Deck of Cards (26 page)

He froze in place
, unable to believe his ears. After a moment, he slowly turned back to face her. “What?” he asked cautiously.  “What did you say?”

Her hands were pressed together in front of her mouth, her chin resting on her thumbs.  She had done it twice
now, surely she could do it one more time. She concentrated with all of her might and tried again, “Caleb, I love you.”

He stood looking at her, the tears now streaming down both of their faces. In that moment he realized that nothing else mattered. It didn’t matter what her name was, who she had been before, what anyone else felt or thought. He loved her, too.

Katey stood paralyzed, waiting for his reaction. When he began to step back towards her, she knew. She knew he loved her, too.  She flung herself into his arms, their lips meeting. He kissed her passionately and uninhibitedly. Nothing, no one else mattered.

After a moment, he pulled his lips away from her.  “You said my name!” he said quietly but firmly. She nodded and he kissed her again. “You said Caleb.”  Again, she nodded and welcomed his lips back to hers. “Say it again,” he pleaded.

She smiled, biting her lip.  With a bit of concentration she whispered, “Caleb.”

He began to laugh with joy. Looking up at the sky he yelled, “She said my name!” She had his attention again, then, and he kissed her even more passionately. He lifted her slightly off of the ground and took a step backward, pulling her forward with his kiss. She followed.  Nuzzling his nose against her ear, he whispered, “Say the whole thing. Tell me again, tell me that you love me.”

“Mmm, I love you, Caleb,” she said quietly in to his neck, his sweet kisses covering her ear, her cheek, her jaw.

He brought his left hand up to cup her face. She slowly opened her eyes, to find him staring at her intently, his penetrating gaze holding her captive.  “I love you, too, Katherine.”
And then, his mouth was on hers again, and he was pulling her gently into his room and then into his bed.  For the first time in as long as she could remember, Katey had found her voice and by using it she had gained everything she had ever wanted.

      
                                    ***

Rose had been in the back of the carriage, terrified for her life, for days.  Now, as she approached Castle Graden, she did not know what to expect.  But she knew it would not be good. 

Night had fallen by the time she arrived and though she saw several guards standing near the entrance where the carriage came to a stop, she did not see Philip, nor did she see anyone who resembled King Leopold. She was hopeful that she would be able to spend at least one more night as Queen Katherine.  As the guards began to open the door, however, her dream was shattered as Philip came out of the castle door. He looked angry and she knew the sight of her would only enrage him more.  She needed to think of a plan quickly or else she was liable to find her head on the end of a lance.

“Where is she?” Philip demanded as he
clambered down the few steps to the walkway. He did not see her face at first, as she exited the carriage, just tussled red tassels of hair everywhere.  But even with that, he knew something was off.

She attempted to hide her face from him but he would not allow it.  As he approached the woman pretending to be Katey, he pulled off his glove and grabbed her harshly by the chin, forcing her hair out of her face and her eyes to meet his. “Oh, Bloody Hell!” he exclaimed, realizing it was
not his princess returned at all but that loud-mouthed whore from Castle Blackthorn.

The guards around the carriage were startled and confused. They jumped back out of the way as Philip began to kick everything in sight-the dirt, the carriage, a few of them, everyone except for the redheaded woman.

Finally, attempting to regain his composure, he beseeched, “What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were dead or long gone!”

Rose looked stunned. Though she knew Philip had grown weary of her the last few times they had slept together, she had no idea just how much he had grown to loath her.  “I’m so sorry, Your Majesty,” she began, attempting to weave her story as she went along. “It was King Caleb. He intended to trick Queen Nichole by returning me instead of her sister. He is an evil coward, Your Highness.”

Philip’s eyes were beginning to glow like two black coals in the fire.  “You mean to tell me, Caleb intentionally sent you to Nichole in Katherine’s place?”

“Yes,” she continued. “He has fallen in love with the princess and he wanted to keep her for himself.”

