A DOOR slammed above Thomas, waking him. A faint scream.
He opened his eyes and stared into pitch darkness. For a moment he thought he was on the ship, hearing another round of fire. But the cold, damp floor under him pulled him back to this reality.
In the dungeon.
How long had he slept?
The scream came again, louder now. He sat up and caught his breath. Chelise?
No, that was impossible. Chelise was in the tribe’s hands, safe.
Or was she? He was fully awake now. Carlos had said that Johan was coming. Why?
Footsteps sounded overhead. A dim light wavered down the corridor. Boots on the stairs.
Thomas scrambled to his feet, lost his balance, fell against the wall, and pushed himself off. He hurried to the gate and gripped the bars. Torchlight glistened off wet rock walls. They were coming for him.
He saw Woref’s familiar face, glowing by the light of a torch he held in his left fist. His right hand grasped the end of a rope. So the time had come. He took a deep breath and stepped back from the bars.
Woref stared in through the bars. He had someone else behind him— another prisoner or a guard.
“The mighty Thomas of Hunter,” Woref said. “So clever. So brave. To come all this way for nothing. William is dead.”
“William?”
“You remember him. Tall. Green eyes. A weak fool who talks too much.
He convinced me to spare the tribe in exchange for you. I suppose you should be proud of him.”
Spare the tribe. What was the man speaking of? Thomas felt the blood leave his extremities.
“Surprised?” Woref said. “Imagine my surprise to find that you’d already given yourself up in exchange for the other albinos. You were sure you’d be safe as long as your whore was with the tribe.”
Thomas’s mind spun in dizzying circles.
“It appears the fearless commander of the Forest Guard has finally been outwitted.” Woref tugged on the rope. Chelise stumbled past him, lips quivering, hands bound. Something sharp, like fingernails or a claw, had drawn three streaks of blood on her right cheek. Her eyes were wide with terror, and the morst on her face was streaked with tears.
Thomas wavered on his feet. He couldn’t think straight.
“I thought you’d like to see her before I clean her up and deliver her to her father,” Woref said.
Thomas slammed into the bars. “Chelise . . . Oh, my dear . . .” He spoke to Woref. “How dare you hurt the daughter of Qurong!”
Woref’s smile faded. “So you still care for her. Did you really think the daughter of Qurong could ever return your pitiful love? No one told you that you’re an albino? She belongs to me, you filthy slab of flesh! And I can assure you that whatever doubts she might have entertained toward me have been removed.”
The terrible truth of their predicament washed over Thomas. Chelise could barely keep her eyes open. A single glance at her drooping face brought a tremble to his bones. Woref had abused her in ways he couldn’t guess.
His rage against Woref faded as he gazed at her. A terrible sorrow swept through his chest. “Chelise. I’m so sorry.” Tears blurred his vision. He sank to his knees.
“Forgive me, my love, forgive me,” she cried.
She was crying for him! He reached his hand through the bars.
A fist slammed against his arm, numbing it to the shoulder. Woref turned and slugged Chelise in the jaw. She fell back against the wall and groaned.
“Please, don’t hurt her!” Thomas’s eyes flooded with tears. This wasn’t what Woref had expected. Thomas’s love for Chelise, yes, but not Chelise’s love for him. The general stood trembling from head to foot.
Thomas lunged for the man through the bars. His face collided with cold bronze, but he managed a hand on the general’s leather breastplate.
Woref swung another fist—not at Thomas. At Chelise. It struck her in her side and she gasped.
Thomas fell back in horror.
“For your love of my wife, you will die a terrible, painful death,” the general said. He grabbed Chelise by the hair and shoved her ahead of him, down the corridor.
She wasn’t his wife. She didn’t love him. She despised the beast who would enslave her. Thomas knew all of this. But he could do nothing except fall to the stone floor and weep.
Johan watched the twenty-four tribe members ride in single file down the rocky cliff pass. Suzan sat on a lathered horse on his right, and Mikil faced him on her own horse. Nearly two days had passed since the Horde army left them. They’d debated following but knew that whatever Thomas had intended was already done. And now here was proof. He’d traded himself for the twenty-four without knowing that Chelise had been taken.
Mikil had just learned about Chelise herself, and she was furious.
“He left her in your command! You’ve just signed his death!”
“Give me the right to use a sword and we would have escaped,” Johan said. “Woref outwitted us.” He frowned and spit to the side. “I should have known.”
“It’s my fault,” Suzan said. “I should have found the army, but they’d taken their prisoners. We honestly thought they were gone.”
“It’s done,” Johan said. “The question is how we help Thomas now.”
Mikil grunted and pulled her mount around. The tribe was running out to meet their family. Little did they know.
“As I see it, we have only one choice,” Johan said.
“I can tell you that any rescue won’t be easy,” Mikil said. “The city is braced for us. If Thomas isn’t dead already, he’s holed up somewhere only Woref knows about.”
“Then we die trying,” Johan said. “I couldn’t live knowing I let this happen.”
“I agree,” Suzan said. “William is likely in the dungeons as well. Or dead.”
“William?” Mikil demanded. “What happened to William?”
Johan told her. They could only assume that he’d agreed to betray Thomas knowing that Thomas was beyond being betrayed. He’d saved the tribe. He was a cantankerous troublemaker, but the Circle blood ran deep.
Mikil set her jaw. “Let me get Jamous. I need to bathe and saddle a fresh horse. Then we leave.”
Qurong stood over the bed, staring at his daughter, who slept peacefully. She was bruised and there was some bleeding on her scalp and on her cheek, but otherwise she was healthy, the doctor said. Woref had seen to it that she was freshly bathed and covered in morst when he brought her into the castle, draped across his arms.
