The Mercenary's Marriage (12 page)

“I don’t think they will kill them,” Brice
said. “If they did, they would lose their hold on the king.” The
Queen sniffled and seemed to consider the possibility.

Drawing herself up so she was sitting
straighter, the queen declared, “Then we must escape.”

Only a few minutes had passed when out of the
corner of his eye, Darius spotted movement in the shrubbery to his
left. In hushed tones, he asked, “Jarn, did you see that?”

“Aye,” Jarn replied. “It looked like someone
else is trying to watch the castle.”

“I think he has spotted us.” Darius watched
as the unknown man made his way from cover to cover toward them.
Resting his hand on the hilt of his sword beneath his cloak, he
shifted his weight so he would be able to spring at the man if he
proved to be a foe.

A moment later, the man approached them
across the last open space. Darius realized that it was Trenar
right before the man reached their hiding place. Holding out an arm
to signal for Jarn to let him approach, Darius stepped back so he
could fit in the shelter of their hiding place.

“I thought it might be you,” Trenar whispered
the moment he caught his breath. “There are very few men in the
Kiylin itself. Most are defending the front gates into the city.
The servants’ village is almost empty, all except for the few of
the families who do not have someone on the household staff. Karyn
says someone has had control of the castle grounds for weeks now
and everyone she knows has been escorted outside the castle walls.
She has been watched so she has not dared to try to alert anyone
outside. I told her most of the city already knows.”

“Ogert is behind this,” Darius interjected.
“Do you know if there is anyone else behind it all pulling his
strings?”

Trenar’s voice reflected a frown. “I wondered
why it was so badly organized. No, I have not seen any evidence of
anyone else. Is it possible that Ogert is insane enough to leave
himself no escape?”

Darius ruefully considered the man that had
nearly killed him three years before. “Yes, it is possible.”

“I can see he wants to get to the king. Why
else would he be holding the queen and all four princes captive in
the castle with him? But I had the impression he blamed you,
Darius, not the king.”

“He does blame me,” Darius responded as the
pieces began to fit together in his head. “I would wager Lord
Micrey was initially pulling his strings, but Micrey did not plan
on dying.”

“What?” Jarn’s tone dripped with
disbelief.

“Ogert was initially only following Lord
Micrey’s plan when he took possession of the castle, but somehow he
found out that my wife was on the grounds. He was never one to miss
an opportunity.”

“You mean Brice is in there with that
madman?” Trenar asked.

“Yes.” Darius closed his eyes and willed his
brain to think. “We arrived right after she and Lysa, Ewian’s
middle child, were abducted. Jarn and I trailed them here. Was
there any way you could have been followed after you entered the
city?”

The dark outline of Trenar’s head moved from
side to side. “I was watching and saw no one.”

Jarn turned back from looking around the edge
of the low wall that sheltered them. “Another group of men just
left the building in the direction of the walls.”

“That is odd,” Trenar observed. “There were
only a few in the entire place when I investigated earlier. What
could that man be thinking?”

“I don’t know, but I am going to find out.”
Darius turned to Trenar. “Where is the best way to enter
unseen?”

“The kitchen garden,” Trenar answered and
understanding what Darius had decided, he declared, “I am with
you.”

Darius simply nodded and turned to Jarn. “Are
you coming?”

“I might as well,” Jarn answered saucily.
“You might need me to save your skin.”

Darius grimaced. Thankful that the darkness
hid his face from the man’s scornful eyes, he turned and checked to
be sure the way was clear. Then without waiting to see if the other
two were ready, he dashed across the open space in the direction of
the kitchen gardens.

Once the decision to try to escape had been
made, the Brice started searching for a way to lower them out of
the window. A relatively quick search of the sitting room, where
she and Lysa had been dumped, yielded no results.

The Queen was reluctant to allow Brice to
search the other room beyond, but after a long heated discussion,
Brice finally made her understand the necessity. The Queen finally
agreed, given that she was allowed to oversee everything Brice
touched. Brice was amazed at the woman’s inconsistency. One moment
she was meekly sniffling into her handkerchief and the next she was
a towering royal livid with indignation that Brice had even the
audacity to want to search her sanctum.

