Tyreth awoke to find her cough had subsided—her throat no longer sore and raw. Taking a deep breath, she discovered a sweet taste in her mouth flowing through to her lungs. It had not been a dream after all. During the night someone had actually come to her cell, roused her from a fitful sleep and helped her to drink from a vial. She had recognized the vial of medicine as something she had been given as a child from the old man who had been the palace healer in Kadir. In the previous night, however, the voice urging her to accept the medicine was that of a younger woman. The only thing that made any sense was that the young man who had fed her the hot stew had sent one of his friends back with the medicine, perhaps his own counterpart.
Thinking back Tyreth could recall that after the liquid, they had told her about a special herb that would help her breathe easy and sleep through the night. Something pungent was tucked in her mouth and Tyreth did not resist. A gentle hand on the side of cheek and the young woman’s kind voice had encouraged her to chew, releasing a comforting vapor that cleared out her sinuses and helped her to breathe easier.
A packet had been pressed into her hand, but now it was gone. Feeling on the floor at her side, Tyreth located a small cloth bag. Lifting it to her face, she breathed in the aroma of the herbs from the night before. Tugging the drawstring open, she pulled out one of the soft orbs and tucked it into her cheek.
During the night, before the mysterious girl had left, she had touched her forehead to Tyreth’s and whispered a promise that she would return to take Tyreth away just as soon as Tyreth was strong enough to walk. Recalling those hopeful words, a deep sense of peace flowed through Tyreth along with the calming effects of the medicine in her cheek. She chewed it a few times to release more of the herbs, then breathed deeply to let it circulate through her lungs. With a contented smile, she pulled her blanket close to her chin. She would sleep and rest while she waited for the young woman to return for her.
She was drifting into a deep sleep when the sound of running feet echoed in the hall. Before she could rouse herself, the door to her cell creaked opened, someone knelt beside her and grasped her shoulder.
“You need to get up right away,” a man’s voice urged—the guard who had brought her the food was back.
He helped Tyreth sit up. “Did your friends agree to help me escape?” she asked. “A woman came here last night some medicine and . . .”
“We don’t have female guards and I didn’t send anyone last night,” he interrupted, but now there’s of the Rozan council inquiring about you at the prison gates. It sounds like our leader sent him because they haven’t found anyone to become his counterpart. A friend of mine is trying to stall the man by telling him you refused to eat so we decided to just leave you up down here. He said we believe you have been dead for some time so there is no point in checking out your cell, but the councilor is insisting. No doubt he will be here very soon. We must hide you in the next cell and drag those bones in right . . .”
The sound of heavy footsteps rose from the far end of the hall.
“He’s coming!” her guard hissed. “Lie perfectly still and he might still believe you are dead, or at least too weak to stand for a ceremony.”
Scrambling to his feet, they young guard ran from her cell. Tyreth lay back, tipping her head toward the wall so her face could not be easily seen. She felt the medallion slip past the neckline of her tunic but there was no time to hide it away under her mat. Tucking it back underneath, she pushed out her arms and legs at odd angles, as if she was too weak to move, or possibly dead, then held perfectly still, breathing as shallow as possible. Thankfully the urge to cough was completely gone.
“Just up here to the left.” Her young guard was speaking loudly from beyond her cell door. “Judging from the smell, I think we are too late.”
Footsteps drew close, then a light flickered on the wall over Tyreth’s face.
“It was a desperate idea anyway.” A deeper voice intoned, and the face that came to Tyreth’s mind was one of the older advisors to the Rozan leader.
“We might as well leave her body here,” her guard said in reply. “The tarken will come soon enough. They are quick to sense death and decay, as you can see from the bones in the cell across the way. It is by far the easiest way to dispose of a body.”
“Yes,” the older man mused. “And the vermin are growing in numbers and size.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“Most of the guards won’t even come down this way anymore,” her guard said, dropping his voice. “Lately, an exceptionally large grey one has been showing at the far end of the passage. Nobody wants to meet it in the dark and none of our glow globes are working well enough to chase it off. It would be best if we leave.”
The older man only grunted and Tyreth heard sword being pulled from a sheath. Did he intend to make sure she was dead or was he also afraid of the large rodent?
