Chapter 24
Theo
A nervous energy skittered through Theo as he plunged his hand into the water streaming from the faucet.
He breathed in, a glob of blood instantly shooting down his throat.
A cough tore through his chest. He bathed away the blood, feeling the bridge of his nose.
The outer edges were already starting to grow puffy.
It was all his fault. He kept her preoccupied with healing Esaias and didn’t recognize anyone else coming down with the disease. He released a shaky breath and stared at his reflection. His father had to see reason. Amaris had cured Esaias. She didn’t deserve Bennet’s treatment.
He left the safety of his room and rapped on Esaias’s door. He needed him and couldn’t face Bennet and his father alone.
Esaias’s stomping feet carried through the hall as he pulled open the door. “What in the bloody realm are you bothering me this early for?” He rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
If Theo’s muscles weren’t about to jump from his skin, he would’ve stopped and gawked at his rapid healing, but he pushed past him.
“By all means, make yourself at home.” Esaias stepped toward his wardrobe. He threw on a clean set of clothes and crossed the room to draw back the curtains.
Theo grasped the hilt of his dagger as he took a seat on the edge of Esaias’s bed, his thoughts spinning out of control. I fight and I live. He inhaled deeply and attempted to stifle the beginnings of his panic.
“What happened?” Esaias leaned against the back of a chair, letting out a cough as he hunched forward.
“I need you.”
Esaias’s eyes widened against the dreary morning soaking through the window. “What’s wrong?”
Theo rubbed at his eyes. “I did something foolish.”
“That’s hardly new.”
“With your recovery, I shouldn’t ask this of you, but I need you to come with me to my father’s study.”
“Theo, what did you do?”
Each pulse of his heart threatened to slice at the stitch in his mind, tearing it open inch by inch. “What I needed to. I’ll explain later, but my father and Bennet are already waiting.”
Esaias narrowed his eyes. Theo pushed off the bed and headed out into the hall before he could further pry.
“What happened?”
Theo stopped. “Bennet is furious with me.” Gris was usually the one to accompany him in meetings, but not now. Once again, he tried to stamp out the growing anxiety within him, but it seeped from him, crawling up his neck. “I need someone who has my back.”
“Why?” Esaias asked. “And why do you look like you were in a brawl?”
Theo’s feet were silent as he strode through the halls and bolted down the stairs.
“If you’re asking this of me, at least tell me why,” Esaias shouted from the top of the stairs.
Theo stopped at the bottom. He needed to control himself, his panic, the beast. Bennet wanted him to get worked up, using it to his advantage.
Theo turned over his shoulder and gazed at him, his cousin, the one who he saw more as a brother than even Luther or Jeremiah.
“Because I came between Bennet and Amaris.”
Theo tore through the last few halls with Esaias in tow. He came to a stop outside his father’s study. His palms were slick with sweat as he reached for the handle. He pushed open the door, and his chest tightened.
His father sat with his hands laced over his stomach, glaring at Theo and Esaias. The door closed behind them with a slam, but it wasn’t only Bennet and his father in the meeting. Gerard, Ward, and a couple of Bennet’s most loyal soldiers stood around the room with Sephardi posted in the corner.
“Theo?” Esaias whispered in warning.
Theo gave him a stern look. He stood before his father, crossing his arms over his chest. There was nowhere for him to face besides him.
He didn’t have the luxury of controlling the room and keeping his distance.
Five of Bennet’s soldiers were all within an arm’s length.
Any icy chill creeped up his back as his father cleared his throat.
“I hear you interfered in Bennet’s arrest?” he said, his voice dark and gravely.
“Yes, sir.” Theo gave his father the respect he wanted. There wasn’t room for games.
“Why did you interfere?”
Theo forced a breath as his body attempted to shake. “Amaris cured Esaias of his scrying fever. Bennet is wrongly accusing her of killing one of his men. He claims she—”
“I’m aware of this incident with scrying fever,” his father interrupted, eyeing Esaias beside Theo. “What I want to know is why you felt the need to attack one of your officers?”
Esaias went rigid, and Theo felt his eyes straining on him. All the eyes in the room were, and it made his skin crawl. His hand twitched. He balled it into a fist to fight the monster. He didn’t know why he’d attacked Gerard, why he’d felt the need to throw Amaris behind him.
“It isn’t Amaris’s fault. She didn’t know.” Theo kept the bite from his tone as sweat dripped down his back.
“Are you certain?” his father asked, his voice rising. “I asked you to learn who she is, and you defend her instead.” He slammed his fist against the desk, rattling the vase of dead snowdrops. The decrepit stems shook and scattered wilted petals.
“She couldn’t defend herself. Someone had to.”
“I won’t have this among my soldiers,” his father rasped.
“Sir,” Sephardi interrupted.
The room fell silent as everyone focused on where she stood strong in the corner.
She inclined her head and passed a glance to the others in the room.
“The soldier Bennet speaks of never came to Miss Carter about his condition. He was only showing signs of a simple illness for days and sprouted the rash last night. He was on sentry duty with me, and I tried to send him to Miss Carter. He refused and said he wouldn’t be treated by the likes of her. He died in the night.”
Theo’s stiff spine belied the shaking in his legs. He refused to allow himself to buckle before his father.
“Then, Corporal Salter, will you escort Miss Carter from the dungeon to the gardens.”
“The gardens?” Theo stammered.
“Twenty-five lashings,” his father declared.
Theo’s heart skipped a beat.
“For both of you. Do you really think you two were careful last night?” He dragged his finger along the desk, rubbing at the accumulated dust. “Were you planning to help her escape?”
“No, I—”
“She’s lucky a lashing is all she’ll receive for—”
“I’ll take her punishment.”
Stunned, his father’s eyes narrowed, and their mismatched nature was demonic.