His wife pulled the covers over Chelise’s shoulder. “We let her sleep.”
Qurong followed her into the hall. “She’s been brutalized!” Patricia whispered harshly. “Any fool can see that!”
“She was in captivity with the albinos. Of course she’s been brutalized. But she will be fine. You’ll see. She’ll probably be up this afternoon, running to the library or something. She’s a strong woman, like her mother.”
“I’m not so sure this is the work of albinos. Since when do they brutalize their prisoners?”
“Maybe she fell down a cliff, for all we know. Things happen in the desert. Woref thinks she might have fallen off a horse.” He came to the stairs and stopped. “She’s safe. I have gained my daughter back. Now let me go and see what I can do to keep her safe.”
“You would believe a goat that told you what you wanted to hear,” Patricia said. “My daughter would never defile herself. I’ll speak to them with you.”
He started to object but then decided he could use her. What Woref and Ciphus intended to prove, he didn’t know, but better two against two.
The chief priest and the commander of the armies waited for them in the dining room as instructed. They stood from the long table when Qurong pushed the door open. Both dipped their heads in respect.
Woref ’s face had been scratched. Three thin lines of blood seeped through the morst on his cheek. If Qurong wasn’t mistaken, he’d been bruised on his eye as well. This all since bringing Chelise in earlier. His commander had been beaten?
“I see you’ve taken the liberty of eating my fruit,” Qurong said.
“We were told . . .”
He waved Ciphus off. “Fine. My house is your house. At least when you’re invited.”
Patricia walked in and they bowed again, out of respect to Qurong, not to his wife. If she had come alone, they would treat her like any other wife. Patricia had never approved of the custom, but none of her outrage had changed it. Men were honored over women; it had always been so.
“What is this all about?” Patricia demanded.
Woref glanced at Ciphus, who nodded. The snake would always defer, Qurong thought. His backside was his only holy relic, and he would cover it well.
“There are some things that you should know, my lord,” Woref said. “I took the liberty of counseling Ciphus before I came to you.”
“Yes, of course. Spit it out.”
“It’s the condition of your daughter. I can tell you after bringing her to safety that she is not herself. I fear she’s been bewitched by the Circle. By what manner of torture or brutality, I don’t know, but she woke up once screaming terrible lies. Her mind’s been tampered with.”
“What kind of lies?” Patricia demanded harshly.
“Lies of all kinds. She accused me of capturing her when, of course, it was the albinos who captured her. She said that I struck her and dragged her by the hair, something I wouldn’t think of doing to my bride. She thinks the albinos are her friends and we are her enemies.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” his wife said. “If she said that you slapped her, I would believe her! How many women have you hit before, Woref?”
He looked at Qurong, shocked by her accusation. “That is hardly the point, I assure you. She’s been bewitched!” His face flushed. “How dare you accuse me of mistreating the woman I would die for!”
They stared, facing off.
Qurong intervened. “Ciphus, what are your thoughts on this bewitching? Is it possible?”
“The mind is a delicate thing, prone to deception. Yes, I think it is possible. It wouldn’t surprise me at all. Give her time and she will come to. Her heart is something else, of course. Sins of the mind are forgivable. Sins of the heart are not.”
“I still don’t trust you,” Patricia said, glaring at Woref. “If you are to have any peace as my son-in-law, you’d better learn how to correct that. And if you ever treat my daughter like you do your other women, I will see you drowned myself.”
For a moment Qurong wondered if Woref would lose control of himself. This was what his wife wanted, of course. She would do whatever was necessary to earn the man’s indebtedness; then she would use her advantage however she saw fit.
Qurong smiled. “Welcome to the family. And for the record, I agree with my wife. Harm one hair on her head and you will drown, Woref.” He paused. “But I’m sure you didn’t come simply out of concern for Chelise. Exactly why are we here? I would think both of you would be as pleased as I am. We have Thomas, and now that we know how the albinos think, we will leverage him to bring the entire Circle to its knees. Chelise is safe. All is good.”
Woref didn’t seem able to talk. Ciphus answered for him. “My lord, there is one matter that you should consider. Your daughter’s mind is one thing, as I said. But if she has committed treason—”
“I don’t want to hear this!” Patricia said, marching past them toward the kitchen. She turned back. “If you dare suggest that my daughter has any feelings for that wretched beast, I’ll cut your tongue out. She could never love an albino. Never!”
“Of course not. Because if she did, she would have to pay the price required by law.”
“You heard my wife!” Qurong said. “Chelise is incapable of loving an albino! If she did, I would drown her myself. Are you going to continue with this nonsense?”
Ciphus dipped his head. “I’m only doing my duty as your loyal priest, my lord. Just so you remember that no law is above Elyon’s law, as all the Horde knows.”
“Fine. Are you finished?”
Woref was seething, and Qurong thought it odd. Surely he’d been forthcoming. Neither answered him.
“Then get out! Both of you. I don’t want to hear of this again.”
They stepped back, bowed, and left the room.
“How dare they?” his wife snapped.
“They dare because they are far more powerful than you may realize,” he said. “This religion and this Elyon of his may be a lot of nonsense, but we used it to our benefit to control the people. This on pain of death, that on pain of death . . . the whole system one of threats and rewards dictated by some god we can’t see. Ciphus is the only one the people see. His word is nearly as powerful as mine.”
“Then it’s time you threw him out!”
“So the people could throw me out?”
“You have an army! Squash the people.”
“The army are the people! I’ve put Elyon above me, and they prefer it that way. They feel less captive. They’re serving a god, not a man.”
He picked up a green pear and took a bite. “Power is always in the balance, my wife. I no longer have the power to upset that balance. Not if it works against me.”