Moon Rise (Twilight Shifters Book 2) (11 page)

They had decided to dress in the leather uniforms of the soldiers who had fallen.  As repulsive as it was to take clothes off the dead, off people they had once known, they were going into Lord Arnkell's land and their own uniforms would stand out like a light in a mine.  Their metal armor, their indigo shirts, it was nothing like the crude leathers the Arnkell people were used to seeing.

Lars came over and held her stirrup for her as she climbed onto her horse.  Her body was not happy about getting into the saddle after her fight with the harpy.  If it wasn't for the fact Finn might be dying and they were the only ones that knew he had been captured, she would have voted to stay in the cursed camp, monsters or not. 

Lars's face broke into a huge, goofy smile as he looked at her.  Her heart could not help but soften.  She touched his cheek and then leaned forward in her saddle to give him one final soft kiss before they got on their way.

"Thank you," he said, as if she had given him the biggest gift in the world.  He walked to his horse with a whistle on his lips and leapt up into the saddle.  "Ready?" he asked.

Aein glanced back.  "It will be good to see our old home again," she admitted.  Then images of the past days flashed through her mind and she clarified, "Actually, it doesn't matter where we're off to.  It will be good not to be here.  Let’s go."

They clicked their heels and the horses headed towards the exit of the swamp.  For whatever reason, the fog left them alone.  Perhaps the carnage had finally sated its appetite. 

She had a hard time keeping her horse reined in.  He was so excited to be leaving, he kept trying to take his head and run.  Though the swamp was playing nice, she did not want to trigger a chase instinct in some predator they had not spotted.  She was more than a little unnerved to see a hawk sitting on one of the branches watching them with a steady gaze.  She wished Finn was there to let them know if it was bird or shifter.

They traveled for two weeks pushing their horses to the brink of exhaustion.  Every moment they delayed was a moment which might cost Finn his life.  They only paused when the highest tower of the Arnkell stronghold appeared over the tips of the trees. 

Lars shivered and tightened his cloak around his body.  "Welcome home."

Aein realized she was gripping the reins so tight her knuckles had turned white.  It was strange to finally make the journey with Lars.  If she had not accidentally turned him into a werewolf, they would have enjoyed catching this sight together months ago.  Instead, her chest felt tight and it seemed hard to catch her breath.  She was on this road before some of the worst moments of her life - her disgrace in the court after abandoning Lars on the border, her return to find Cook Bolstad dead.  It felt as if she took another step forward, everything would happen again.  Or, more frighteningly, something even worse.

A peasant passed by dressed in coarse rags.  Upon her back she carried a bundle of switches taller than she was high.  The old woman's misery spoke in her hunched shoulders and shuffling feet.  Aein willed herself to memorize the woman's face.  She told herself that as long as Lord Arnkell was allowed to continue in his war, this ancient grandmother would suffer.  She had taken an oath as a guard of the Arnkell land to protect the people.  She had not known at the time it would mean protecting them from their own master.  To shy away because of her own fears and memories would mean she had failed her duty.  Aein focused back on the tower.  Her friend was trapped inside.  She tried not to think of what they had been doing to Finn these two weeks.  She tried to imagine him safe and whole, kept strong by the knowledge she would come.  Aein and Lars could not fail him.  They could not.

As if reading her mind, Lars asked quietly, "What do you think Queen Gisla will do if we have to tell her we lost Finn?"

Aein thought back to the way Queen Gisla looked at Finn.  It was the look she saw on Lars's face.  She thought about what Lars would do if Lord Arnkell ever killed her.  "I believe Queen Gisla will slaughter every man, woman, and child in this land," said Aein with certainty.  "We must make sure that does not happen."

"I wish we had a better plan."

"Me, too," Aein said.

They tapped their horses' sides and guided them into the forest.  They had decided to use the hidden entrance to the stronghold, the same one Aein used once before when she and Finn sneaked in.  It was hidden by the side of a cave.  Most anyone seeking shelter would head for the rocks and not give a second glance to a plain flagstone covered in leaves. 