Though Philip detested Caleb, he knew there was no way he would do something so ignorant and stupid. All that would accomplish is drawing Nichole in to the fray against him and he could not afford an enemy so powerful as Placidia. No, Rose was telling her stories again. And he grew very weary of listening.

Yet, she continued.  In her mind, she had no choice but to press on. “Luckily, Your Majesty, I was able to infiltrate his castle. I can supply you with much information about the layout of Castle Caine, how to penetrate the forces, where the armies are being
staged.  We can work together to overthrow Caleb once and for all.”

Philip knew better. He had been trying to get a spy inside of Castle Caine for several years and was never successful.  Information never leaked from that fortress.  This was just
Rose attempting to win him over again. The disgust began to boil up inside of him. One hand on his hip, the other pushing against his forehead as if it might otherwise burst, he began to ponder what in the world he should do with this incessant harlot.

If Rose had stopped right then, perhaps her fate might have been different.  However, she was persistent.  She stepped closely to Philip, though not so close that others might not hear, and said, “Why don’t you take me to your bedchamber and, when I am finished pleasuring you, I will tell you all there is to know about Caleb’s castle.”

This was too much for Philip who had already made friends with a number of the servant girls at Graden.  Pushed too far, beyond his limit, his patience out of reserves, he was determined to stop this chatter once and for all. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you,” he said, looking into Rose’s eyes. She smiled, hopeful that her plan was working. “You’d love for me to invite you into my bed so that you can pretend that you are queen, hmm?” He was rubbing her cheek and as he continued to speak, his grip became more firm, his intent more rough. She stepped back, frightened.

“Well, Dear Rose,” he continued, “You may not be aware but I’m no longer a king. I have no kingdom, I have no castle, I have
nothing
,” as he spoke, he began to walk forward, forcing her back until she slammed into the carriage.  His hand still pressing against her face, her head resting awkwardly against the roof of the carriage, he continued. “But no one has dared remind me of all of that these past weeks, no not until you arrived, My Pet, and now that you are here, I have to ask myself, why?  Why have I put up with your senseless jabber for all of these years? So, you want to be my queen then?” he asked, his hand sliding from her cheek to her chin, his grip around her jaw.  She did not dare attempt to answer his question, just stood there paralyzed in fear. “I require a more silent partner,” he added, pulling his dagger from its sheath beneath his cloak. The brightly polished metal glinted in the faint starlight and Rose’s eyes widened in panic.  “Perhaps,” he said, increasing the force on her jaw, so that she could barely keep her mouth shut, “this might teach you a lesson about wagging your tongue in other people’s affairs!”

Philip was angry enough that he could have committed the horrific act of mutilation himself but the guards nearby were more than willing to assist.  He forced Rose’s mouth open, pulled out her tongue, and ended her ability to ever irritate him with useless babble again.

                                       ***

Nichole felt as if she was on a ride at a carnival. One moment, her sister was in grave danger, the next, she was perfectly fine.  James’s messenger had relieved the overwhelming distress she felt at the possibility of something horrendous happening to her baby sister. She felt fully responsible for putting Katey in the position to begin with. It was unclear to her exactly how Caleb had mistaken some other
redheaded girl for her sister for so long, but nevertheless, the mistake had saved Katey from falling back into the hands of Philip and the even nastier Leopold, and so she was glad that this bit of inanity had a ring of kismet to it.

Kenneth was at her side, “Should we tell the generals to stand down?” he asked, resting his hand son her shoulders.

Nichole had ridden out to oversee the preparation.  It had been a long time since Placidia had done battle with anyone but she knew her forces were strong and well trained. She had resolved long ago to always have an army prepared for battle, on the off-chance that another legion of boogey-men should appear in the night. “No,” she said turning to face him. “Whether or not Leopold was able to take Katey is irrelevant, the intention was still there.  If Leopold wants to play in the shadows, let us teach him a lesson.”