“You can’t—” Bennet began.
“According to the law, I can. If a penance shall be bestowed upon an individual, it is the right of a tenant to accept the punishment of another,” Theo recited the law, knowing it like the back of his hand.
He had it memorized for the purpose of one day getting Adelaide out of trouble with her constant rebellion.
“You’ll take all fifty lashes?” his father growled.
“Yes,” Theo said, drawing back his shoulders. He’d never received more than ten before.
“You feel a duty to protect her? A murderer over your own people?” his father yelled.
“That sounds like treason to me.” Bennet’s voice radiated through the room.
Theo’s head whipped to the side. Bennet resided in the corner, leaning against the bookcase with his hands gripping his belt. Theo started, “You can’t believe—”
Gerard stepped toward Theo with a raised hand.
Theo snapped. The beast crawled from his bones, taking over.
Without thought, his hand retrieved his dagger and flourished it against Gerard.
Two pairs of strong hands gripped Theo’s arms and yanked him to his knees.
He managed to free himself from one of their holds as the monster reached for Gerard’s throat.
A third took hold of his hand, bending it back and pinching his shoulder.
“Is this seriously how you want this to go? Throwing your life away for a woman?” his father bellowed.
The soldiers tugged at Theo’s arms, and a shout escaped.
Their hands were like iron shackles against his wrists.
Their heavy respirations were like the whistling wind of Mosfelkov against the prison walls.
Darkness crept into Theo’s vision. He fought it.
He fought them. They pulled harder, like the chains when they’d stretched his arms.
“I won’t go back,” Theo cried, but he didn’t know who could even hear him as the chamber in Rongstad Prison appeared around him. Once again, he was their prisoner, forced to his breaking point. A cry rippled from his chest, and tears burned behind his eyes.
What is he talking about? a distant echo asked.
Theo gasped as the chains pulled at his arms and footsteps thumped down the steps.
His world was obscured in the red haze of his blood as it dripped down his forehead from his last session.
A single lantern hung in the corner above the table of instruments, taunting and reminding.
The steps grew louder, and Theo’s body trembled, knowing what was to come.
He couldn’t do it anymore, feel the bite of the blade as it cut into his skin, carving out every bit of his soul.
You need to get him to Amaris, a voice cracked.
A hand squeezed Theo’s face, but it was only his imagination as his interrogator skulked closer, hiding within the shadows. Theo didn’t know his name. He was a phantom, instilling fear in Theo’s heart. The chains pulled tighter, and he let out an agonizing cry, tears spilling down his cheeks.
What’s wrong with him?
He wanted to drop his head, to allow his body to crumple to the ground, to lie in his own blood and piss, but his restraints held him tighter.
The dark boots brushed the edge of the poor illumination of the gray-stoned chamber.
A knife glinted from the darkness. The phantom stepped forward with a menacing grin.
He stretched his long fingers out, setting the other lanterns ablaze.
“No,” Theo shouted, his feet attempting to scramble beneath him, but he couldn’t move. “Just kill me.”
The phantom gripped his face. He was nothing more than an evil smudge against the realm, placed there for one purpose, to torture the living.
The chains pulled tighter as Theo tried to fight and pull himself from the interrogator’s hand.
The scent of blood leaked through his nose, along with the damp smell that permeated every pore of Theo’s body.
“What do you want from me?” he breathed, his voice growing hoarse.
The phantom smacked Theo across the face, the bite of his hand stinging against his burning flesh. “To find what breaks you.”
Theo’s body shook violently as the phantom dragged his knife across his chest, spilling his blood onto the floor. He knew how much to spill and how long to wait until Theo’s body was ready again.
He was fucking tortured, you bastards!
The phantom grabbed Theo’s hair and pulled back his head to face him. He dragged his knife along his skin but didn’t break the barrier to kill him.
He needs a sedative! Another distant echo sounded from a dream of a life he’d known.
Theo tried to tear his head from the phantom’s gaze as black drool spilled down his chin. He screamed as the knife dragged across his abdomen.
Take him outside!
The burning smell of his flesh flooded Theo’s nose. The blood dripped down his temple and smeared across his eyes, further coating the room around him in a crimson hue.
“Please,” he begged, his voice a raspy cry. The shackles chafed against his wrists as they spread his arms farther apart. His body shook with the pain. He wanted to die. If he passed out, his torturer would only inject his concoction into Theo’s blood to rally his mind.
He had no concept of time in the dark-infested room. Days, seasons, or even years could’ve passed. The fact Theo had little strength within his body proved it’d been at least longer than only hours.
The phantom stepped behind him and a hot iron rod pressed against his back. Theo screamed, but it was no longer a bloodcurdling cry. It came out only as a hoarse whimper.
I fight and I live.
“I wonder when your father will beg for your release.” His voice was like a serpent’s hiss. The phantom thrusted his fist into Theo’s abdomen, taking all the breath from his lungs.
Theo needed to keel over, but the chains held his body.
His head hung, the blood dripping to the floor and filth at his knees.
“You don’t know my father well if you think he’d negotiate for me.
” The rod smacked against his back. The pain from the intense contact and heat threatened to pull him into oblivion.
“You cannot leave so soon, Lieutenant. There is much to discuss.”
He jabbed Theo’s arm with his vile mixture. Theo’s heart raced to his ears, his blood boiled to the surface, and his eyes widened.
A thin lash whipped across Theo’s back, a cry escaping him. “Kill me and get it over with,” he cried.
“You are more valuable than you realize.” The phantom took his jagged dagger and dug it into the flesh of Theo’s arm.
He screamed, and whatever resided in the tonic kept his senses alert and his chest moving. I fight and I live. The phantom dragged the blade down Theo’s arm, eliciting a cry he’d never heard come from himself before.