Chapter 12 Escape

My being here is entirely to my parents’ credit. Not only were they able to bring me home, but they instilled in me a strong sense of honor and duty to the Holy King. The virtues we need to impart to the Chosen through the Ritual are what is the most important. Virtues such as wisdom, compassion, patience, decisiveness, protectiveness, or perseverance. All ones the Chosen will need as king. — Prince Eater #34

On the carriage ride home, Tom fumbled with the buttons on his jacket, jiggled the two small coins in his pocket, and stared out the window at the wide, brightly lit main street with shops, boutique markets, civil buildings, and expensive residences. Eventually, that street narrowed, and increasingly smaller, unlit lanes radiated out from each side. The dwellings got cheaper and seedier before the street widened again, and the streetlamps occurred more regularly and sequentially brighter. The carriage turned onto another well-kept street and rattled by townhouses that increased in luxury as they traveled. He wondered how long Jon and Alec would have to be content with that dismal, dusty attic room and how he could safely get them into nice accommodations. Few landlords were as protective and conscientious toward their guests as Craig Docherty, and right now that was more important than physical luxury. His thoughts twisted to the terrible day that the Armored Grays captured him when he tried to rendezvous with Annie.

Several Years Earlier — An Alleyway in Hilltown

Gil Braeford knelt with his left knee firmly in the back of the sprawled soldier and his hands pressing down on the man’s upper arms. Two other Grays dodged spit and curses as they fought to cover the soldier’s head with a cloth sack. When the soldier sank his teeth into the closest Gray, the man slapped the soldier’s face viciously. Gil's fist crashed into the Gray’s face sending him flying backward as Gil bellowed, “Don’t you dare you worthless wad of road sludge. By the Survivor, just who do you think you are!”

“Survivor!” the second Gray declared in surprise. “I’d heard that you’re from New East Anglia, but I never knew you were one of those. Worshiping the Survivor.”

“I worship God alone,” Gil snarled. “Not Olivia Raedwald.”

“Who’s Olivia Raedwald?” the Gray questioned.

Gil drew back his lips to spit out something else but instead jerked his head toward the prisoner so that the other two would focus on the task at hand.

“He bit me,” the injured Gray defended himself as he rubbed his jaw and muddled back to his feet.

“Of course he did. He’s a true soldier who’s been awarded the Medal of the King’s Honor more times than you’ve wiped your ass,” Gil growled, adding a warning glance at his companions. “He isn’t some unclaimed from the gutter. Grab his arms.”

As the others held the soldier down, Gil dug through his own uniform pockets until he found a large handkerchief. Holding it up, he spun the cloth into a long tube and looped it over the Medal of Honor holder’s head. The soldier shook his head and arched his neck back, trying to avoid the inevitable, but Gil easily tugged the cloth against the soldier’s lips and tied it behind his head. Gil snatched the sack, fed it rapidly over the soldier’s head, and secured it. Before leaning back, he double-checked that the soldier was not strangling on the sack or choking on the handkerchief and that his breathing was as normal as could be expected under the circumstances. Gil waved at the two Grays to tie the soldier’s hands behind his back while he lifted his knee and moved down to knot a length of rope around the soldier’s feet.

“Easy. Easy now,” Gil warned the Grays. “Be careful. Don’t tie it so tight that you damage his hands.”

“Why do you care so damn much about a prisoner?” the bitten Gray complained.

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“Why do you think you can disobey my orders?” Gil snapped back. “You two keep it up and you’ll both wish the Survivor would save your asses. Now pick him up and set him in the carriage. Carefully. He is to remain whole, healthy, and unbruised.”

“Yes, sir,” the two Grays responded.

Admitting his defeat to himself, the soldier ceased struggling and focused on the sounds around him and the sway of the carriage, in the hope that if an opportunity to escape presented itself, he would have some idea where he was. He could tell that the roads beneath the carriage wheels were smooth and designed for maximum comfort. While the Grays did not speak, the sounds from outside the carriage included children playing, servants laughing, and Hilltown life unfolding normally as they rolled by.

Captain Tom Jarek hated himself at that moment. Princess Tatianna had warned him that arrest warrants were issued for the two of them and a decree of execution had been issued for him. She begged him to hide until they could run. He had until the messenger came saying that she was in trouble and that she desperately needed him to meet her behind the Citadel. He rushed to her aid. He loved her too much to refuse. It was a ruse. The Grays were waiting for him. Tom knew that Annie wouldn’t betray him. The feel of the carriage changed from a road to a wooden drawbridge. He wondered if the hammering he heard in the distance was the scaffolding where he would be hanged or the wall he would stand against for a Royal Archer firing party.

He was surprised, however, when the carriage ride ended as soon as it did. Once again he was hauled from the carriage, but this time he was taken inside a building, stone based on the sound of the echoes, carried up a flight of stairs, and then down another passageway. He was set on the floor, far more gently than he had been treated so far, and he heard the sound of two people marching away.

Someone peeled the dark sack from his head, and then the gag was removed. Gil Braeford tossed both aside and bent over to lift him into a sitting position. As Gil’s knife sawed at the bonds tying his wrists, Tom lifted his face, squinted, squinted again, and then his jaw dropped open.

“Good evening, Captain Jarek,” Holy King Harrison greeted him pleasantly. “I apologize for the unusual and probably terrifying way that you were summoned today, but secrecy and misdirection are paramount if we are to succeed.” The king looked at Gil and asked, “My daughter?”

“No sign of her,” Gil responded. “I doubt that she believed the message.”

The king nodded and spoke to Tom. “Please, do not be worried. You are safe. Once Gil cuts you free, he will help you to the table, where you are welcome to help yourself to the food and ale set out for you. The three of us need to discuss our plan.”

“Plan?” Tom asked. In his shock, he forgot to say Your Majesty or any other accolade, but neither Holy King Harrison, nor Gil Braeford seemed to notice.

“Yes. The plan to see you and my daughter, Tatianna, safely out of Hilltown, and established comfortably in SnakeIn.”

PRESENT TIME

His wife’s words broke into the misery of Tom’s memories, “I didn’t expect him to be so beaten up.”

“Are you all right?” Tom asked. “I know you were surprised by having to give blood today.”

“Oh, I’m fine. A bit tired, but that will pass,” Annie said pensively. “I thought maybe a single shot from a crossbow had gotten him or something like that. Something a healer could work with.”

“He’s in a tough situation,” Tom agreed. “The prognosis is good, but it will be a long time before he’s well. It’s a blessing that Alec was able to get him here while he was still alive.”

Annie nodded, glanced his way, and then turned her attention to the window on her side of the carriage. As they arrived she said, “When the runner told me that a prince had moved to SnakeIn, I thought he would be someone the Rebels could use.”

“Maybe when he’s well,” Tom commented. “I wouldn’t give up on him yet. He was put through hell by the magi – and Harrison, too, for that matter. He may be more than willing to work with us. We’ll simply have to bide our time and see. I’ll help him all that I can, you can count on that.”

“I didn’t mean as a rebel,” Annie corrected. “I meant as king.”

Tom swung down from the carriage, looked directly at his wife, and said, “He’s nearly dead, Annie. Focus on helping him regain his health, and on appreciating that you have a brother nearby, instead of how you can manipulate him.”

He turned from his wife and strode into the mansion.

©2022 Vera S. Scott