From Darkness Won (25 page)

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Authors: Jill Williamson

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Religious, #Christian

BOOK: From Darkness Won
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“You are to storm me, Your Majesty, not read my correspondence,” Duchess Amal said aloud. She lifted the puppy, and the scroll coiled up on her desk.

I thought maybe
you’
d be writing to Lady Averella to tell her to come home and meet her intended.

She chuckled.

Her laugh filled him with such warmth that he wanted to make her laugh again. Instead, he asked,
How did you know I was here?

“I can sense when I am being watched. A lesson for another time. You arrived faster than I anticipated. I suspect you have been entering the Veil more than Sir Caleb is aware of.”

Achan had no answer for this. He concentrated on Duchess Amal’s face, her flawless skin, her auburn hair. He rushed forward, hoping to knock her mind from her body like tackling Shung. He entered her head—

And flew right through her. He’d glided halfway into the wall behind her desk before he could stop himself.

“That will not do, Your Highness.”

Her criticism filled him with heat.
When I stormed Sparrow, she was trying to penetrate my mind. I sensed her, so I had a target. How can I find you if you’re not attacking?

“If I’m not attacking you, where is my mind?”

In your head.
Which was why Achan had tried the tackle approach.

She folded her hands on her desk. “Do not make this more complicated than need be. Seek my thoughts. Should
m
y shields keep you from seeing them, you have my shields to focus on.”

Of course. Achan sensed strong shields around her mind, yet he pushed past them with little effort.

Her private thoughts filled his head.
—is such a bright young man. I expect he shall have me stormed before I can—

Achan flew against her voice. He made contact but this time took the duchess with him, through the wall and into the bright sunlight.

Duchess Amal’s deep laughter filled his head. “
Before I can finish my thought,” was what I had been thinking. Well done, Your Highness!

Achan floated over the inner bailey in almost the same place he’d come up from the underground tunnel. He held Duchess Amal around her waist, his head tucked under her arm. He released her at once, cheeks burning. His body floated up and back from hers.

And there you have stormed me.
Duchess Amal shot up to Achan’s height.
Though in battle, you would throw me up as far as possible. If you recall, the sky is disorienting in the Veil. If your target does not have a partner, it only takes seconds for them to forget and get lost.

Duchess Amal vanished.

Achan floated back through the castle wall and found her whole again, sitting at her desk.

“That is enough lesson for today, Your Highness. This is how we shall practice from now on. Should you need me, message at any time. I am your servant.” She bowed her head.

Dismissed, then.
Thank you, my lady.
Achan opened his eyes to the frescoed ceiling above his bed and smiled. He was getting faster at this. He raised up onto one elbow to
s
ee Shung slouched down in the chair beside his bed, eyes closed.

“Are you sleeping?”

Shung’s eyes flashed open. “Listening.”

Achan narrowed his eyes. “You expect me to believe you were focused on nothing but Duchess Amal and my conversation? All this time?”

His Shield’s dark eyebrows wrinkled low over his eyes.

Achan continued to needle him. “That your thoughts never once drifted to a certain tall woman with dark hair and a cheerful smile?”

Shung bared his yellow teeth in a wide smile. “Berland soldiers arrived this morning. Eager to see Lady Gali.”

Achan sat up and swung his legs over the side of his bed. “Lady Gali travels with Sir Koyukuk’s army?”

“In Berland, female warriors are not prohibited.”

This did not surprise Achan. Lady Gali was as forbidding as Shung. “I’m glad Berland is on our side. For I would not wish Lady Gali’s wrath upon any of our men.”

Shung banged his fist over his heart. “You honor Lady Gali to say so.”

Achan bit back a smile. “You must go to her and give my greetings right away,
Sir Shung Noatak
.”

Shung stood and stomped one foot. “As you wish, Little Cham.” He bounded to the door and opened it so fast he almost ripped it off its hinges.

Kurtz, who’d been on guard in the hall, swung around to look inside the door, one hand on the hilt of his sword. He met Achan’s gaze through the open doorway. “Hello, Pacey.”

Achan grinned at Kurtz’s use of the nickname he’d given him on their visit to a tavern in Tsaftown. They had pretended
t
o be sailors just into port. Achan had been an oarsman. “Hello, Kurtz.”

Shung darted past Kurtz. The floor shook lightly as his footsteps pounded down the hall at a run.

Kurtz turned to watch Shung. “Where are
you
going, eh?”

Achan stood and stretched. “I’
ve sent him on an errand, Kurtz. I’m afraid you’ll have to guard the door a bit longer. For Lady Gali awaits.”

 

 

10

 

A whip cracked. A man screamed.

