Capture (11 page)

Ryneq’s bored expression didn’t falter as Hatak pulled out his knife and ran the blade across the palm of his own hand. Blood rose to the surface, pooling at the edges of the cut before trickling out over the skin. Hatak grinned as he raised his hand to his mouth and licked at the blood. “I bet he’ll be begging to take us there himself by the time I’m finished with him.” Hatak pushed off the wall and walked closer, turning his knife over and over in his fingers.

“Yes, Hatak. But I want the truth.” Seran stepped in front of him, blocking Hatak’s path. “If I let you near him, I’ve no doubt he’ll say anything to get you to stop.” Hatak scowled, but returned to lean back against the wall. “If you tell us where she is, Ryneq, maybe I’ll let her live and take her for my own wife,” Seran said, turning around to face Ryneq again. “If you continue to refuse, then when we eventually find her—and believe me, it’s only a matter of time—I’ll give her to my men to let them do as they please with her.”

Ryneq was up and out of his chair before anyone could stop him. He rammed into Seran, knocking him back against the wall before the two soldiers pulled him off and threw him back onto the chair. The tip of a sword pressed against his throat as he struggled to get his breath back. Deep down Ryneq knew they were bluffing, because if they thought they could find her on their own, he’d already be dead. But that knowledge didn’t stop his heart from pounding furiously as he forced the images from his mind.

“If you think you can bait me into killing you, Ryneq, you’re wrong.” Seran straightened his clothes and grinned. “You have far too much information in that head of yours, and we’ll take great pleasure in extracting it, one piece at a time.”

Ryneq swallowed thickly. He wanted to tear them all limb from limb and watch them die as painfully as possible. But the sword pressed into his skin—hard enough to draw blood this time—forced him to accept the fact that he was in no position to do anything.

And he hated it.

He balled his hands into fists, his nails digging painfully into his palms, and willed himself to calm down. He would rather they killed him now than risk telling them anything about Torsere, Cerylea, or the elves. Despite what Seran said, Ryneq was sure he could force their hand and have them end his life. But he’d made a promise to his sister to do whatever it took to stay alive, and he would honor that promise for as long as he was able. But he would die before telling them where she was—promise or not.

Seran walked forward and pushed the sword away from Ryneq’s throat, but he replaced it with a dagger of his own. “I’ll ask you again, Ryneq.” He reached out and grabbed Ryneq’s chin, forcing him to face forward. Ryneq didn’t bother to struggle. He knew the Rodethian soldiers were just waiting for an excuse to attack him. “Where. Is. Cerylea?”

Ryneq shrugged his good shoulder, ignoring the sweat that trickled down his back and the fear threatening to claw its way out. “I don’t know. She disappeared during the fight.”

Seran sighed angrily and shook his head. “Take him back to his cell.” He motioned to the same two guards who had dragged him in there. “You have one night to think this over, Ryneq. After that, I won’t be asking so nicely.” He turned on his heel and exited the room, with Hatak following after him.

Ryneq watched them leave, wondering what had just happened. He’d expected them to try and torture the information from him there and then, or at the very least rough him up a little. But they’d just left. Not that he was complaining. His head and shoulder hurt enough as it was. He didn’t need any other injuries. It seemed odd, though, and from the look of disappointment on Hatak’s face, he’d thought so too.

The two soldiers dragged Ryneq back to his cell and threw him onto the bed, jarring his shoulder and making him cry out. He shut his eyes tight against the pain, ignoring the mocking laughter as they left and locked the door behind them.

R
YNEQ
FELL
into an exhausted sleep not long after the soldiers left, and by the time his eyes flickered open again, it was dark. He pushed himself into a sitting position and carefully shifted back until he could lean against the cell wall. His body still ached, especially his shoulder, but his head wasn’t pounding quite so much anymore.

His tongue felt thick and dry in his mouth, and Ryneq realized that he hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since that morning. The moon was bright, almost full in the night sky, and it provided just enough light through the small window for Ryneq to see a little. He didn’t have any food, but at some point the guards had left a pail of water and a cup next to his bed.