The entrance had not changed a bit, which was encouraging.  In silence, they dismounted and ground-hitched the horses.  Aein lifted up the stone.  The staircase leading into the lower cavern was pitch black and, unfortunately, Aein and Finn had carried the lantern to the other end the last time they had used this entrance.

Aein walked over to her pack.  She had a cow horn with the side cut out of it.  Melted into the tip was a precious candle.  It had never been meant for long term use, just enough in case they were in trouble.  She believed this qualified.  She just needed it to burn long enough to guide them through the cavern.  Once they got in and freed Finn, he would be in wolf form and, if the gods were willing, he could lead them back through the dark.

Lars pulled out the flint from his saddle bag and was able to catch a few sparks on the wick.  "We need to move fast," he said, discouraged by the amount of wax in the horn.

They dove into the caverns.  The single candle eked out just enough light to guide them.  Water dripped in the distance.  Aein was happy to see that her old footprints from the previous trip were still undisturbed in the dirt.  The exit seemed so much farther away than before, Aein thought, but finally they saw the first door.  It was wide open, just as it had been left the last time Aein and Finn had been here.  Behind it were four more doors, each untouched.  A wave of relief engulfed Aein.  Closing up this secret entrance seemed to have been forgotten in the chaos of the war.  Lord Arnkell probably did not even know she was aware of it.

At the final door, Lars drew his sword.  Aein blew the light out and they were plunged into darkness except for a crack around the edge of the door.  Blindly, Aein put her hand on the handle and pulled it open, trying to move the heavy wood slowly enough that the hinges did not give them away.  The thick tapestry hanging in front of the doorway gave them a few more moments of privacy.  She listened and there was no sound.  She turned to Lars and waved for him to follow.  She pushed back the edge of the fabric.

Standing there was Lord Arnkell and twenty of his soldiers.

"Welcome home, Aein," he replied with a smile.  "We've been expecting you."

"R
un," she whispered to Lars.  But it was too late.  A guard seized her by the arm and threw her to the ground, pressing his foot painfully into the back of her neck.  She rolled her eyes to the side and saw they had forced Lars to the ground, too, pinning his elbows behind him.  His blade lay uselessly beside him.  The remaining soldiers held their swords at the ready to run them through if they tried to break away.

Lord Arnkell was leaner, his shorn brown hair was longer, but otherwise he had not changed. His square, chiseled jaw twitched as he looked at them with a mixture of contempt and amusement.  His soft, leather-soled shoes barely made a sound as he walked towards Aein.  He was always quiet before he struck.  He wrapped his massive, calloused hand in her hair, and yanked her to her knees.  He brought his face so close, she could smell the musky scent of his body, a scent she had found intoxicating when she worked as a kitchen wench.  Now it turned her stomach. 

He ran his finger across her cheek possessively.  "And how is my favorite little traitor?"  Aein tried to pull away, but he grabbed her face and brought her around until she was staring into his flat, brown eyes.  "Now, now.  Isn't this what you always wanted?  The undivided attention of your lord and master?"

She said nothing, but let the rage and hatred burn within her.  She was glad he was being cruel.  It distracted her from the terror of what was to come.  She glanced at the other soldiers, the men and women she had served with.  She wondered how these fools could stand beside this man, the one man responsible for all of their suffering, and follow him like he was some sort of savior.

"Take these two down to the dungeon," he said, wiping his hands on his handkerchief as he stood.  "I need them as bait for Commander Finn.  Make sure word gets back to Queen Gisla's court that we have captured his favorite pets."

Aein's heart sank as the panic rose.  They had walked into a trap.  In trying to save their friend, they were about to become the very reason for his ruin.

"No!" said Aein, struggling.

"Don't be afraid to rough her up a bit if she doesn't play nice," said Lord Arnkell as he walked away.  He stopped himself, though, and turned back.  "Stick that other one in a silver harness.  I'll be down to interrogate them immediately.  Wouldn't want them to enjoy the relief of sunset."

Aein tried to carry herself with dignity, but her captors took Lord Arnkell's words to heart, dragging her when they decided she was not walking fast enough.  They shoved her and then kicked her when she fell.  She tasted the sharp, metallic flavor of blood.