“It weren’t me. I swear! Ask Murgon. Ask him, I say!”

Vrell pushed her fingertips into her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. Her hands trembled, creating a hum that only agitated her distress. Closing her eyes could not stifle the stench of urine, dirt, and moldy bread.

Reggio Levy had no right to put her here. A noblewoman should
not
be kept in a dungeon. Reggio’s audacity had always been borderline insane. But to take her from the Corner at Sitna Manor and throw her here? Had the man no sense of propriety? More importantly: did he really plan to give her to Esek? Could Esek truly be alive?

The muted screaming stopped. Vrell released her ears and opened her eyes. The torchlight from the corridor painted stripes of light across the dirt floor of her cell. Her skirt had
f
allen to the ground again, and she wrapped the rough fabric around her knees as if bundling something precious. Or keeping something hideous out. That fear had kept her from sleep. Was it morning yet?

Her cell was dark and, thankfully, vacant, though a cot, stool, or some kind of blanket would have been nice. The front of her cell consisted of a half wall of stone with iron bars running from the top of the wall to the ceiling. She sat against the stone, knees to her chest, just to the left of the barred door. Full walls of iron bars divided her cell from others. Hers looked to be in the middle of a dozen or more along this row, for she could see men at various distances on both sides, trapped behind the bars like the teeth on a comb.

Vrell tried not to look at the back wall, but her gaze continually flitted to the iron rings hanging from the stone. She shuddered at the memory of Achan hanging from such rings in his cell in Mahanaim while Lord Nathak’s guard whipped him. She prayed she would not meet the same fate.

If she had followed her own instincts instead of caving to Gren, she would be in Allowntown by now. But what was done was done, and fuming would not change her circumstances. She should contact Mother, she supposed.

Mother would be furious.

She prolonged the inevitable tongue-lashing by focusing on Bran’s mind instead. She found him in an even darker room than her dungeon cell. The hairs on Vrell’s arms tingled. Something was wrong.

Bran’s wrists stung.
What did Prince Oren say, Sir Jax?

That he can do nothing for us at present.
Jax’s voice boomed from the darkness on Bran’s left.
Promised to inform Sir Caleb
o
f our plight, but I told him I can manage that. He’s got enough to worry about.

Quite right.
Sir Rigil’s voice came from Bran’s right.
Do take care, Jax. Lord Agros is Sir Caleb’s brother.

I had forgotten
, Jax said.
Do you think I should message Sir Gavin instead?

No,
Sir Rigil said.
Sir Caleb is Prince Achan’s closest advisor, and we were returning to Prince Oren on the prince’s orders. I’m afraid you must message Sir Caleb.

Jax did not answer again, and Vrell suspected his message to Sir Caleb was being sent. What could have happened? Were they in a dungeon too?

We were too lax,
Sir Rigil said.
I should have had
Jax
bloodvoice Lord Agros before we approached the gate.

That conniving old blackguard!
Bran’s slang shocked Vrell, for she had never heard him use such language.
Does that mean this “New Council” has taken over?

It appears so, Master Rennan.

What do you suppose they’ve done with Lord Agros?

I dare not say. It is clear he is not down here, unless he is too injured to speak.

Bran shifted his hands. Scratchy rope bit into his wrists, bringing tears to Vrell’s eyes.
Can you
loose
your bonds at
all?Mine
are cutting through the skin.

As are mine. That old man is a smart devil. Even had his guards check my boots.

Mine as well. If only
you’
d taught me to hide a knife somewhere else.

We must not give up hope. Arman will provide.

Bran sighed.
Unless He is ready to take us home.

Do not get sentimental, boy. We may be here a long while. It would be better for Sir Caleb to leave us than risk men in a rescue attempt. I should have had Jax tell him so, though he will likely come to that conclusion on his own.

At least by our capture the men will know not to bring Achan this way,
Bran said.

Good man, Rennan. That’s the way to look at it. See? Arman has already used us, and we almost missed it. But I’ve told you not to refer to the prince as “Achan.”

Bran was about to respond, but Jax spoke.

The army moves out today. Sir Caleb was grieved to hear about his brother but thankful to know of this trap.

Vrell pulled away from the men, heart heavy. A trap in Allowntown? There was no time to waste.
Mother? It is Averella. I have news.

One moment, dearest.

Vrell squeezed her hands while she waited. A prisoner in the cell on her left sang a slurred tune.

What is it, Averella?

I’m in Sitna. I thought I could catch up with Jax but—

Mother sighed heavily.
I am in a meeting, Averella. Unless you are in mortal danger, we shall speak of this later.

I am in the dungeons. Reggio Levy had me arrested.

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