Blood Legacy: Heir to the Throne (25 page)

Shouts and the sound of running feet approached from one direction, so Ryan went the other way. She sprinted down the corridor, then dodged right into a passageway. It was reasonable to suspect the entire compound was under surveillance, so Ryan did not believe she could hide. She could only run and fight, hoping she could get some sense of orientation to escape.

She sprinted around another corner and came face-to-face with a group of sentries looking for her. She was clearly outnumbered, but the guards were frozen in place, their eyes on the sword in her hand.

Ryan smiled, hearing Kusunoki’s words in her head.

When too weak to defend, attack.

Ryan charged the group of men, the blade spinning and arcing through flesh and bone. She felt a strong grip on her shoulder and quickly dropped to her knee, taking the man’s legs off at the thighs. She knew if they got a hold of her and were able to wrest the sword from her grasp, she would be lost.

The toll she was taking on them was too great, however, and the remainder of the group turned and fled. Ryan quickly dodged down another passageway, fully aware she had no idea where she was going. She saw a great arch ahead of her, opening onto something that looked like a terrace. And she could see daylight. She sprinted toward the opening.

Ryan broke into the daylight, and stopped in her tracks. She walked very slowly to the banister of what was indeed a great open terrace. She leaned over the banister, looking down, then stared around her in wonder and despair.

She was definitely in the mountains, and the terrace she was standing was cut from the face of the rock. What inspired both the awe and despair, however, was the fact that the terrace she was standing on was just one of hundreds. She looked across the ravine, and saw men rushing about on the cliffs, moving from terrace to terrace via the elaborate series of stairways connecting the decks.

She looked down again. The ground was a thousand feet below, and the great courtyard in the canyon was filled with activity, no doubt inspired by her escape. Ryan shook her head. The fortress was a marvel of construction, surpassing even the great pyramids in its size and engineering. She looked upward. The edifices cut into the cliffs continued into the clouds.

She turned on her heel, starting back into the citadel. She had been wrong about many things, most importantly, the number of men Madelyn had at her disposal. She had guessed a few dozen, but now knew there were hundreds, if not thousands.

Ryan stopped for a few moments, staring at the blood-stained sword in her hand. She would probably be dead very soon. But she would take as many of them with her as possible.

Harrian stepped over the bodies strewn about the corridor, his jaw clenched. One of his officers approached to report, snapping to attention.

“Where is she now?” Harrian demanded.

“Sixteenth level, outer perimeter. There is a cohort moving to intercept her.”

Harrian glanced at the dismembered corpses. “Tell them to back off for the moment, until weapons can be retrieved from the armory.”

The officer was stunned. “But our orders were–”

Harrian whirled on him. “I know what the orders were. But the prisoner is obviously capable of far more than we expected, and she will continue this slaughter unless we meet her with sufficient force.”

The officer glanced down at the dead around him. “This does not seem possible.”

“No,” Harrian said in disgust, “it does not. And I will pay for that underestimation. Speaking of which,” he said, unable to disguise the dread in his voice, “where is Madelyn?”

“She is in her inner sanctuary,” the officer replied.

This brought slight relief to Harrian. “Then she may not be aware of what has happened.”

“No,” the officer agreed, “she may not.”

This brought new urgency to Harrian. “Then distribute the weapons and let’s find the girl.”

Ryan moved stealthily down the hallway. It seemed as if the initial pursuit had cooled somewhat and the forces were regrouping. She had managed to make it down two levels of the vast fortress, uncertain if that put her significantly closer to the ground or to an exit. She was also not certain what surveillance devices she might be tripping or if she was simply being monitored the entire time. It did not matter.

She heard voices around the next corner and peered around the rock wall. Two of the uniformed guards were blocking the hallway. Ryan debated an all-out charge, but then saw something that gave her pause.

Both men were now armed with the same type of sword she carried. She glanced down at the weapon in her hand. Well, the odds had been good for awhile.

The two guards were engaged in animated conversation which stopped abruptly when Ryan walked around the corner and approached them. They were stunned at her boldness, and for a moment, neither did anything.

“Stop where you are!” one finally commanded, raising his sword. The other raised his as well.

Ryan obligingly came to a halt, her sword hanging loosely from her hand.

“Drop the weapon!” the guard ordered.

Ryan obediently set the sword down, its hilt near the heel of her right foot.

Both guards were surprised at the servility of the prisoner, especially given reports of the preceding rampage. Apparently the reports had been exaggerated, and this prisoner was not nearly so brave when faced with armed opponents. Nonetheless, they approached her cautiously.

Not cautiously enough, however. As soon as one guard was in range, Ryan stomped her heel on the hilt of the sword, flipping the blade upward. She snatched it from the air and swung it one smooth motion, decapitating the first guard before he could raise his sword in defense. The second blow landed blade-to-blade, however, as the second guard was able to react.

The guard attacked, and Ryan was again astonished at the strength of these men. She knew that if he was able to fully engage her blade, she would lose this fight and in all probability lose her life. As she parried the blows, the imbalance in strength reminded her of when she fought with Victor as child. The only difference was that this was not a training exercise, and this man certainly was not curbing his blows.

Still, Ryan was able to contend through speed and skill alone, greatly surprising the guard. Although he was able to slash through her defenses, she never seemed to be there when he was actually landing a blow. Several came dangerously close to Ryan, and she felt something she had not felt since being human.