He groaned, his mouth feeling drier than ever as he eyed the water and could almost taste it. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, watching where he put his feet so as not to knock anything over. It hurt to bend forward and scoop up the cup, but the pain was worth it. Ryneq brought it to his lips and sighed after the cool liquid had soothed his thirst.

The palace would know he was missing by now. His men would no doubt have searched the forest. They had probably found his horse and would realize that either the Rodethian or Athisian soldiers had taken him prisoner. If Nysad had done his job, then Cerylea should be hidden away, safe from Seran and Hatak.

That left Eldin in charge. The lead dragon rider had a good head for command. Ryneq had every confidence that his men would be in good hands until it was safe for Cerylea and Nysad to return. He wasn’t stupid. He knew there was very little chance of getting out of this alive. Even if he told Seran and Hatak everything they wanted to know—even if he gave them Cerylea—they would never, ever, let him go.

Ryneq sighed and pulled himself slowly up until he could just about see out of the small window. If Eldin had sent out a scouting party to look for him, which was what he would expect, and if they had traced him here, then he was confident that Eldin would see that any rescue attempt was useless. If Ryneq was being held where he thought he was, then the castle was impossible to attack without being seen—built high up on a smallish outcrop of land that backed onto the river. The water had eroded the land around it over the years, and all that joined it to the mainland now was a thin strip no more than ten feet wide.

The castle was old, but Ryneq knew, from his limited view of it, that most, if not all, of the castle was still standing. The elevation gave those inside a clear view all around, and any rescue attempt would be stamped out before it even began.

Ryneq knew Seran was going to have him tortured tomorrow, or today—he had no idea what time it was. He had many secrets to give up and Hatak no doubt had some very persuasive methods for getting people to talk. Ryneq wasn’t scared of the pain. He wasn’t looking forward to it, either, but that’s not what had his hands trembling with fear. No. Here, alone in the dark, he could admit that he was terrified of not being able to keep the secrets inside, of revealing something of vital importance in a moment of weakness. He was afraid of not being strong enough to keep his sister safe, no matter how much he wanted to.

Ryneq stared out the window until the first rays of sunlight began to chase away the night. With one last look, he turned and lowered himself back onto the bed, waiting for them to come for him and praying that he wouldn’t break.

S
ELENE
DIDN
’
T
wait around for Nykin to finish putting Fimor’s harness away, disappearing back into the passageway as soon as she’d delivered her message.

“Fimor?”
Nykin collected the dangling ends of the harness and hooked them carefully up on the wall.
“Fimor? Are you there?”

“Yes, Nykin. I’m here.”

“
Did you hear? They’ve found Ryneq
.” Relief flooded through him at the thought. His hands shook a little as he secured the last bits of the harness, his eagerness to get down to the palace making him clumsy.
“I heard that they knew where he was, Nykin, not that they’d found him.”

Nykin paused in the doorway to the storeroom.
“What’s the difference?”

He sensed Fimor sigh through their connection.
“If they’d found him, he’d be on his way home by now.”

“But surely—”

“Just go, Nykin. Eldin will explain everything.”

“Fimor?”

“Hurry. Time is of the essence.”

Nykin shook his head in confusion but did as Fimor suggested and virtually ran through tunnels to the entry of the Eyrie. It appeared almost deserted now, and Nykin rushed over to the top of the steps, taking them two at a time as he made his way down. He didn’t understand. Selene said they knew where Ryneq was. If that was the case, surely they just needed to go and get him back. He couldn’t believe they wouldn’t attempt a rescue, even if he were being held in Rodeth or Athisi. He was the King of Torsere, and his men would lay down their lives for him.

Nykin skidded to a stop in front of the large doors of the great hall. He slipped inside and tried to ignore the fact that everyone turned to stare at him. Eldin stood by the table in the middle of the group of dragon riders and palace guard, his hand hovering over a map. Nykin looked around. He couldn’t see Cerylea or Nysad anywhere, but before he had chance to ask anyone about it, Eldin began to speak.

