Shadows of Men (The Watchers Book 1) (33 page)

              He had come to the castle for a purpose.  He remembered there had been something important he needed to do but now he could not recall what that thing was.  It was as though his mind had been completely stripped of any memory of his life previous to the castle.  He did not even remember how he had ended up there. 

              Just then, the sound of a creaking door filled his ears and he turned his head slowly to see who it was that entered.  It was the Queen, dressed in a long, black gown with her hair flowing freely down her back.  Her eyes glistened when they fell on him and her smile was sweet yet deviant.  Behind her came a small, hunched over man who wore the gray cloak of an alchemist.  His hair was white and his eyes were wrinkled, along with the rest of him. 

              Emeric struggled to get free but it was no use, his arms were tightly tied and with each pull of his restraints, a fresh wave of pain rushed throughout his body.

              “There, there.”  The Queen said consolingly, sitting on the bed next to him and stroking his arm gently.  “All will be well.  There is no need to struggle.”

              “What have you done to me?”  He was able to ask through gritted teeth.  Speaking somehow made his dry mouth worse and he found himself smacking his lips once more.

              “I have been enjoying you.”  Her smile grew more deviant with each passing moment. 

              “Derrick,” she said, turning to the old man who had followed her in, “some water please.”  Derrick turned and walked out of the room with a haste that was unexpected of a man his age.  Queen Scarlet never spoke while they were alone, she just continued to smile down at him and stroke his arm.  When the alchemist returned, he handed a glass of water to the Queen and she reached a hand behind Emeric’s head, lifting it slightly so that he may drink.

              The water was cool and more refreshing than Emeric could ever imagine water could be.  He drank the entire glass down in several loud gulps and when it was gone, he found himself wishing for more. 

              Queen Scarlet lowered his head back to the pillow and set the empty glass aside.

              “Please,” Emeric began to beg, “let me go.”  His words sounded soft and fragile, as though they would break in the air.  Scarlet’s smile faded but her eyes remained harsh as she peered down at him.

              “Another dose, I think Derrick.”  The alchemist nodded and shuffled out of the room once again.

              “A dose of what?  What have you been forcing me to drink?”  He was shouting now. 

              The Queen stood and walked to the other side of the room.  She lifted a sword off the floor and pulled it from its scabbard.  Emeric knew he recognized the blade- it had to be his.  He pulled against his restraints once more but quickly gave up.

              “I am not one who fights my battles with weapons and blades.”  She said, examining the sword.  “That is my husband’s way of solving problems.  I prefer to take a less violent approach.”  She looked to him and as their eyes met, she dropped the blade to the ground.  It landed with a loud
clang
that brought another smile to her lips. 

              “You told me everything.”  She whispered and Emeric shuddered. 

              “I have told you nothing.”  He replied, hoping that his words were true. 

              Queen Scarlet chuckled silently and stepped to the edge of the bed.  “Along with making you delusional, the potion Derrick has been feeding to you makes you speak the truth.  In one of our many moments of passion, you told me why you came here.  I thought perhaps you deserved to know the prisoner you sought to rescue is dead.” 

              Emeric’s eyes widened at those words. 
Prisoner.  There was a prisoner, yes.  Someone I was supposed to rescue. 
His memories slowly began to return and a name came to his mind-
Terryn. 

              “How?”  He asked, knowing full well the poor man had been tortured to death.

              “My assumption is from blood loss.”  Queen Scarlet replied.  “He was missing a leg.  I went down to his cell to question him and he sat, huddled in a corner holding his stump of a leg.  That is the position he died in.”  She smiled once again and leaned down close to Emeric’s face. 

              “My husband put that prisoner in our dungeons for a purpose.  I know that something is going on outside of these walls and my husband is learning what it is.  When he returns, I shall turn you over to him but until then, I will enjoy my prize.”  Just then, Derrick returned with a vial of the sour liquid and sat at the edge of the bed.

              “I will do it this time.”  Queen Scarlet said and she held out her hand for the vial.  Derrick leaned over and grasped Emeric’s cheeks, squeezing tightly and forcing his mouth open.  Emeric cried out and tried to struggle against his captors but he could not free himself and soon the hot liquid was filling his mouth and running freely down his throat.  He began to cough and choke on the liquid but still she poured until all of it had been dispensed. 

              When it was over, she smiled and stood, handing the empty vial back to Derrick.  “I shall return once the potion has taken effect.”  With that, Queen Scarlet and Derrick left, shutting the door silently behind them.

              It wasn’t long before Emeric began to feel the effects of the potion.  It started as a tingling sensation in his hands.  It traveled down the length of his arms and into his chest and head.  He felt his panicked breathing begin to slow and his heart, which beat violently in his chest, slowed as well.  His eyes began to flutter as a wave of sleepiness came over him that he had never felt before.  He opened his mouth and tried to cry out for help, hoping that someone outside would hear but no sound could escape his lips.  His tongue, along with everything else had gone completely numb.

              It was then he saw someone standing in the room.  He forced his eyes open as wide as they could possibly go and gasped when he saw the man standing at the foot of his bed.  It was Terryn, standing, not on one leg but two, and smiling down at him. 

              Emeric tried to apologize.  He wanted to tell Terryn how sorry he was for failing him- he could have saved him but was too weak.  He could not help but feel that Terryn’s death was his fault.

              He opened his mouth but again found he was unable to speak.  Instead, he lie sprawled on his back and staring into the eyes of the man before him.

