The Greenwood Shadow (15 page)

Was Robin Hood really such a problem that they would beat his whereabouts out of people? The king was clearly more disturbed than she had ever realized.

"I'm not afraid," she whispered to herself. "I don't get afraid."

That was a lie. Her breath came faster. Her hands trembled. A little awkwardly, Isaiah took them. He looked scared too, but at least his hands were steady.

"It's okay."

"No, it isn't." she retorted. She didn't pull her hands away.

"Let's not think about that now. Let's just eat and drink while they let us."

It took a while for Evey to calm herself. Then she suddenly realized that Isaiah was still holding her hands, and she yanked them away. His face fell.

"I'm fine now." Her cheeks burned hot, and she changed the subject. "Nice place. But I expected London to be, well, bigger."

"We're not in London."

"We're not?"

"No. That castle runs alongside the Thames. You'll have noticed a distinct lack of enormous rivers around here."

She swallowed a chunk of bread, then asked, "So... where are we then?"

"This is the king's country home, I think. He uses it in the summer, and lives in town during the winter."

Evey huffed. "Because one great palace isn't enough for a man,"

She munched on some bread and glanced around again, although nothing had changed since her first inspection of the place. Her eyes lingered on the iron covered slot.

She leaned toward Isaiah and said in loud voice, "Let me look at your shoulder."

When she was close to his ear, she whispered, "Don't look at it, just in case, but there's a space in the wall right behind me. They can probably hear and see everything. Be careful what you say out loud."

He nodded almost imperceptibly as she unwrapped his shoulder. His clothes were stiff with dried blood, and the injury itself was still ragged and scabbed. At least the bleeding had stopped. It seemed like no serious damage had been done to his arm. She prodded around gently so she wouldn't break the scab.

"Move your arm in a circle, but slowly."

He did. If he moved too quickly, the gash might open, but otherwise, it looked good. Hopefully.

She tried to pretend like she knew what she was talking about. "You'll be fine in a few days."

"Will I?"

"Don't talk like that!" She smacked him lightly on the back of the head. "It wasn't even that bad. Don't you dare turn into a coward on me."

Isaiah sighed. "Do you remember where we are?"

She drew herself up and mustered all of her courage. "Yes. And do you remember that we are going to get out of here? Just as soon as I can figure out a plan."

"Promise me something?" he asked.

"If it involves 'if I don't make it, tell my family...' then no. We're not even going there."

She'd never seen this side of him before. It was... disconcerting. He usually seemed so steady. But then again, her first reaction at the idea of torture was somewhat less than courageous too.

"No, it wasn't that." His voice turned somber and serious. "You know they're going to take me first, don't you? I don't know what they'll do to a girl, but I know for sure they won't mind 'persuading' me. So I need you to promise something. Two things, actually."

Evey raised an eyebrow and said, "What kind of things?"

"One, that you'll survive."

"Obviously," she replied. Where was he going with this?

"And two: if the chance comes, get out of here. No matter where I am, no matter what is happening to me, if you get the chance, then go. Please?"

"But–"

"No!" His eyes burned with a sudden hard light. "No 'buts'. Even if I can't come with you, please promise. Whatever they do to me won't be quite as bad if I know they can't do it to you."

"I..."

She didn't know how to finish. No way would she would leave him locked in a torture chamber. Never in a million years. Not in ten million. She couldn't promise something while consciously intending to break that promise.

But he was right about one thing. He would be taken first. Just the thought of him in such pain made her stomach knot. Maybe giving her word would help him through it. If it would help, she'd tell him whatever he wanted to hear. It would be worth it. She hoped.

"Please," he said, this time just a whisper in her ear.

"Fine. I promise." Then she hastily added a caveat. "But we won't have to worry about it, because I'm getting us both out."

She leaned in close, as if to re-wrap his shoulder. With her back to the slot to block anyone's view, she pulled the sheathed dagger out of her boot, and slipped it carefully inside Isaiah's shirt. She tied the sheath to his shoulder with the bandage. There he would be able to pull the blade with his right hand if he needed it.

"Take this," she whispered carefully. "Don't let them do anything too bad to you."

"But–"

"No 'buts'."

He shrugged and winced a little. Then they sat back and finished their bread in tense silence.

They passed the time with idle chat about what the weather might be like outside, or when different fruits came into season. The conversation was forced and pointless, but they didn't even dare to whisper plans to each other, for fear of being overheard.

Judging by the meals, three days passed in exactly the same manner as the first. Evey did a lot of pacing in those three days. Every second she spent in the unknown grated on her nerves. When the boredom finally ended, it would be with pain. That wasn't comforting. Still, she just wanted to know.

The more she thought about it, the less scary it all seemed. She could handle pain. She'd had her fair share in the past. But something told her that this would be nothing like what she already knew.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Halfway through the third day, a metal-on-metal scraping came from the door. It wasn't time for food, and no one had yet interacted with them, except at meal times. The heavy door swung open to reveal a tall, sinister looking knight. He was well groomed and bore his own crest. Evey could only assume that this was Sir Guy of Gisbourne.

"Good afternoon, my lady," he said in an oily tone, as he walked through the doorway.

She snorted. "Don't 'my lady' me, Sir Guy."

He looked delighted. "So you know me, then?"

"Well, they told me that Gisbourne was the ugliest of the king's council. So."

The arrogant grin disappeared from the knight's face.

"No. I don't suppose 'my lady' would do for someone like you." He cleared his throat. "All the same, I'll need to ask you a few questions. If you answer them, then maybe we can avoid any... unpleasantness."

