Ossendar: Book Two of the Resoration Series (59 page)

They formed into a small group, with one of Keenan's soldiers leading the way. The guardians were in the middle of the group, with their hands loosely bound. They walked through the corridors, and each step brought a little more relief to each of them.

Derek carried a knife under the bottom of his shirt. He was fully prepared to use it on himself, if Keenan's escape plan failed. Under no circumstances, did he plan on going back into the torture room.

They walked for about ten minutes, down long corridors that twisted and turned, until finally they came around a sharp corner, and almost walked into the King's old councilor, Anton.

Anton was walking along the hallway, carrying a small stack of papers. His brow wrinkled in confusion. “Why are they being moved? Didn't the king give Ersha another day or two?” He completely ignored the soldiers, and spoke directly to Keenan.

Keenan nodded, “Yes sir, but there has been a change in plans.”

Anton cocked his head to one side, “Really? What's happened?”

Smiling, Keenan nodded to one of the soldiers, “You see, I have decided to set them free.”

Anton studied the prince for a moment, trying to discern what he meant. He was still trying to determine his meaning, when a soldier smacked him over the back of his head.

“Quick! Get him out of sight.”

Two of the soldiers jumped forward and picked the old man up. They hurried out of sight, down a small corridor off of the main hallway.

“Come on! We got to keep moving.” Keenan urged them along.

A few minutes later, they reached the main chamber. They came into the room, with the tunnel entrance off to their left. There weren't any guards on that doorway, but there were two directly across the room from them. They stood at attention, on either side of the far door. Derek was relieved to see that the doors were closed in front of the tunnel.

One of the guards shoved Trestus, “Keep moving,” he barked. Trestus shot a glare back over his shoulder, a glare that was only partially fake.

They marched the guardians to the tunnel entrance. The soldiers kept their gazes forward, but Derek sneaked a peak at the two guards. They were watching the group heading towards the tunnel, but they didn't seem overly interested. He jerked his eyes back to the front, when a guard shoved him hard in the back.

Two of the soldiers in the front of the group, each pulled open a door and held it for the group to go through, and then they followed, closing the doors behind them.

They moved upwards in the tunnel a short distance, and Keenan spoke. “Ceric. We're going up. Get your men in place.” He paused for just a moment, swallowing hard. “Good luck. I promise you, you won't be forgotten.” Keenan spoke to all of the soldiers, not just Ceric. He paused for another moment, and then turned to Derek and the guardians. “Come on.”

They walked upwards in silence, none of them felt like talking much. Derek wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel. On the one hand, he was ecstatic to be leaving this horrible fort, but he felt horrible for the poor men that were sacrificing themselves to help them escape.

They walked further up the tunnel, and more soldiers stopped at various points along the route. Orval stayed with the second group from the bottom.

They emerged from the tunnel, pushing open the two heavy doors that served as gates. It was early morning, and the sun couldn't have been up for more than an hour. Four guards stood there, they saluted as the guardians and soldiers emerged from the tunnel. Derek was surprised to see that the guards wore Keenan's colors. It made sense though; it made things easier, if Keenan's own men were on guard duty. He checked to see how many of the soldiers were still with them, and was surprised. Besides Keenan and the guardians, there were fifteen soldiers. He shivered in the early morning cold.

Keenan moved close to the guardians. “Okay. We have to get down the mountain as quickly as possible. We have horses waiting for us at the bottom; all we have to do is get there.”

“How about taking off our bonds?” Trestus asked.

Keenan shook his head, “No. There are patrols on the trails. We will almost surely meet soldiers on the way. It would look too unusual if you were untied.”

Derek nodded, “Okay. Let's go.”

Chapter 25

Heather greedily gulped down the water that the guard, Mel, offered her. The water was lukewarm, and it couldn't have been more than a mouthful or two, but it seemed like the single greatest thing she had ever tasted. Possibly because she hadn't had any water since about lunch time and it was now well past sun-down.

The caravan had continued to travel towards Mynar for the last week, and they were almost out of time. Late tomorrow, or early the next day at the latest, they would reach Mynar, and whomever it was that was offering a reward for her and her fellow guardians. That thought terrified her. The wagon drivers were bad enough, but she dreaded what would happen to them when they were turned over for the reward.

They were in the supply tent. They were always kept in the supply tent at night, tied up to stakes in the ground.

Aaron was still healing from the beating he had suffered when he had tried to escape, and his face was an ugly mottled brown. His attitude had recovered nicely, and although he hadn't tried to escape again, there was still fight in him. Heather had been relieved to see that he was getting back to his old self. He would have healed faster if he had been getting the appropriate amount of water and food.

Mikela was in good health, but Heather could see her spirits sinking day by day. There was a fear in her eyes that was troublesome; she was starting to give in to panic. She also expected something bad to happen when they reached Mynar.

Mel was just finishing replacing the gag in Aaron's mouth, when the flap on the far side of the tent opened, and Jefflem entered. Heather's heart started beating faster and she seemed unable to catch her breath. What the hell was he doing here? Wylon had expressly forbidden him being around the guardians.

Jefflem entered and walked smiling towards the prisoners. Well, he more sauntered than walked. He moved slowly, and stopped just in front of them, and leaned against a couple of crates. “Well, well. Look what we have here.”

Heather's pulse was racing, and she would have scooted away if she hadn't been tied to the floor. She never thought that she would have wished to see Wylon, but she was praying for him to come in now.

“You're early,” Mel grunted. “You wasn't supposed to be here until later.”

Jefflem shrugged, “Does it matter? My uncle rode ahead of the caravan; he won't be back for hours.”

Mel looked around at the guardians, and then he quickly pulled his eyes off of them. He turned back to Jefflem, and shook his fingers, “No marks. You hear me?”

Jefflem half nodded, “Yeah, yeah.”

