Princess of Silence, page 24
part #1 of When Kings Collide Series
This last bit certainly caught David’s attention. “What do you mean you don’t trust her?” he asked.
Caleb sighed. “I just… I don’t trust her. She’s a harlot. I think. At least that’s what Katherine said. And she lied to me. So, I don’t trust her.”
David’s forehead wrinkled. “Are you sure Katherine’s not a harlot?” he asked, reminding Caleb of his earlier statement.
The king raised his eyebrows. No, he wasn’t sure about that. But it was beside the point. “Look, she told me she couldn’t make a single solitary sound, and then she did. And I don’t appreciate being lied to so… I just don’t trust her. I don’t think she has any more useful information for us anyway.”
“I see,” David said, though the way he stroked his chin let Caleb know he still didn’t think he had all of the information. “So, she indicated she was mute, but then you heard her talking?”
Sighing, Caleb admitted, “No, not talking.” Glancing at David, he knew he would have to say more. “Screaming.”
“Screaming?” David repeated. “In pleasure? So she is a whore?”
“No! No, in pain,” Caleb clarified, quickly pushing aside the mental image of Rose screaming in pleasure David had just created. “She burned herself in the kitchen, and she screamed. So, I knew she was lying.”
David’s eyebrows knitted even more closely together. He sat down on the edge of the table, and Caleb felt like a small child standing before a disapproving parent. “Let me make sure I understand, Your Majesty. A young, mute girl, the same one who helped your brother escape the clutches of an evil tyrant, was unable to give you any more information about his whereabouts, and you now think she is a lying whore because she was able to scream when she burned her finger? Doesn’t that sound a bit nonsensical to you, Your Highness?”
There was no arguing with David’s conclusion, especially when he worded it that way, and Caleb hadn’t even told him the worst of it. He’d been fighting the urge to admit what he’d done for hours, but now, looking at his friend’s stern expression, it all came rushing back to him. “Yes, I supposed it does.” David raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to say more, to admit he was wrong, but Caleb still had an urge to hold his defiant line. “You don’t understand, David. She’s infuriating. Have you ever attempted to communicate with someone who refuses to answer your questions? I just thought, if she knew something, anything at all, that could help us....” He trailed off. No matter how he tried to explain his actions, there was no way to justify them. He was wrong, and he knew it.
Then David asked the one question Caleb had been hoping to avoid. “And where is this young lady now?”
Caleb didn’t answer. David was attempting to force him to reckon with his atrocities, and the guilt he’d felt earlier, on the ride from Caine, began to eat at his soul once more. He pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes, “God, what have I done?” he muttered, speaking to himself now and not to David. As king, he had often made difficult decisions, some without time to think. Generally speaking, he always tried to be fair, to do the right thing. He was aware that his father’s temper, the one that had driven a chasm between them before he’d passed away, coursed through his veins as well. Most of the time, he was able to control it to the point that he never lashed out irrationally. But not today. Today he had been brash, cruel, and heartless. Today he had embodied everything about his own father that he so very much loathed.
When Caleb dropped his hands, David was still staring at him, waiting for an explanation. The king did not offer him one. “I have to go back,” he said, already heading toward the flap in the tent.
Confused, David followed him. “What do you mean? You have to go back? Now? It’s past nightfall.” The king marched on, now driven by the guilt he’d been avoiding for hours. “Caleb? Caleb!” David caught up to him, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around. “What could you have possibly done that cannot wait until tomorrow?”
The words tumbled out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop them. “I put her in the dungeon.” He knew the judgment he received from his friend would be harsh, but it couldn’t possibly be as harsh as that he was currently inflicting upon himself.
David gasped, taking a step backward and withdrawing his hand. “You did what?” he was quiet and calm, as always, but clearly disappointed in his commander. “A poor, mute, injured girl?”
Caleb nodded and signaled for one of the soldiers to bring his horse. “Yes, I know. There’s nothing you can say that could possibly make me feel any worse than I already do. I made a mistake, David, an enormous, possibly unforgivable, mistake.”
As Caleb climbed up into the saddle, David said nothing, and the king was thankful for his silence. David knew him well enough to realize it wasn’t necessary. There was nothing he could say that Caleb didn’t already know.
David waved goodbye, and Caleb rode off headed east into the darkness, his attendants and squires pressing their horses to keep up. Caleb was not usually a praying man, but under these circumstances, he said a quick request to St. Leonard, patron saint of prisoners.
Chapter 24
Rebecca’s roasted yams and wild game hen were delicious. While nothing compared to Caroline’s, considering all he’d eaten recently was a handful of berries, Matthew certainly could not complain.
Her mother was blind and deaf as the result of a high fever she had suffered a few years earlier. Rebecca had explained over dinner that though several suitors from nearby villages had asked her parents for her hand, she had declined their advances. She felt it was her duty to take care of her mother, particularly in her father’s absence. She was a sweet girl, and Matthew felt extremely welcome in their home.
He had mentioned his journey was a long one, and she had insisted that he spend the night. The little cottage had a loft overhead, the perfect place for him to rest in private. He had declined at first, eager to resume his journey, but she was insistent, and he finally accepted.