Just as Brice and the Queen started exploring
the bedchamber, the lock on the outside doors began to turn. Lysa
who had been lingering in the outer sitting room ran to warn the
other two. Brice, who heard the noise, looked up in time to see the
frightened child running for the nearest hiding place. The Queen
did the same. Brice looked about for a weapon to defend herself.
She was not going willingly this time. Spotting a small letter
opener laying on the desk against the wall, she reached for it.
Right before the men appeared she had it hidden in her skirts.

“Where are the others?” Hameal asked when she
turned to face him. Ogert was not with them, but she could see the
other two men from before following him into the room. Brice
shrugged and looked the traitor straight in the eye. Keeping her
face carefully blank she tried to ignore the men as they began
searching the room. “Where are the old lady and the child?” Hameal
approached her threateningly. His sword was still in its scabbard
at his side. Stopping at the point where she had to look up to see
him, but too far for her to do any damage without his seeing it
coming, he leered at her. “Be a good girl and Ogert might let me
have you after we kill Darius.” He licked his lips. “I will be
kinder than he.”

A shriek from the closet announced the
discovery of the Queen. Hameal glanced toward the sound and Brice
made her move. She aimed for the gap in his leather jerkin near the
center of his chest. Either she had made a sound or her movement
caught his eye, but the dull knife made it only half the distance
before Hameal caught her hand. He did not release it though. Slowly
he tightened his grip on her fingers.

“Cry out, girl,” he hissed. Brice looked up
to find cruel amusement in his eyes. Pressing her lips together,
she held her silence defiantly. Hameal tightened his hold again.
Brice could feel the bones and joints in her hand straining against
the pressure. The rough wooden handle of the opener bit into her
palm. Pain shot up her arm, but she had been in pain before.

“We found the old woman,” older guard
announced. Hameal did not respond and Brice refused to drop her
eyes in defeat. This man was not going to have her willing
obedience even if it meant him crushing her hand. “What are you
doing, Hameal?” The man asked.

“Teaching the wench a lesson,” Her opponent
grunted.

“Ogert wants her in one piece.”

“I don’t care what Ogert wants. She tried to
stab me and I am going to teach her a lesson.” The pain increased
as his fist closed more. Brice caught her breath and tears blurred
her vision, but she did not make any other sound.

“You don’t care that I want her whole?” The
question came from the doorway into the sitting area. “Hameal,
release her hand.” Ogert, looking angry and impatient, glared at
his underling. Behind the leader, there stood another man whom
Brice had never seen before. He was carrying a brace of lighted
candles.

Obediently Hameal released her hand, but as
soon as he did, he struck her hard across the face. The strong
bitter taste of blood filled her mouth. She was sure that her lip
had split. Brice refused to give into her desire to touch it or
turn away. Instead, she glared at him.

“You fool,” Ogert roared. “Do you want to
make Darius so livid he goes battle mad at the sight of her? Can’t
you manage to leave no visible evidence? I want him rational. He is
more vulnerable then.” Crossing to her, Ogert knocked the knife
from her now throbbing fingers. It dropped with a muffled thud as
he shoved a rough piece of cloth into her other hand. “Catch some
of that blood before it gets on your dress.” Turning the others, he
demanded, “Where is the child?”

“Wort is still trying to find her,” the man
restraining the Queen explained.

“I have her,” Wort announced as he emerged
from behind the bed and dragged a kicking Lysa behind him by her
arms.

“Good.” Ogert turned. Nodding to the man who
had accompanied him into the room, he said. “Riket, take Darius’
wench. Hameal cannot be trusted with her.” Seizing the candleholder
from the man, Ogert turned and led the way out of the queen’s
apartments. He informed Hameal of the current situation as they
walked down the corridor. “The castle gate has almost fallen and
Darius has been spotted on the grounds. I have sent the rest of our
men to the gates. I want to choose the battle place before he finds
us.”

