Cage of Darkness (Reign of Secrets, Book 2) Page 7

  Allyssa hesitated, wondering if she could run and hide somewhere. Shifting her weight, she scanned the area for exits. As she did so, four additional sentries came out of the dark archway and surrounded them. Six armed men and one assassin. There was no chance of escaping now.

  Chapter Eight

  Soma disappeared into the dark archway. Odar hurried after him, not once glancing Allyssa’s way. She followed, the sentries herding her forward. The archway led to a short corridor. The only light came from a couple of windows that were so dirty she couldn’t see through them. The corridor felt chilly and damp.

  From her studies, she knew this castle was King Drenton’s primary residence. However, the place was so dreary and depressing that she wondered how anyone, especially a king, could live here.

  At the end of the corridor, they stopped before an arched door while Soma played with the lock. The sentries surrounding her and Odar towered above them. Each man wore black leather armor with a fur cape draped over his shoulders. Their hair hung loose. But what Allyssa found most intriguing were the intricate black marks swirled over their foreheads and cheeks. Each man had a different, yet similar, pattern. Since Soma didn’t have one, she believed it was some sort of military mark.

  The door swung open. “Follow me,” Soma ordered, stepping into another corridor, this one glowing with bright light. Warmth spread over her as she entered, and one of the soldiers took her cape, yanking it from her shoulders. “Won’t be needing this.”

  Without faltering, she continued along the corridor, glad to finally be in a section of the castle that had some life to it. Torches hung on the walls, interspaced with faded tapestries. There wasn’t a single window in sight. Two sentries stood guard on either side of an oversized door.

  “Your Highness,” the one on the right said, swinging the door open to admit them. “Welcome to court.” A strip of thick red carpet led from the door to a raised dais fifty feet away. The room was alight with torches, and a fire roared off to the side in an enormous hearth twice as tall as Allyssa. Banners with the royal family’s crest hung from the rafters. Three dozen people mingled about the Throne Room.

  “Prince Soma, Princess Allyssa of Emperion, and Prince Odar of Fren,” the sentry holding the door bellowed. A collective gasp resounded through the room.

  Keeping her head high, Allyssa started walking along the runner. The people she passed murmured to one another, craning their necks to see her. She had to be a mess. When was the last time she bathed? Regardless of her own appearance—and smell—she would carry herself with dignity since she was the princess of Emperion and heir to the throne.

  Those gathered had to be members of the Russek court. Most of the noblemen wore thick wool tunics, pants, and a sash across their chests that revealed their family’s crest. The noblewomen had on dresses made from heavy fabric that covered their arms and neck. The colors were dark and muted. Not many donned jewelry, giving Allyssa the sense that their clothing was more utilitarian—not what she was used to seeing at her own court.

  Halfway to the raised dais, she finally allowed herself to look at the two Throne Chairs. The one on the left was empty. A woman around her parents’ age sat on the chair to the right. She was dressed in a striking blue gown with multiple layers of silk, a vast difference from the other members at court. The woman’s darker skin complemented her raven-black hair. A gold crown adorned with diamonds rested atop her head. On her right stood a girl about Allyssa’s age. She had shiny black hair that flowed down her shoulders to her waist. Her large, chocolate-brown eyes glistened as her full red lips smiled at the sight of Odar. She wore a burgundy velvet dress that was cut low, accentuating her voluptuous figure. A thick, gold-encrusted diamond necklace hung around her neck, resting against the top of her bosom.

  Allyssa folded her hands together, trying to calm her nerves and hoping no one saw how badly she was shaking. The queen’s eyes roamed over Allyssa, her upper lip curling in disgust. Shelene’s smile grew into a smirk—her attention solely focused on Odar.

  Without realizing it, Allyssa had stopped walking, wanting to run away and hide. This place reeked of evilness and hatred disguised by pretty faces and fancy clothes. The royal family was going to tear her apart. The queen’s eyes narrowed, and Soma reached back, clutching Allyssa’s arm and dragging her alongside him the rest of the way to the dais.

  “Brother,” Princess Shelene said. “It took you long enough.” She placed her gloved hand upon the back of her mother’s chair, her fingers curling around the wood.

