The Chosen (39 page)

His sister wrinkled her nose. “Surely he could get with the times. Women are allowed in the Guardians and even some noble women are trained in swordsmanship.”

“Which reminds me,” Derek said. “Have you and Roseanna been practicing?”

“Of course,” Lillian replied.

“Good. We don’t want a repeat of Sebastian’s antics.” Derek’s jaw hardened as he mentioned the kidnapper and for a moment, Kathryn saw something beyond Derek’s over-enthusiastic personality.

Lillian hugged her brother. “Roseanna’s fine, thanks to the Guardians, and Sebastian would never have tried to kidnap Roseanna if you and Darcy had been around.”

For some reason, the exchange between brother and sister left Kathryn feeling hollow inside. No one had ever attempted to protect her as a child, and seeing the Prince do it so naturally for his sister physically hurt.

Forcefully she pushed aside the unwanted feelings. She didn’t want or need anyone to look out for her. Trusting others only got you hurt.

David seemed to notice that she was growing uncomfortable. “Would you like me to escort you back to your room, Lady Kathryn?”

Before she could reply, Princess Lillian hurried to her side. “I’ll walk with you,” She said, linking one of her arms through Kathryn’s. “I need to return to the palace anyway.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Kathryn said as they walked off.

Prince Derek turned to Amy. “Perhaps you would allow me to show you around the grounds?”

Amy gave him a shy smile. “Of course.”

The two walked off together, Derek already acting as a guide, informing Amy of the history behind the palace.

David, Prince Darcy, and Lord Tanner, who had observed the interaction between the Crown Prince and his Lady, looked at each other and shrugged. “I think he’s smitten,” Lord Tanner observed.

“I think you’re right,” David replied, grinning.

Kathryn closed the door to her room and sagged against the wood. Next chance she got she was going to strangle David. What was he thinking going and asking her to become his Lady? She had seen his skill on Rumer, and he was good enough to become the champion of the tourney which would put her in the spotlight as his Festival Queen. Apparently he hadn’t gotten the message that she hated being in the spotlight. Well when she saw him again, she would give him the message in a way he would never be able to misinterpret. She was going to kill him!

Sighing, she pushed up off the door and massaged her temples. Perhaps her lightheadedness came from both the heat and her pounding headache. The hair style that Arianna had created was beautiful but it piled all her hair on top of her head and the extra weight was making her miserable.

She pulled out the pins Arianna had used to tame her hair and shook it down. The lightheadedness that accompanied the motion nearly sent her to the floor.

Perhaps
I really should lie down,
she thought
.
Moving to the large windows, she pulled the heavy curtains shut— effectively darkening the room enough for a midday nap. She pulled off the purple dress, struggling a bit with the thrice cursed corset—she was going to have bruises from that stupid loose bone— and hung it in the wardrobe. Grabbing a nightgown she slid into it.

Pulling herself up onto the huge bed she rearranged the pillows and laid her pounding head down.

“Here’s your murderer!” The thin lady screeched, pointing at Kathryn who shrank back against the cold stone wall. “She killed them in their sleep she did! Judge her now, and give those poor souls the justice they deserve!”

Silence hung in the room after her declaration. Kathryn heard the frantic beating of her own heart as she waited. No one cared about the truth—they wouldn’t have believed her had she told the truth. She had motive and opportunity and best of all she didn’t open her mouth to defend herself.

“What justice do you think fits the crime this child committed?” The speaker was a tall thin man with gray hair and even grayer eyes. He was Lord Blackwood of Blackwood Manor, judge, jury, and hangman for the region.

“Hang her!” The fury in the woman’s shriek sent Kathryn cowering against the wall again. She didn’t understand why the woman was so adamant about the ‘crime’ that had been committed. She’d hated Kathryn’s uncle and his family, always threatening to kill them herself. Yet here she was, blaming Kathryn and insisting the she be hung.

