Capture (10 page)

As soon as Fimor relayed the message, Eldin and his dragon turned sharply and angled down toward the ground. Selene and her dragon, Kalesh, went next, and Fimor followed after them. Kalesh and Fimor were two of the fastest dragons in the Eyrie. They were a little smaller than the others, but quicker and more agile—more able to dart in and protect Eldin while he was on the ground.

Nykin watched closely as Eldin slid off his dragon and hurried over to the nearest group of soldiers. They’d caught Ryneq’s horse and were checking him over for any clues as to what had happened.

“Who do you think’s in charge now?” Nykin couldn’t really recognize any of them from so high up, especially when they were covered in dirt and, in some cases, blood.

“With the king gone, it would normally fall to his second-in-command, but Nysad has gone with the princess. I’m afraid I’m not very familiar with the chain of command in the Royal Guard.”

One of the guard met Eldin halfway, and Nykin would have loved to know what they were saying. They pointed over to the forest in what looked to be a heated discussion before Eldin clapped the guard on the shoulder and hurried back over to his dragon.

“Well, what did they say?” Nykin asked as soon as Eldin was in the
air.

Fimor was quiet for a few moments, and Nykin fidgeted in his seat as he waited. Eldin had rejoined the rest of the dragons up above, and Fimor automatically followed after Selene again so all of them were now circling high up in the sky.

“Eldin is the highest-ranking officer, even though he’s not a member of the guard. They think the king is either lying injured in the forest or has been captured by the lowland armies, so Eldin has ordered the majority of the guard to go back and search for any sign of him.”

Nykin glanced down, just in time to see the mass of dark shapes disappear back into the trees. “And the rest of us?”

“Two riders will remain here circling the area and ready to relay any news when the guards come back. We are to return to the castle though.”

“But—”

“Nykin, we’ll find him. But if he’s been taken, we’ll need to plan a rescue, not run in blind.”

Nykin sighed. He knew Fimor made sense, but as they headed back to the palace, his chest tightened with the awful knowledge that they were leaving Ryneq behind.

N
YKIN
REMAINED
silent most of the way back to the Eyrie, his mind running through all the reasons that Ryneq’s horse might have come out of the forest without him. Fimor didn’t have anything to say either.

The landing caves were busy with nearly all the dragons being out, and it took them a few attempts before finding an empty one. As soon as they settled inside the cave, Nykin swung his leg over and slid off Fimor’s back. He rested against the warm red scales of Fimor’s side for a moment before reaching up to undo the clasps of the harness.

“Do you think they took him, Fimor?” Nykin pulled the harness off and placed it carefully down onto the floor of the cave. “Or do you think he’s….” Nykin trailed off, unable to say the words out loud.

Fimor nudged Nykin gently, bumping his wing against Nykin’s shoulder.
“He’s not dead, Nykin. I would know.”

“How?”

“As dragons of Torsere, we are also connected to the royal family, although not as you and I are connected. But if anything fatal happened to either Cerylea or Ryneq, we would all know.”

They’d seen Cerylea disappear back into the forest immediately after the explosions and before the fighting began. Nykin was confident that Nysad would have gotten her to safety. He relaxed a little at Fimor’s words, though, knowing that for now, at least, Ryneq was alive. But for how long?

“Go put my harness away and join the other riders, Nykin. I will call you if I sense anything.”

H
OURS
PASSED
with no word. Nykin had decided to clean Fimor’s harness to pass the time, because waiting for news with the other riders had done nothing except put his nerves on edge. He was in the middle of hanging it on the wall when Selene suddenly appeared at the entrance to the storeroom. She was out of breath and leaned on the wall for a few seconds before speaking. Nykin raised an eyebrow at her.

“Just wait… ran here….” She sucked in a couple more lungfuls of air. “When you’ve finished here… you need to come down to the great hall.”

“What for?”

“They know where Ryneq is.”

T
HE
GROUND
was cold and hard underneath Ryneq’s cheek as he slowly returned to consciousness. The air around him smelled damp and musty. It definitely wasn’t the forest floor, so he’d obviously been taken somewhere else. He slowly opened his eyes and tried to lift his head, but his vision swam and a wave of nausea washed over him, so he quickly dropped it back down.

“Fuck.” He gingerly reached up to touch the side of his head and winced as his fingers came away sticky with blood. His left shoulder throbbed painfully too, and he could just about see out of the corner of his eye that a crude bandage was wrapped around it. Ryneq doubted very much that the wound had been cleaned properly and wondered if an infection would kill him before his captors did.

The last thing he remembered was riding after his men through the forest. He thought they’d taken care of the last of the soldiers behind them, but they must have missed some. Ryneq lay still on the ground and tried to ignore the pounding in his head as he took in his surroundings.

It looked like he was in a cell, roughly eight feet square, with a small barred window and a thick wooden door preventing any escape. Sunlight streamed in from the window, so assuming it was still the same day, he hadn’t been here long. A narrow bed was shoved up against the far wall, and there was a bucket over in the corner. Not the sort of accommodation he was used to, but then he doubted he was here as a guest.

Ryneq carefully rolled onto his back, biting into his lip to keep silent as his wounds came into contact with the ground. He hissed at the sudden sharp pain in his shoulder, wondering what he’d done to it exactly… and then it all came back to him in a rush.

The knife had caught him by surprise, and he’d lost his grip on the reins. Dread settled in the pit of Ryneq’s stomach as he recalled the face of the man leaning over him before he was knocked unconscious.

Hatak.