  Soma let go of Allyssa and ascended the three steps to the top of the dais, kissing his mother on the cheek. Jana smiled, patting his hand. “Welcome home.”

  “I’m sorry it took so long. There were a few complications,” he mumbled. “Regardless, I am here, and I brought you Princess Allyssa and Prince Odar, just like you asked.”

  Without hesitating, Odar dropped to one knee at the foot of the steps. “Your Majesty,” he purred. “I see where your daughter gets her exquisite beauty from.” He stood and inclined his head toward the princess. “Your Highness, it has been far too long since I’ve been graced with your presence.”

  Allyssa didn’t recognize Odar’s voice because it was kind, gentle, and coated with honey. It grated on her ears, making her want to slap him. Instead, she forced her facial expression to remain neutral while ire and doubt soaked her. Shelene was Odar’s first love, and they had been engaged. He’d said the princess really didn’t love him—that she’d only been after his army. While he had expressed how upset he’d been from this revelation, he never specifically said he no longer cared for Shelene. Could Allyssa trust him? After all, he’d pretended to be Jarvik, the squire. How could she be certain when he told the truth? What if this was all some elaborate plot to destroy Emperion?

  “I heard you found yourself another bride,” Shelene cooed, her young-sounding voice giving away her age of fifteen.

  Odar chuckled. “Not quite.”

  Shelene raised her thick eyebrows, awaiting his explanation.

  Don’t react or give anything away, Allyssa scolded herself. From here on out, she had to be smart about every single move she made and every word she uttered. Not knowing whom she could trust, she decided not to trust anyone.

  “Well?” Shelene asked her brother. “Is Prince Odar engaged to Princess Allyssa?”

  “Yes and no,” Soma replied.

  “How is that even possible?”

  “Prince Odar went to the Emperion court pretending to be his squire, Jarvik. Jarvik, in turn, played the part of Prince Odar, securing a marriage contract between himself and the unknowing princess. So, technically, Princess Allyssa is engaged to Jarvik, who, I’m sad to reveal, is dead.”

  Shelene’s eyes widened with excitement, and she fought a smile. Allyssa wanted to yell and scream at her for ordering Jarvik’s murder. Shelene elegantly strolled down the steps, coming to stand before Odar. “Is this true?” she asked, her eyes hooded.

  “It is,” he replied, his tone conspiratory.

  Allyssa ground her teeth together. Odar should be livid. Jarvik was his best friend. Instead, it appeared as if he were in league with the princess.

  “Why did you switch places with your squire?” She bit her bottom lip, awaiting his response.

  He took her hand and kissed it. “After my parents severed our betrothal and sent you home, they insisted I go to Emperion to secure a bride for Fren. I devised the ruse to appease my parents and remain unattached…for you.” He winked.

  Princess Shelene looked at Allyssa, scanning her from head to foot. “You fool,” she said, laughing. “You entered into an engagement with the wrong man.” She shook her head, smiling. “I would have been upset,” she said to Odar, “if you married such a plain and simple thing because your parents told you to.”

  “They do not command me,” he replied.

  Allyssa did not recognize this man beside her. Was Odar playing a part, as he indicated he would be? Or had he been
acting with her, and this was who he truly was? Her head throbbed, a nasty headache forming.

  “Good,” Shelene said. “I’m glad to hear it, because I have a test for you.”

  “I will do anything to prove my loyalty.”

  Soma leaned down, whispering to his mother. Jana’s brow furrowed, and she focused on Allyssa. When he finished speaking, he stepped back. Jana’s eyes narrowed as she observed Odar. What did Soma say to his mother? That he suspected Odar cared for Allyssa? She started sweating, her stomach in knots. If they didn’t believe Odar, would he be killed?

  “I was hoping you’d say that,” Shelene purred. “Follow me.” She glided off the dais and past Allyssa. Odar never even looked her way as he followed the princess out of the Throne Room. What test did she have in store? Allyssa hoped he would survive it.

