Ossendar: Book Two of the Resoration Series (58 page)

Derek slammed his fist on the bars, “Leave her alone!” He shouted at the fat man, whose name was Rastin, “Or so help me..”

“What?” The Rastin asked. “What will you do?” He moved nearer and stood beside the table where Orval lay. “Are you going to hurt me?” He mockingly asked. He motioned to the table, “Your turn will come, and will see how well you'll do.”

Derek opened his mouth to retort, but snapped it shut when the door opened. For a moment, he was afraid that Ersha had returned already. That irritated him, he wasn't afraid of the man, but the things that this man enjoyed doing made his sick to his stomach. However, the man that entered was not Ersha, it was Prince Keenan. He entered the room, stopped, and looked around.

The assistants stopped working and turned toward Keenan, including the fat assistant that had been taunting Derek. “My lord. What can we do for you?” Rastin asked.

Keenan's turned his gaze on Rastin, and young man seemed to shrink under the intensity. “Where is Ersha?” Keenan demanded in a commanding tone.

“My..My Lord, he left for a short while. He should be back soon.” Rastin stumbled over his words.

Derek gripped the bars of his cell in a death grip. What was Keenan doing here? If he had come to order one of the guardians on the table, then he was early, Orval's demonstration was supposed to last through tomorrow. He grimaced, he wasn't actually wishing to prolong Orval's torture, but it sure felt like that was what he was doing. He swallowed hard, apprehension twisting his stomach muscles.

Keenan turned, and for the first time, Derek noticed several armed men were with him. “Proceed,” was all he said, but apparently it was enough. The soldiers sprang into action. In a blur, the soldiers had the three assistants pinned against the far wall, a knife resting on each of their throats.

A soldier closed the door, and there was movement out in the hallway. Derek could see more soldiers outside the door.

“Keep quiet, and my men will not hurt you.” Keenan said in a very subdued voice. A single glance was all he spared for Rastin and his fellows, and then Keenan moved over to stand near Derek's cell.

Everyone but the soldiers was watching Derek and Keenan, even Kara had left her spot near the wall and was watching intently. It was the first time that she had quit staring at the wall in several days.

Keenan regarded Derek for several moments before he spoke. His eyes seemed to measure Derek, and it was like he was seeking something. “You swear to me that you will help my people? You will have this curse removed from them?” He spoke quietly, and gone was the controlled and regal voice. He spoke now in a hushed and almost pleading tone. “I am taking a huge risk here. If you fail me there will be no one to help me or my people.”

Derek's eyes filled with tears, and he had to swallow several times before he trusted himself to speak, he even felt weak in the knees. “I will do everything to help, both you and your people. I submit my life to it.” He reached between the bars and grasped Keenan's arm. “I swear it!” His heart was pounding, and an almost irrational fear threatened to take hold of him. He was hoping silently that this wasn't another way to torture them. It would be a horrible thing to do, offer them some hope, and then rip it away.

The prince didn't respond immediately, but instead watched Derek closely. It was like he was looking for any sign of betrayal or deception. Finally, he seemed convinced. He didn't say anything, he just nodded. After a moment, he turned away from Derek's cell. “Get the keys and get these cells unlocked.”

Rastin gasped at Keenan's command, “My Lord, What are you doing?” He spoke quietly, a knife brushing his bobbing throat.

Ignoring the fat assistant, Keenan turned to the torture table. Orval had regained consciousness sometime over the last several minutes. He watched the prince with a mixture of hate and fear. “What are you here to do?” He asked, and Derek realized what the fighter must be thinking. He had to assume that Keenan was here to finish the task that Ersha had started.

Keenan did not immediately speak, but instead studied the poor man lying on the table. His expression was one of disgust. “I'm taking these four,” he motioned towards the four cells, “And we're trying to escape.” A soldier stepped in front of Kara's cell, and Derek clearly heard keys rattling in the lock.

Hope blossomed in Orval's eyes, “Take me with you! Please! I'll do anything.” His voice carried a pleading begging tone.

