Book 2, Chapter 30: After Sunset
Distant banging. Scraping. Then a hammer sound. Crunching.
Consciousness, at this point, was not welcome, but it forced my eyes open once more. Battered, bruising, bleeding, the pain oddly faded and I was floating in this body. Aloof, barely aware of it. Trapped within, leaning on these ropes entirely. Sweat dripping off my chin. I couldn’t lift my head up to look. The floor was blurry anyways.
Shadows were different. The door had to be open. Blood pooled away from me. Sweat dripping off the bangs in front of my eyes. My little bodyguard in front of me, Tread was his name for sure, holding my head up, saying something.
Yelling behind me, shouting, even screaming, then it falls away and off in the distance, a thud.
My limbs are freed and I collapse. Someone’s putting clothing on me. Wine pushed against my mouth. Sweet. Spit it out. The first time I speak, my voice is coarse. “Ale.” All I can think of is that I don’t want lead in my body.
I look up and it’s Morry, holding a cup. Towel in his other hand.
“My cousin. Don’t kill him. Need him alive.”
“I tossed him out the window.”
“Oh.”
“I took one look at you and-”
“It’s fine. I didn’t like him. Ale.” I closed my eyes.
***
When I next woke up, I was downstairs in the parlor. Ale, bread, cheese, meats in front of me. Angry voices off in the distance. Morry, Tread nearby. The big guy must have carried me down. I smiled up at him, then took a long draught on the ale. Oh, but it felt good!
“Princess,” he began, “we’ve seized the castle. Soldiers are guarding this wing. We’re only controlling it because we have hostages.”
I could barely get out the single word, “Seized?”
“Yes, just the castle proper. We don’t have enough troops to take the town.”
“Why?”
“We heard you screaming.”
Another sip, longer this time. My mouth, starting to feel normal again. “Thank you.”
***
When my eyes opened again, I felt worse and better. Sore all over, each breath painful. But I could focus. Morry and Tread were in different positions.
I tried speaking, my voice was hoarse and rough, but it worked now. “Morry?”
“Princess, we have a healer on the way.”
***
I was trying not to move in earnest. Every breath opened up the cuts on my back in a concentric fashion, reigniting little fires of pain. Almost manageable now, controllable, but constant. Probably aren’t therapists here. I guess I’m getting over torture the old-fashioned way: alcohol, more alcohol, possibly revenge on the family, definitely a murder spree, and whatever passes for drugs here.
Tread spoke, “My lady, the healer of Castle Bechalle.”
I opened my eyes.
“Oh my gods!” She hurried over, knelt in front of the sofa I was on, placing her hands on me.
She fell into her healing trance, mumbling something, I wasn’t paying attention. It was difficult to concentrate, my body wanted me to sleep. Meanwhile, I was worried about letting fabric rest on my open cuts – who knows the state of the sheets here. Had to remember to tell Tread to get clean cloth.
She touched me. Blue lighting up her fingers, a weariness lifted and, for a terrible few moments, it was like heroin. Floating. Not like sex, no drive to make the pitch stronger, higher, but a calm and painless joy that you wanted to continue forever. It ended, the pain of the cuts returned, like sand in my skin, and I missed the floating sensation like the drowned miss air.
She was gasping, tired.
The cuts on my arm had not healed, but the bruising was gone. My muscles felt lighter, moveable, my throat well again. Testing, I breathed in slowly and felt the labyrinth of cuts open painfully on my back. “Lady, my back and arms yet bleed and are painful.”
Sharp intake of breath. “I . . . I cannot.”
Annoyed, “Why not?”
“I know not, my lady. I have tried on the other . . . victims of the duke. None were successful.”
“How many prior victims?” I was suddenly reminded of the first time we met. She’d gone pale. So, she knew what the duke had planned. That boiled my blood. The stuff that wasn’t leaking out my back anyways.
“He bade me heal the first and attempt the second, and I know of at least a third, but that is as far as I am aware. I could only heal the bruising. The cuts must be magical in nature.”
I had to ask, with no small amount of anger, “When you met me, you knew.”
“I . . . I’m sorry, so sorry Your Highness. I . . .” She was pale, but I didn’t know if from fear of what I’d do to her or the effort she’d spent on me.
“How? What clued you in?”
“It’s, it’s your eyes.”
“My eyes?”