It was the first time in centuries she was in a battle where she knew that she could die. And she found it exhilarating.

The guard was growing angry that he could not subdue the girl, and even more so at her seemingly reckless attitude. She actually seemed to be enjoying herself. He moved to end the conflict, preparing for the killing blow, but instead found himself impaled on the end of Ryan’s sword. He stared down at the blade protruding from his chest in disbelief. Ryan yanked the sword from him and his body crumpled to the ground.

She glanced up, surprised to see that there were witnesses to their battle. A group of guards stood in the hallway, incredulity on their faces. They were so certain their captain would have defeated the girl, none had moved to help him. Now they raised their swords to attack.

Ryan slipped her blade beneath the fallen guard’s weapon, flipping it upward into her left hand. With a great heave, she sent it end-over-end down the hallway into the group of guards, satisfied to hear a thunk and a scream as one went down. She turned the other way and sprinted down the corridor.

She made it down another staircase, still uncertain what level she was on. As most of the guards she saw now were armed, she avoided them, relying on her speed and the shadows. She crouched behind a short wall as a cohort ran by her, trying to decide what to do next. She pressed against the rock wall behind her, sliding a short distance to the corner so she could peer around into the next passageway.

It was quiet and it appeared to be empty. There also appeared to be another terrace at the end of it, and she might be close enough to the ground to jump without serious injury. If she could get out of this maze of corridors and to the courtyard below, she might be able to disappear into the surrounding mountains.

Ryan had settled on this course of action and was preparing to slip around the corner when she felt a presence behind her. With lightning speed, she spun around to strike a killing blow at whatever stalked her.

Instead, her sword was stopped abruptly in mid-swing. She was lifted bodily from the ground and slammed backward into the wall so hard it felt as if her spine was crushed.

Madelyn stared at her with amusement, easily holding her off the ground. Ryan turned to the sword that Madelyn had caught in the palm of her hand. The deadly blade had not even broken her skin. Ryan felt utter despair as Madelyn grasped the blade and yanked it from Ryan’s hand, tossing it aside as if it were a toy. Ryan stared at the weapon on the ground, knowing that all hope was lost.

Madelyn seemed to sense the hopelessness and it pleased her. She leaned closer to Ryan, pressing her fully against the wall.

“And where exactly did you think you were going?” Madelyn asked.

Ryan braced for the bite but even so could not anticipate the intense pain. She struggled impotently in Madelyn’s iron embrace, but only for a few seconds as the paralysis began to seep into her system. Everything in her body below the bite went limp, and she struggled to hold her head upright. Even that was difficult, and she was forced to lay her head against Madelyn’s shoulder, a humiliatingly affectionate gesture.

“That’s better,” Madelyn said. She lifted Ryan into her arms, holding her as one would hold a small child, and again the mocking affectionate undertone was demoralizing for Ryan.

Two doors materialized in the rock wall next to them, and the doors slid open, revealing a hidden lift. Madelyn stepped into the elevator as Harrian and a cohort of guards rushed around the corner.

Harrian and the guards stopped hurriedly. Harrian was surprised, relieved, and terrified at the sight of Madelyn holding the girl. He bowed low.

“My lady, I beg your forgiveness.”

“I,” Madelyn said coldly, “am not to be disturbed.”

Harrian and the guards went to their knees, and he did not raise his head until the doors whispered closed.

Ryan could not feel the lift move, so smoothly did it operate, but she had the sensation they were moving upward for a long time. She opened her eyes, then regretted doing so since Madelyn was staring down at her.

“You seem to have difficulty grasping this concept of being a prisoner,” Madelyn said.

Ryan maintained an insubordinate silence.

“I shall have to try harder to educate you,” Madelyn said.

The doors whispered open and Ryan turned her head slightly to get a glance at the room. They certainly were not in her prison cell.

The chamber was vast, with high arched ceilings and various sunken areas and half-walls that delineated space without enclosing it. There was furniture spread about the areas, some of it recognizable as couches, chairs, or beds, others less recognizable as anything functional, at least to Ryan. Perhaps it was artwork, although it certainly was not to her taste. The room had a slight reddish cast to it, and Ryan noted it was because the walls themselves were made with rock that had the same reddish hue.

Ryan realized these must be Madelyn’s personal chambers, a realization that was greatly disturbing to her. She preferred her prison cell, and certainly preferred her rock slab to the soft divan Madelyn laid her down upon. She tried to move away from the woman when Madelyn laid down beside her, but the paralysis was near-complete. Ryan could barely flex her wrist.

Madelyn’s feeding generally began quickly, without prelude, but apparently today she wished to torture Ryan more than just physically.

“So did you enjoy your little jaunt about the citadel?” Madelyn asked, toying with Ryan’s hair.

“Yes,” Ryan said, wondering how many she had managed to kill, “I did.”

“Hmm,” Madelyn said, leaning down to examine the bruise on Ryan’s neck. Ryan braced herself as Madelyn again bit her, taking a long drink from the wound she reopened. It was painful, but not unbearably so as the first one had been.

Madelyn leaned back. “I must say, I am impressed with your persistence. Most would have given up hope long ago.”

Ryan gazed up at her. “I do not need hope to keep fighting.”

Madelyn leaned down to take some more blood, and it was more uncomfortable this time than painful. Ryan wondered if Madelyn was capable of moderating the amount of pain she inflicted, and decided to experiment to find out.