Keenan stepped closer and placed a hand on Orval's arm. Orval involuntarily tried to flinch away, but the bonds restrained him. “I cannot.”

Panic and fear flooded back into Orval's eyes, “Please! Don't leave me here with them! I beg you!”

Keenan nodded and patted Orval's arm, “I would take you with us, but it wouldn't matter. You are in bad shape, and you would be dead after several days of traveling.” He paused, trying to choose his words, “And you would only slow us down.”

Anger briefly sprang into Orval's eyes, but it was quickly replaced with something else, hope. “Kill me then. Please! I can't take any more of this.” His words came out in a croaky tone; his throat sore from screaming.

“That is the least that I can do,” Keenan agreed. He began loosening the restraints as he spoke. “But perhaps there is a way that you could die more honorably, striking back at the people that did this to you.”

The soldier with the keys finally reached Derek's cell. All the while the soldier was unlocking the door, an irrational panic was surging in Derek. Once the door was unlocked, he was free. Nothing could stop that from happening now, and regardless of whether or not they escaped, he was determined not to be captured alive again. But it was taking forever for the soldier to unlock the door. His breathing was fast and shallow, and it wouldn't slow down no matter how hard he tried. He gripped the bars with a death grip, his knuckled turning white. Finally, the soldier got the lock unlocked and pushed the door open. Derek stumbled through the door, his emotions unexplainable. Relief surged through him, and an absolute determination gripped him; a determination to escape or die in the attempt. Kara rushed over and hugged him, tears running down her cheeks. Derek kissed her on the forehead, swaying a little as he did, and then moved closer to listen to Keenan and Orval.

Orval's restraints had been loosened, and he was sitting up on the edge of the table. He looked horrible and seemed on the verge of vomiting. After a moment, he seemed to get control of himself; he looked at Keenan and shook his head, “I can't. Even if I agreed, I would be of no use to you.”

“Agreed to what?” Derek asked, moving up to stand next to Keenan. “What are you asking him to do?”

Keenan glanced at Derek and then back to Orval, he barely acknowledged Derek's question. “Orval, listen to me. We brought a couple of potions with us. They will allow you to ignore the pain, and use your hands and feet for the most part.”

Orval lifted his poorly bandaged hands and waved them in Keenan's face. His hands were a mess; the grimy bandages were poorly wrapped and red with blood. “What possible good could I be to you in a fight?” His voice got louder with indignation.

“A fight?” Kara's voice asked from just behind Derek, causing him to jump slightly. “You can not possibly expect him to fight in his condition!” She too was angry and her tone betrayed it.

Keenan glanced around at the guardians, and sighed. “We don't have time to discuss this.” His eyes had a dangerous light in them and his face wore a grim expression. He was not used to explaining his orders, and he obviously did not like it. His tone was low and angry, “If we get out of this fortress, we will be running for our lives. He would only slow us down.” His tone softened and he looked directly at Orval, “He would slow us down for a day or so, and then he would surely die.”

“He could recover from his wounds!” Kara responded angrily. Fury played across her face, and made her left eyebrow twitch in irritation.

Keenan nodded, “Yes, he could, if he was allowed to rest and have his wounds treated. We will be running for our lives. We will not be able to treat his wounds the way they will require. In his condition he will not survive more than a day or two.”

Kara opened her mouth, but Orval spoke first. “He is right. I would not survive the attempt, and I would only keep you from escaping.” He tone was resigned as he watched Kara, “I thank you for your concern, but I can not be responsible for you being brought back to this place.” He motioned around the room. “I would not wish this on anyone.” He spoke quietly in a defeated tone. Keenan handed a large glass to Orval, the glass was filled with a cloudy liquid. Orval turned his head to regard Keenan, after a moment, he drank the potion and then asked, “What do you want me to do?”

