Passion of the Different (13 page)

The best option presented itself as he regarded the castle walls, this remarkably beautiful yet evil as hell Darya, then his mind lingered a moment on whom he was trying to save.
Stall and tell her you'll think about it and you need time. Use that time to formulate an escape plan that won't alert the guards, listeners or anyone at the signal light. Don't endanger Myra or your unborn child's life by acting too soon. Play it by ear until something careful and well plotted can be accomplished. A better opportunity may present itself as well, then the time and place for action would be a lot clearer.

"I've decided," he told Darya, and she leaned forward and smiled, sure she was going to hear what she wanted. Instead his explanation angered her. He kept his voice in a deliberate monotone so his true emotional state remained unreadable. He refused to give her anymore personal advantages over him. "I need time to consider this offer. It won't take me all winter nor an entire summer to get you pregnant, if that's what I decide to do. There's much I must weigh and how it will affect all of our lives, not just mine or Myra or that of my unborn child. Do you understand me?"

"I do," Darya stated quickly. "Take the time to think about it, Lord Za'Ryan, but measure such things carefully. There is still a deadline and it's at the end of next summer. If you're still 'thinking' about it by then, I'll kill you both. Guards, show him to his new quarters. I don't want to look at him again anytime soon."

Ryan was escorted to his distant room in another deeper part of the castle by six nervous men with drawn swords. Two of them visibly shook at his size alone. His new quarters consisted of stone walls, a metal banded cot, no windows and thick bars for a front door. It boomed shut and the heavy iron lock clicked into place. Most would have considered this development to be hopeless at this point. He had expected to be treated well and to be kept in a positive mood for the queen's sake. That he would interact with the people around her to test their loyalties. Make promises, bribes even, and eventually do the right thing. He would simply have to bide time and weigh his options as they happened for now. He knew a simple word to the guard and he could be brought before the queen again with a handy l
ie.
So he wasn't as limited as it looked if it came to a forced escape attempt.

Another dark thought came to assail him.
Just go and screw the good looking bitch, get it over with and go home with your wife and unborn child
.

The prison cell worded the voiceless dissent for such an easy out by its mere existence. If this is what Queen Darya considers treating people well, to get what she wants out of them rather than flog or torture, the likely hood that she would keep her end of any bargain was slim to none. No, taking the offer was out. Once the Queen got what she wanted, Ryan was sure she would kill them both anyways. He wasn't going to let either of those options happen.

Chapter Eighteen - The Warden

A month into his life as a prisoner taught him all sorts of things about his jailors. The cell was larger than he realized when he counted the paces. Twelve by fifteen short paces afforded Ryan plenty of room for movement. The iron bars were too thick to bend even for his own unique strength. The light from the dungeon hallway flickered from various oil based torches, though the type of oil used was unknown to him. It did make his nose twitch from time to time when one iron torch was switched for another by the guards. Whatever the substance was made out of, it gave off little to no smoke.

The food was also better than expected. Prepared to see gruel or watered down bread mush, he was surprised when a large plate of hot vegetables was passed through his bars twice a day. He didn't say anything to his jailors and they seemed happy that he didn't want to talk.

That all changed on the first day of winter when the guards were cycled out for a new unit. Thick blankets were handed out to the various prisoners, all locals except for himself, and the new set of uniformed guards started to run the place with more resources.

Ryan looked up from his cot when he heard the loud bang on his bars, a guard's way of getting a prisoner's attention. The fellow on the other side peered at him with curiosity, cocked the helmeted head to one side as dark green eyes regarded him. "Is there a problem?" he asked the new guard.

"No," was the reply, and Ryan almost stood up in total surprise. That accented voice was too high pitched to be male. Knowing the question in his eyes, she took off her dark metal helmet and a cascade of light blue hair flowed down around her shoulders. Now he did stand and she took a fast step back. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"Why do you seem surprised?" she asked.

"Your hair is the same color as my wife's," he explained softly. "I didn't expect that."

"Do you know who I am?" she stated, as if he should have known all along.

"I have no idea who you are," Ryan replied politely. He knew he was being regarded closely, perhaps a little too closely by this female guard. He knew the Elerians wouldn't approve of women using armor or swords, but these people had no social hang ups along those lines. "Though you are the first of my jailors to talk to me in the time I've been here."

"Yorg'Zax is my older brother," she stated without emotion. "The captain of a certain fort you snuck into and beat the living daylights out of while searching for your wife."

"I'm not sorry I did that," Ryan confessed, baritone level and remaining polite. "If it was your brother who got kidnapped and I knew where he was, you might have done the same if the opportunity presented itself."

"Fair enough," she replied, her light musical accent still neutral. "Even though he couldn't sleep for days, I'm just grateful you didn't kill him."

"Would you mind backing up a few steps?" Ryan asked, as courteous as if he was a host and she was an honored guest.

"Why?"

"The closest torch is behind you," he replied kindly. "It puts your face mostly in shadow. I would like to see you as we talk."

She stepped back as requested and the light revealed her delicate yet strong features. High cheekbones, heart shaped jawline and a cleft chin gave her a striking charm he liked right away. He nodded and her expression clouded into an unvoiced question, which he answered.

"I see the family resemblance now," he stated calmly. "Did your brother lose his job over what happened?"

"No," she said, then gave him a lopsided smile. "Though I find it interesting you asked. I think Queen Darya was too infuriated with your refusal to bed her to consider the failings of some minor underling. There are high ranking noblemen who died trying to woo her, and there you are, telling
her
no. Why didn't you just do it?"

