A Beautiful Knight (The Cursed Kingdom #2)

Chapter 6

Chapter Six

A pprehension hung over the trio, as they made their way to Meliot’s castle.

Red streaks lined the purple sky of the alter-world, the two suns partially covered by cloudlike puffs of grey matter.

Gavin held up a fisted hand, a silent signal for them to stop while pulling his own horse to a standstill. The distant rumble, like that of thunder, sounded, and Gavin jumped down placing his palm on the ground.

The ground vibrated with the pounding of hooves. Whoever or whatever came was moving closer.

Niall whistled softly and guided his horse into the woods; Gavin mounted and followed, Padriag behind him. A few yards into the thick forest, they dismounted and ducked behind trees. Padriag cast a spell, and the horses disappeared. They remained visible to keep track of each other.

Gavin crouched behind a large fallen tree, waiting for whoever or whatever came. Niall stood behind another tree, his sword drawn, while Padriag totally disappeared, holding the horses’ reins and keeping the invisible animals calm. The young knight’s ability to become invisible made it easier for him to hide, a necessity since his bright reddish hair could be hard to camouflage.

Armored men riding two by two came into view along the road they’d been on. It was hard to tell if they were human or not as they all wore helmets.

“Meliot’s minions.” Niall whispered. “We should follow.”

Padriag conjured helmets to match those Meliot’s guards wore and they donned them, mounted and followed behind.

Soon the Icing would take place, an occurrence in the alter-world in the region surrounding Meliot’s castle when sleet, rain and ice fell with force. Not only was it impossible to see when caught outdoors but also hard to survive if left exposed as the temperatures fell to a deep freeze.

As they rode, Gavin steeled himself against the cutting wind. Soon a thick snow began. None of Meliot’s soulless warriors seemed affected by the freezing sleet and hailstones pelting them.

“I think my dick just froze off,” Padriag hissed, his teeth chattering. “Even with our extra layer of clothing under this ugly ass armor, I can’t stop shaking.”

“Be quiet,” Gavin whispered back. “You’ll attract attention.” Although it was doubtful, between the pounding of horse hooves and the roaring of the wind, it was best not to take chances.

Meliot’s dark grey castle finally came into view, the turrets looming over the frozen trees, guards on watch atop each one. Gavin scanned the surrounding area noting only several pairs of black wolves.

Sentries.

Meliot had rather lax security, no guards at the gates. It was obvious he never worried about intruders, probably gave more consideration to ensuring against breakouts. Because who the hell would voluntarily come to that godforsaken place?

If Liam was being held there, he would be subjected to torture just for Meliot’s entertainment. Time was of the essence, lest their friend suffer greatly. Gavin looked to Naill and Padriag’s tense faces, understanding they were thinking the same thing.

Meliot’s warriors seemed to have the same assurance that no one would dare enter the castle because they didn’t pay Gavin, Niall and Padriag any heed as they passed through the open gates.

The trio followed the warriors into the castle courtyard; mimicking what they did. Gavin noticed with relief that the warriors did not remove their helmets, as they split up and headed to different areas, some to a building past the courtyard others to what he assumed were the stables. There was nothing else in Meliot’s castle courtyard. No bonfire nor animals other than the pair of wolves.

Warmed air swirled around them, as Padriag waved a hand in the direction of their horses. “Horses will be comfortable and can only be seen by us,” Padriag whispered, motioning with his head to where their mounts that stood side-to-side.

Silently, they hurried to a door and Niall opened it. As they followed a long corridor, there was nothing visible, so they hurried forward until reaching an archway. They stood at the top of a stairwell that spiraled down below the castle.

Niall looked to Padriag. “How long can you keep us from being seen?”

“Long enough,” Padriag said. “The invisibility spell should hold long enough for us to free Liam and get back out.”

“I hope this works, Meliot is not stupid, and he’s probably expecting us,” Gavin said.

When his friends disappeared before his eyes, Gavin held his hand up and saw nothing. Niall’s soft whistle told them to begin moving down the stairs. Gavin went slowly, not wanting to accidentally bump into one of the other two.

Light hit them when someone opened the doorway and climbed the stairs. Gavin flattened himself against the damp stone wall holding his breath. The guard walked past him, seeming not to sense him or the other two.

Once they reached the bottom of the stairwell, the stench of human waste mixed with other things he didn’t want to identify led them to a dungeon.

Gavin moved toward the right wall, scanning the dungeon while fighting the urge to throw up from the horrible smells. He reached under the helmet and pulled his shirt up around his nose. It barely helped.

Several cells lined the wall, each holding an unfortunate victim. He peered into the enclosures hoping to find Liam. Then, upon hearing Niall’s soft signal, he moved toward another room.

In the larger room, the air was just as stagnant, but unlike the last, this one had some light, and a cage tucked in a corner.

Several bloodied tables were lined up, with all sorts of tools of torture on the tops. In the middle of the room, Liam hung by his wrists, his knees almost reaching the ground, head flopped forward. Gavin’s stomach lurched at the sight. He fought not to rush forward and free him. Instead, he dragged his eyes away from Liam’s sad figure and waited for Niall’s signal.

There were two others present. A guard just inside the door sat slumped in a chair and a creature resembling a mouse sat at a table, its head atop its folded arms.

Gavin slowly made his way to the guard by the door, drew his dagger and sliced the man’s throat. Niall had done the same to the rat creature, because a dark pool grew larger and larger under its head.

Liam was no longer visible, the only clue to what happened was the sound of feet shuffling. It meant Padriag carried the unconscious knight outside.

Once outside, Padriag would leap with him back to the keep. At least that was the plan.

“Let us go, quickly,” Niall whispered.