Keenan was silent for a moment, studying the swordsman. Finally, he nodded, “The only way in or out of the fortress is through the long tunnel.” He glanced over at the guardians, “You know the one we came through when we arrived.” They nodded, and he continued, “I have had several of my men rig parts of the tunnel to collapse, but I want to delay that as long as possible. When the tunnel collapses, it will raise the alarm.” He paused again, seemingly trying to decide how to phrase the rest of the plan. “I have some of my guards who have volunteered to hold the tunnel. I will close the doors at the top when we have left, and that should be enough to muffle the sounds of the sword fight.”

“But what about your guards that are in the tunnel?” Kara interjected quickly.

Derek didn't need to see Keenan's quick shake of the head to know that those guards were volunteering on a suicide mission. He glanced around at the men that Keenan had brought with him, wondering how many of them were volunteers.

Orval nodded, “So you want me to help hold the tunnel?”

“Yes,” Keenan answered nodding. “My men will have several locations in the tunnel where they will make a stand.” He motioned to a soldier standing near the door. “Ceric knows how to collapse the tunnel, and he will do so when my guards start to be overrun. The tunnel should collapse and it will take days to dig the High King out of the rubble. At the very least, we should have a couple of days head start.”

“How will you explain taking us out?” Derek asked. “Surely, the guards know what we look like.”

“I have a fake order for your transfer. It will be enough to get us out of the fortress. Once we are out, I have a small detachment of soldiers that will escort us westward.” His tone was exasperated, bordering on irritated. “Is that a good enough plan, or would you like to go back into your cells?”

Trestus motioned towards the three torturers still being held against the wall. “What about those three?”

Keenan didn't answer, but instead drew his knife. He handed it hilt first to Orval.

Orval took the offered knife and stared at it for a moment. There was a definite ease of movement that had been lacking only moments ago. He pushed himself off of the table and moved toward the three torturers still held against the wall. Two of them were facing the wall, but Rastin was facing Orval. There was a definite look of fear on Rastin's face now.

Orval walked slowly over, and without hesitating, he jabbed the blade into Rastin's belly, and cut horizontally across. Rastin fell to his knees, his hands frantically trying to hold in his spilling guts. A low moan escaped his lips, followed quickly by frantic blubbering sobs. The other two tortures died without a sound.

None of the guardians could bring up the least amount of sorrow over the three dead men. If anyone was worthy of death, it had been those three. Derek found himself thinking that perhaps they had died too quickly, and he quickly shoved that thought away.

The door opened and a guard stuck his head in, “Sir, Ersha has returned.”

Keenan nodded, “Lead him in.”

Several moments later, the door opened again and two soldiers led Ersha into the room. The soldiers walked slightly behind Ersha and to either side of him. “What is this?” He demanded, sneering as he spoke. “The High King himself gave me my orders.” His voice trailed off at the sight of Orval standing over the three torturers, a dripping knife in his hand. Ersha stopped dead in his steps, and the two soldiers each grabbed him by an arm and drug his forward. The sneer was gone from Ersha's face, and it had been replaced by a look of fear. “What. What is this?” He stammered.

Keenan ignored Ersha's words; instead he motioned toward the table. “Put him on there and strap him in.” The blood drained from Ersha's face at these words and he frantically tried to pull loose of the soldiers. Keenan glanced around the room, “Everyone out!”

The soldiers obediently began moving toward the door, all but the two that were busy strapping Ersha to the table. The torturer had quit fighting, and was now sobbing quietly.

Derek and the other guardians had not moved, “What are you going to do to him?” Derek asked, his curiosity and disgust mirrored in the faces of the other guardians.

“Me?” Keenan asked, pointing to his own chest, “I'm not going to do anything to him.” Turning to face Orval, who was still standing near the three dead torturers, Keenan said, “I can only give you five minutes. Make it count.” Then turning he marched out of the room.

The guardians glanced at each other, and then they followed Keenan out the door.

Minutes later, Orval emerged from the room. His expression was hard to read, it seemed torn between disgust and relief. His face was pale, seemingly drained of blood, and his right eye kept twitching. He barely acknowledged the others as he left the room; his eyes had a haunted vacant look.