  No one spoke, and a deadly silence followed. After an uncomfortable minute, Jana cleared her throat and said, “It is difficult to sit here and look at you.” She gripped the arms of her chair, her knuckles turning white. “I was your age when your mother cast me aside like a common criminal.” Her voice was steely and dripping with contempt.

  Allyssa had the urge to argue with her, to tell her she shouldn’t have been on the throne in the first place, that Rema had shown Jana compassion by banishing rather than killing her, but she bit her cheeks, forcing herself to remain quiet. Nothing she said would change Jana’s mind. The queen had been plotting her revenge for almost twenty years.

  “Guard,” Jana said, addressing the man off to the side of the dais. “Please tell my mother, Lady Eliza, that there is someone here she will be most interested in.” He nodded and left. “As I have suffered at the hands of your parents, so shall you suffer at my hands.” She reached up, touching the crown atop her head. “It is time for you to learn firsthand the might of Russek.” She stood and moved to the edge of the dais, looking down upon Allyssa, a cruel smile etched across her face. “Send in the squad.”

  A sentry opened the door and six soldiers marched in. “Take this prisoner to the dungeon,” Jana commanded.

  Although Allyssa knew it was coming, hearing the words out loud and seeing the soldiers sent a tidal wave of fear through her.

  “Princess Allyssa is our enemy. Show her no kindness. By the time I’m done with her, she’ll be begging for death. Take her away.”

  Chapter Nine

  The soldiers surrounded Allyssa. One seized her arm, dragging her out of the Throne Room. She didn’t fight back or respond, thankful she hadn’t been killed right there on the spot. In the hallway, the reality of the situation crashed down into her. Soldiers were taking her to the Russek dungeon. Not knowing what awaited her in the bowels of the castle made the situation infinitely worse. She was going to be sick. Her fingers tingled, and her arms went numb. It felt like someone was banging a stick against her head. The soldiers marched along hallway after hallway, making it seem like she was caught in a never-ending maze.

  Once they locked her in the dungeon, it would be near impossible to escape. She had to try before it was too late. Up ahead, there was a door on her right. Just before reaching it, she purposely tripped. As she fell, her fingers clutched onto the hilt of a nearby soldier’s sword. His arm snaked around her waist, yanking her body against his. A sharp pain shot through her hand as he pressed his knuckle against a pressure point, making her release the sword.

  “Looks like we got a fighter,” one of the soldiers said. “Check her for weapons.”

  One roughly patted her down. “She’s clean.” Allyssa didn’t feel very clean after having hands roam over her body. Still, she kept her face blank, trying not to show fear.

  “Cover her head,” someone else ordered. “She doesn’t need to know the layout of the castle.”

  “And here I thought we had a mere princess on our hands,” the man holding her said.

  “Never underestimate your enemy,” another responded with a dark chuckle. “Especially considering who her father is.”

  If they knew who her father was, then they knew she wouldn’t give up. She was a fighter—just like Darmik. A soldier pulled a cloth bag out of his pocket and shoved it over her head, cinching it around her neck with more force than necessary. Her breathing sped up. She made herself breathe slowly so she wouldn’t hyperventilate. Never show fear, her father had drilled it into her. No matter how dire the situation or how scared you are. Fear empowers your enemy. Someone shoved her from behind, and she resumed walking. A firm hand was on her arm, guiding her. She heard a door scraping against the stone floor, and then she was led down a flight of stairs.

  “Prisoner for processing,” a gruff voice said, pulling her to a stop.

  It would be so much easier if she could see. Clearing her throat, she announced, “I am the princess of Emperion.” Her voice came out muffled from the cloth bag covering her head. “My kingdom has made no move against Russek. It is Russek who threatens to invade us. Let me negotiate peace between our lands so we can save our people’s lives. Do not lock me in a cage like an animal.” Her heart pounded, and her breathing came out in loud, raspy gasps. She would not faint like some wimpy girl.

  “We’ll take it from here,” someone else said.

  It sounded like a door opened ahead of her. Large hands clutched her arm, yanking her forward. A moment later, a door slammed shut behind her, and a rancid stench assaulted her senses. She tried not to breathe in the smell of sweat, vomit, and bodily waste. As she was led deeper into this hellhole, a soft hiss followed by a distant scream made the hairs on her arms rise.

