Hostage (32 page)

“Wait.” Hersten motioned them back. “The way will be clear in a moment.”

They paused, waiting for the last guard to run past. No one heard the soft footfalls behind them. None felt the presence of another person—not until it was too late.

The first warning that something was wrong came when Astrin was literally lifted off his feet and found himself struggling in the arms of a huge man with skin the color of dark chocolate. Hair as black as night was twisted into long plaits, wound about with gold.

“Strebo,” Hersten growled. “Let my son go.”

Strebo Michael was a handsome man, with huge muscles that gleamed with oil and a face that could have been beautiful if it hadn’t been so cruel. He laughed, a bass rumble from deep within.

“Will you call your pup to heel, Hersten? I’d hate to have to whip him before we have been made acquainted. Be still, little one, and cease your foolish attempts to influence me with your pathetic, weak energy blasts. My shields have withstood far more than you could ever dream of throwing at me.”

“Maybe… I… ugh… can’t hurt you with… ugh… energy, but… I still… ungh… have energy to hurt you.”

Astrin tried to kick back at his captor and drove his elbow into Strebo’s rib cage, but the large man simply grinned and tightened his hold, crushing Astrin and driving the air from his lungs until he was left gasping.

“Let him go, Strebo.”

“When you have dropped your weapons and surrendered to me.”

“That’s not going to happen, Strebo. Your people seem to have other matters to attend to. There’s no one to help you, and there are four of us.”

“It would seem I am outnumbered and at a disadvantage,” Strebo said with another deep rumble, “but I have one thing that will guarantee my safety and your capitulation: I hold the life of Astrin Raphael in my hands.” To underline his point, he squeezed Astrin again, and although the boy tried hard not to, he cried out. “I don’t think any of you are prepared to gamble on that.”

“Don’t do it, Father. Don’t. I’m not worth it. Not your lives. Not what he will do to our Houses if we are all taken. Please… please leave now… run!”

“No one is going to run and leave you here. Be still, and it will be all right.”

“Please, Father… please don’t give in to him.”

“I will do what I have to do, Astrin. I will not leave my son in his hands.”

“Please….”

Astrin was limp in the arms of the giant man. His panic rose as his strength faded. He was not afraid for himself but terrified that his father and friends would put themselves in these brutal hands too. He knew there was no point fighting. He was helpless, useless—just like always. He was small and weak and—

Astrin’s limp, dangling hand brushed against something hard, and after a few moments he realized it was a knife strapped to Strebo’s thigh. With cautious movements he let his fingers run up the scabbard until they reached the hilt. Strebo was still locked in a battle of wills with his father and was not paying Astrin much attention, believing he was cowed and helpless.

Swallowing hard and trying to shake the pounding pressure in his head that clouded his mind, he gripped the hilt of the knife and inched it out of the scabbard.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Hush, Rowan. I’m doing what I have to do. Be ready to run.”

“Astrin, don’t be a fool! You’ll get yourself killed.”

Astrin paused, remembering the vision, the darkness, and the hand reaching for him. Was this it? Was the darkness Strebo, the hand his? If so, then this was where he would make his last stand, since the darkness was not one that could be escaped. Steeling himself for what he was about to do, he gripped the dagger and drove it into Strebo’s arm, as deeply as he could.

With a scream of rage and pain, Strebo flung him away with such force that he hit the floor and rolled like a rag doll, stunned. Blinking to clear the mist that obscured his vision, Astrin felt hands dragging him to his feet. He heard Strebo roar and the hands pulled harder. His head began to clear, and he scrabbled to get a foothold as they all burst from the door and ran, with Strebo after them, yelling for his guards.

Astrin could almost feel the big man’s breath on his neck as he ran helter-skelter out of the doorway, over the cobbles, and along the road toward freedom. Compared to the huge main gate, this one was tiny and usually manned by a uniformed guard. Today that guard was busy elsewhere, so it stood opened and unguarded.

