in and the duke reluctantly released
her, always remembering to verbally
abuse her whenever she was in his
sight. Her last thoughts made up her
mind. If she stayed, he would
eventually rape or kill her. She’d seen
in it his eyes but never wanted to
accept the truth. But if she succeeded
in helping the princess, she had a
chance of a better life with her
siblings. First, though, she would have
to send her sisters away.
***
Varian had no intention of storming
Neren Castle to find Isolde. In fact, he
intended to walk into the castle, find
her, if their spies were correct and she
was the unknown woman behind held
therein, and walk out with her. It was
why he, along with a scattered group
of twenty Lytherian warriors, dressed
in the clothing of farmers, merchants
and noblemen, were currently walking
amongst the people of Neren. After
Vulcan had told him Jaisyn was
missing and he suspected she’d been
taken East, possibly to Neren, Varian
had immediately sent men to find
anyone with information. Two soldiers
had been willing to betray their lord in
return for a small fortune in Lytherian
gold. They spoke of a prisoner, a pale
female with shorn red hair, being held
in the uppermost tower of Neren
Castle. None were allowed to see her
but for the maid who attended her and
the soldiers who stood guard. When
they’d reported that to Varian, he’d
felt his blood boil and his temper,
which was normally the one thing he
had a good grasp on, surge.
It had to be Isolde, for who else
would Kegan go through such great
lengths to keep concealed? Not only
had he kidnapped a princess, he’d
disguised her by cutting off her hair!
Isolde’s long, beautiful auburn locks
had been cut short. Vulcan’s voice
had awakened him from his thoughts
and he’d coolly pulled himself
together, though doing so was
difficult, and thought up the current
plan. His brother had disagreed,
opting instead to storm the castle, to
bend the people of Neren to his will,
give Kegan the death of a traitor, and
retrieve Isolde before they headed
South to Sulan. Varian had asked for
three days in which he would find and
return Isolde to St. Ives Castle. If
those three days passed and he hadn’t
returned, Vulcan would march against
Neren as he wished.
The atmosphere in Neren was
mellow and Varian was surprised to
find that although there were soldiers,
Lytherian and Sulanese, patrolling and
training heavily in various parts of the
courtyard and fields, they were vastly
outnumbered by Vulcan’s massive
army. He’d been under the impression
that Kegan had the support of the
Sulanese, and with it, their armies.
Pushing that thought to the back of his
mind, he crossed the drawbridge and
circled the courtyard, his eyes
searching out the maid that would
help him find Isolde.
***
Iliana surveyed the sleeping guards
and the two tankards that sat on the
floors beside them. Empty. They’d
drunk it all, both the ale and the
potion she’d received from the
apothecary for a condition she did not
have: inability to fall asleep. She’d
been told it was a powerful potion and
only a drop was needed in any liquid
before she went to bed. She’d used
the entire bottle of potion on the two
guards. She was taking no chances.
She unlocked the door to the tower
and crept into the darkened chambers.
It was late in the night and she had no
doubt the princess would be asleep.
“Princess,” she whispered softly,
and then heard the shifting of bed
sheets
as
Isolde
came
awake.
“Princess, come. We must leave
immediately.”
***
Varian was not proud of what he’d
done to get the information, but he
would have done much more where
Isolde was concerned. A pretty maid
had painted a vivid picture in his head
on how to get to the tower, and had
even told him that a maid called Iliana
was the only one, outside of their lord,
with the key to it. That she’d been on
her back beneath him as she divulged
that information had barely registered
to Varian as he began to plot Isolde’s
escape. After giving the wench a few
coins for her enthusiastic services,
he’d had her point Iliana out and
under the cover of darkness, he’d
followed her.
Iliana left the castle with the other
servants who had homes in the town
but had barely been in her small
cottage an hour before she was
returning to the castle.
With the shadows as his ally, Varian
followed her. He went up the winding
staircase and waited in the shadows as
she opened a the tower door and
stepped in. He cautiously approached
the men sitting before the door, his
dagger in his hand, and found them
passed out on the ground. Shaking his
head, he’d looked to the tankards
lying beside them. Drunk. Luck was
smiling upon him. Without sheathing
his dagger, he pushed the door in.
***
Both women froze in horror as their
chances of escape vanished before
their eyes. Someone had found them
out. Iliana’s hand covered her mouth
to prevent the cry she would surely
have released and Isolde instinctively
moved closer to the vanity, upon
which lay a brush with a pointed
handle. The dim light from the
hallway cast the man in shadow
before he closed the door, locking
them all in darkness.
Isolde moved quickly, feeling on her
vanity for the brush, and then
whisking it up in her hands. She
brandished it before her like a
weapon.
