Authors: ID Johnson
Katey didn’t bother to
stand or curtsey as he left either. She was nothing but a harlot turned kitchen wench to him now and she would be surprised if he ever spoke another word to her. If only there was something she could do to help—anything at all. But she could think of nothing. Reluctantly, she stood and walked towards the door. She would go change into her kitchen dress and see about helping Cook. At least she could be useful in that regard.
Though Caleb knew Noel was fully capable of seeing to the task at hand, he had spent enough time at home while Matthew wondered around in a forest somewhere. He determined to leave as soon as possible to ride back to Blackthorn and begin searching himself. He went off to search for Dale to let him know he was leaving him in charge of the forces protecting the castle. He would also have to stop by the kitchen and say good-bye to
Cook.
He was thoroughly disappointed in the result of his conversation with Rose. Perhaps it was that endearing quality he had noted earlier that mad
e him think that she would be able to come to his aide. When she smiled, it seemed like the whole world would find a way to right itself. But he knew that it was just an illusion, she was just another pretty girl, a loose one at that, and despite the way she made him feel when he was in her presence, she could not help him find his brother. At least she had attempted to make a sound while he was gone. That was something. He had considered asking her to try in front of him, just to be sure she could not do it, but he had determined to take her at her word. As long as she was doing everything within her power, how could he be angry with that?
When he met up with Dale, he was informed
that Noel has sent word of another day of minimal progress. He couldn’t believe how difficult it was proving to move a pile of rubble away from a doorway! Leopold’s cavalry was pushing farther south but every time his men attempted to engage them, they would disappear into the distance. By the time he was finally on his way to bid ado to Cook, his blood was boiling. He considered skipping it and going on without telling her he was leaving, but he thought better of it, knowing he would pay for it later. And then he heard a sound that sent him far past his breaking point.
***
When Katey arrived in the kitchen, Cook was busy doing what she did best—cooking. The older woman could tell from Katey’s expression that the conversation with Caleb had not gone well, though she didn’t look like she’d been crying quite as hard this time. She stopped her mincing long enough to embrace the girl, saying, “Now, there, there child. It will be alright. He’s a good man, you’ll see. He really is.” Katey had nodded. She thought he was, too, she had just met him in a period of his life when he felt out-of-control and overwhelmed by the responsibility of being in power. Katey could relate and she was hopeful that, someday soon, Matthew would be back where he belonged and she could reveal her true identity to Caleb and start their relationship all over again.
Today, however, was not that day.
It was an accident. It happened in the blink of an eye and it was no one’s fault. Cook crossed back over to the counter by the stew pot where she had been mincing meat. As she proceeded she said nonchalantly over her shoulder, “Rose, dear, could you hand me that pot.” Just as the words left her mouth, she realized her mistake and began to add, “It’s very hot.”
But it was too late. Katey had touched the pot with her bear hand.
Pulling her hand back, she began to scream in agony. She looked down at her fingers to see blisters forming and the skin beginning to sloth off. She squeezed them in reeling in pain, tears pouring from her eyes. She was actually gulping for air, wheezing and leaning back against the counter trying to steady herself.
Cook’s immediate reaction was to get her salve. She kept it in the cupboard near the fireplace. Katey was vaguely aware that
Cook was praying or cussing or both as she hurried to render aid. But she was not the first person to reach Katey. Despite her throbbing fingers, Katey heard Caleb enter the room before she saw him. Even through the veil of tears that impaired her vision, she could see that he was infuriated.
He grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to look up at him, “So, you can’t make a single, solitary sound then?” he demanded. She struggled against him, trying to free herself from his grip and get to
Cook, not just because she felt she would be protected there but because she was in desperate need of that salve. “How dare you lie to me!” he continued, holding her in place and pressing her up against the counter. She was shaking her head, no, trying to make him understand that she wasn’t lying, that she had no idea how she had done it, but he was not willing to listen to anyone at that moment, including Cook.
Cook
was trying to wedge her way between them, pleading with Caleb to release the poor girl, he was acting like a tyrant. But when he turned and looked at her with those icy eyes, even Cook flinched. “Stay out of this!” he commanded. He still had Katey by the arm and now he began to drag her out of the room and down the hallway. He could hear Cook behind him yelling his name but he had completely lost all self-control. He absolutely did not trust this woman now, she who had told him that she could not speak, that she knew nothing of Matthew’s whereabouts and then, just a few minutes later, let out the most bone-chilling scream he had ever heard.
Katey was silently gasping for air. The pain from her finger and her arms,
particularly where Caleb had ahold of her, was almost unbearable. He also had a large amount of her hair in his fist, which pulled her head back at a sharp angle and made it even more difficult to breath. She was terrified of where they might be going and equally as panicked over what he might do to her once they reached their destination.