Lord Blackwood looked to Lady Blackwood, a small reed-like woman who sat beside him, she nodded.

“Very well,” Lord Blackwood stood. “Take the girl to the dungeons pending her execution.”

Two guards grabbed Kathryn’s arms and dragged her down the corridors to the gated door that marked the entrance to the dungeons. The door opened silently and she was dragged down the curving staircase that led to the dungeons beneath.

The Master of the Dungeons was an older man with large hands and scars, lots and lots of scars. “What do you have for me, Sir Knights?”

One of the knights tossed Kathryn on the floor. “New prisoner for you Kad, be careful ‘round this one, she’s a murderer.”

Kad looked down at Kathryn who cowered on the floor. “Murderer?” he asked incredulously. “What did she kill? A mouse?”

“Her uncle and his family,” the second knight replied. “The whole lot of ‘em in one day.”

The dungeon Master looked down at Kathryn. He reached down and grabbed one of her arms, dragging her to her feet. “A murderer huh? Well, do you know what we do with murderers down here?”

Kathryn didn’t make any move to reply; just stared at him—waiting.

“We punish murderers.” He unfurled his whip and let it crack against the floor. “Let’s begin.”

He tossed her back onto the floor and kicked her severely in the side until she rolled onto her stomach. She heard the sound of the whip traveling through the air, heard its sharp crack and felt the sharp pain travel across her back. The two knights had since left, leaving her alone with Kad.

Whimpering, she heard another crack and braced for the pain, unable to hold in another whimper.

“That’s right, murderer,” Kad laughed cruelly. “It hurts doesn’t it? Go on, cry!” He kept on, bringing each stroke down harder until Kathryn did cry.

She cried not only from her heart, but from her soul, a soul that was being shredded. Her tears ran down her cheeks and into the cracks between the stones. Her fingers gripped the stone until her fingernails were broken and bloody.

Finally, Kad had had enough and threw her in a cell with an older male prisoner who was chained to the wall. As she lay on the rotting straw that littered the cold stone choking back sobs, Kathryn could now hear what she hadn’t earlier—the screams of the other prisoners. They echoed throughout the dungeons, the disembodied voices of broken people.

Carefully, Kathryn pulled herself into a sitting position, her back was on fire and she could feel the blood flowing freely down her back. She crawled to the nearest solid wall and pressed her back against it, the pain was unbearable and each labored breath she took sent waves of pain through her small body. She’d tended to enough of her cousin’s wounds to know she had to stop the bleeding—but oh! It hurt so much.

“Well,” a voice rasped. “You’re certainly a clever one aren’t you?” Her cellmate peered at her through the darkness, his chains rattling with every slight movement. “Usually takes the new ones three beatings to figure out they need to stop the bleeding.”

Kathryn didn’t reply.

“You’re a young one, how old are you?” When Kathryn didn’t reply he persisted, “Come child,” he said gently. “How old are you?”

Slowly, Kathryn held up five fingers.

“Five years old,” her cellmate repeated in amazement.

Kathryn continued to huddle against the stone wall, she didn’t know when she would be hanged, but she vowed she wouldn’t cry. She would never cry again—no matter what they did to her.

She didn’t sleep that first night, the cries of pain and pleas for mercy kept her awake.

When Kad came for her the next morning, he didn’t carry his whip. Instead he brandished a long rod which he took great pleasure using it on her. But Kathryn kept her vow, she did not cry—she whimpered once, but she did not cry.

“Brave little thing,” Kad muttered as he tossed her back into her cell.

After he had left, her cellmate shifted slightly. “I’ve seen a lot of things in my life,” he said slowly. “But a five year-old girl who denies the dungeon master her cries and pleas for mercy is not one of them.”

Kathryn simply curled her throbbing body up tighter.

“Can you speak, child?”

She simply looked at him.

“My name’s Quint. What’s yours?”

