Shrouded Sky (The Veils of Lore Book 1) (14 page)

“All the better,” he said. He grabbed her by the hair and dragged her along the ground.

“Let me go!” she screamed.

“When I’m done with you,” he said. He snatched a torch from a nearby bracket and tossed her into a cell, where she rolled across the floor. Orryn slammed the door closed behind them.

“Don’t
touch
me,” Chandra cried, scrabbling out of reach.

Orryn stepped toward her. “Scream like I’m hurting you,” he said, but his tone was that of a man trying to help her, not harm her.

Chandra clutched her aching ribs. “What?”

Orryn glanced toward the door. “I’m assaulting you, girl. Act like it,” he said.

“I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction!”

Orryn sighed with exasperation. “Listen, I have no personal experience with these kinds of assaults, but if you’d continue to at least act like you’re fighting me, it would greatly help our situation.”

Chandra pushed up along the wall at her back. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“What I’m talking about is I’m in no condition to make rational decisions, but I need to at least prove I can control you, no matter the means.”

“So you don’t have any interest in actually doing it,” Chandra said, piecing it together, “but I’m supposed to act like you do.”

“Precisely. Pey and his men will be disappointed if I don’t. And right now I’m not in a position to disappoint them.” He reached down and scooped up a handful of dirt. It was damp and smelled foul, traces of the cell’s previous occupants. “I must dirty your face,” he said, stepping toward her.

Chandra looked at the dirt in his hand and frowned. “Wouldn’t you rather just hit me?”

“Yes.”

Orryn lifted his hand to smear it, but Chandra grabbed his arm and stopped him. “How do you plan to help Tygg?”

“I don’t know, but we don’t have time to discuss it. That guard’s curiosity may get the better of him, and believe me, in matters such as this it very likely will.”

Chandra nodded and let go her hold. He smeared the dirt along her cheek and down her throat.

“Get off me, you bastard!” she cried, and smacked him across the face.

The cell Tygg had been thrown into was as dark as death, and he could not help but feel the inevitability of its cruel hand upon his shoulder. Although he’d worked to prepare himself for what was to come, the fear that currently had him by the throat was something he had not expected. He’d known fear before, had known it many times, but never had he felt as vulnerable as he did now. In the blistered, dark womb of Syddia, there was little hope for him, and even less for his Qwa t’sei.

He crawled to his feet and felt his way to the nearest wall. His hands were bound in front of him, something in his favor at least. He turned toward the center of the room and blinked to focus his eyes. There was no hint of shadow or shape in the place, nothing to identify who else, or what else, might be in the cell. Only the solitary laboring of his lungs told him he was probably alone.

The stench that surrounded him was a mixture of blood and urine and decay. Tygg leaned his back against the wall and closed his eyes, knowing it signaled what awaited him. The guards would soon enter the cell, and with them would come fire and blades and torture tools. Would he plead for mercy? Would he scream? He’d heard tales of what Shield men were capable of, and he did not know if courage would be within his power or out of it.

He forced it from his thoughts, determined to think of something other than the pain he knew was coming. The sky, the mountains, his daughter . . . anything but suffering and death. But he pushed Panya from his mind. He refused to bring the memory of her into this foul place. Nauney, then. She was the reason he was here, the reason he deserved to be here.

Nauney’s face swam into view, her visage so real Tygg was certain he must be dreaming it. Surely she was in the light of the After, he reasoned, not the inky darkness of the catacombs. But then she looked into his eyes, or so it seemed to him, and her lips began to move as if speaking to him.

Tygg heard nothing beyond his own thundering heart and wished more than anything he could hear her voice, the words she spoke. Perhaps the gods had sent her with a message of hope. If only he could hear it! He stepped toward her and reached out his hands, to see if he could touch her, to see if she were real. But as his fingertip brushed her cheek she disappeared into a wisp of vapor.

Tygg’s eyes searched the darkness. “Please, Nauney,” he whispered. “Stay with me, until this is done.” But she did not return.

Despair obliterated what little hope he had left. What chance did he have locked in this cell? He would die a painful death here and he knew it. His hands gravitated to the leaf tucked in the waistband of his leathers. Was it not better to die a quick death than a slow one?

