. It had been terrifying, but she’d been confident in her faith, and Elôm had filled her with strength far beyond herself. She longed for that strength now but, for some reason, things seemed different. She felt weaker, more uncertain. The loss of her father had shaken her and taken a heavy toll. She couldn’t lose anyone else.

  Her throat hurting with held back tears, she looked at Kaden and Jace—the two people in this world she was closest to. It wasn’t only her life hanging in the balance this time, but theirs, too, and that was the most frightening of all. The very thought of losing even one of them left her resolve in shreds. I can’t do it, Elôm. I just can’t. She pressed her palms to her eyes to hold back the tears.

  However, her fear couldn’t change the circumstances. Whatever happened to them would occur without her consent. The only choice left was to accept it as Elôm’s will and trust Him to provide her the ability to endure it.

  This made itself painfully clear by the echo of footsteps. The three of them rose to wait for the soldiers to enter the cellblock. Kyrin cried out to Elôm, her breaths choppy and shallow. Kaden rested his hand on her shoulder, and she looked at him.

  “It’ll be all right,” he told her.

  It was more a foolish hope than solid belief, but it did encourage her.

  Marcus led the group that arrived at the cell. He unlocked the door and swung it open. Now that he’d had time to shore up his resolve, he almost seemed a strang
er. Kyrin hated to see him this way. This wasn’t the kind, familiar Marcus—this was the controlled Marcus, manipulated by the General, and the emperor, and his own misguided beliefs.

  The soldiers entered and secured heavy shackles to their wrists. Kyrin shivered when the cold metal pressed into her skin. It left such a helpless feeling. She tried to look at Marcus as they brought her out, but he avoided her eyes and moved to the head of the group, where he led them through the fort. Once outside, they turned to walk deeper into the surrounding camp. The soldiers eyed them as they passed—some with looks of disgust and others with no more than a passing interest. Kyrin looked around for an answer as to why they’d left the fort. Did their grandfather intend to execute them right away? Her knees trembled. Surely it wouldn’t happen so quickly.

  They didn’t have to go far before they came to a muddy, open area with a tall post at the center. The General waited there with a large gathering of soldiers. Kyrin gulped, a horrible sensation twisting her insides.

  Trudging through the mud, they came to stand in front of him. A moment of tense silence followed, but the General’s booming voice shattered it.

  “Treason is one of the most detestable of crimes. It shall never be tolerated in any form. Not here, not anywhere. The fitting punishment for such crimes is death.”

  He motioned, and one of the soldiers shoved Jace forward. Kyrin’s heart almost died in her chest. No! She stepped forward, but Marcus grabbed her arm and held her back. She tugged against him, her eyes still riveted to Jace. Elôm, please! Her heart pounded back into motion with solid, heavy thumps.

  Jace squared his shoulders as he faced the General, who peered at him as if he were nothing more than scum.

  “You have openly flaunted your treasonous beliefs against the emperor and the gods. For such an offense, you shall be transported to Valcré for execution, but first, I intend to make you an example so that no man here doubts the gravity of these charges.”

  The General turned and accepted something from one of his men. Cold flushed through Kyrin’s system.

 

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