Mica (24 page)

Karlus motioned for the two soldiers to approach.

The first blow from the wooden club landed between Mica’s legs. Pain shot through his groin then through his ribs as another strike cracked across his side. From his bound position he couldn’t shield himself from the blows raining over his face and body. He’d hoped not to give them the pleasure of hearing him scream but found he couldn’t help himself particularly when they discarded their clubs and struck his beaten flesh repeatedly with bamboo switches. Blood oozed from a gash on his forehead and ran into his eyes. He prayed whatever the bastards did to Sun would be quicker than what he would face. He knew Karlus intended to repeat his banishment. To his people, the punishment of banishing included torture then exposure. But this time Mica wouldn’t survive.

* * * * *

Sun awoke in a damp cell, the only light from a torch at the end of the corridor outside. Her head throbbed and her entire body ached. In her sleep she thought she heard grunting, wood striking flesh and screaming.

She lay still for a moment numb from the blow to the head. A rat scurried over her hand and she pushed herself to a sitting position, her bruised limbs screaming at the motion. The lower half of her body felt raw. She wore a filthy tunic with the sleeves torn off. The hem which only covered her to mid-thigh was jagged. Swallowing hard, she resisted the urge to vomit.
Raped again.

“Bastards,” she hissed, tears springing into her eyes. If she ever had the chance
she’d chop up their cocks and feed them to the stone buzzards.

Wiping her eyes on her forearm, she stood and stumbled, pain shooting up her leg.

She glanced down and saw that her ankle was swollen. She doubted it was broken but knew it was badly sprained. It must have happened when she’d fallen off her horse. She remembered chasing Mica who had ridden into battle against a small army. Moments later she’d been struck unconscious.

Sun walked to the bars and strained to see down the corridor. A guard stood beside the torch in the wall. The cell across from hers was empty. There were other cells but she couldn’t discern any inhabitants. Still she was too far away to really see inside each one.

“So you’re awake.”

She glanced at the other end of the corridor. A tall man with dark skin, brown eyes and a neatly trimmed beard stood in an open door. He approached followed by two guards carrying bloody bamboo switches.

“What’s your name, slut?”

Sun’s jaw clenched almost as tightly as her fists around the bars.

“Come now, surely you can be more reasonable than Mica. He wouldn’t tell us your name either.”

Mica.

Where was he? What had they done with him? She wanted answers but doubted she’d get them so she remained silent.

“I was beginning to think my men had knocked you unconscious for good,” he continued, leaning against the wall outside her cell and staring at her through half-open eyes. “I told them to save some for later.”

Sun wondered if she could move fast enough to grab him by the throat and smash his face through the bars. She doubted it. In her present condition she could hardly move.

“We know you’re a Dame.” The man’s gaze swept her from head to foot. “Tell us how many Knights and Dames have come to aid Ademene. It doesn’t matter because you’re all going to die but just to amuse me tell me how many.”

Sun glared at him.

“I see you’re going to make this difficult. If you don’t tell us we’ll rape you again—

unless the thought doesn’t frighten you. Perhaps you enjoyed sating my men.”

“You’ll do whatever you want to me no matter what I say,” Sun told him.

He grinned. “Maybe you’re not as stupid as you look. So what does Mica mean to you?”

Silence.

“I see.” The man pushed himself off the wall and glanced at the soldiers. “Bring Mica. We’ll see if they can’t convince each other to cooperate.”
* * * * *

Mica staggered into another cell, his face scraping against the rock wall. He used his shoulder to right himself since his wrists were bound behind his back. Shackles cut into his ankles. Clotted blood sealed one eye, forcing him to turn his head to view the entire filthy room. He willed himself not to react upon seeing Sun bound to a wall, her hands chained above her head, her ankles shackled to the grimy floor. Her bare feet and legs were covered with dirt and drying blood. A ragged, filthy tunic scarcely concealed her body. Her condition along with the pain and rage in her eyes told him the extent of her violation.

Mica’s heart throbbed with fury. If he hadn’t been tied he would have shredded Karlus and the guards with his bare hands.