They had almost reached the door when Astrin looked back. Strebo had stopped and was bending over, his hand to his boot. With a wicked grin, he straightened and something flashed in his hand. Astrin turned again to pass last through the gate, then stumbled, falling to his knees as a sharp pain bit into his shoulder.

“Astrin!”

Everyone stopped and turned back. Hersten slung Astrin’s good arm around his neck and hauled him to his feet. Half supporting, half dragging him, Hersten steered him away from the gate and into the crowd that had gathered to see what all the noise was about.

“I’m all right, Father,” Astrin gasped after a dozen or so steps. “It hurts, but it’s not bad.” Hersten released him, and he ran with them down through the residential area, back to the dark allies and concealing shadows where they finally stopped, panting and scared.

Astrin leaned against the wall with his eyes closed and his lips compressed. Hersten hurried to his side.

“Let me take a look.”

“It’s all right. It can wait.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Let me judge.”

“Yes, Father.” Astrin sagged, no fight left in him.

Hersten turned him to face the wall. “It’s a small throwing dart,” Hersten said. “A few inches in either direction and it could have done serious damage, but it looks as if it’s sunk into your shoulder blade. It’s painful, but not serious. Hold still, this is going to hurt.”

The first attempt did not pull the dart free. Astrin pressed his face against the wall and gritted his teeth. He was determined not to cry out, and this time he succeeded.

The second time his father had a better grip and probably used his abilities to help release the dart. It felt better, but Astrin was still sick and shaking with pain and fear.

“Steady, Son. The worst is over now. It’s over. It’s done. Be still for a moment, and it will be better. You need to take your jacket off so I can see the wound. Can you manage to do that?” Hersten spoke softly, and Astrin responded even though by now he was only half-conscious.

After he’d eased the jacket off Astrin’s shoulders, Hersten slit his shirt with a knife and examined the wound with gentle fingers. Even so, the pain made Astrin hiss through his teeth and sag against the wall.

“Easy. It’s almost done. I don’t think your shoulder’s broken. I think I can heal it. Try to be as still as you can.”

Weak with pain Astrin was unable to speak as his father laid his hand over the wound, concentrating healing energy into Astrin’s shoulder.

Astrin felt the warmth of healing spread out from his father’s hand, penetrating deeply into his shoulder and flowing like a golden river through his body. It would have been easy to surrender to it and fall into the safety and comfort of the familiar energy, but he resisted, simply allowing the energy to relax him and take away the pain.

When he’d finished, Hersten turned Astrin away from the wall and took him into his arms, hugging him perhaps a little too fiercely. Although he winced Astrin bore the embrace with joy.

“We did it,” he gasped. “We did it!”

S
HAKING
WITH
relief, Rowan sought the support of the wall himself, resting his forehead against the cool stone. A strong hand gripped his shoulder, and he looked up into his uncle’s face. It was unsmiling but bore a strange, tender look.

“Are you all right?” Astrin asked anxiously.

“I’m fine,” Rowan said. “Better than you. Relieved. I thought… I….”

“Are you strong enough to walk?” Hersten asked Astrin.

“As if I’d let you carry me. I’m fine. My shoulder’s sore and a little weird, but apart from that I’m really fine.”

“Where will we go? Not to the train, for sure. That will be watched closely. Now that Strebo knows we’re here, he’ll stop at nothing to find us.”

“I know where we can stay for a few days,” Rowan broke in. “It’s safe. Astrin and I stayed there last night. It was a safe house for the revolutionaries. They said we could go back. I’m sure it will be safe there.”

Charles narrowed his eyes. “Do you trust these people?”

“Yes. If it hadn’t been for them, we’d never have found you.”

“Father,” Astrin said, “if they’d wanted to betray us, why would they have helped us escape?”

“That’s a fair point, but they may still wish to use us to bargain for their cause with Strebo.”

“Unless they win.”

“They will not win. There’s too much of a force in there for them to win.”

“They seemed to have been doing a good job so far.”

“All smoke and wind. I don’t know what they were doing, but it was certainly no full-scale assault on the citadel.”