“Allow us to pass, sir, and you will
be rewarded heavily by the High King
of the North.” Her voice shook
slightly, for her eyes could barely
make out anything in the dark
confines. She did not know where he
was. A firm hand grasped her wrist
and her only weapon was removed.
She felt her hopes fall an instant
before the man pulled her against him.
The crushing hug forced the air from
her lungs and she inhaled deeply. It
was then she knew who held her and
a cry erupted from her lips as she
threw her arms around his neck.
“Varian?”
His name was but a whisper on her
lips, but he felt real enough under her
fingers. This wasn’t a dream. Her
fingers clasped him tighter to her
body. She’d dreamt of him coming for
her during the weeks that she’d been
held in this place but had never
imaged it would actually happen.
“Isolde,” he breathed, and her name
on his lips sounded heavenly. One
hand came up to cup the back of her
neck and Isolde trembled at the
caress. This time, she wanted him to
kiss her. His hands moved through her
hair and a ragged groan erupted from
his lips.
Isolde blanched and tried to remove
his hand, feeling insecure without her
long locks. “They cut it but it will
grow back—”
Varian’s
lips
were
suddenly
brushing hers, merely a soft, fleeting
caress. “It matters not. You will
always be beautiful,” he said lowly,
and Isolde released a breath she did
not know she was holding.
Iliana interrupted with urgency.
“Princess, we must leave now. The
new guards will soon come.”
Varian pulled away from Isolde but
his fingers reached down and laced
through hers. He held her hand firmly.
“Are you fleeing with us, maid?”
Isolde answered immediately. “Yes,
Varian. She agreed to help me and I
intend to return the favor.”
Varian did not speak for seconds
before he addressed the maid. “Which
path from Neren is least guarded by
soldiers?”
“I can’t tell ye properly, milord, but
I can show ye,” Iliana replied
honestly.
Varian
nodded
before
pulling Isolde toward the door.
Iliana trailed behind them, knowing
by now her siblings would have
reached Holioak, the town which
housed the High Priestess Yanik. No
harm would befall them there. For the
first time in her life, the young girl was
hopeful.
Chapter 12
Under cover of night, Varian, with
Isolde before him on a midnight-black
stallion, and the maid—Iliana was her
name—seated before one of his
disguised warriors, rode from Neren.
Varian had notified one of the
warriors that they were to leave by
different routes, and meet before they
entered the thick forest that would
take them directly to St. Ives Castle.
They managed to leave Neren
without sounding any alarms. There
were barely any guards at the
southern exit and Varian and the
warrior accompanying him easily
slipped by. They met up with the rest
of their party and after making sure
that everyone was there, rode swiftly
onto the Lytherian City.
***
Isolde inhaled the smell of wet grass
and earth as she made herself more
comfortable in Varian’s arms. She
hadn’t been out in the open, hadn’t
left the prison cell of hers in days,
probably weeks and as the soft but
cool winds whipped against her face,
she released a sigh. She was safe.
Varian was with her. No one would
be able to take her again. As if sensing
her
thoughts,
a
muscular
arm
suddenly wrapped about her waist and
she was pulled even closer to him. No,
Varian wouldn’t allow anyone to take
her or hurt her again.
***
The ride from Neren to the city of
Lytheria was tiring. Varian didn’t say
a word as they rode and Isolde was
content to simply sit before him.
When they came to the front of the
castle, Isolde’s eyes widened in
confusion.
What
appeared
like
thousands of tents had been raised
feet away from the castle and the
riders had to navigate their way
through.
“Why are there so many tents?” she
found herself asking as the stallion
snorted softly and made his way
toward the castle.
Shifting slightly on the horse, Varian
lowered his head. “Vulcan has
brought his warriors from Morden.”
Eyes widening in confusion, Isolde
turned slightly on the horse, so that
she could look up at him. “For me?”
Varian’s eyes grew guarded. He
nodded once. “Yes, for you… and for
your sister.”
She had not heard him correctly.
“What? Which sister?”
They crossed the drawbridge and
were now in the courtyard. “Jaisyn
disappeared from Morden a few
weeks ago.”
If not for Varian’s hand holding her
upright, Isolde would have fallen from
the horse and knocked herself
senseless. Jaisyn was missing?
“Dear Lyria,” she muttered in fear,
wondering if her sister’s kidnapping
had anything to do with hers. She had
a feeling it did. “She must have been
taken against her will. What about
Mathilda? Is she safe?”
“Mathilda has been under heavy
guard
since
both
of
your
disappearances. She is safe at St. Ives
Castle.”
Isolde breathed a small sigh of relief
before her voice became panicked
once more. “And Jaisyn? Do you
know where she is? When are you
going for her?”
Unsure of how to reply, Varian
decided to take the vague way.
“Soon.”
“How soon?” Isolde countered,
wondering why the man was being so