Chapter 16 #2
“You should have tried harder!”
“I don’t think I can do this to her.” Casyl’s voice wavered. “Curse it. I was weak, and my senses were impaired. What am I going to do?”
“You shouldn’t have been alone with her. We shouldn’t even be talking about this,” Tharos hissed. “There’s not a lot you can do now.”
They left the tent.
He saw her.
She was fighting a warrior in the camp. He watched, mesmerised, as she danced gracefully with the wooden sword.
She smiled when she won, knocking Valaen to the floor. It transformed her face.
He wanted to dance with her. His legs carried him to the circle of men who stood watching.
He saw her hesitation when he challenged her. She was furious with him, as she rightly should have been. He wished it could be different.
Her swordsmanship had improved, but he wouldn’t insult her by holding back. He knocked her to the floor.
He’d regret that.
His resolve lasted until she followed him into the tent and tended the wound she had reopened. Her gentleness dismantled what remained of his restraint, and afterwards he knew Tharos had been right, and Tiryn would destroy her with whatever Casyl felt.
*
The king arrived in splendour, decked in his finest armour—armour he hadn’t worn for a long time.
He’d brought reinforcements, but Casyl knew he was only there to gloat over the impending victory.
He’d heard about their last battle and wanted to be there to witness it, the victory that Casyl would win for him.
Casyl wondered how his father had found out, as he had deliberately sent him no word.
Spies. It would be naive to think otherwise. General Salkin was there after all, a close friend of his father’s.
Casyl stood waiting patiently to greet him and to show him around the camp as his royal tent was erected. Casyl never bothered with such frivolous things.
He’d brought the beast with him. Casyl eyed the cage warily. This was his father’s pet. His sick and twisted pet, which he used perversely to fight for him. It was a cowardly way to fight, but the king hadn’t seen hand-to-hand combat for centuries.
He shuddered.
A feast was planned to honour their victory.
He slipped away to find Amelia. He’d placed her in Danae’s tent as she’d be safer there than near him, for now.
There were so many things that he wanted to say but couldn’t for fear of endangering her and others.
*
The battle started and ended in the morning. They were soon chasing the enemy army into their retreat.
The enemy released Werehounds into the fight, vicious creatures trained for battle. It was their last hope of turning the battle around, but they hadn’t known of the king’s vicious pet.
He hated that his father used it. He’d become powerful at controlling it.
They would have won without the beast, anyway. It was a dirty tactic. It bothered him what others would say, how they used unclean magic to win, even though they’d stooped pretty low themselves. The only consolation was that the beast would end the battle sooner, sparing some of his men.
They chased the enemy far enough to drive them closer to the High City, where they would undoubtedly return to lick their wounds.
They moved their camp closer to the mountains, ready for the next step in the king’s plan.
Casyl wasn’t even sure what the plan was anymore.
They needed to discover how and where Amelia had entered their world.
If they didn’t, this would be for nothing, although any victory over King Elthar was a personal victory for the king.
They made camp, and the king announced another feast to celebrate their victory.
He rolled his eyes.
Casyl sat next to him at the table of honour along with other generals who were being celebrated for their parts in the battle. Danae sat not too far from Casyl, as did Tharos.
“After the feast, we’ll have the girl brought to us,” the king said to Casyl.
Casyl excused himself and went to find Ruven. He found him drinking at a campfire with the men. He would have joined him earlier if he could have.
He signalled for him to follow and led him into his tent.
The festivities continued around them, with the warriors drinking heavily and enjoying their night of freedom to celebrate victory. They deserved it, even if they didn’t know what they fought for. They’d battled hard and lost comrades.
Ruven followed him inside.
“What is it?” Ruven asked.
Casyl went to open the tent flap to check that no one had followed.
“I need you to get Amelia away,” Casyl said.
“What?”
Ruven was the only person he could turn to.
He trusted him implicitly and knew that he’d grown attached to Amelia himself.
It was hard to train someone so closely and not form a bond.
He knew that by doing this he was effectively sealing his own fate, but getting her away would be worth it.
He had lived long enough under his father’s shadow and no longer cared whether he survived beneath it.
Hundreds, perhaps thousands, could die for his father’s greed.
But this one fragile life, he could not sacrifice.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow, but it’s bad, and it involves Amelia. She’s going to get hurt. I don’t know how, but I’m not willing to let that happen. Are you?”
“Why would she be harmed?”
“The king plans to use her to get back into the human lands. If he does that, he’s going to destroy everyone and everything.”
“I thought we were going to help her return. That we were fighting this war to stop them from killing her.”
“Did you forget about the Lifesource? You really think that the king would do all of this with nothing to gain?” Casyl looked at him, pleading. “Do I really need to order you to do this for me, for her?”
Ruven exhaled hard. “You know you don’t, but it’s no simple task you’ve given me.”
“Get her away tonight, when the camp’s asleep. She will hopefully be able to find where she entered our world. You’ll need to go into the forest towards the mountain to reach it. Be careful.”
Ruven nodded.
Casyl walked over and grabbed his shoulders. “Thank you, brother.”
They returned to the camp, Ruven rejoining his men and Casyl rejoining the feast.
When the feast had ended and the tent had cleared, the king ordered Amelia to be brought to them.
The knot in his stomach grew.
Two guards entered the tent, bringing Amelia with them. Her hands trembled, but he tried not to look at her too intently. He didn’t want to draw his father’s attention.
He listened, lips pressed tightly together, as his father kept up the charade of returning her to her world.
She searched his face for reassurance. He lowered his head before his expression betrayed him.
He wouldn’t lie to her.
He forced himself to breathe slowly as his pulse throbbed in his neck.
The king noticed her attention shift towards Casyl. He turned his cold eyes towards him, and that’s when Casyl knew that he had made a mistake.
He was suspicious. That was all it would take.
Amelia was dismissed.
The king walked directly towards Casyl, then lunged for him like a striking snake. Casyl dodged, backing away.
“What are you doing?” Casyl snarled.
“I think the question is, what have you done?” the king retorted.
His father was about to see everything that he’d been hiding.
“Guards!” the king yelled, and they entered, blocking the tent exit. These were the king’s personal guards. They might respect Casyl, but they wouldn’t hesitate to do what the king ordered. “Make sure he doesn’t leave.”
They stood, weapons drawn, ready.
Casyl could fight them easily, but all the king needed to do was to place his hand on him and he’d come undone. All his secrets, memories, everything, would be his to rummage through.
He made a dash for it, hoping he’d be able to get through. They grabbed him, and the king lunged, his hand gripping Casyl’s shoulder, and his body sagged to his knees. He tried to fight him, to push him away mentally, but he was stronger.
His memories were sorted and discarded until the king found what he was looking for. Casyl watched helplessly as his memory of Amelia replayed for the king.