Crimson's Captivation (23 page)

Sergen grasped the innkeeper’s throat and
pulled him closer, almost lifting him off his feet. “If another
looks for me and I even have the sense that you gave information, I
will kill you. Am I understood?”

The innkeeper could only nod. Sergen let him
go and the innkeeper fell into his chair. He rubbed his throat and
coughed out, “Pick any room. I don’t want to know which one.”

Sergen and Darya went to a nearby room where
they made love. When they were leaving the inn, Sergen made it a
point to state they were heading north within earshot of the
innkeeper.

Outside, Darya asked, “North? I thought we
were heading to France, my love?”

Sergen smiled and lifted her onto her horse.
“We are.”

Chapter VII

~ Kiev and Risqué Tales ~

Viktor struggled with his choices. He wanted
to head south toward Kiev, but he also wanted to head west to meet
up with King Charles and his men. “Sena, what can you tell me of
Kiev?”

“Only that I’ve escaped and that Tor’s palace
is most likely crawling with hunters.”

“Hunters?” the young soldier asked.

“Yes. The auction house will dispatch hunters
to find captives that have escaped.” Sena showed the three men the
mark on her inner left wrist. “I belong to Tor.”

Viktor studied the branding. “Does Crimson
have one, too?”

“She does.”

“How many men?”

“These aren’t men, young prince.”

“How many?”

“Maybe one. Maybe ten. I suspect the
strongest of the hunters will be there. Kieran and Caspian are to
be especially feared.”

Viktor recognized the name. “Caspian? I know
this creature. Ran across his path in Sweden. Why would Kieran be
at Tor’s?”

Sena stopped in mid-stride before she
answered. “Kieran? He’s Caspian’s big brother. Also, you may as
well know, Kieran has an affection for Crimson.”

Viktor frowned at Sena’s suggestion. “Sena,
if you were in my position, what would you do?”

Sena smiled from the bow of a tree above the
three men. “I? All the king’s horses and all the king’s men. But it
does not matter what I think. I will fight Kieran regardless.”

“You will? Why?”

“Someone must.”

“Then it’s settled,” Viktor said. “We shall
join with King Charles and make our way toward Kiev.”

“Wise choice,” Sena shouted from a high bow
in a far away tree. “Wise choice!”

They traveled west the remaining portion of
the day, camped that night, and early the next morning they found
themselves near the town of Koknese. According to the letter from
King Charles, he and his nearly one hundred men would be camped
between the small town and the Daugava River. Viktor ordered his
men to ride abreast of him at the distance of earshot while they
searched in a grid pattern.

“Shouldn’t be hard to find a camp of one
hundred men in such a lightly populated area,” the young soldier
suggested, and Viktor agreed.

An hour later, the young soldier came upon a
camp, but from a distance, it looked small, maybe ten men or less.
He thought of circling wide to avoid the camp, thinking they were
most likely a roving band of marauders or local hunters from the
nearby town. But he followed orders and made the loud turkey call
as agreed to. Viktor found the young soldier first and they waited
for the other soldier and Sena.

When the rest of the party arrived, Viktor
dismounted and walked his horse toward the camp. The closer he got,
the more convinced he was that this couldn’t possibly be the king’s
camp. There just weren’t enough soldiers.

Viktor shouted when he was near the perimeter
of the camp and he heard the bustle of men moving. Suddenly, a
soldier appeared in front of him.

“Who are you?” The red headed soldier
demanded as he pointed his silver tipped pike at Viktor’s
chest.

“Who are you?” Viktor retorted.

The two men stood there for several seconds
without saying a word. Then King Charles appeared on the path
behind his commander. “It’s okay, commander. He’s Viktor.”

Viktor’s face lit up with a smile. “My king,”
he started, “it is an honor.” And Viktor bowed to one knee.

“The honor is mine, young Viktor.”

Viktor rose and made the loud turkey call and
his two soldiers met up with him. They, too, bowed to the king.
Viktor pulled a letter from the satchel on his horse and approached
the king. “Sir, I have news from Commander Karl Rehnschiöld.”

The king read the letter and frowned.

“What is it?” the king’s commander asked.