Suddenly he heard a scream from down the corridor. A scream of terror. A scream of pain.

Chandra!

He rushed to the door and threw himself against it. Why was she here? What were they doing to her? Tygg pounded against the wood and clawed for the handle, but it was no use. It was as if he had been buried alive.

He heard her cry out again.

“Chandra!” he shouted. By the gods, where was Orryn? Why wasn’t he protecting her?

Fear spread through Tygg like wildfire, and in that instant he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms, to protect her from harm, to protect her from the world.

“Syddian filth!” he spat. “I shall have your heads on pikes!”

Laughter wafted from down the corridor. A man’s laughter, followed by Chandra weeping, begging.

Tygg threw himself against the door over and over. How could the gods allow this to happen? Surely they could not be so cruel! He stopped and pressed his ear to the wood, listening for any sign of Chandra’s voice, but there was nothing.

He fell to his knees, frustration overtaking his ability to think. The Cloud Walker had said the Imela was but a means to an end, a reason to get him into Syddia. But Tygg knew, in this last desperate hour, she was so much more than that. She was Chandra. And he had failed her as surely as he had failed Nauney. “Forgive me,” he whispered.

But he knew he was not deserving of it.

~~~

Orryn shoved Chandra through the door of the catacombs and back into the courtyard. Most of the men were still there, including Pey.

“Now you all have something to talk about,” Orryn said, hoisting her under his arm.

“The conversation will be as brief as your time with her,” Pey said. The men around him laughed.

“Perhaps it will be longer when you speak of it to our Lady,” Orryn snapped. He moved toward his horse, Chandra trapped against him. He threw her onto the horse’s back, where she hid her face and sobbed into her hands.

“You’ve broken your oath, yet you’re not concerned that the Sovereign will soon know of it?” Pey asked suspiciously.

“Would it matter?” Orryn said, taking his place behind her.

“Not to me,” Pey replied.

“Then why concern yourself with it?” Orryn grabbed the reins and steered the horse toward the alley leading out. “Don’t forget the release,” he called back over his shoulder. “I’m very nearly done with her.”

~~~

Gruff voices sounded in the corridor, drawing nearer to the cell. Tygg rose and stepped back just as the door opened and slammed against the wall.

A group of guards silhouetted by torchlight entered the cell, followed by Pey.

“What did you do to the Imela?” Tygg demanded. He stepped threateningly toward Pey, but the guards grabbed hold of him.

“I don’t think you are in a position to ask questions, cat,” Pey said.

“I swear, if you harmed her . . .”

Pey laughed cruelly. “I didn’t touch the girl. It was Orryn who had his way with her in the cell.”

“You lie,” Tygg said.

“Do I?”

“He is incapable of such an act!” Tygg insisted. “It goes against his oath.”

“Oaths can be broken. And so can cats.” Pey jerked his head toward the guards holding Tygg in place.

Tygg was dragged into the corridor and toward another cell. Beyond its door was a black cresset filled with glowing hot coals, and a rack lined with cruel-looking devices.

Tygg was shoved inside and held in place as a hook was cranked down from the ceiling. A guard grabbed his wrists and forced the bindings over it, while Tygg’s tunic was slashed and ripped from his back.

“Any last words?” Pey asked, stepping toward the rack. “A confession perhaps?” He selected a long metal brand and shoved it into the coals.

The ropes at Tygg’s wrists tightened as he was hoisted from the ground. He closed his eyes. “May the gods have mercy on me,” he said.

Pey pulled out the glowing iron and turned to face him. “I assure you, cat. There are no gods here.”

Chandra sat stiff in the saddle, brushing back tears that had started as a performance but had quickly become real.

“I’m sorry if I harmed you,” Orryn said.

“An apology?” Chandra scoffed. “Don’t strain yourself.”

“How does your leg fare, and your ribs?”

“How do they
fare
? Bad. How’s that for an answer?”

“I’ll see you are soon tended,” Orryn said.

Chandra noticed the streets were beginning to brighten with torch light. “Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you to my father’s estate, my home,” he replied, but there was an edge to his voice.