Hatak was the leader of the Athisian army. He’d taken control of Athisi when their king was found dead, and Ryneq was almost positive Hatak was responsible for it. Although Ryneq had only met him once—many years ago when Ryneq’s father had attempted to form a treaty with the Athisian King—it seemed neither of them had forgotten. Hatak was cruel and ruthless, and getting captured by him was about the worst thing that could have happened. Hatak obviously wanted information from Ryneq—otherwise he’d be dead by now—and Ryneq was under no illusions about the lengths Hatak would go to get it.

Ryneq stiffened as he heard muffled voices and footsteps outside in the passageway. They got louder and louder, coming to a halt directly behind the door to his cell. He quickly closed his eyes, feigning unconsciousness, as the door was unlocked and creaked open.

“Oi, wake up!” There was a moment’s pause before ice-cold water hit Ryneq square in the face, making him cough and gasp at the shock. “
Your Highness.
”

Ryneq wiped the water from his eyes and glared at his visitor—a Rodethian soldier by the look of him, proving beyond a doubt that the two kingdoms were definitely still working together. “Come on,
Sire,
there’s someone who wants to talk to you.”

He just closed his eyes again and rolled onto his side, away from the guard. “I have nothing to say.”

The guard laughed loudly. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.” He walked into the cell and kicked Ryneq’s legs in the process. “Oreth, come and help me get him up.” Another guard appeared, moaning about having to leave his food, and between the two of them they hauled Ryneq to his feet. “Don’t get any ideas. You’ll be dead before you can make it outside.”

Ryneq almost rolled his eyes. His stomach roiled, he had a concussion, and his shoulder was in agony as they manhandled him out of the room. He was in no shape to try and escape. Yet.

He let his head hang down as they dragged him along through the passages. The floor was smooth stone under his feet. From what he could see, the walls were slightly worn-looking stone bricks, with small windows every five paces or so. They were probably in a castle, and considering they didn’t seem to have gone too far, Ryneq guessed they were just over the Rodethian border.

It seemed to take forever, turning left and right, and Ryneq had no idea which direction they were headed. But finally they entered a large open room, and the guards deposited him none too gently onto a chair set out in the middle of the floor.

“I’d make myself comfortable if I was you,” one of the guards sneered as he roughly tied Ryneq’s hands together, the harsh rope cutting into his skin. “You could be here for some time.” The guard stepped back, letting Ryneq’s hands drop down onto his thighs.

Ryneq ignored him in favor of closing his eyes and concentrating on breathing in and out as he fought to keep his emotions in check. Everything hurt from where he’d fallen off his horse. His head and shoulder throbbed with a dull ache, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up and pass out again. But the two soldiers had been staring at him curiously, obviously enjoying his discomfort. He was the King of Torsere, and he’d be damned if they saw him cowering before them—no matter how worried he might be about what was to come.

Ryneq sat up straighter in his chair—shoulders back—and refused to show any of the pain that shot through his body. He kept his eyes closed and listened hard to everything around him, trying to glean any information on where he might be. The soldiers were still talking about him. They took turns offering up ideas about what Hatak might do to Ryneq first, no doubt trying to scare him, but Ryneq tuned them out. If he listened hard enough, he was sure he could hear rushing water—more than likely the Neest River—and that meant they’d followed the path of the river inland. Ryneq was aware of only one castle that was built along the river and this close to the border, and if he was right, then his chances of escape or rescue were virtually nonexistent.

He had no idea how much time had elapsed since he’d first been brought in here, but he must have passed out again at some point, because the next time he opened his eyes, there were two more people entering the room. Captain Hatak, all lean limbs and short dark hair, eyed Ryneq with undisguised interest as he walked in. The hulking figure of King Seran of Rodeth followed after. Seran smirked at Ryneq, setting his nerves on edge. He gritted his teeth and steeled himself for what was about to happen.

“King Ryneq, how nice of you to join us.” Seran walked forward a few paces to stand in front of him. “I do apologize for your earlier treatment. Those responsible have been… dealt with.”

Ryneq looked down at his shoulder where part of his dirty uniform had been cut away and a clean bandage was now wrapped tightly around the wound. He reached up to the side of his head, as best he could, to find that it, too, was now cleaned and bandaged. He must’ve been unconscious to miss all of that. Though he had no idea why Seran was pretending to show him a king’s courtesy. Ryneq rubbed his fingers over his eyes and sighed, trying to appear like he wasn’t currently tied up and about to be tortured. “Whatever it is you want, Seran, I’m not going to give it to you.” He had a fair idea what they wanted. Hatak and Seran obviously knew why Ryneq was escorting Cerylea to Hervath, but he wasn’t going to make it easy for them.

Seran leaned down, close to Ryneq’s ear so only he could hear him. “You’re going to die if you don’t talk, Ryneq. And Hatak is keen to make it as slow and painful as possible, so I suggest you answer.” Seran stood back up. “Where is Princess Cerylea?” His voice was much louder this time. Ryneq looked away, saying nothing.

Seran paced in front of him, pausing to turn and face Ryneq before he spoke again. “We know you were taking her to Hervath to be joined with Prince Morkryn.” He took a few more steps and then stopped. “We also know she didn’t make it back to the Stone Palace.”

Ryneq couldn’t stop his reaction. His head shot up, and ignoring the flare of pain it caused, he glared at Seran. How could they know that? How closely were they watching the palace?

Seran raised an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t you know?” He looked over at Hatak and laughed. “It seems our spies are more adept than we gave them credit for.”

Ryneq’s mind worked furiously to think whom they could possibly be talking about. But before he had a chance to come up with any names, Seran was in front of him again. “So if the lovely Cerylea isn’t at the palace, then where is she?”

Ryneq remained silent.

Hatak leaned lazily against the far wall, watching with what looked like amused interest. “Leave me alone with him and I’m sure I can get him to talk.”