Mel stepped up, right into Jefflem's face. “Now you listen to me.” His voice was low and dangerous, “If there are any marks on any of them, I will personally hand you over to your uncle.”

Jefflem's eyes narrowed, “Are you threatening me?”

Mel nodded, “Yes. Your uncle has made it quite clear what we are to do you, if you try anything with the prisoners. If there are any marks, then I will make sure he knows that you did it, and I will deny having anything to do with this.”

Jefflem opened his mouth to speak, but seeing the look on Mel's face, he closed it again with a snap.

Seeming satisfied, Mel looked around one more time, then quickly walked toward the tent flap. He lifted up the flap, and then paused and turned back towards the middle of the tent. “I'll just be right outside. Try to keep the noise down.”

Jefflum turned back to face the guardians, a disgusting smile playing across his face. “So, now what should we do the little bit of time that we have?”

Heather glanced at Aaron and Mikela. They were both watching her, concern and fear showing in their eyes. Concern and fear for her. Strangely, a cold calmness settled over her. Whatever happened, she would get through this. She pulled her eyes back to Jefflem, he was watching her and his smile had gotten worse.

“You know, I always knew that we were destined to be together.” He pulled a knife from his belt, and made a show of cleaning his finger nails. “I thought that perhaps you would choose to be with me on your own, but I guess this will have to do.” He straightened up, and began loosening the strings that held his shirt together. There was a muffled noise from outside the front of the tent. Jefflem paused, and half turned. After a moment, he shrugged, and started loosening his shirt again.

He stepped forward and laid his hand on Heather's leg. She tried to kick him, but her bonds were too tight, and he only laughed. He placed his hand on her left breast and squeezed, hard. Heather let out an involuntary groan and tried to pull away.

Jefflem laughed at her attempts to get away, she was after all tied up tight. Aaron and Mikela both were making an attempt to get his attention, but it was a little more than a quiet groan. However, their attempts did seem to bother him. He kicked out with his right foot, and caught a glancing blow off of Aaron's head. “Shut up!” He barked. “You're so covered with bruises that no one will notice any more.” He turned to Mikela, “And you had better be quiet too, or else you can be next, after I'm through with her.”

Jefflem turned back to Heather, “Now where was I?” Taking the knife, he began cutting her shirt. A tear ran down Heather's cheek. “Do you like this? I bet you do. You probably enjoy having your friends watch.” Pulling her shirt open, he began to cut at the top of her trousers.

There was a loud crash, and something crashed down on the back of Jefflem's head and he slumped forward.

Breathing hard, Heather turned her head trying to see what had happened. She started and tried to shrink back from the man who stood before her. How could this be? It simply wasn't possible. The last man she expected stood looking down at her. It was Enton. She was confused; she had thought that he was in Telur. She suddenly became suddenly aware of her shirt standing wide open, and Enton seemed very aware of it too. His eyes widened, and he quickly leaned down and covered her with the pieces of her shirt.

He smiled at her, “I'm sorry, but I didn't follow your orders. I know you ordered me back to Telur, but I just couldn't shake the feeling that you would need my help, sooner or later.”

More tears ran down Heather's cheek, but these tears were tears of joy. She almost would have kissed him at that moment, even with her shirt cut open.

Enton continued, “If you want, I'll go to Telur and submit myself for discipline.”

Heather frantically shook her head. She tried to speak, but of course the gag wouldn't allow it. What was he doing? Cut their bonds, quickly!

“Can you use my help, or should I leave?”

Heather wanted to strangle the man, but she caught sight of the half smile tugging at his mouth and her struggles ceased. He was playing with her! She would definitely kill him, and, oh, would she enjoy it.

Enton reached down and cut the gag off of her mouth, and then he rolled her over and cut her bonds.

Spitting the remains of the gag out of her mouth, Heather began rubbing her ankles and wrists. She almost cried as the feeling of sharp needles began running through her arms and legs. Looking around, she noticed Aaron and Mikela also rubbing their arms and legs, both of them had tears running down their faces. Aaron seemed relieved, but Mikela was just plain blubbering, at least she was doing it quietly.

“Enton, there's a guard outside.”

Enton shook his head, “Not any more.” He moved closer to Heather and leaned down. “We have to go soon; it won't be long until they discover what's happened.” He spoke quietly, for her ears only.

She stared up at him, disbelief and amazement plain on her face.

Enton sighed, “Listen, I didn't mean anything by what I said just now. I was playing with you, trying to be funny, but it was probably the wrong time completely.” He paused, waiting for her to say something, but she didn't. She just kept staring at him. “And I'm sorry for the way that I acted before. I was in the wrong, and I'm sorry.” He looked like a kid, a kid that had been caught stealing a sweet. “I don't apologize much; it's not really what I do.” He struggled for the words, “I was just so furious that I wasn't in charge. I felt insulted and I was wrong.”

Meek apologies were the last thing she expected from the massive warrior right now, but she would happily take them, although his words tugged at her insides. “Maybe you were right. Perhaps, you should have been in charge. At least then, we wouldn't have fallen into this trap.”

Enton shook his head, “No. This was a good plan. You just fell in with the wrong merchants, that's all.” He leaned back on his heels, “If I had been the leader, I would have been thrilled to have thought of this.” He shook his head again, “And you can't start doubting yourself. You must believe in yourself, or at least pretend to. As our leader, you can't show doubt.”

Heather's head whipped up, “As our leader?” She repeated, questioningly, putting emphasize on the word 'our'.

Enton nodded, and smiled a cautious smile. “If you will let me come back.”

Heather's head was spinning. Of all people, Enton was encouraging her and trying to motivate her. How quickly things had changed. Several weeks ago, Enton was the last person that she would have wanted to see, but now she was almost ready to bear his children.