              It wasn’t long before darkness swallowed him up and his dreams were filled with fleeting visions of Terryn and Lord Ivran.  Then something stirred around him and he forced his eyes open once more.  The first thing he noticed was how dark the room had grown.  Candles had been placed on either side of the bed, lighting only a small portion of the room.  His eyes were dry and it hurt to open them but he forced them to stay open nonetheless and found what had woken him.  Queen Scarlet sat on the bed next to him, stroking his cheek.  He thrashed and tried to curse her but she placed a soft finger to his lips and silenced him.

              She stood slowly and began to undo her robe.  She let it fall carelessly to the ground, just as she had the first night she came to him.  She climbed onto the bed and sat next to him, smiling down at his naked body. 

              He wanted to reach over and strangle her.  He could imagine what the soft flesh of her neck would feel like between his hands as he squeezed the life from her. 

              She reached her hand down to his groin and grasped him tightly.  He let a slow, raspy cry escape his lips and wished that this was all just a bad dream. 
I will wake in my own bed in Ylia and none of this would have ever happened. 
He closed his eyes and cried out helplessly as the Queen climbed on top of him. 

              He did not even know how it was possible that he was inside of her but after a few moments of slipping in and out of consciousness, he knew he was and he could feel her hips rocking back and forth.  He kept his eyes closed as he listened to the soft sound of her panting and tried to keep the tears back but soon they were shoving their way through his closed lids and down his cheeks- landing on the soft pillow beneath him. 

Chapter 28

L
ord Ivran stood at the front gate of Ylia and watched proudly as the armies marched in.  They had come from Tanis and Lerous- eight hundred of them, riding in on their coursers, holding their banners high.  The city of Ylia had been preparing all week for their arrival.  Tents had been set up as well as smithies for their weapons and huts for serving their meals in.  Their camp circled the city of Ylia and Lord Ivran had found himself walking through it earlier that day, imagining what it would look like once it was full.  He would no longer have to imagine. 

              When Emeric had failed to return, Lord Ivran had to assume the worst had happened to him and decided he could wait no longer.  If there was a chance that the King knew of the rebellion, he would certainly wait for the High Protector to return before attacking and Lord Ivran saw this as their best opportunity to strike. 
Perhaps there is some hope that I will be able to rescue Emeric and Terryn myself. 
Lord Ivran knew just how far-fetched the idea was but he found himself feeling more and more optimistic as the armies flooded through his gates. 

              He had sped word to all his allies that he had changed their plans and the time to attack had arrived.  He received word back from Laydon, Nid and Elipol that their armies were assembling and would meet Lord Ivran near Axendra within twelve days.  Bhrys had failed to send their reply and Lord Ivran tried not to let his disappointment discourage him.  Next to Lord Doran’s army, Lady Ashryn’s was the largest in count and would have made up most of their cavalry.  Lord Ivran could not wait for Bhrys, however.  The armies were assembling and most were already marching towards their destination.  No matter what King Firion did now, he would soon be surrounded on all sides and he would fall. 

              “Lord Ivran!”  Protector Stanwyck Wymon of Tanis called as he rode up on his charger.  He was a stout man, with greying, dark hair and bright green eyes.  His face was beginning to wrinkle with age but still, there was youth there, hidden behind his hardened resolve.  When he reached Lord Ivran, he dismounted, smiled and held out a hand in greeting.  Lord Ivran took his hand and smiled in return.

              “Thank you for coming.”  He said in his most sincere voice.  Protector Stanwyck nodded.

              “I would not miss this battle for anything!”  He said with excitement.  “And neither would my boys.”  He looked to his army that poured into the gates of Ylia with pride.

              “We rode hard and fast to get here and we shall ride even harder to Axendra.  The task of freeing this realm from the evil King and his Protector is the greatest privilege we will ever be blessed to be a part of.”  Lord Ivran’s smile grew even wider.  He felt relieved that someone else shared his sentiment. 

              “I feel the same way.”  He told Protector Stanwyck and he patted him on the back.

              “I have stationed your men on the east side of camp.  They shall be quite comfortable there and I have prepared quarters for you in my castle.”  He turned and pointed to his castle in the distance.  The castle of Ylia stood proudly atop a hill at the far edge of the city, glistening as though it was made of glass against the sunlight.  The castle stood surrounded by the old-town, the original city of Ylia before thousands more had come to live there.  They had built new structures around the old, giving the city a fresh appearance.

              “Thank you.”  Stanwyck said with gratitude.  “But I prefer to stay with my men in the camp.”

              “So be it.”  Lord Ivran said with a smile, admiring the man’s devotion to his people.  “But a feast is being prepared in yours and Lord Onas’s honor.  Tonight, once you are settled, join me in my castle for supper?”  

              Protector Stanwyck nodded in reply.  “I shall be honored.”  And with that, he turned and followed his men to their tents. 

              Several more minutes passed before Lord Onas and Lady Maylin came into view.  Protector Raibyr Arnould followed closely behind and when Lord Onas stopped to greet Ivran, Raibyr merely glanced in his direction but followed his army to the camp.  Lord Ivran tried hard not to let this bother him and he turned his attention to Lord Onas and Lady Maylin who stood before him.

              Lord Onas was an aged man- double the age of Lord Ivran and it was rumored that he would fall dead from his saddle any day now.  Lord Ivran looked to him now and could see why the rumor had spread.  His hair was gray and thin and it could be seen where chunks of it had fallen out, leaving the bald head underneath visible.  His eyes had sunken in and drooped, making it seem as though he was ready to fall asleep at any moment.  His hands shook almost uncontrollably as he held tightly to the reins and it seemed as though he struggled to keep himself sitting straight in his saddle.  Lord Ivran knew that Lord Onas had been a proud warrior in his younger years, making him stubborn in his old age and he ignored the healer’s advice which was to stay in bed and rest.