“How is that going to help us?” Hameal
asked.

Ogert glanced back at the three captives.
Brice met his eyes as she walked defiantly upright. The Queen had
returned to her weeping; Brice could hear her occasional sobbing
gasps. Although she could not see, the scuffling of the man Ogert
had called Wort made it apparent that Lysa had also decided she was
not going willingly.

Ogert’s cold eyes finally turned back to the
passage ahead. “I want to make sure I have every advantage. Come,
we do not have much time. I still have to decide whether he or his
wench is going to die first.”

The kitchen was empty and the hearth bore no
sign that a fire had laid there for weeks. Wondering how the
invaders were eating, Darius made for the far door. The darkness
beyond the opening lay thick and heavy, but he knew his way and did
not need the light. The kitchen joined the dining hall via a long
corridor with storerooms branching off on both sides. Darius took
the stairs at the end two at a time. He could hear the footfalls of
his two companions in the hall behind him, but otherwise the place
was deserted.

Systematically searching the rooms they
passed, the trio made quick progress, but Darius was not satisfied.
The sounds of his feet echoed in the great hall as he entered. He
glanced around briefly in the unexpected light coming from the
windows. The moon must have shone its face. As he was crossing the
audience chamber to the throne room, a male yell rent the air
closely followed by a child’s cry of pain. Looking back to be sure
that Trenar had heard it too, Darius tried to locate where the
continued whimpering was coming from.

“It’s from the throne room.” Trenar pointed
in the direction of the great double doors to their left.

Darius nodded. “We will enter another way.”
He turned and headed back the way they had come.

Ogert announced to them all that the place he
selected was the throne room. And once they entered, Brice quickly
saw why he had chosen it. There were only two entrances and no
windows to the large room with lofty ceilings. Holding the candles
aloft, Ogert instructed the prisoners to be placed against the wall
farthest from both entrances and assigned each of them a
keeper.

As soon as she was told to halt, the queen
sank to the floor and dissolved into silent tears. She was not
going to be much of a challenge for the older man assigned to watch
her. Wort dumped Lysa a ways away from the queen so they could not
speak without being overheard. Lysa slumped to the floor, brought
her knees up to her chin, and glared at her guard over her folded
arms. Brice was Riket’s charge. He ordered her to kneel to the
other side of the queen, closer to the doors and farther from the
corner. The distance was such she was not able to offer any comfort
to the distressed woman.

Hameal immediately started harassing the
child. Brice could not make out the exact words, but she was sure
he was being nasty. Then he leaned forward to do something, but he
never got a chance. Quick as a flash, Lysa leapt at his hand, the
closest part to her, and sank her teeth into the flesh between his
thumb and first finger. Hameal roared and backhanded the child to
the floor. Lysa screamed in pain.

“Silence.” Ogert stalked over, whipping out
his sword. Shoving Hameal aside, he pointed it at the child. “Keep
your trap shut, brat, or I shall cut your throat. You are only the
dessert and I can do without if I must.”

Lysa wisely hushed.

“What did you do that for?” Wort asked
Hameal.

“The brat bit me.” Hameal rubbed his hand
sulkily.

“He probably deserved it,” Riket muttered so
Hameal could not hear. Brice looked up at the man who loomed over
her. He was being much gentler than Hameal and the other older man
had been. Perhaps he had a wife or daughter like her. He did not
return her gaze, but looked steadily forward. A muscle in his
cheekbone twitched and the hand resting on his sword was gripping
it so the knuckle turned white.

Turning to Hameal, who was still nursing his
hand, Ogert shoved one of the candles toward him. “Make yourself
useful and light the lanterns that will burn,” he ordered.

Hameal moved off in the direction of the
nearest lantern, one of many that hung at intervals along the
throne room’s walls. Even the queen was silent as Hameal slowly lit
the room. The illumination grew in patchy glows. Brice guessed some
of the lamps were out of oil because Hameal would try getting the
flame to catch and then after a time he would move on to the next.
Nevertheless, the fine paneling and elaborate tapestries lining the
walls progressively came into focus.