Princess of Silence, page 14
part #1 of When Kings Collide Series
A jiggle of the handle revealed the door was locked, which wasn’t a surprise. Glancing around, he spotted a small wooden pillar holding an urn. The decorative pot shattered on the ground as he picked up the pillar and used it as a battering ram. Three swings later, what was left of the door pushed open.
The opulent furniture and fabrics indicated he was right; this was the king’s room. It was dark, but he’d only taken a few steps into the space when he realized he wasn’t alone.
A pair of blue eyes, wide with fear, stared at him from the bed, cutting through the darkness. David stared back for a moment, not sure what to think of the situation. Even in the dark, it was obvious he was looking at a young woman, and it appeared she was bound to the bed. While the blankets were pulled up tight, he imagined she was also undressed.
Part of him wanted to chuckle, but he bit it back, not blaming her for the terror in her eyes. With his hands up in front of him where she could see him, he took a few steps closer. “I mean you no harm,” he assured her, but she said nothing, only followed him with her eyes, her breathes short gasps.
It was a black ribbon that had her bound to the bed, and from the looks of it, Philip was a master with knots. Running low on time and patients, David decided not to give any more thought to the situation. He pulled out his knife without thinking, and hearing her inhale sharply, he said, “Oh, I apologize.” He held it up for her to see and gestured at the rope. “I’m just going to... free you.”
With a quick slice, her hands came apart, and the girl quickly gathered up the bed clothing around her. Noises in the hallway alerted him that his soldiers were looking for him. He needed to hurry. Even though he trusted his men completely, he couldn’t leave her like this. Shouts of his name had him calling back that he’d be right there, and then after a quick look around the room, he spotted a robe on the end of the bed.
Picking it up, he laid it on her legs. While he had noticed a gown across the room, he didn’t have time to mess with all that. “Put this on, and we’ll escort you down to where we’re holding the prisoners.”
While her eyes were still bulging, she nodded, and while he imagined she’d prefer her gown, she wasn’t about to argue with him. Placing his knife back in its sheath, he turned his back to her for privacy and stepped away a bit.
The girl still didn’t speak. He only knew she had the robe on and was ready when she came to be standing next to him. While it seemed odd to him that she hadn’t said a word, he assumed she was too scared to speak. He gave her a reassuring smile and then took her arm. Despite the situation he’d found her in, she seemed like a pleasant woman, certainly beautiful. Perhaps it hadn’t been her choice to become one of Philip’s playthings.
A few steps into the hallway, David was met with a rush of soldiers. “Sir, what are your orders?” one of them asked before they all noticed the diminutive form beside him and several mouths dropped open.
“Continue to secure the hall,” David said to the one who’d asked the question. “Simpson, escort this young lady outside to the courtyard. Be sure she’s safe before you leave her.”
“Ye—yes sure,” Simpson, a newer recruit, but one David trusted, stammered and offered the girl his arm.
She didn’t move, though. David turned to look at her for a moment. “You’ll be safe,” he assured her.
Her throat bobbed before she took a hesitant step forward, and slid her hand through the crook of Simpson’s large arm. The scene was a bit comical, but David had other matters to attend to, so he shook his head, attempting to clear his thoughts and get back to work. Whoever the girl was, she wasn’t going to be any help in finding Matthew or Philip, and those were the most important obstacles he needed to overcome before Caleb arrived at Blackthorn and demanded a report. Still, his eyes followed the red-head down the hall until he realized the rest of the soldiers were watching as well. “Gentlemen?” he barked. “Back to work?” As one, they lurched to attention, and David headed down the hallway, searching for a pair of kings.
Katherine’s lips were trembling. Fear and shock pulsated through her as she walked down the hall--littered with bodies--on Simpson’s arm. He was a nice enough fellow—she could tell by the way he held her arm and the smile he’d given her—but as far as he knew, she was the enemy. And here she was, practically naked, no shoes, picking her way across bloodied stone, having no idea what might happen next.