King Charles folder the letter and stuffed it
into this coat pocket. “It appears since our victory in Narva,
little ground has been gained.” The king’s frustration etched
across his face. “We need to rescue Crimson and make our way back
to Riga as quickly as possible. We should move.”

“Sir,” the commander began, “we should forget
this rescue. We only have nine men between us. It is madness to
head further into enemy lands.”

“We have one other,” Viktor said. “Sena!”

Sena was stealthy above them in the tip-top
of the tree. She skillfully landed on the branch above them. Her
sudden appearance startled the king and his men, and the king’s men
rushed her with their pikes, but Sena scampered up the tree to
safety.

“That is Sena. She’s with us and she knows
where Crimson is.”

“Yes, she’s in Minsk. Held hostage by someone
named Gaten or Kieran,” the king said as he turned and began to
walk back toward his camp.

Viktor and his men followed. “I’m afraid not,
King. She is further south.”

“How far south?” the king’s commander
asked.

“Kiev!” Sena shouted from above.

Sena’s revelation knocked the wind out of the
king’s men. They stopped and looked at each other as if the word
‘Kiev’ was Swedish for impending doom.

“Kiev?” the king questioned aloud. He grabbed
Viktor’s arm and pulled him in. “You trust this creature?” he
whispered. “How do you know she’s not leading us into a trap?”

“I do trust her, sir,” Viktor replied. “She
and Crimson were kidnapped by the same person and sold to Tor in
some imperial palace near Kiev. Her revenge is with Kieran, not
us.”

The king sat on a log near the campfire and
warmed his hands over the last remaining embers. He was silent as
he thought. He knew the rescue of his sister, even if she were only
his half-sister, was noble, but he had lost many men just to make
it this far. His commander was right about Kiev; it was in the
depths of enemy hands. The news from Rehnschiöld troubled him the
most. His army should be well into Russia by now or marching deep
into the south.

No one said a word as they waited for the
king to make a decision. The king stood and asked to speak with
Sena, alone.

Sena bravely jumped from the tree and joined
the king on the far side of the camp. “Sena, you are a creature,
correct?” the king asked.

“Yes, by choice.”

“And it’s safe to assume you and Crimson were
forced …” The king stopped in mid sentence as he tried to
delicately broach the subject.

Sena sensed his unease and interjected.
“King, it’s far worse than what you’re imagining. But, yes, we were
forced and drugged and marked. We were sold as slaves.”

“I see,” the king said. “My sister, Sophia,
mentioned this, but to be honest, I thought they were risqué
stories the ladies of her court shared.”

Sena sighed. “Some stories, sir, are easy to
tell, but much harder to live.”

The king nodded in understanding. “Very well.
We shall tear into Poland and rescue my sister. Promise me one
thing, Sena.”

“Yes?”

“If I fall, promise me you will fight to the
death to kill this Kieran.”

“It shall be my pleasure.”

“Commander!” the king yelled. “Prepare to
move. We head toward Kiev!”

* * * *

On the second day at Tor’s palace, Kieran
having not heard from his brother, set out to find him. Two towns
to the south, he came upon the inn and entered. He didn’t have to
ask, he could sense that his brother had been killed here, and in
the parlor of the inn he let out a scream that echoed across all of
Poland.

Kieran approached the innkeeper, who was
hiding behind his desk. “Innkeeper! My brother’s killer, which
direction did he go?”

“Who?” the innkeeper tested among chattering
teeth as he cowered into a ball.

Kieran, in a fit of rage, tossed the
innkeeper’s desk across the room. He knelt and grabbed the
innkeeper by the throat and lifted him into the air. “Once more,
fool. What direction did he go?”

“To the north,” the innkeeper managed to get
out. “To the north.”

Kieran studied the innkeeper’s eyes. He was
telling the truth, but the truth didn’t stop Kieran from snapping
his neck in two.

Chapter VIII

~ Love Survives All ~

Several days later, King Charles, Viktor, and
Sena arrived on the outskirts of Kiev. There had been a number of
close calls on the trip south. Several enemy soldiers died at the
hands of Sena and she proved to be an excellent guide. They had
only lost one soldier during the trip.