Evey folded her arms and leaned back against the grimy stone wall. "You can skip that bit. We have nothing to tell you."

"Really?" He narrowed his eyes. "Well, I believe you. Normally we're required to ask anyway, but I think in your case, I'm going to rather enjoy what we have planned. Take her!"

Two soldiers entered and grabbed her arms before she could react. She struggled, but the men were too strong. Isaiah charged forward. Three more men jogged in to hold him back.

"Take me!" he screamed. "Leave her. Take me instead!"

They shoved him up to the back wall, and locked his hands into a set of manacles.

Sir Guy leaned in close to Evey. "Don't worry, my dear. You'll see him again very soon."

A chill ran down her spine at the sound of his voice, but she determined not to let it show. Instead, she stood straight and walked with a grim scowl plastered on her face.

They marched her into a room three right turns and two lefts from her cell. She had imagined a large cavern full of torture devices, with many sad forms wailing for help. Instead, she found herself in a rather small, brightly lit chamber with nothing but a strange-looking table.

"There's more than one way to come to an agreement," Sir Guy said, with a sickening smirk.

The soldiers tilted the table up and backed her against it. Two thick ropes fell over her shoulders. The men looped her hands through the dangling ropes and pulled them tight.

"After all, I have no quarrel with you. It is Robin Hood I want." Gisbourne stepped close to her. "There's no reason why this situation should end unpleasantly."

His face was only a foot from hers. She could smell his fancy perfumes mixed with the scent of dungeon cells. She would have vomited on him if she had more than just a bit of bread in her stomach.

He reached up to touch her cheek. She tried to punch that ugly smirk off of his face, but she couldn't move her hands more than an inch. Her feet were still loose, though. She grabbed hold of the ropes around her wrists and supported her full weight on them. With wiry muscles honed from leaping around in the trees, she lifted both her feet and smashed her heels into Sir Guy's nose with a ferocity that jarred her knees. He crashed to the floor, where he slid two or three yards before coming to a stop.

Blood exploded from his nose and lower lip, giving him a gruesome appearance. He looked absolutely stunned, and absently wiped his mouth with a sleeve. A minute later, he stood and stumbled to the wall to support himself.

"Finish tying her!" he commanded. "And you, forget the questioning. Let's move straight to the next plan."

One guard nodded and left the room, while the rest of them fought Evey for control of her feet. They each got several good kicks, though none as damaging as Sir Guy's. It took twenty minutes before they could tie her down completely, by which time Sir Guy had recovered most of his composure. His nose had stopped bleeding so freely, but it was bent to one side, marring his previously unscathed face.

"You are going to pay for that." He said that far too calmly. "Oh, you certainly are."

He reached for a lever at the side of her table, but changed his mind just before he pulled it. He smacked her instead, hard enough to leave his hand black from the grimy axle grease that still covered most of her face.

A struggle from the corridor drew their attention. The unoccupied soldiers went to help, and soon Isaiah appeared in the doorway. Evey couldn't tell who was dragging who. He had one soldier on each limb and a knife to his throat, but the soldiers still couldn't quite hold him still.

As they all entered, Isaiah saw Sir Guy looming over Evey with one hand on the table's lever. His blue eyes shone fiercely through the black streaks on his face.

"Ah. I see our guest is here. Welcome, lad. As you can see, you were partially right. It is you we've come to get our information from."

He yanked the lever down one notch, and the already tight ropes pulled Evey's limbs to their full length.

"I'm sure you know what this little contraption is for," Sir Guy continued, and he pulled the lever again.

Despite herself, a little squeak escaped from Evey's lips as her arms and legs stretched. Isaiah struggled, but the men weighed him down.

"It would be a pity to damage such a... delicate creature." Sir Guy's words dripped with sarcasm. "But sadly, we'll have to keep moving this lever down until it's too late. That is, unless you can find it in your heart to save her. Tell us what we want, and she goes free."

He pushed the lever again. Agony ripped through her muscles. It was a kind of pain she didn't even know how to describe. She clenched her teeth and tried not to scream.

"I can't tell you anything!" Isaiah shouted.

Sir Guy adopted a look of concern and worry. "That's too bad. A few more notches and all four limbs will be permanently dislocated. Who's to say what will happen to her spine?"

He hit the lever again. This time Evey couldn't help it. She cried out so loudly that it echoed around the room. Tears ran down her cheeks as fire burned through her arms and legs.

"NO!" Isaiah screamed.

Evey glanced over, just able to make out his face through the tears and blinding pain. She could feel his stare and tried to smile. The lever cranked another notch. The ripping and burning almost knocked her out. Her muscles and tendons had to have split into a dozen pieces. Her joints would rip apart, and her back. Her back!

With a feral scream, Isaiah broke away from the men holding him. In one deft movement he drew the dagger from his left shoulder and viciously swung it at the man who still held his right leg. The man fell to the floor, holding his hands over the gash in his face. The other soldiers tried to get a hold of him again, but Isaiah's momentum couldn't be stopped.

He tossed one man to the stone wall, knocking him senseless. He switched the dagger to his left hand and slashed another guard, rendering the man's arm limp. In a matter of seconds, all five men had been put out of the fight for good, and Isaiah, limping and cut in a dozen places, advanced on Sir Guy.

"I'd stay there if I were you." Gisbourne pulled the lever down another notch.

Evey screamed sounds that should never come from a human being. Or any creature. Nothing should feel that way. Not ever.

Isaiah kept advancing.

"You touch that lever one more time, and you'll wish you're on that rack instead, by the time I get through with you."