“You don’t need to be afraid,” he said as they headed down the stairs. “We won’t hurt you. King Caleb doesn’t put up with any sort of shenanigans.”
Katherine nodded, knowing she’d heard that from more than one person before. Still, she would’ve been more comfortable if the officer would’ve let her put on her gown. She couldn’t blame him for rushing, though. He clearly had work to do.
Outside in the courtyard, a throng of people were shouting and hurrying about. Many of them were Arterian soldiers moving citizens and captured enemy forces, but some of the aristocracy were demanding to be set free as prison carts loomed near the shattered wall.
Caleb’s optimism in taking the castle could be seen by the amount of prison carts he had brought. From her vantage point, Katherine counted five. A few of them were already beginning to fill up. She imagined they were separating the classes and keeping the soldiers in their own as well. Chances were, she’d end up in one with servants and villagers. Eventually, she would need to find a way to obtain an audience with Caleb, but for now, she felt safer amongst the commoners where she could find some anonymity.
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to stay with you,” Simpson said quietly as he walked her over to a wagon half-full with servant girls and other women from the village. “I must get back inside with my detail. You’ll be safe, though.” He stopped short of the line where other soldiers were helping the women climb a ramp into the back of the wagon and smiled down at her. “You needn’t be fearful.”
Katherine nodded and found a smile for him. He was gentle and thoughtful, not qualities she’d expected to encounter with an invading army. The officer had been the same way, though. Perhaps their characteristics were modeled after their own leader.
It was her turn now. The soldier at the gate, an older man with graying hair and a firm disposition, offered his arm. “Step in, please, miss.” His eyes shifted slightly as he took in the robe she wore. Made of purple velvet and sporting a large, hand-embroidered “P”, Katherine couldn’t blame him for noticing it. He said nothing, though, as she steadied herself on his arm and made her way up the ramp.
“Safe travels,” Simpson called before a sharp look from the soldier at the ramp had him running back toward the castle. Katherine held back a smile and made her way to the back of the wagon where she could lean against solid wood instead of just the bars that made up the other sides.
There was plenty of room back here as most of the girls were standing where they could stick their faces between the bars. She settled down in the corner, drawing the robe around her the best she could. It was a chilly evening, though not cold. Still, shoes would’ve been a comfort. Around her, some of the other girls were crying, begging to be released so that they might find their husbands or mothers. For the most part, they didn’t look frightened, only apprehensive. The soldiers on the outside of the wagon assured them anyone who swore allegiance to Arteria would be reunited with their family members once they reached the other kingdom, which was reassuring to some who were likely thankful not to have been killed in the fray.
None of the other women in her wagon were nobility. Over to her right, torchlight illuminated another wagon where the aristocrats were being loaded up, both men and women. They were the ones putting up a fuss, insisting they be allowed to gather their belongings. Katherine shook her head; she’d always felt more comfortable with the class of people she was with at the moment, and even though no one knew she was the princess, she was thankful to be in this wagon and not that one. As she watched one of Philip’s favorites, a plump courtier who always wore blue, make her way into the wagon on shaky legs, Katherine twisted the ring on her finger. At least she had that. The seal should prove her identity when the time came to reveal what she knew.
Movement and noise surrounded her, but a tension in the air revealed that the search was still on. Despite not being able to see what was happening at the castle, Katherine knew she’d be able to tell if Matthew or Philip were located by the reaction of the soldiers and the shift in dispositions. For now, the army continued to operate at full pace, hunting for the two kings.
Her thoughts went to Matthew, and she closed her eyes and rested her head against her hands, praying he’d be all right. If they hadn’t found him, did that mean he’d managed to get out of his cell? Or had Philip taken him? Surely, he hadn’t had time to order an execution in the few minutes between the time Charles knocked on the bedroom door and the breach of the castle.