“Pretty, isn’t she, Mica?” Karlus approached Sun and took a lock of matted golden hair between his fingers. Her head spun in his direction, her teeth snapping close to his hand. He jerked away and slammed his gloved fist into her face. Blood spurted from her split lips. She glared at him, jerking her chains like a captive animal.

Stop fighting, Sun.
Mica struggled to control his own temper. The more they fought the better Karlus enjoyed it. Karlus didn’t realize how lucky he was Mica was dying of bog tremors. If there was the slightest chance of his survival Mica would ensure Karlus remembered in agonizing detail every second of torture bestowed upon the Dame.

“At least she
was
pretty,” Karlus smirked. “I don’t think my men and I have ever enjoyed a woman so much. Did you get a chance to try her, Mica? Oh. I forgot. Priests give up the ability to enjoy women. But you’re not a Priest yet, are you?”

Mica glared into Karlus’ mocking eyes. Karlus motioned for the guards to chain Mica to the wall directly across from Sun.

“Now,” the general continued, “we’ll have an enlightening conversation.”

“I have no information you could possibly want,” Mica said, trying to ignore the aches in every part of his body. He couldn’t decide if it was the beginning of another attack of bog tremors or simply a result of the beating.

“Such lies.” Karlus shook his head. He extended his hand to a guard who slipped one of the wooden clubs into it. Karlus struck Mica’s side. He jerked, the manacles cutting deeper into his wrists. Rivulets of fresh blood trickled down his forearms. “My rules are simple. Each time I ask a question you don’t answer the woman will receive a cut. Each time she refuses to answer a question you will be struck.”

Sun’s gaze met Mica’s. He saw pain clearly and a hint of fear. Most of all he saw fury.

“We’ll tell you horseshit,” she snarled.

The club struck hard between Mica’s legs. He groaned, his vision blurring.

Karlus laughed. “Perhaps she’s paying you back for a lover’s spat for I have no doubt you mean far more to each other than what you’re saying. Has the emperor of Ademene allied himself with any leaders from Upper Kenna?”
“I already told you,” Mica said, “I have nothing to do with the emperor’s plans.”

One of the guards approached Sun with a long, curved dagger. He heated the tip in torch flames and sliced her upper arm.

Her teeth clenched and she groaned. Mica felt sick. Never in his life had he come so close to spilling all he knew to an enemy.

“How many of your Dames are in Ademene?” Karlus asked Sun. She remained silent and Mica braced himself for another blow.

He wasn’t sure how long the questions continued. He only knew his hold on consciousness was slipping. Sun’s arms and legs glistened red from dozens of shallow knife cuts. Karlus and his guards knew how to cause pain without taking life. Mica had once been an expert in such tactics. He imagined using his violent skills again, this time on Karlus and his henchmen.

“I see you need some time to think.” Karlus’ voice penetrated Mica’s muddled thoughts. The general’s spicy breath blew in his face. Mica opened his good eye and found the general standing so close he could see the gleam in his dark eyes. “Neither of you will see Ademene again. The remainder of your life can be tolerable or it can be excruciating.”

Karlus stepped back, giving Mica full view of one of the guards, his trousers halfway down his thick, hairy legs, pounding into Sun who dangled from the chains.

The guard’s gloved hands clutched the wall and he stiffened and groaned before stepping away and adjusting his trousers. Sun’s tunic hung in shreds, scarcely covering her bruised, bleeding body.

Karlus grinned at Mica. “I thought you were going to faint on me, Mica, but you look alive again. Could it be you’re upset with what Slan has done to your woman?

Don’t worry. We’ll allow you to share the same fate.”

The guards loosened the chains on Mica’s feet then spun him, pressing him face-first against the wall before binding his legs even tighter than before. The cell door creaked open and footsteps approached. Two guards held his arms and two grasped his legs. Between the men, the chains and the weakness from the beating he was unable to move.

“You bastards better pray I don’t get out of here.” Sun’s hoarse voice dripped with rage.

Mica’s trousers were jerked down. His fingers tightened on the chains as another body rammed his against the wall. Pain shot through him with each savage thrust. He tasted dirt and slime as Karlus grunted close to his ear. For the first time Mica wished bog tremors was contagious. Squeezing his eyes shut, he told himself that while they occupied themselves with him at least Sun was left alone.