Chandra surveyed the buildings on either side of the street where Orryn steered the horse. They looked nothing like those they had recently left. Here the buildings were not dark but rose-colored, their granite pillars formed from the same pastel stone. Leaded glass shimmered with the lamplight of the rooms behind them, while lanterns illuminated vast porticos. Here and there fountains gurgled with turquoise waters, some flanked by life-size statues, others by floral arrangements displayed in elaborate potteries. The air was cool and crisp and filled with the sweet scent of botanicals, such contrast to the stench of the corridor they had left behind.

Chandra glanced around her. The wide, cobbled streets seemed strangely empty.

“Where is everyone?” she asked.

“Few are allowed in the streets after the sun sets,” Orryn replied.

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Many reasons.”

“But we’re out,” Chandra said. “Won’t we get into some kind of trouble?”

“I’m a Pedant,” he said, sitting a little taller. “The rule doesn’t apply to me.”

“You broke your vow. Doesn’t that mean you can’t be a Pedant anymore?”

“I didn’t break my vow.”

“They think you did.” Chandra twisted around to face him. “Why
did
you let them think it, anyway?”

The horse’s hooves clopped loudly on the cobbles, accentuating the silence of his reply.

“Ah, we are here,” Orryn said, angling the reins. He steered the horse through an arch that separated two similar buildings and stopped inside a courtyard lined with stables. Two young men, attendants, hurried forward to assist with the horse.

Orryn dismounted and lifted Chandra off. He set her on her feet. “Nyal, please notify Master Seth that we’ve arrived.”

“Yes, my lord,” one of the men said and took off running toward the house.

“
My lord
?” Chandra looked at Orryn suspiciously. “What are you not telling me?”

Orryn tossed the reins to the second attendant. “Treat him with kindness, Bren,” he said. “He’s had a hard journey.” Orryn turned and took Chandra by the elbow, guiding her toward a series of wide steps that led upward toward a massive door.

The door opened and a bright-eyed girl about Chandra’s age hurried toward them. She was dressed in a satiny robe the color of night, and her hair, pinned in swirls atop her head, was the same dark color. She threw her arms around Orryn’s neck and smothered his face with kisses. “Where have you been, you big oaf?”

Heat rushed to Chandra’s cheeks. Who was this girl, kissing Orryn like that? But the bigger question was why did it suddenly matter to her?

A woman’s voice sounded from the doorway. “Orryn!” Chandra turned her eyes to see a distinguished-looking woman dressed in a flowing gown of black and cream coming down the steps.

“Tiersa, enough,” Orryn said, prying the girl off of him. “You’re strangling me.” Then to the woman who was fast approaching, “Mother.” But before he could say another word the woman ordered him to silence

“Let us not speak here,” she said. She smiled warmly and wrapped her arms around him. “The night has ears,” she whispered.

The woman released him. “Inside,” she said, stepping back. She glanced at Chandra. “And take the Imela with you.”

Orryn took Chandra’s hand in his, and she could not help but glance down at it. He had never held her hand like that, and she was curious as to why he had chosen now to do so.

The door closed behind them and they entered a magnificent room lit by candelabras and decorated with fine tapestries and ornate furnishings. The woman stepped toward Orryn and wrapped her arms around him again. “You’re safe,” she said with relief.

Orryn let go of Chandra’s hand and hugged his mother in return. He glanced around. “Where’s Father? We only have the Imela for one night.”

His mother looked up at him. “He’s in his study, preparing.”

“What do you mean, only one night?” Chandra asked, grabbing Orryn’s sleeve and tugging him to face her. “And preparing for what?”

“She’s a feisty one,” the girl called Tiersa said. She grinned at Orryn. “I hear you assaulted her.”

“How would you know?” Chandra said, annoyed the girl thought it was something to grin about.

“Word travels fast,” Tiersa said. She cocked a brow toward Orryn. “Well, brother?”

“I didn’t touch the girl,” Orryn insisted. “It was only a ruse to get Pey and his men off my back. She was raising a ruckus and I needed to prove to them that I was in control of her; otherwise Pey could have made an excuse to take her, then she
would
have been assaulted.”

Chandra now understood how close she had come to real harm. “Orryn—” But she didn’t know how to say the words. He had saved her, and for that she was grateful, but instead of thanking him, all she could say was, “What about Tygg?”