Philip must’ve managed to get away as well, which made Katherine’s stomach churn. Although, with him gone, her chances of being charged as an enemy to Arteria were lessened. He couldn’t claim her if he wasn’t present. Part of her wanted him hunted down and locked up, or worse, the way he’d taken Matthew prisoner and killed his wife. Philip was an evil man, and if Katherine could go the rest of her life without laying eyes on him again, she’d be a thankful woman.
Thoughts of Joan, of her family, even of the servants she’d gotten to know in her short stay at Blackthorn came to mind, and Katherine prayed for each of them. One by one, women were escorted into the cart, but none of them approached Katherine, none of them recognized her, none of them paid her any mind at all, which was for the best. Still, as she thought about the people she’d miss and the possibilities in front of her, the princess couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her.
Chapter 16
The light of day cast an eerie glow over the ruins of the outer walls as Caleb approached Blackthorn. Smoke and dust hung in the air, though most of it had settled by now. The lack of bodies served as evidence that Philip’s men had broken and ran, even with the threat of their homes and families being overtaken by enemy forces.
It had been difficult for Caleb to hang back, but he’d done it. Anticipation overwhelmed him as he approached the castle. The fact that no word had come of his brother being located or Philip being captured was unsettling. He did his best to stay calm, and as the soldiers took note of him, stopping to salute, or raise a fist and give a cheer, he kept his confidence.
The last of the prison wagons was pulling out, laden with soldiers who would make the long journey back toward Arteria whether they wanted to or not. Supply trains would take their place, but as Caleb dismounted, he was aware they wouldn’t have much time here unharassed. Clovington might have fallen, but Gradenia was likely to become involved soon, and Leopold’s men would not tuck tail and run. At least the route would be shortened now that Blackthorn was securely in their hands. They would no longer have to travel through the Lowetian Forest. Instead, supply wagons could head straight east, cut through the corner of Zurconia, and straight toward Castle Caine. It would still take about a day and a half in the slow-moving wagons, but better terrain meant more speed, which should translate as less of an opportunity for attack.
“Sir,” one of his officers said, raising a hand in salute. “Casualties were minimal. We were able to take the fortress with little resistance.”
Caleb nodded, trying not to show his irritation. Not only could he see that, he’d already received dozens of reports indicating the same information. Looking up at Blackthorn’s walls, he wasn’t sure if he should try to hold it, or obliterate it.
David stepped through what was left of the large doors that had blocked the main entrance. Both were splintered, shards hanging from broken hinges, other sections littering the ground. His expression was grim. Caleb wasn’t ready to hear what he had to say yet. “Battering ram?” he asked, indicating the door.
His friend nodded as Caleb pretended to study the aftermath. With a deep breath, he turned to face the officer, bracing himself for bad news, although the fact that no one was outraged sparked hope that perhaps no body had been found. “Well?”
Clearing his throat, David folded his arms and pushed a piece of debris around with his boot. “He’s… not here.”
It wasn’t the worst news he could hear, and it also didn’t come as a complete surprise. Of course, Philip wouldn’t let go of the one asset he had left. “Damn,” Caleb muttered, wishing he had something to punch. “No sign of him?”
For once, David looked unsure of himself. “Possibly.” Cocking his head to the side, Caleb let him continue. “We found what appears to have been his cell. It’s in that tower, up there.” He pointed behind Caleb. Turning around, he noted it happened to be the highest spire in all of Blackthorn “Would you like to see?”
“Of course.” Caleb stared at the turret a moment longer, wondering what he might find there and then turned to follow David through the remainders of the door. For the most part, the castle appeared to still be orderly. It looked more like a festival had taken place than a battle, save the occasional bloody spot on the stone floor.
“We also found this, in what appears to be Princess Katherine’s room.” David produced a piece of parchment from his pocket and handed it to Caleb. He realized he’d given little thought to Philip’s betrothed. If it hadn’t come to his attention that Philip had requested she come to Blackthorn while Caleb was in the process of invading the kingdom, he probably wouldn’t have considered her at all. The idea that Philip was either a moron for needlessly endangering her or simply trying to draw Nadoria into the fray had been the only conclusion he’d been able to draw, and since neither mattered to him at the time, he’d let it go. Now, when he realized the paper was a coarsely drawn map, his thoughts shifted again. “What is it?”