              
                         ***

The ride to Castle Graden has been uncomfortable. Most of it was spent on the back of another man’s horse, part of it he had been forced to walk, and then there was the occasional dragging, which wasn’t necessary but his assailants thought that it was fun.  By the time Matthew reached Leo
pold’s layer, he was almost happy to have arrived. Almost. He had no idea exactly what he was in for but he was assured it wouldn’t be pleasant.

Leo wanted to establish very quickly that Matthew’s stay would not be pleasant. Rather than meet him in the Throne Room or even in a one of the towers, Leo ordered his men to take Matthew directly to the dungeon under Castle Graden.  The
labyrinths below Graden were nothing like the ones under Blackthorn.  These made the dully-lit passages below Blackthorn look like the line outside a carnival attraction.  Twists and turns, spirals and corkscrews, catacombs lined with coffins and other human relics, there was nothing at all pleasant about what lie beneath Graden.

When they finally reached the cell, Matthew was completely disoriented and confused. His arms were tied at his sides and walking was a struggle. Yet, the guard who pulled him along seemed in a hurry and it was all Matthew could do to keep from falling. 
Along the way, he passed a few other prisoners. Some crying out in pain, some mumbling quietly to themselves. One older woman was yelling something about being a queen.  Another had a pungent and somewhat familiar scent.  In the darkness, Matthew could see no one other than the guard right beside him so he could not identify any of his fellow inmates.  At last, they came to a stop. One of the guards unlocked a rusty gate. The light of the one torch carried by another guard revealed that this was no ordinary prison cell. It was a torture chamber.

Matthew was led over to the rack and unceremoniously attached to the device.  His tormentors took great pleasure in the pain they were able to inflict jus
t as they were strapping him down.  Once his hands and feet were securely fastened to the wheel, they gave it a quick test-run to make sure the pain-level was sufficient and then left him in agony, awaiting Leopold’s arrival, taking every last ray of light and hope with them out the door.

The room was completely dark, black as pitch. His arms were not quite pulled clear of their sockets but any movement at all, even a deep breath, was enough to make him cringe with pain. The ligaments in his hips were stretched just as tightly. In the distance, he could hear someone
begging for mercy and it sounded like a woman.  He also heard the sickening, scratching sound of sharp rat claws as they scurried across the cold stone floor.  Sleep would have been a welcome relieve but the pain in his limbs would not allow it and so he waited for Leopold to descend and get on with it already. 

It seemed like it were days before Leopold finally entered the room, though it had only been a few hours.  The light of the torches his henchmen carried burned Matthew’s eyes as he attempted to adjust to the light.

Leopold was dressed in all black, a thick ebony robe encompassing his powerful form.  His blond head cast a sharp contrast against both his outfit and his dark colored facial hair.   His mustache had been recently waxed, the points giving him a devilish quality.  “Matthew,” Leo said as he approached his prisoner. “It is my pleasure to finally meet you.  My cousin, Philip, has told me much.  I hope that my servants been hospital?”

Matthew was groggy. He had not slept but the pain was so overwhelming, he was having difficulty maintaining consciousness.  He wasn’t exactly sure what Leopold
might want with him but he was hopeful it would be over quickly and he would either kill him or, at the very least, tell him what he had planned.  Unlike Philip, Leopold would have clear intentions as to why he was being held and for how long. Either Caleb would comply with his demands or Matthew would be put out of his misery. And at this point, he would gladly accept either alternative. 

“My understanding is that you are quite the escape-artist,” Leo continued. “We will make sure that doesn’t happen here. You may have noticed the layers beneath my castle are much more impenetrable than those under Blackthorn. But, beyond that,” he added, “You won’t have the same type of freedoms here as you did in your pleasant tower room in Clovington.  No, I’m afraid our accommodations are not quite as . . . accommodating.” With that, he gave the lever at the top of the wrack a slight turn, pulling Matthew’s arms almost completely out of their sockets and leaving him grimacing.