Page 108 of A Warrior's Heart
“Malik?”
I looked back at him.
“Even the strongest shields can break,” he said, handing me Troy’s bow. “You feel Troy’s loss most of all, and I see the toll it’s taken on you. But you must hold yourself together until the battle is won. Use your sorrow and pain to fight harder than you ever have.”
I nodded to him and grabbed the bow before leaving his chambers. Once alone, I released a shaky breath and blinked back tears.
As I walked down the corridor, a light pressure thumped against my chest. I reached up and gripped Troy’s ring. It had been too small to fit on my fingers, so I’d put it on a leather strap around my neck. So he’d always be close to my heart.
My beautiful archer had been brave. Selfless.
Crying solved nothing.
But rage? Vengeance? I would do as my king said and use them to defeat James and his army once and for all.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Troy
The dank, stale air of the holding cell filled my lungs as I took a deep breath. I coughed and leaned back against the wall, the chain around my ankle rattling as I shifted position.
Waves crashed against the ship, rocking it from side to side. My stomach rolled with it, but there was nothing for me to puke up. I had been in that cell for what seemed like ages.
Was it day? Night?
I couldn’t tell anymore.
After the soldiers captured me on the island, I had been bound by ropes and thrown at King James’ feet. For a while, he believed I was Lorcan. When the illusion wore off, and the trident returned to nothing but a long stick, I thought he was going to kill me. Instead, he had ordered his men to take me to the ship. They had dragged me down to the ship’s hold where a row of cells awaited.
I’d been there ever since, slowly rotting away as I laid in my own filth. There were no windows. Nothing but darkness and the occasional glow of an oil lamp when soldiers roamed below deck.
Every so often, a man brought me a bowl of gruel. The blend of oats and water had the consistency of thin soup and tasted revolting. But after several days on the ship where I’d refused the food, I had started eating it, even scraping the bowl with my wooden spoon trying to eat every drop.
King James had come to speak with me yesterday. Or perhaps it had been the day before that. The passage of time was impossible to know for sure. He offered me a bath, a warm bed, and the chance to go above deck to breathe fresh air in exchange for my help in convincing Lorcan to hand over the trident.
I had answered him by spitting in his face, which had earned me a bloodied lip when he backhanded me. The meals stopped after that.
The ship rocked again, and I groaned.
I was miserable. I had never felt so dirty in all my life. My hair was caked to my head, and I smelled even worse than the gruel. And I was starved. My stomach cramped, and I curled into a ball. The chain around my ankle had rubbed my skin raw.
Boots sounded on the staircase as someone approached. The glow of a lamp lit up the corner of the stairs, and I squinted against it. Being in the dark for so long made any amount of light hurt my eyes. I hoped it was the man with my food. The things I’d do for a bowl of gruel right then was pathetic.
The light from the lamp came closer, and in the shadows, I saw red, glowing eyes.
“Ezra,” I croaked, my voice scratchy like I’d swallowed sharp rocks.
He stepped up to the bars of my cell, bringing the light with him. The lamp cast shadows on his face, making his grin appear even more wicked.
“You look repulsive,” he said. “And you reek of shit and piss.”
“Did you come just to taunt me?” I sat up, pressing my back against the wall, trying not to show how much pain I was in as the iron cuff scraped against my raw ankle. “If so, gander all you wish. You can even kiss my ass while you’re at it.”
“I see the fire hasn’t left your spirit. How tough you are. I wonder if you’ll still be so tough in another two weeks.”
“I wonder how toughyou’llbe once these bars no longer separate us,” I countered, then his words registered. “I’ve been down here for two weeks?”
“Nearly three.” Ezra hung the oil lamp on a hook beside my cell and pulled something from his belt. The blue jewel on the dagger caught the light.Mydagger. “Interesting craftsmanship. I debated on slitting your throat with this, yet James believes you can be of use to us.”