“It appears to be a rendering of the tunnels below the castle,” David explained. “Presently, there’s no true way of knowing for sure if this has any connection to Matthew, but it looks like the picture shows the secret staircase we located in the wall, the one that leads directly to the prison cell we believe he was being held in.”
Caleb flipped the paper over as David paused in front of him near an opening in the wall. On the back of the paper, he could make out some writing. It was smudged, the paper wrinkled. Stepping toward a torch on the wall, he held it up. “What’s this?” he asked. “Does this say, ‘I am scared?’”
David didn’t move to look at the paper, and Caleb imagined he’d already studied it closely. “Yes, I believe so. But it doesn’t appear to be in your brother’s handwriting. Perhaps Katherine wrote it? Maybe she was attempting to escape herself. We’re not sure of her location at this time. We assume that she escaped with Philip, but we can’t say for sure.”
Caleb slipped the paper into a pocket and followed David up a narrow stairwell, his stomach flipping as he imagined what lay ahead of him. At the top of the stairs, a blood stain soiled the stone floor. He paused to run his boot over it and determined it wasn’t fresh. Still, the blood had to have come from his brother. He drew in a deep breath and followed David into the cell.
Keeping his expression neutral was nearly impossible. Not only did the room smell worse than a soldiers’ privy, the conditions were revolting. The filthy mattress, the bloodstained remnants of sheets, the overflowing chamber pot in the corner.... Emotions threatened to overwhelm him as he imagined his brother trying to survive here for over six months. It was all he could do to keep his anger under control.
David’s calm tone had kept Caleb from reacting rashly on more than one occasion, and this one was no different. “It appears as if he hollowed out the back of this cabinet and hid inside. He must have waited for guards to open the door, see he wasn’t here, and then slipped out behind them.”
Caleb glanced back at the cell door, wondering how Matthew had managed to trick them. He bent down to inspect the locking mechanism. He could see a coating of some sort inside and stuck his finger into the keyhole. “Is this… masticha?”
David’s forehead wrinkled as he approached and did the same thing, rubbing the sticky material between his fingers and sniffing it. “How clever,” he said, meeting Caleb’s gaze.
“He couldn’t have possibly done this one his own.”
“No, he must have had help.”
“And, if that is the case, then, someone, somewhere knows something.” Caleb felt his heartbeat quickening again. “We need to determine who it was that helped him plan his escape and figure out if he or she knew precisely where Matthew was headed.”
David agreed. “Once we get the prisoners to Caine, we can see if anyone has anything they’d like to share. Chances are, whoever it is will be willing to tell us. Assuming we have the person in our custody.”
Taking a deep breath, Caleb attempted to focus on the positive. He might not have his brother yet, but there was a glimmer of hope that he had escaped—and someone knew where he was. The king wanted to speak to the prisoners himself, which would mean a ride back to Caine, but if he could encourage someone to speak up, it would be worth it.
As he turned to go, a flicker of something white amid the tattered bedsheets caught his eye. He took a few steps closer and saw something other than straw ticking sticking up out of the holes in the mattress. “What’s this?” he asked, pulling out a piece of paper.
“I don’t know,” David said behind him. “We must’ve overlooked it.”
Caleb held his breath as he unfolded the paper to reveal familiar handwriting. It was a note—Matthew had left them a message.
To whoever may find this:
I, Matthew of Zurconia, am fleeing from my imprisonment this day. My intention is to reach Arteria and the faithful arms of my dear brother. Caleb, should you be the one to find this, please take care of my dear Angel. She has the map and will let you know how she rendered me aid in my darkest moments. Should I fall on my journey home, know that I am in better hands with the Lord my savior and those who have gone before me. Pray for peace for my poor tormented soul.