Caleb’s anger had not lessoned by the time he reached the stairs leading to the dungeon.
She was fighting him trying to free herself from his grip. His patience had run out long ago and, so to ensure she could not get away, he looped his arm around her waste and dragged her down the stone stairwell. She continued to struggle, kicking and flailing, but he was much too strong for her, especially in her injured state and he was easily able to get her down the stairwell.
“Open the gate!” he yelled at the snarly little guard who stepped out from the shadows as he approached. He followed orders immediately, shocked
at the sight. Caleb sat her back down and dragged her the rest of the way into the cell. He pushed her up against the wall with one hand as he reached for the shackles with the other. By now, Katey had stopped resisting. She was out of breath, out of strength, panic-stricken.
Once he had her securely fastened to the wall, he leaned in
close to her face and said, “Let’s see how loud you can scream now!” He made his way out of the cell, kicking open the gate and slamming it behind him.
When he reached the doorway outside of the kitchen, Cook was standing there, still holding the salve. The look of utter disbelieve and disappointment on her face was enough to enrage him all over again.
She started to say something but as her mouth fell open, he screamed, “Don’t!” She physically jumped. “I am going to find Matthew. So help me, God, if it is the last thing I do, I am going to find Matthew. No one touches that whore until I get back. Do you understand?”
She slowly nodded, suddenly stricken mute herself.
***
Curled up with her knees drawn tightly against her chest, next to the mossy
stone wall, a puddle of mucky water beneath her, Katey eventually ran out of tears. But her body continued to spasm uncontrollably for several hours. One hand was shackled to the wall but the chain was long enough that she could sit with her arm resting on her head. The other hand was free but both ankles were shackled and the rusty metal began to bite into at her flesh. She heard the scurry of rodents nearby and this concerned her. Katey was not a fan of rats. She had heard plenty of horror stories about prisoners in dungeons. She tried to keep her mind occupied with other things, happy things, in an attempt to keep from panicking further. It would do her no good anyway. The prison guard was asleep outside of the gate and he had already proven to be of little help. She could not see any other prisoners either. She may as well have been left there to die.
There was little she could do to ease the pain in her fingers. She wasn’t sure if Caleb had purposely left the shackle off of her injured hand or if it was just one small shred of fortune in an otherwise hopeless situation. But at least she was able to keep pressure on her injury, whic
h seemed to help somewhat. She had also tried soaking it in the murky water. Though it brought a bit of relief at first, eventually it began to burn even more and she decided against it.
She began to pray. It was the only thing she could think of to do to occupy her
mind. She prayed for the pain to stop. She prayed for sleep that she might forget her present miserable circumstances. She prayed that Matthew was found safely so that he may be reunited with his wife and be home at last. And she prayed that Caleb’s anger would subside, that he would find a place of solace against the unrelenting strain of commanding an army at war, searching frantically for his missing brother, and carrying the weight of a kingdom on his shoulders.
Her prayers were working and she began to doze off.
As she lost consciousness, her mind was transfixed on one single solitary thought, “Please, Lord, please bring him peace.”
It took much of the day for Caleb to reach Castle Blackthorn. His horse, Hendrix, was an exceptional stallion, able to sprint for hours without tiring. Caleb was eager to meet with Noel and discuss a new strategy for attempting to locate Matthew.
He did everything possible to block Rose from his mind. He knew that, if he allowed himself to think about her at all, he would begin to regret his actions. He didn’t have time to wallow in remorse. Rather than holding an internal debate as to what was right or wrong in this situation, he simply occupied his mind with thoughts of what his next steps needed to be. How would he go about locating Matthew? Where should he place his lines of defense, should Leopold attack? Should he destroy what was left of Blackthorn or try to hold it?
And how quickly could he return Princess Katherine to Placidia?
Though he was able to distract himself to some degree, occasionally his mind would wonder off to the small redhead in the dungeon, the one he had placed there. Despite the fact that he had his reasons, ones he felt fully justified in at the time, the nagging sensation in his mind was beginning to grow.
***
Matthew had been walking for several hours that day. He had found some berries and, while that helped fight the hunger a bit, he began to dream of a nice, thick slab of ribs. Just as his mouth began to water, her heard a noise in the ravine below him. He dropped to the ground, thankful that he was able to find cover.
Peering over the rocky hillside, he was able to see Arterian cavalry approaching from his right. There was a group of four of them. They were riding slowly, clearly looking for someone—looking for him. A wave of relief washed over him, and he started up, to signal to them.
As he clamored to his feet, another noise caught his attention and he dropped back down. This time it had come from the hillside across the way, to his right. “Son of a bitch,” he whispered, realizing it was another group of cavalrymen, but these were not Arterians, no, these were Leopold’s men. They were also clearly looking for him.