The cell grew still. What was the man doing?
In the silence, Tyreth picked up a faint scratching noise moving along the floor near her head. Something moved in the flickering shadows next to the base of the wall. Two thin appendages appeared, felt their way up the wall, then tensed to haul the round body of fist sized Entosk spider into sight.
Tyreth stifled a gasp. The bite of an Entosk, even a baby one like this, was extremely painful and in her weakened state, might even kill her. Why weren’t the men leaving?
“His original plan was only to put her here and frighten her into agreeing to join him,” the advisor said. “The man cannot be swayed from his belief that to become the ruler of Rozan and the great Cor-Van, he must have a counterpart. It’s too bad she died. We need to get this foolishness over with so we can make our move on Kadir.”
The spider moved sideways and out of sight. Kate focused her attention on keeping still, hoping it was leaving for good.
“It appears you will need to keep looking,” her guard stated. “I do hope our leader does not blame the prison guards. We were only following our orders to put her far away from any other prisoners and feed her little. We were not given any extra allotment for her, and no one was willing to share theirs.”
“These are desperate times,” the old man said with a note of sorrow. “I never thought the people of Rozan would stoop this low.”
The light shifted and shadows fell across her face. Finally, they were leaving her cell.
As the door creaked, a thin white tentacle appeared above Tyreth, hovered a second, then attached itself firmly to her cheek. Another followed onto the corner of her lip and a third shot forward to grip the tip of her nose.
With a sudden involuntary spasm of flailing arms, Tyreth sat up and knocked the spider from her face. She watched it scuttled under the bars of her cell, then turned her head to look up into the faces of her guard and an old man, staring in shock at her sudden resurrection.
The old man raised his eyebrows. “It appears she still has enough life in her to make it through a wedding ceremony. I will let our leader know we are ready to proceed.”
Tyreth looked helplessly at her guard. He gave his head a small shake, then addressed the other man. “If that is the plan, we should move her down to a holding cell where she can clean up and get a proper meal. It won’t please him if she smells this bad and passes out at his wedding due to hunger.”
The old man nodded as he moved out of the cell. “Do as you say, but keep the other guards away from her. You alone will oversee getting her ready. I will send for her as soon as I know our leaders’ intentions, but it could be very soon.”
The two men left the cell and their light faded away down the hallway.
Tyreth waited until the darkness returned then pushed to her feet on shaky legs, wrapped her blanket around herself and stumbled to the door. In the available light from the purple moss outside her cell window she discovered the door had been left ajar. Had her guard intended for her to escape? Stepping into the gap, she looked down the long hall. Even if she could get past the prison guardhouse, there was nowhere to run, the passage to Kadir was closed off and she would still be trapped in Rozan.
A raspy growl to her left whipped her head around. As she stared into the dark recesses at the end of the hall, an incredibly large tarken slipped silently towards her. Its hairless grey skin glistened in the purple light and there was a glint of black around its neck. It had a collar, just as Corvan’s lizard did when she first set it free on top of Castle Rock.
Tyreth stepped back, shoved the door closed and heard the lock click into place.
The creature snarled at her, then stopped and stood in place a long moment while it studied her. Its beady black eyes focused on her chest and glancing down she found the glimmer of her medallion peeking out over the top of her tunic.
Covering the light with her hand, she glanced back to the hideous creature. It grinned at her, razor sharp teeth showing between narrow black lips. Then it spoke words that sounded like rusty metal grating together. It was unintelligible except for the words, ‘master” and ‘kill them all’.
Tyreth’s hand clenched the medallion tighter. She wanted to shout but someone would hear. “Go away!” she whispered hoarsely, hoping it that holding the medallion would force it to obey her.
It only snorted, sneered at her, then melted into the shadows.
Heart pounding, Tyreth stumbled back to the rags in the corner of the room and sank against the cold stone wall.
Holding the medallion up, she used its glow to look into the hallway but there was nothing to see. Laying back she gripped its light tightly. If she could sleep, she might be able to connect with Kate or Morgan in the chamber and ask for help, but now she was too afraid to let herself fall asleep.
Her only hope now was that the young guard would return quickly and move her to a safer place, far away from the evil creature that roamed freely at this end of the hall.