"Several reasons," he shot back quickly, then hesitating a moment so he could keep his voice respectful. "I don't love her. I never will. I happen to love
and
respect my wife. The queen is..."

"She's beautiful way beyond normal standards," she said, cutting him off as if that should explain everything.

"On the outside," Ryan softly responded. "On the inside she's ugly as hell. When was the last time Darya ever heard the word
no
? She's too used to getting her wants serviced. I won't be used that way."

She considered his words, inhaled deeply and let it out slowly through her nose and didn't share her thoughts as she regarded him again, this time with something more normal than cold contempt. She also chose that moment to change the subject. "Do you need anything? More water? Extra blankets? Food?"

"I'm fine with what I get," he replied, then smiled at her. She didn't return it, but she didn't frown either. "And I wouldn't want you getting into trouble by giving me extra stuff."

"No trouble," she said. Then a light smile did reach her lips but only for a moment. "I can do whatever I want in my jail. I'm the warden. You may call me Nera." Then without waiting for a response, she turned with military precision and walked away.

As distant guards stiffened to attention when she passed them down the prison hall and went out of sight, Ryan found himself saying out loud, "Nice to meet you, Warden Nera."

Chapter Nineteen - Revenge

The next visitor came two days later and was escorted by two palace guards. They seemed easy and unconcerned with the richly dressed figure who approached Ryan's cell door. The large man stiffened with rage and recognition when the voice of Avrohom reached his ears.

"The monster is caged as it deserves," Avrohom said, relishing every single word that flowed out of his sneering mouth. "The too tall bitch is out of sight perhaps for good, and Ocaza is in a tizzy gathering all the men they can throughout winter. My my, what has the world come to, hmm?"

Ryan slowly approached the bars so as not to spook the guards back. He didn't think they would panic with bars between them, Ryan wanted them as close as possible. For the moment his focus was on his enemy. "So you're the spy, and a traitor as well to your own king."

Avrohom's nostrils flared with anger but he kept his voice happily sarcastic. "I forgot how smart this beast is. Too smart." To the palace guard on his right, "When is this
thing
due for execution? I wish to be there."

"That is yet to be determined by Queen Darya," the palace guard replied crisply, obviously not pleased with having to answer to the Elerian.

"You were a fool to come here and gloat," Ryan growled to him, his large hands gripped the bars and squeezed as if they were the traitor's throat. "Did you know the queen promised me anything I wanted if I got her pregnant? Now I know who you
really
are, your head nailed to the front gate of the castle might be part of the price I ask for. As you stand before me and wag that pathetic tongue of yours, Darya is looking more attractive by the second."

"Is that an official request?" The palace guard on the left asked the large prisoner, eager to please his queen.

"I'm too important to her for such a deal to stick," Avrohom scolded Ryan, loosing his demeanor. It bothered the palace guards to have to protect and escort the enemy traitor and they enjoyed seeing the reaction of anger maybe a little too much. It took their attention off of Ryan long enough for him to put his little plan into action. Avrohom continued his tirade. "What women see in you, I'll never know. You're an abomination, a walking
thing
that needs to be cleansed from this world! When you die, I'll be there laughing as you spit up the last of your life's blood!"

With fake ferocity and with a calculating eye on the closest palace guard, he quickly reached out between the bars to grab Avrohom. The little man was close but not close enough. Ryan knew this already, he was banking on the reaction of his escorts and they didn't disappoint him. Charged with protecting the traitor, both soldiers jumped forward and grabbed Ryan's large arm and struggled to force it back.

Ryan only put up enough resistance to give them something to battle. It also showed him they were highly inexperienced jailors. As they pushed his right arm back behind the bars with grunting effort, his left hand neatly filched the closest guard's long dagger from his sword belt. Avrohom skipped back as expected, a momentary look of fright replacing his anger. The big man ceased his fake struggle and stepped back. The suckered guards gratefully let him go. Ryan kept the long dagger behind his left thigh and out of sight. His fingers deftly turned it a few times while hidden, feeling its weight and balance with familiar precision. Another skill leaked through the black barrier of amnesia and guided his hand with the ease of a seasoned professional. This new option would also disarm him and put future visits at a level where this wouldn't be possible again, but the trade-off was worth it to him.

The palace guards took up their positions on each side of Avrohom who decided to leave without any further taunting. He took three, now four steps away. Perfect. For the first time since his imprisonment, Ryan opened up his lungs and shouted from the pit of his stomach.

"Turn and face me, traitor!" That deep voice boomed down the dungeon hall like thunder, rattling every guard in earshot into a startled combat stance. With an expert snap of his wrist, the long bladed dagger flew like a bat out of hell from between the bars.

Avrohom had pivoted in anger with his mouth open to snap a nasty reply but it never got said. The blade zipped in just under his chin and the hilt hugged his throat apple with a wet thwack. Gargling his own blood and sinking to his knees, Avrohom heard Ryan laughing at him. His last darkening thought was filled with twisted irony.
How dare that big bastard turn my own omen against me!

Shocked and dismayed, the palace guards shouted out orders as they dragged Avrohom's corpse away as fast as possible. Four regular prison guards formed a shoulder to shoulder line and leveled spears at Ryan's cell in the distance. They were blocking off access to anybody else he might have a hidden weapon for. They may be inexperienced jailors, but far from stupid.

They stood there like that for hours. Then a squad of soldiers with manacles and leg irons approached the cell, all armed to the teeth and intending to transport him somewhere one way or the other. With ten heavily armed men primed to kill him at the slightest wrong move, Ryan let them open his cell and shackle his wrists and ankles without resistance. A few moments after they tested the thick chains, they prodded him in the direction they wanted to go.