The Gradenians were closer to his location. There was no way that he could reach the Arterians without being taken captive by Leo
pold’s forces. Even if he was able to somehow gain the attention of his countrymen, the larger band of Gradenians would take notice as well and a battle would ensue. The Arterians were outnumbered and by the looks of things the enemy had more weapons, larger weapons. He lay perfectly still, calculating his next move. Perhaps the Gradenians would see the Arterians and pull back. Or maybe they would ride on. However, the Arterians seemed to be changing directions, beginning to move away from him. If he was going to get their attention, he had better do so quickly. He was contemplating the possible risks, concluding that there would be better, safer ways to reach Arterian forces, when he heard footsteps behind him.
He rolled over to see the cusp of a bonnet coming in to view. The young woman didn’t see him at
first, she was watching her step, trying not to topple down the rocky hill. When she finally looked up, her eyes grew large with fear. Matthew put his finger over his mouth, signaling for her not to scream, but he could tell by her expression that he was too late.
Just as the shriek began to exit her mouth, he leapt at her, catching her around the shoulders, placing his hand over her
face to stifle the scream, and knocking them both down the hill. This side was not as steep as the other and they only rolled a short distance. When they came to rest, he was on top of her, his hand still securely over her mouth. She was sprawled beneath him, her clothes disheveled and her blond hair strung out in every direction. The basket she had been carrying had lost its contents, which now littered the side of the hill.
He could tell by the absolute look of terror in her eyes that she was either going to scream or cry once he released his hand. Even with the firm pressure of his palm against her open mouth, tears were streaming from the corners of her eyes. He didn’t know if the cavalries had heard the commotion or not but he did not hear the noise of hoof beats ascending the other side of the hill. He believed they had been undetected but he was not taking any chances and so he kept his hand securely in place.
“Shhh!” he whispered. “Listen, I’m so sorry if I hurt you or frightened you. There’s cavalry just on the other side of that crest. I was afraid for both of us. Please, be still.”
The look of horror did not subside from her eyes but she nodded her head, as if she understood. Her eyes darted from the top of the ravine to his face and back several times, as if she weren’t sure which was more dangerous.
After a few moments, he began to loosen his grip. She did not call out so he thought it might be safe to let go. She began to nod her head, as if signaling that she would not make a sound. Eventually, he removed his hand, rolling off of her.
“There, are you alright?” he said quietly. She was a pretty girl, dressed in a simple frock, though she now had leaves in her long blond hair and
her clothing was still in disarray.
She sat up, righting her dress and cloak, glancing around at her belongings, which were now strewn about the hillside. “Yes,” she replied in a quiet tone. “I’m fine.” She began to collect her things, mostly foodstuffs and herbs, the kind one used for medicinal purposes.
“Here, let me help you,” he whispered. He crawled up the hillside, trying to stay as low as possible, collecting the items that she was not able to reach. He placed them back into her basket and she made one more quick look around to make sure she had everything before securing the lid.
“Thank you,” she whispered, still sitting approximately where she had landed. She had a sharp nose and chin and her eyes were almost gray. Despite the oddness of her features, he immediately thought she was quite pretty. He smiled at her politely, holding her gaze for a moment before she blushed and looked away.
“Let me see if we are safe to continue on our ways, “ he said after a moment. Stooping low, he crawled back to the top of the hill. He could see the Gradenian cavalry far in the distance riding the other direction. The Arterians had disappeared completely. He was disappointed to have missed out on this opportunity but at least he had not been recaptured and no one had been injured. He stood and made his way back down the slope.
“It looks like they are gone,” he said. He offered her his hand and she accepted. He pulled her to her feet and helped her collect her basket. “Again, I’m so sorry for having startled you,” he apologized.
She nodded her head, “You certainly did,” she said beginning to chuckle. “My goodness, I was terrified!” she admitted laughing.
He joined her in finding amusement at the situation. “A thousand pardons, my lady
,” he said bowing low to the ground, humorously. He joined in her laughter, glad to have a moment of pleasantries.
“Well, I must be going,” she said. She paused expectantly, as if waiting for his name.
“Andrew,” he replied. “My name is Andrew.” He wanted to trust her but knew it was not a good idea. She needn’t ever know she had met the King of Zurconia. “And you are?”
She smiled shyly and giving a little curtsey replied, “Rebecca.”
He reached for her hand and she gave it to him, both continuing the charade of formality as they found it amusing. He kissed the back of her hand gently. “Lovely to meet you, my lady.”
“The pleasure is all mine, kind sir,” she giggled.
After a moment, the laughter turned to awkward silence. “Alright, then,” Matthew bemused, “Good day, Miss. I am off to find a bite to eat!” He lingered for a second before starting to go, hoping she would offer some assistance.