Following her up the narrow ladder to the small space, Matthew tried not to notice the curve of her hips. There were a few items that needed to be moved aside, an old bucket, a two-legged stool, but there was certainly enough space to spread a blanket, which she did. “I regret that I can’t offer you more comfortable accommodations,” she said apologetically. There was only one bed in the house, and Rebecca shared that with her mother now that her father was gone. The old woman was already tucked in and snoring beneath them.
“No, please, don’t apologize,” Matthew replied. “I’m so grateful for your hospitality.” Even if the floor was hard and the covers were scratchy, it was much better than the hollow log he had slept in the night before or the tunnel he had called his bed the night before that. In fact, this might just be his most comfortable night since his kidnapping.
Rebecca finished spreading the woolen blanket on the floor, leaving another for him to cover up with. “I don’t have an extra pillow, but when this was where I slept, I used this old dress.” She pulled the item from the corner and folded it up placing it at the top of the makeshift bed. “There. That should do.”
The ceiling was low, and Matthew couldn’t stand up straight. With one hand on the rafters, leaning to his right side, he was much closer to her height. As she turned to approach the ladder, Rebecca bumped into him, and he placed his free hand on her arm to steady her. “Pardon me.” Her words were soft, and he noticed her bottom lip trembled slightly as she glanced up into his face. The firelight from the room below illuminated her gray eyes, and he found himself caught in her gaze.
Rebecca was an attractive woman, and it had been so long since Matthew had felt the soft flesh of a woman’s body. As she stood looking at him, he couldn’t control himself. His fingertips trailed down her arm and around her back, finding the lengths of her blonde locks and twisting through them as she moved even closer to him. Thoughts of his wife entered his mind, and then of Angel. He wanted to honor Margaret’s memory and to be faithful to the woman who had sacrificed so much to help him escape. But Rebecca was here, and he could tell by her expression that she was willing, eager, to satisfy his cravings. She leaned into him, her body pressing against his as her hands rested against his chest. Closing her eyes, she turned her lips towards his.
Matthew brought his lips down softly to meet hers. He was gentle at first, but as Rebecca began to moan softly, his hands cupped her bottom, and he pulled her in tightly, his tongue exploring her mouth while her arms encircled his neck.
As he took Rebecca to the floor, fumbling with her dress, her hands on his belt, his only thoughts were of finally releasing the carnal desire he had repudiated for so long.
The carriage jostled about violently, more so than any time Katherine could remember. She was huddled on the floorboards, wrapped in her brother’s arms. Eleanora and her mother were hunched down in the seats, attempting to brace themselves against the jarring motion of the quickly moving coach, but it was most difficult, and they might have felt the pain from various bumps and bruises if they hadn’t been so completely terrified.
The alarm had come in the middle of the night. Katherine, the baby of the family, had been fast asleep, completely unaware of the impending doom surrounding the castle, her home. Her mother, Queen Deloris, had scooped her sleeping angel up into her arms, wrapped her in a blanket, and rushed her off to the waiting carriage. Eleanora and James had followed closely behind. Even as they entered the escape vehicle, they could see the first wave of soldiers from the Great Heathen Army swooping down upon the town’s people. It wasn’t until the carriage began to move that Katherine awoke from her pleasant slumber. She was confused at first, unsure where they were or what was happening. As the horses took off, she began to see flashes of light around her. She pointed them out to her big brother, smiling an enchanted smile as the sparks lit up the sky in hues of yellow, blue, and red.
James had held her tightly, and it wasn’t until she heard strange noises outside of the carriage that she became frightened. A group of guards rode along each side of the coach, and Katherine could hear the snarls and snorts of the horses as they ran, blazing away from the castle in a fury.
Katherine glanced up at her mother’s face. She was crying, clutching a handkerchief. Eleanora was also sobbing, clearly terrified of what might happen. James was doing his best to be strong. He continuously whispered in his baby sister’s ear, “It’s all right, Baby Katherine. We will be all right.”
But they were not all right.
The royal family was being moved to what should have been a safer location, a palace cut into the side of a mountain in the northern territory, known as Palace Olympia. To get there, the carriage had to travel through a thick forest. The road was narrow and bumpy, not meant to be traversed so quickly. They should have been relocated days ago, in the sunlight, before the invaders broke through the barricade at Waynes, but Deloris had insisted on waiting for her husband, King Jordan, to return. He had not made it in time, and his whereabouts were unknown. Her attendants had pleaded with her, begging her to take the children and go. Finally, she could wait no longer, and they had made their hurried exit.
By the time they reached the edge of the forest, arrows were flying by the carriage. They knew a legion of the Royal Army was stationed within the woods. If only they could reach them in time, perhaps they could provide enough protection to Deloris and her family so that they could make it to the safety of Olympia.
But the Heathen’s were gaining on them, and there were not enough guards to fight back. One by one, the riders began to fall. Katherine watched them topple off of their horses all around her. She hid her tiny face in James’s neck, praying that this was all just a horrible nightmare.