Gavin dashed back up the stairs, a niggling tingle at the back of his neck. This was too easy, why weren’t the doors leading past the cells to the outside being guarded?

The answer came quicker than he would have liked. Just as he reached the top of the stairs, he was slammed against the wall so hard that he tumbled all the way back to the bottom.

No longer invisible, he shook his head trying to clear it.

Tearing the helmet from his head, his eyes went wide. Gavin screamed, but it was silent.

At once he began to shake, every ounce of his being revolting at the realness of where he found himself.

The soft strains of Arabic music being played on a quanan, a stringed instrument, drifted through the room. Vibrant rugs cushioned the floor beneath every step. The air, fragrant with incense, accented the opulence of the surroundings.

On a sideboard, platters overflowed with a bounty of exotic fruits while crystal decanters held sweet nectars that seemed to shimmer in the light emanating from dozens of intricate lanterns.

The canopied bed upon which he rested was draped in the finest linens, with pillows as plump and inviting as clouds.

Meliot’s laughter echoed, and Gavin shook so hard his teeth began to chatter. He was frozen, barely able to breath. This couldn’t be happening. His worst nightmare came to life. He fought to keep a scream that formed as terror filled him.

“What is the matter with you?” Nadia’s dark eyes peered down at him. His only friend. “Are you having a bad dream?” The pretty girl shook her head, placing the decanter of scented oil down.

Gavin could not reply. He sat up, looking around. It couldn’t be. He was back, somewhere in the Middle East. Everything remained the same, just like when he’d left, almost four hundred years earlier.

His hand shook as he reached up to move his hair away from his face, only to stop as he noticed the metal slave band on his wrist.

“Gamil? Are you unwell?” Nadia came a bit closer, knowing better than to touch him. Gavin flinched, and tried to move away, but was hindered. It was then he knew he was chained by the ankle to one of the massive bedposts.

“Leave me Nadia, I wish to be alone.”

“They come for you Gamil, I brought you this,” Nadia held out an apple to him. He slapped it away. “Yabtaeid!” Go away was one of the few phrases he’d learned to say in Arabic.

“I am sorry, Gamil. Ye need to be prepared. There is to be a celebration.” There was pity in her eyes when she looked at him and then Nadia hurried out of the room.

Gamil. How he hated that name. He’d been called that since arriving. It meant “beautiful” in Arabic.

Distraught, Gavin began yanking at the chain at his ankle, only to realize how much smaller he was. No longer muscular and broad, his arms appeared slimmer, his legs much leaner. Not caring, he continued pulling at the chain, the skin on his ankle tearing, blood staining the satiny bedding.

At the sound of the door opening, he became frantic, tugging and tearing at the chain. Two huge eunuchs entered and neared the bed.

Tears streamed down his face as he tried in vain to get away. With ease, one of the massive males held him against his broad chest, arms pulled back while the other removed the ankle iron.

Two women entered with clean linens. Without glancing at him, they began changing the bedding. He was lowered to stand, and the eunuchs held him as he struggled with all his might, kicking, biting and punching to no avail, the men took each hit without even a slight flinch.

The women removed his pants and tunic, and the men dragged him into an empty heavily perfumed bathing room, dunking him into a hot bath.

In the steaming water, he coughed and gagged as the women scrubbed him thoroughly and dunked him under to rinse off the soap. Once the bathing was completed, they held him down on a wooden slab, while hot wax was applied to his underarms, legs and groin, all traces of hair removed.

Finally, they rinsed him. By this point Gavin was so exhausted from fighting that he hung limp between the men. His ankle was bandaged with a red cloth and gold ankle jewelry wrapped to distract from the swelling. Finally, a golden colored, silk jeweled scarf was wrapped around his waist.

Finally, a now-docile Gavin was taken into another familiar room, one of the rooms that adjoined the sheik’s living space.

There were several women present there in the room, sitting among pillows that had been placed along the wall. The women’s expressions were like masks of pleasure, but their eyes were flat. When he met one of their gazes, the woman glared back.

She spoke under her breath in Arabic to the one next to her and although he wasn’t fluent, he knew she was angry not to be chosen to share the sheik’s bed that night.

His gut clenched, her animosity could only mean one thing.

The muscular eunuchs had to practically drag him to where the sheik was seated. He began to thrash and fight again.

Not this, not again.

Held between the large men, Gavin glared defiantly at the large turbaned male, who lounged on a ruby red rug, supported by pillows, women feeding him. A thick moustache covered most of the sheik’s lips as they curved up in a patient smile. The man shook his head and laughed when Gavin kicked one of his captors, as if amused by a spoiled child.

The sheik waved for them to put him down across from where he sat. Shoved into pillows across from the turbaned man, Gavin fell back only to be pushed up into a seated position. A platter of sweet meats and fruit was placed in front of him, a large goblet of wine next to it. He didn’t eat, but remained stock still, hoping to regain his strength, before they tried to take him to the bed.

Suddenly strong hands grabbed his face from behind, and his arms were pulled back. He tried to keep his mouth shut, but his jaws were forced open, and one of the girls poured wine down his throat. By the strange taste Gavin knew it was drugged because almost immediately he began to see colors flashing, and the room swayed.

Morsel after morsel of food was placed in his mouth and the flavors exploded, everything tasted astonishing delicious. No longer able to form a coherent thought, he yearned for another drink and reached for the goblet. Someone picked it up and brought it back to his lips. He drank greedily from it, enjoying the savory explosion on his tongue.

“He is ready.”

Gavin heard the sheik speak, and considered reacting, but couldn’t remember why he should.

Lifted to his feet, a floating sensation overcame him as he was laid back onto ruby red satin sheets.