She did, “Oh,” she gasped, “Are you hungry? I was just returning home to prepare the noon meal. Would you care to join us? My home is just over the ridge
there, in those woods.”
Matthew was starving. Of course, he would love to join the sweet Rebecca. However, he had to proceed with caution.
“I would hate to impose on your family,” he said, prying for more information.
“Oh, it’s no imposition,” she assured him. “My invalid mother awaits my return. My father enlisted in the royal army several months ago and we have heard no word from him since that time. We would love the company.” Despite the circumstances in which they had met, Andrew had a kind face and gentle eyes. She
did not fear him. After all, he had saved her from walking right into the Arterian cavalry.
It did not take much to convince him and Matthew heartily agreed to join her. “My lady,” he said offering her his arm.
She giggled and locked her arm in his, leading him off to the little cottage in the woods.
***
Noel was not present when Caleb arrived at Blackthorn. He sent a rider out to fetch him and made his way to the tent his commanding officer had established as headquarters. They were unsure how stable the castle was and with the good weather, Noel had chosen to keep the men out in the courtyard, rather than in the insecure structure.
Caleb poured over Noel’s maps of the region and his notes as he awaited the commander’s return. He was there for an hour or so before his lanky colleague pulled open the tent flap. “Your Highness,” he said, extending a hand but then pulling his friend into an embrace. Though it had only been a few days since they had seen each other, they were not used to being apart and both of them were glad to be reunited.
“How are you?” Caleb asked, pausing from his examination of the paperwork to look his right-hand-man in the eye.
Noel shrugged. He looked almost as tired and bewildered as Caleb felt. “I just, I don’t understand why this is so difficult,” he replied. “I feel that our men have covered every nook-and-cranny of the entire territory from Blackthorn west and north. We’ve even started searching down here,” he said, pointing to a location on the map just south and west of the castle. “It’s almost as if he is playing hide-and-seek with us.”
Caleb nodded. “How many men do we have in the field?”
Again, Noel gestured at the map. “I sent William’s division here, to hold this line, in case Leopold becomes serious about entering the fray. But Sandy and Hawkins are positioned here and here. Their men are spiraling out from these central locations. I’ve given them specific instructions to be extremely thorough as they comb the area. If there’s a trace of Matthew, we should be able to find it.”
Looking at t
he divisions and doing the math in his head, it looked as if there were more than enough men to cover the ground thoroughly. “Perhaps,” Caleb considered, “perhaps we are moving too slowly. Is it possible that Matthew has traveled more quickly than our forces and he is now out of the region we are searching in?
Noel stroked his chin considering the possibility. “It’s possible, I suppose,” he agreed. “I’m really not sure at this point.”
“And where are the sentries?” Caleb asked looking back at the map.
Pointing to several positions on the map, Noel indicated their location.
“How many?”
“Six separate stations, spread out across this area, ten men at each station, covering all major roads and thoroughfares. Reinforcements behind them.”
Caleb knew his brother very well. He knew he would be cautious, perhaps too cautious. “Let’s add some more men. In fact, let’s create a solid line, from this point to this point. I want a man every ten feet, within eyesight of each other. We’ll have two shifts so that they get enough rest. That way, if and when Matthew attempts to cross back through this area, here, west of the Lowetian Forest, we’ll be sure to see him.
“ The line that the king indicated stretched from south of Blackthorn all the way down to the border of Clovington. The area south of Clovington was a region known as Desolatia. It made the swamps of Lowetia seem pleasant and not at all hindering. Desolatia was the northern most region of the Kingdom of Dawncee, a peaceful port kingdom that kept to them. There would be no reason for Matthew to cross into Desolatia so Caleb knew they would not miss him by ending their line at the border.
“And what if, by chance, he is headed through this area?” Noel asked, gesturing at the map. He indicated the area north of Blackthorn, the hilly region currently crawling with Gradenian cavalry. “I have a few details actively searching but, from the map, it didn’t seem possible that he could be this far north.”
Caleb agreed. “Surely, he’s further south. But, at this point, I cannot explain why we have not found him.” He looked at the number of troops he still had available both at home and in the area near the forest. “Let’s pull Owens from here and move him here,” he said pointing to the area between Blackthorn stretching east towards the Zurconian border. “We still have reserves at Caine. I will send them to replace Owens’s men. I would rather have the more experienced troops out in the field.”
Noel studied the plans and nodded his agreement. “Very well,” he said. “I will see to it.”
Caleb stepped back from the map, still staring at it, wishing that, if he stared intently enough, perhaps he would be able to see his brother appear on the parchment.
“No help from any of the prisoners then?” Noel asked curiously.
“No,” Caleb answered sharply, not wanting to think about any of the prisoners just now.