Suddenly, the carriage hit a rut, shuddering violently and then tumbling over onto its side. The horses were dragged down with it, the drivers thrown into the trees. Deloris knew she was on her own. Gathering up her children, she pushed her way out of the door, now facing upward, into the night. The Heathens were right behind them, slowed only by the carnage of the fallen guards. “Quickly,” she whispered. “We haven’t much time.”
Katherine could feel a trickle of blood running down her face as James handed her out of the carriage into her mother’s protective arms. Eleanora was out next and then James behind her. Deloris jumped to the ground, grabbing her tiny daughter off of the carriage, and reaching for Eleanora’s hand. The four of them took off into the woods on foot.
Deloris knew that her husband’s army must be nearby. She hoped that she would be able to hide her children in the trees and then attempt to locate help. However, the Heathens must have seen which way the queen went upon entering the forest. She could feel them close behind her.
The foliage was thick and full of brambles, which caught the children’s skin and clothing. It was a small advantage, however, because it prevented the Heathens from pursuing the royal family on horseback. Deloris could hear footsteps approaching. She quickly looked for a thicket to hide her children.
The barbarians were growing ever closer. She could hear their grunts and groans, practically feel their stale breath on the back of her neck. Just then, she saw an undergrowth that just might lend itself to her purposes. She directed her children beneath the branches, and they hurriedly did as instructed, despite the sharp thorns that poked their tender skin.
Katherine had never imagined anything so terrifying. Even in her worst nightmares, she had never felt like this. Her mother had her arms around all three of them, attempting to shelter them from the unimaginable evil that lay just on the other side of those thin branches. They collectively held their breaths, waiting, praying for the Heathens to pass them by. Heavy footsteps drew closer, then faded, repeating as more and more of the enemy approached their location and then disappeared into the night.
A cloud passed over the crescent moon, leaving them in pitch black. Katherine began to shake. She could barely see the face of her brother just an inch from her own. She watched as he silently brought a finger to his mouth, indicating that she must be quiet. She nodded her head, fully intending not to make a sound. As her eyes shifted back to the blackness before her, she suddenly saw one bone-white hand pull back the thin veil of brambles before her. Her hands flew to her mouth, attempting to hold back the scream that was forming in her throat, but just then, she glimpsed the most hideous face imaginable, pure evil in human form.
And she screamed.
The noise caused the Heathen to turn his head instantly in their direction. He had his crossbow ready, and he fired at the source of the noise. Despite the darkness, Katherine saw the arrow flying at her face, causing her to scream even louder. He had missed, however, or so she thought. She turned to hide her face in her mother’s gown only to realize the soft satin white fabric was now soaked in warm, sticky blood. She looked up to see that the arrow had landed squarely in her mother’s chest. As Deloris fell forward, gasping for breath and gargling blood, Katherine’s screaming stopped.
She had the same dream nearly every night. Sometimes the circumstances changed; sometimes she felt the arrow enter her own chest. Katherine had accepted that, inevitably, each time she closed her eyes for the rest of her life, she would find herself in this nightmare.
But this morning, the nightmare did not end when her eyes flew open. The first thing she noticed was the agonizing throbbing in her left hand. Even before she was fully awake, she could feel the ache from where her flesh had been scorched from her first two fingers. Her right arm, which had been resting on her head most of the night, was asleep and moving it even a degree caused pins and needles to shoot threw her entire limb. She knew she had deep bruises on both of her arms where she had been dragged. The area around her right wrist and both of her ankles was rubbed raw from the shackles. Even though she had jerked awake, startled by her dream, her mind would not let her come fully conscious, trying to protect her from the excruciating pain.
She was only partially aware of the rats that had been nibbling on her toes. Through narrowed and swollen eyes, she saw a puddle of blood on the floor and wondered absently if she were still dreaming. She drifted in and out of reality, her grogginess the only barrier from the state of shock threatening to overcome her at any moment. She had gone from the pampered life of a princess to the deepest throws of a dank, dingy dungeon in only a few days, and nothing could have prepared her for the stressful toll it put on her body and her mind.
Only a sliver of light illuminated the room, that coming from under the door at the entryway at the top of the long staircase leading to the gate. She had no way of knowing whether it was night or morning. She wasn’t even sure how long she had been down here, though she thought it had only been a matter of hours, not days, since Caleb had dragged her down the stairs and chained her here. Thinking of him brought her back to reality momentarily. She wasn’t sure if the warm splashes against her hands were drips from the ceiling or teardrops, and she wove her way back into the land of slumber where neither the physical or emotional pain of her ordeal was quite as sharp.
The sun was not yet on the horizon when Caleb finally reached the castle. Hendrix had given it everything he had, pressing on at the urgency of his master when any other horse would have given up. He’d left the rest of the detail in his dust and didn’t give it a second thought. As a squire in the courtyard of Castle Caine took the reins, Caleb jumped down, hoping his horse would recover.
He hurried into the fortress, not stopping to acknowledge the few individuals who were about, even though many of them called out greetings. He pressed on, flying down the hallway, down the back stairwell, finding the guard asleep at his post.