Here she couldn’t answer him. She didn’t have a name. Her aunt and uncle had simply referred to her as girl.

Quint tried to make conversation again, but she ignored him and tried to fall asleep.

For four more days Kad beat her daily, however he soon grew tired of a prisoner that didn’t cry out or beg for mercy and left her alone. For his part, Quint constantly talked to her. After those first two days, he stopped expecting her to talk back and instead told her stories. They made the time pass and she found herself grateful for them.

The prisoners’ food was delivered once in the morning—a loaf of bread, some weak broth, and water.

Two weeks after Kathryn had arrived at the dungeons Quint offered her his bread. “Come on little one, take it. You need it more than I do.”

When she hesitated he reached it out to her as far as his shackles would allow. “Trust me little one.”

Slowly she extended her hand and took it. As soon as she reached her side of the cell, her cellmate began shouting at the top of his lungs, “Dungeon Master! Dungeon Master!”

“What now?” Kad asked annoyed. “Shut up unless you want another beating!” He cracked his whip threateningly.

“But she stole my food!”

Kad peered into the cell. Sure enough he saw the little girl cowering with a loaf of bread in her hands. “Well we can’t have that can we?”

He dragged her out of the cell and gave her another sound whipping. Throwing her back into her cell he told her, “Because you stole from Quint, he gets your rations for two days."

For the next two days Quint enjoyed double portions while Kathryn’s strength waned dangerously.

A few weeks later Quint offered Kathryn his bread again, “I’m sorry about the last time,” he told her, “I didn’t think he’d take your food away. Come child,” he chided when she shrank away from him. “You need to eat, you’re nothing but bones. Take it.” He shoved his bread at her, “trust me.”

Kathryn didn’t know what made her believe him, but she accepted his bread, only to have the exact same thing happen again. Quint hollered at the top of his lungs, Kad came and gave her another beating and Quint got her food for two days.

Never again, Kathryn vowed as she watched Quint devour his food—and hers, never again would she trust another person.

A little over one month after she was sent to the dungeon, Kathryn was brought up to face Lord and Lady Blackwood. Forced to kneel before them with her face touching the floor she listened to them talk.

“You committed a serious crime, child,” Lady Blackwood told her, “But you are young and we hope that your time in the dungeons taught you a lesson. Did they?”

They had no idea how many lessons the dungeons had taught her. She nodded.

“Very good,” Lord Blackwood intoned, “Because we believe you have learned your lesson we are rescinding our earlier verdict. Instead of being hanged you will stay at Blackwood Manor and serve my wife, your new mistress, as her attendant. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

“No one in the village knows your name,” Lady Blackwood told her. “What is it?”

Kathryn remained silent. She heard a huff. “Fine,” Lord Blackwood said in disgust. “Since you refuse to tell us your name, you will be given a new one.”

Kathryn woke with a start, her heart racing and body trembling. The nightmare had left her damp with sweat and she brushed away wet strands of hair that had fallen into her face. There was more to the memory, so what had caused her to awaken?

A knock at the door startled Kathryn. Scowling Kathryn lay back down, hoping that if she didn’t answer, whoever it was would go away.

The knock sounded again followed this time by, “Lady Kathryn, are you okay?”

Her scowl deepened. What could David possibly want?  Swinging her legs over the side of the bed she quickly pulled her hair back, she didn’t want him seeing her like this but it didn’t sound like she had a choice. His knocks were becoming more insistent. Reaching for a dressing robe she hurried to put it on.

Bracing herself and taking a deep breath she opened the door.

David was considering breaking the door down when Kathryn finally opened the door. He was shocked at her appearance; damp hair, askew robe, ragged breathing, and scowl. “Lady Kathryn, are you okay?”

Her scowl deepened. “I’m fine, do you need something?”

His curiosity was overwhelmed by intense irritation at her and he nodded curtly. “I just wanted to let you know that the banquet’s starting in a radian.” He turned to leave.