  The person holding her laughed. “Just another day in paradise.” They stopped, and metal grated against stone. The cloth bag was removed from her head, and she was shoved into a small room. The door banged shut. “Enjoy your stay,” he sneered through the square, bar-covered hole in the door. The bolt slid into place, locking her in, and he strode away, leaving her alone in the cell.

  The desire to sit down and sob in this ten-foot-by-ten-foot room was overwhelming. But she had to be smart and think of a plan. Keeping her mind focused would help her survive this ordeal. What did she know about being a prisoner? A year ago, Rema had told her about the brief time she spent in King Barjon’s dungeon. Granted, her mother had never gone into specifics, but she said when life seemed impossible, one had to hold onto hope. Allyssa needed to keep her spirits up and not allow the situation to break her. She refused to give in to her fear. She would be strong—like her mother.

  Darmik always insisted she remain analytical with the end goal in sight. Steeling her resolve, she glanced about the room. Her dressing closet was larger than this space. At least there was a straw cot. Well, straw on the ground in a semi-rectangular shape that vaguely resembled a bed. A used chamber pot filled with waste had been shoved in one of the corners. There was nothing she could use as a weapon. She tried to organize her chaotic thoughts. Maintain hope. Keep my endgame in sight. She would survive this. She blinked away the tears that threatened and began pacing about the room.

  ***

  Time inched by, almost driving Allyssa mad. There was nothing to do but think in this blasted place. A bloody week passed, and not a single person came to see her. Were they going to let her rot down here?

  And there had been no word from Odar. Was he in the dungeon or had he been taken elsewhere? She didn’t even know if he was alive. Pacing about the cell, Allyssa rubbed her temple. What about her parents? They were supposed to be hiding in Emperor’s City. Were they aware of what had happened to her? Had Marek managed to return to Lakeside and seek Emperion soldiers to aid in her rescue? Were they even going to try to rescue her now that she was in Russek?

  She kicked the wall, hating that there was so much unknown and little she could do about it. The conditions in her cell were quite foul. Never again would she take living at the castle for granted. What she wouldn’t give for a bath or some decent food. The stuff they thrust into her cell twice a day wasn’t what she considered food. More along the lines of
barely edible mush that smelled like dirty socks. The water was even warm, stale, and had a brown hue to it. Most likely, she would catch some disease in this filthy place and die without anyone knowing.

  She resumed pacing. With only one oil lamp, the room was fairly dark, making her eyes ache for not only sunlight, but also for the radiant flowers behind her castle, the green rolling hills, and the vibrant blue sky.

  A man started screaming. It wasn’t clear if he was being tortured or if the isolation of this place had driven him mad. Allyssa tried not to think about the atrocious things that happened down here. She’d never realized fear had a smell.

  She paced back and forth. Back and forth. The worst part wasn’t the conditions or the food. It was the waiting—the not knowing what the future held. She kept grasping at hope, but it was quickly withering away.

  ***

  Metal clanged against the outside of her door. A moment later, it swung open. A large soldier with unusually pale skin and light blond hair towered in the doorway. Like other Russek soldiers, he had black markings on his face—lines, swirls, and dots from his forehead, down his right cheek, and to his chin. She thought it was some sort of paint instead of a tattoo.

  “Come with me,” he said, his voice gruff.

  “Do you know who I am?” Allyssa asked, purposefully keeping her voice soft and kind, hoping to gain this man as an ally.

  He scanned her from head to toe, seemingly unimpressed with what he saw. “Out in the hallway, or I’ll drag you out,” he said, not bothering to answer her.

  She did as instructed. “I am Princess Allyssa, heir to the Emperion throne. I am being held here against my will. If you help me escape, my mother, Empress Rema, will reward you greatly.” The hallway had a couple of torches, which provided enough light to see in both directions. She gasped. There had to be over a hundred doors. Did each contain a prisoner?

  “This way,” the man said, indicating to the left.

  “Do you know where Prince Odar has been taken?”