"Better wipe yourself, missy," said one of the guards, a man she once trained with named Egill.  "You'll drip on our nice clean floor."

She lifted the back of her hand to her lips.  It was covered in red.  "Why are you doing this?" she asked.  "You know me."

"I don't know who you are or why, after Lord Arnkell took you in and brought you up, you would poison every man, woman, and child in this fortress."

"That's not what happened—" she started to say.

But he cut her off.  "I was there.  I was there at the wedding.  I lost my sister and my wife to those mushrooms you brought back.  I saw it all."

And Aein realized she could say nothing to make this man see any different.  Because the truth of the matter was that she
had
done it.  She
had
poisoned everyone.  It was not her fault.  Lord Arnkell commanded it.  Cook Bolstad told her to do it.  But how to explain that to someone who had lost everything?

"When you're put on the rack, we'll all be lining up to give the wheel a turn," he hissed.

"Don't listen to him, Aein," said Lars, earning himself a clout to the side of his face.  But he kept talking.  "He doesn't know Lord Arnkell made you do it.  He doesn't know it was all a plot to destroy the Kingdom of Haidra."

Egill lifted a thick boot and kicked Lars in the side of the knee, sending him to the ground in pain.  "Shut up, Lars.  I never would have taken you to turn against your own people.  What did this pretty, little girl promise you?  That she loved you? That she'd make you a happy man? "

"She knows of a cure," Lars said.

"Stop!" said Aein, terrified of what he was about to say.

"You can't kill her," Lars added.  "You will never learn how to stop the shift without her."

"You people will say anything to keep yourself alive."

"Don't say another word," Aein hissed at her friend.

"Oh?  Is this something special shared just between you two?"  Egill lifted up Lars by the back of his shirt and pushed him forward.  "Don't worry.  Lord Arnkell loves hearing secrets and I'm sure you'll be dying to tell him before the night is through."  The door to the dungeon opened and they were both thrown inside. 

It was the same room where Aein had tried to sort out the werewolves, where she had tried to isolate the wolves of night from the wolves of day so they would not kill one another.  And now it was to be her prison.

The walls had once been whitewashed, but now were covered in unthinkable stains.  The floor was stone.  Two iron-barred jail cells sat next to each other.  The bars had been painted with silver since Aein had last been here.

Roughly, Egill stripped off their armor, leaving them in nothing but the faded green uniforms of Lord Arnkell's dead soldiers and the silver harnesses should either of them choose to shift. 

Egill threw them both into the same cell and turned the key.  He peered through the bars with righteous glee.  "Lord Arnkell has a talent for getting people chatty.  He's quite the conversationalist.  I'd recommend making it last as long as you can, because when he's satisfied he's learned everything in those pretty heads of yours?  He's going to throw you in a pit with the wolves you created.  He's going to start by feeding them one of your fingers and then maybe one of your toes.  Whatever is lying around.  And then he's going to let them rip you apart.  But don't you worry, we'll make sure to pull them back if they're doing it too quick.  We'll make sure you have plenty of time to savor the experience of being eaten alive, to get a full understanding of what you did.  You're going to be begging for death.  And when they're done with you?  We'll take your heads and put them on spikes and let the birds peck your eyes from your skulls.  And even all that, I would say, is letting you two off easy for the curse you brought into these walls.  As you scream out for mercy, I want you to think of everyone who would be alive, who begged for mercy, who would still be with us if it wasn't for you."

And then he walked away.

Aein slumped to the floor, covering her mouth with her hands.  She knew every word Egill said was true.  This was the fate which awaited them.  There would be no avoiding it.  And the worst part was she
did
deserve it.  Egill was right.  She was responsible.  No amount of apologizing or explaining she did not know what she was doing would change that fact.  If it wasn't for her, none of this would have happened.  She
was
responsible for the death of that man's sister and wife.  She
was
responsible for all of the death around them.

Lars crouched beside her and took her hands in his, pulling them away from her face.  "Aein?" he said.  "Don't listen to a word he said.  He is not telling the truth."