The king and Viktor’s men had the sense they
would not make it back to the safety of their fellow legion of army
men, or Sweden, for that matter. But they were in good spirits
after having learned that their mission was to bring down a system
of slavery that plagued their women.

For four nights, the king and Viktor took
turns telling tales of heroism around the campfire. They
enlightened their men with idealism and romance, told them that
they would be heroes to their wives and mothers and sisters,
whether they made it back alive or dead.

On that last night, Viktor told his version
of the story of Orpheus and Eurydice, a story that he had read as a
child. The men were familiar with the story.

“The gods wept the day Eurydice was bitten by
the snake,” Viktor started, “And God’s rarely cry.”

“It is true that Eurydice was a nymph, but
she was far more than that, men. She was the love and beauty that
inhabits rivers, and woods, and dwellings, and the souls of our
fellow countrymen. She is the beauty that dwells in a heart in
love. She is that beauty that causes ones spirit to sing another’s
name.”

Sena closed her eyes as she listened to
Viktor tell his tale. It wasn’t so much the words he spoke, but the
passion in his words … She now knew why Crimson loved this man. It
was because Viktor understood that true love enraptured everything
and he wasn’t afraid to live or die for it.

“She’s in every proud twinkling you honor
your woman, or mother, or sister, or that unknown peasant woman in
a field,” Viktor continued. “She’s in the song of your voice and in
all of your thoughts that are heeded by Hades and Persephone. And
just as Orpheus shouldn’t have, we shall never look back, men. We
shall never look back. For beauty is always in front of you. It’s
all around you and Eurydice is in every woman.”

“Here! Here!” the king shouted.

“Eurydice dwells in all things. She survives
in all of you.”

Sena opened her eyes, walked to Viktor, and
kissed him on the cheek. “Crimson will forever be a lucky woman,”
she whispered in his ear.

“Luckier still, if she survives,” Viktor
said.

“I suppose, but lucky, regardless.”

Later than morning, Sena led the king,
Viktor, and their men to the back of Tor’s palace. “Wait here. I’ll
slip in and see what we’re up against.”

“You think that’s wise?” Viktor
questioned.

“Yes.” The king agreed with Sena. “We should
be prepared. Let her sneak in and then report back to us.”

Sena leaped over the back wall and made her
way past the stables to the entrance of the courtyard. Inside the
courtyard, she saw three hunters. She eased to the far door that
led to the main hallway and listened with an ear pressed to the
wood. Inside were at least two more hunters.

She snuck back into the woods and reported.
“There are at least five hunters. Three in the courtyard and two
near the back exit. I’ll have to enter through one of the bedrooms
on the east side. I need wooden stakes.”

The men collected several stakes and handed
them to her. She smiled, and with her long fingernails, she
sharpened each one to a fresh point. “Wait here.”

Sena made her way to Darya’s bedroom window
and peeked inside. She saw Crimson and she almost screamed out with
joy. She eased the window open and tiptoed over to her. Crimson
didn’t wake when Sena touched her, and for a moment, Sena thought
they were too late. Then she saw Crimson’s chest rise. She inched
to the bedroom door and slowly opened it. A hunter was there and
she had no choice but to react.

She grabbed him by the back of the hair and
pulled him into the room. With a quick twist, she snapped his neck
and quietly laid him on the floor. She pulled a stake from her belt
and slowly pierced the horror’s chest.

The hallway to the servant’s quarters was
empty and she snuck to her old bedchamber. It, as she expected, was
empty, but it brought back memories that angered her. She opened
Uric and Sergen’s quarters to find it empty and that surprised
her.

Outside in the hallway, Sena heard the
countess and Tor coming in her direction. She closed the door and
hid in the darkness of the musky servant’s quarters while she
eavesdropped on their conversation.

“It’s been nearly a week, Tor, and these men
have found no one,” the countess said.

“I know, my love.”

“And this Kieran that you think so highly of,
he has proven to be less than useful, has he not? Always moaning on
about the loss of his brother. I want my daughter returned to me,
Tor!” the countess yelled.

“Yes, my love. More men, even Gaten, are
arriving after dusk.”

“And this Gaten. Is he better than
Kieran?”