“He, the girls he did this to, they all had your eye color.”
I was getting tired of all the guesswork I had to do, the unclear answers. “What does my eye color signify?”
“Only people from Laemacia-”
“I know where I’m from! What does having lavender eyes mean?”
“It’s from a myth! Please! The duke, he believed in it, that girls with lavender eyes carry the divinity within.”
“Like red haired girls are witches, left-handed people are sinister? That sort of idiocy?”
“I don’t know, Your Highness,” she said, shaking her head, “I’ve never heard of those.”
“Look, I’m not going to have you hanged. Just go.”
“You’re banishing me?”
“From the room, yes. Unless you can offer me better answers than you’re providing, or the very best in stirring conversation, I’d rather be alone.”
She did a lot of bowing on her way out and never showed me her back, which I found odd. Sure, ok, maybe her back was very ugly and she didn’t want to further displease me. Or perhaps she worried that I’d be ever jealous of an unscarred back henceforth. Gotta hide your untouched skin from Princess Cayce the Impaler! Or she mistook me for the Shogun, worried I’d execute her for such a slight.
In this manner of musing, I passed the time until drifting off, which didn’t take too long.
***
“No, leave her sleeping,” said Morry. My eyes were still closed.
“But sir,” a voice unknown to me begged, “the countess is yelling and screaming, demanding to see-”
“Then stop listening to her and lock their rooms. I’ll tell you when to let them out.”
“Sir!” The door closed.
I opened my eyes. “Morry.”
He hurried over, picking up a mug and plate of food, “Princess! Are you feeling better?”
“Much,” I lied, “the healer took care of my bruising and probable organ damage.”
“Can you drink tea? Or more ale?”
“Tea, give me tea.” I took it and sipped. I didn’t know what effect caffeine would have on a body that lost so much blood, but alcohol wasn’t going to do me any favors.
“Didn’t the healer take care of your cuts?”
“Something about them being magical. Can you get that damn grand magister here? He might have some answers. Also, she did nothing for my mood. I am, I have to say, pretty angry.”
“Good, Princess, good. Stay angry.”
“Tell me again, what’s our situation?”
“We seized the castle and are holding the Carlisele family hostage. Sorry, but Brin is in there, too.”
“As much as I hate it, I don’t see how that would be avoidable. They’re family.”
“Exactly. Princess, it was not a bloodless take over.”
“Ah.”
“Some of the Bechalle men resisted, but we were better organized. All our cavalry are within the castle proper, but it’s unlikely we’ll be able to hold it if they muster. The hostages are our only protection at this point.”
“Right. I won’t give them up this time. Also, good thinking. You’re promoted to general. And, uh, Tread’s your sidekick general. I’d still like you to stay near me, though.”
“I’m speechless.”
“Well, we have to live long enough to arrange a proper salary for you. And Earl Carlisele, among the hostages?”
“Unfortunately, the earl was outside the walls with his soldiers when we stormed the building.”
“Is her husband in charge, after Bechalle?”
“I believe so.”
“I’m going to need to speak with the countess then. But first, the grand magister. I’ll need to talk to him alone.” I hated to say this, but said it anyways, “And keep Tread away from Brin. For now.”
“My thoughts exactly, Princess.”
“What’s their military doing at this time?”
“Probably organizing to retake their castle.”
“As long as they know we have hostages, maybe they’ll hold off.”
“Let’s hope. I’ll send someone to find the wizard.” He stood.
“Also, good job. I appreciate you rescuing me. Deeply.”
“Think nothing of it.”
“It’ll be all I’m thinking about for some time.”
***
Tread woke me up, tapping my shoulder. “Princess Cayce? The grand magister is here to see you, as per your request. Also, I brought boiled blankets and boiled water for you. And clean robes.”
“Thanks, Tread. Pass me the robes. Wait, no, too painful. Look, I’m just going to stand and you’ll have to dress me. It’s, ah, nothing you haven’t seen before.” I was in too much pain to be embarrassed. And, well, he did just see and carry my naked body not too long ago.
I carefully took off the blankets and slowly stood up, wincing at the slightest motion. Tread looked straight ahead, proper and respectful, put the robes on me one arm at a time. “Loose. I have to disrobe for the wizard.”
“Whatever for?”
“So he can tell me what it means. Unless Bechalle was just insane. That’s also a possibility.”
“I’ll let him in.”
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