After what seemed like forever Karlus shoved away.

“You see, Dame,” the general panted, “we don’t favor women over men.”

A knock sounded on the door. Another guard entered and whispered to Karlus.
The general’s teeth gritted. “You’re certain?”

“Yes, sir.”

Karlus glared at Mica and Sun. “So there are no more Knights and Dames, eh? Take him down. Then get to your stations.”

The muffled sounds of shouting and clashing steel wafted from outside.

The guards released Mica and untied him. His hands dropped to his sides. Pain shot through his arms that had been tied overhead for too long. After several moments, he tugged up his trousers with trembling fingers, noting from the corner of his eye silver keys dangling from the belt of a tall, fleshy sergeant. Mica stumbled against the man.

“Get off me.” The sergeant scowled, shoving Mica away. He clung to the man, his numb fingers searching. A punch in the gut and another to the back of the head sent him crashing to his knees.

“Hold him,” Karlus ordered.

Mica resisted the urge to fight. What was the point? Short of killing him there was nothing more they could do. If he was to escape with Sun he couldn’t waste what little strength he had left.

Three guards tightened their grips on his chains while the last forced his head forward. Hair and some flesh were sliced from the back of his head. Blood running down his neck, Mica gasped in pain. The guards released him.

“Nice,” Karlus held out fistfuls of Mica’s long, black hair, part of his scalp attached in clumps. “It would fetch a good price at the market but I think I’ll attach it to my helmet instead. It will make a better show than feathers or ram horns.”

“Should we bring him back to his cell?” one of the guards asked.

Karlus shook his head. “Release her too. Let them spend a few hours in thought before we kill them. I want them to see the bodies of their companions.”

The muffled sound of shouting and clashing steel shook the stone walls.

Karlus stalked out of the cell while the guards unchained Sun. She slid to the floor.

Finally the guards left.
Chapter Twelve

Not bothering to stand, Mica crawled to Sun and massaged her arms, knowing how they must hurt as blood circulated again. Realizing his stubbornness had caused her suffering was more painful than anything Karlus had done to him.

“I’m so sorry.” He held her close, stroking her matted hair. She rested her face against his shoulder.

“Are you all right?” She lifted her head, touching a hand to his cheek. “The bog tremors—”

“Forget about me. Sun, we’re getting out of here,” he whispered close to her ear. “I have keys.”

She pushed away, her eyes wide. “How?”

“Took them from that fat guard when I fell on him. He was too busy thinking about the battle but I don’t know how long we have before he realizes. Can you walk?”

“My ankle is sprained but nothing will stop me from trying to get out of here.”

“I’m not sure where we are but it doesn’t matter. They’re going to kill us so we might as well risk an escape.”

“I agree and the sooner the better. It sounds like most of the guards are preoccupied with whatever’s going on outside.”

Mica used the key to remove their shackles.

He rose, looking through the bars. A heavily bolted door stood at the end of the short corridor. Light shone through a window far above the door. Mica assumed guards waited outside.

Sun limped beside him. “Blaze must be out there. Karlus mentioned Knights.”

“If we can get to the window we might have a better chance of escaping.”

“Providing we’re not too far up.”

He unlocked the door and opened it, wincing at the creak of metal. Their hearts pounding, they waited for guards to burst inside.

“Give me the chains.” Mica held out his hand. Sun gathered the chains and dropped them in his palm.

There were three other cells, all empty. The window was high but the wall craggy enough to ensure footholds during a climb. He stood below the window and tossed the chain upward. After several tries the manacle’s end slipped through the bars and stuck.

He tugged hard before climbing up. Halfway there the bars started to give. Stone crumbled.

“Mica,” Sun called. “The bars are coming loose.”
He finished his climb quickly. Gripping one of the more solid bars on the side of the window, he tugged the others away, scarcely believing their luck. The building must have been very old, perhaps left from the Ancient Wars before Ademene was founded.

He managed to fasten the chain to a more secure bar before glancing out the window, which was positioned just above a slanted rooftop. The opening was so narrow that Mica hoped he could slide through.