“Never mind what they were doing,” Astrin grumbled. “We have a safe place to stay. Can we please go there? I’m tired and sore, and I really need to eat something before I pass out from sheer hunger.”

They all looked at him, and it brought a smile to each face.

“I really don’t know how you stay so slim,” Rowan said. “All you ever think about is eating.”

R
EST
AND
R
ELAXATION

F
INDING
THE
bar was not as easy as they’d thought. When they had first arrived, they were being led by Neive, and when they had left they were being led by Kal.

With tension growing every minute, they darted through the maze of streets until they found the right one and slipped inside the door with enormous relief. The barmaid took one look at them and came hurrying out from behind the bar to show them up the stairs.

“Are you mad to show yourselves in the public area? You’re lucky the bar was so crowded. I don’t think anyone noticed you. You have to be more careful. The guards will be looking for you, searching everywhere, but they can’t search every building in Agavi, so if you’re sensible you will be safe.”

Unlocking the door, she slipped inside and checked the heavy shutters over the windows before turning on the lights.

“There. I’ll bring food and drink when I can. Stay here until the others…. Oh!” Her eyes flew wide, and her hands fluttered to her mouth as she turned and saw to whom she was speaking. A look of horror came over her face, and she sank to her knees, bowing her head.

“Your Majesties. I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I didn’t know… I… I am so sorry… so sorry.”

Charles stepped forward and proffered his hand. The woman recoiled from it. Charles smiled at her and held out the hand again, murmuring, “If it is offered, it is no offense.”

Still looking terrified, she took the hand and rose to her feet.

“You’re doing us the greatest of service, kind lady. It is we who are honored by your loyalty and trust. While we are here, I beg of you, treat us no differently than the rest. I would not have danger brought on anyone because of us. Do you understand?”

“Ye-yes your… yes… I understand. I will… I will serve you as I can.”

“Then serve us by returning to your duties and carrying on as normal, as was the plan. It would be most welcome if you could let us have something to drink, though… water would serve. We are thirsty and sore.”

“Of course. I’ll have refreshments sent up as soon as I can. Many of our patrons are sympathetic to the cause, but there are some who are not, and it’s not safe to guess which are which.”

“Very sensible. Thank you, madam.”

When she had gone, they sank gratefully onto the padded benches. Astrin leaned forward over the table, resting his head on his folded arms. Rowan slid in beside him and put his arm around Astrin’s shoulders. Astrin looked up and, without a word, he leaned back and rested his head against Rowan’s shoulder.

“I could get used to this.”

“Don’t,” Astrin murmured softly so the two men couldn’t hear him. “Today I’m sore, scared, tired, and hurt. Tonight I’ll need someone to hold me, but don’t think… don’t assume I want any more from you or that I’ll want the same tomorrow.”

“With you, I assume nothing.”

Astrin stared at him, and a shy smile crept across his face. He slipped his arm around Rowan’s waist and allowed Rowan to take him in his arms, snuggling with a sigh against his side.

R
OWAN
WAS
almost unbearably happy. Although he knew the moment wouldn’t last, he had Astrin in his arms. Rowan allowed himself to rest his cheek on the berry-sticky hair. All the dire warnings had come to nothing. Astrin was safe. They were all safe. Uncle Charles was here now as well as King Hersten, so it was all right… they were going to be all right.

Rowan must have fallen asleep because he woke with a start that also roused Astrin who’d been sleeping in his arms. There were people in the room. Shaking sleep from his eyes, Rowan searched the crowd, his heart fluttering until, with great relief, he spotted Neive. She was talking animatedly to Charles and his face was showing ever-increasing surprise, bordering on shock.

One of the others, a man they recognized vaguely from the prison, came up to them and sat down. He was grinning and holding a pint of beer.

“It seems like we’ve all had a good result today.” Rowan and Astrin glanced at each other, realized they were still holding each other, and jumped apart.

“What do you mean?”

The man’s grin widened, but he chose to take the simpler interpretation.

“The assault on the citadel.”