“Nice of you to join us, Nykin.” He gave Nykin a hard look and returned his attention to the map. “As I was saying, the scouts followed the trail here.” He tapped somewhere on the map, but Nykin was too far away to see. “Just over the Rodethian border, at… Risvery.”

A hush settled over the assembled group as Eldin let that piece of information sink in. “To attempt a rescue on the old castle at Risvery would amount to a suicide mission.”

Nykin was stepping forward before he even realized it, pushing his way to the front of the riders. “We’ve got to try, though. We can’t just leave him there!” Eldin opened his mouth to answer, but Nykin didn’t give him chance. “When Princess Cerylea and Captain Nysad return, they’ll want—”

“
Nykin
!” Eldin’s fist slammed down onto the table, forcing Nykin’s mouth to snap shut midrant.

“The princess hasn’t returned to the castle. Captain Nysad was under orders to take her somewhere safe if we were attacked, and hopefully that’s where they are now.” He hissed it through gritted teeth, as though he felt he shouldn’t have to explain this to Nykin because it was none of his business. And when Nykin stopped and thought about it rationally, it really wasn’t. Eldin was the highest-ranking soldier at the palace now, and all Nykin needed to know was what his orders were.

“Yes, sir.” Nykin bowed his head and took a step back, embarrassed at speaking to Eldin like that in front of everyone.

The look on Eldin’s face softened as he watched Nykin step away from the table. “I know that everyone wants to get the king back.” He didn’t add
alive and in one piece,
but they were all thinking it. The Athisian leader was notorious for his painful interrogation techniques, and Nykin shuddered at the thought of Ryneq being at their mercy. “But he wouldn’t thank me for saving
his
life at the expense of the lives of his men. In fact—” Eldin sighed heavily and rubbed a hand over his face “—he left me with strict orders not to let that happen.”

Nykin’s fists clenched at his sides, his mind flooded with images of Ryneq’s soft smile and teasing tone from when they’d last been in the landing caves together. Although both had been fleeting, Nykin felt his chest ache at the thought of not seeing either of them again. He was reluctant to question Eldin again, but the need to say something—to ask if they were going to obey Ryneq’s orders—was making him fidget and shift about on the spot.

Clearly Eldin had noticed, because he fixed Nykin with a pained expression. “You have something to say, Nykin?”

Nykin swallowed thickly. “Are we going to follow the king’s orders, sir?” Nykin’s gaze stayed fixed on Eldin, but he could see the others casting curious looks between the two of them, everyone eager to know the answer.

“No, Nykin.” Eldin smiled wryly, and the ache in Nykin’s chest lessened just a little. “We are not.”

The whole room erupted into loud whispers as riders and soldiers began discussing possible ways of rescuing Ryneq. Eldin let it go on for a couple of moments as he spoke to the highest-ranking soldier of the palace guard, then called for quiet. “We need to formulate a rescue plan, and when we have one, I will be asking for volunteers. This will be dangerous, and there’s a strong possibility that some of those going on it will not return. I don’t expect—”

“I’ll go.” Nykin stepped forward again to interrupt, but this time there was nothing but pride on Eldin’s face as he looked at Nykin.

“Very well, Nyk—”

“Me too.” Selene grinned at Nykin as she stepped up beside him. After that there was a chorus of similar responses as the whole room volunteered to rescue Ryneq.

Eldin cleared his throat, and the room fell silent again. “I’m sure the king would be honored to know how brave and loyal his people are.” He smiled, looking over at his riders, and Nykin could see his chest swell and his back straighten. “Nykin,” Eldin said, a little softer this time, “since you are so eager to go and retrieve the king, you and Selene will join us and help us with the plan.” Nykin and Selene both moved over toward the table while Eldin addressed the other riders. “For now, please go back to the Eyrie and wait for further instructions. But be ready to go at a moment’s notice.”