Page 4 of Sword of Rage
“You’re going to assassinate Prince Kerdan?” the man whispered.
“With immense pleasure,” the other replied, his voice slithering like a snake.
“That wasn’t part of the plan. I won’t have you pin it on me.” Panic laced the man’s words.
A throaty chuckle rumbled a few feet away. “You forget who you’re speaking to. If I were you, I’d watch my tone.”
A shiver swept through Harley’s body. She needed to get out of there, but she was too afraid to move with the men so close by.
Another shuffle sounded only a few inches away. “Of course, Prince Soma. My apologies.”
“Don’t use my name, you fool. Now take me to my supplies before someone sees me.”
“I have everything you requested hidden in a room down this corridor.” Footsteps headed to the left. “I’d like to set aside some time tomorrow for us to discuss a loose end.”
“I won’t be here tomorrow. After I do what needs to be done, I’m going to Emperion. There’s someone there I need to deal with.”
When the voices and footsteps faded away, Harley reached back, finding the clasp and opening the hidden door. She would have to reach the turret the other way since Prince Soma and the person he’d been talking to had gone down the corridor she needed to use.
Back in the passageway, she grabbed the torch, her arm shaking. It felt like she was going to vomit as the gravity of the situation overwhelmed her. Unable to waste a single minute, she forced her legs to move, heading toward the turret. Based upon the conversation she’d just overheard, Kerdan wanted the royal family alive, at least for now. He probably needed King Coden to sign a treaty or declaration. Since Kerdan had locked the nobles in the great hall, it seemed logical to assume he would try negotiating with the king, using the nobility as a bargaining chip. However, Prince Soma planned on assassinating Prince Kerdan. Once that happened, he’d said the royal family would be executed. A fierce determination filled Harley—she would save her family or die trying. She started jogging since there wasn’t much time for help to arrive.
At the base of the turret, she examined the tall ladder positioned in the middle of the circular stone tower. After hanging up the torch, she wiped her sweaty hands on her dress, then grabbed hold of the first rung. She started climbing, trying not to step on the hem of her dress and slip.
Harley climbed five stories before reaching the top of the ladder. She flopped onto a small rectangular platform, panting as she looked out of the opening carved into the wall. She had to go through it in order to light the signal fire. Taking a calming breath, she climbed out to a narrow stairwell about five feet high that led to the top of the turret. Wind whipped around her face, causing her hair to unravel, making it hard to see. Afraid she’d plunge to her death, she gathered her hair together, tying it in a knot before kneeling next to the large pile of wood.
Not daring to look over the side for fear she’d become disoriented and fall, she grabbed the lighter, focusing on it. With shaking hands, she tried to get a spark. It didn't work. She attempted it again, doing it just as she’d been taught. Nothing happened. Tears filled her eyes. Her family was going to die if she didn’t get help. All that stood between her and salvation was a single flame. Her brother’s voice filled her head, calmly instructing her how to light the fire. Focusing on his words, she did as he said. An ember flared, catching on the kindling. Relief filled her as thick black smoke rose into the sky for the nearby towns to see. It was the signal that the castle was under attack and to send help.
The heat from the fire became intense, forcing Harley to crawl back to the stairwell. As she descended the steps, her breath caught. Surrounding the castle, hundreds of enemy soldiers dotted the landscape. She scanned the area looking for fellow Melenians. A group of about fifty stood huddled together in a hastily constructed pen surrounded by a half dozen spears sticking up out of the ground, a head skewered on top of each one. Bile rose in the back of her throat at the horror of Melenia soldiers being beheaded. What an awful way to die.
With shaky legs, she climbed back into the turret. As she descended the ladder, she heard men shouting the wordssmokeandfire. She needed to hide before someone found her in there. In too much of a hurry, her right foot slipped, her chin smacking one of the rungs, jarring her head. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she clutched onto the rung, hanging on for dear life. She frantically flailed about until her feet found purchase and she steadied herself. With a wildly beating heart, sweaty palms, and shaking arms, she hastily descended the rest of the ladder. When Harley neared the bottom, cold fingers curled around her ankle, startling her.
“Didn’t expect to find a woman lighting the signal,” a man with a thick accent mused. He yanked her.
She tumbled to the floor, her back stinging in pain and the air knocked out of her. The man reached down, grabbing her arms and lifting her upright. As she dangled in his grip, gasping for air, fear overrode the pain and she kicked at his stomach, trying to get him to drop her. If he’d just let go, she could run away and hide in one of the storage closets.
Tightening his grip, he slammed her against the wall of the turret, pinning her in place as he towered over her by at least two feet. “Who are you?” he demanded.
Her mind screamed in panic, trying to think of a way out of this mess. “I have information for Prince Kerdan,” she blurted, a crazy plan forming. If Kerdan died, so would the royal family, which meant she needed to prevent the prince's assassination.
The Russek soldier raised his eyebrows. “You just lit the signal fire. You are no friend to Russek.” He gripped her harder, as if trying to intimidate her.
Dangling above the floor, she shoved her fear away and summoned every ounce of arrogance she had. “One of your own plans on killing your prince. Apparently, no one is a friend to Russek.”
The man loosened his grip, his brows furrowing. “Where did you hear that?” His deep voice rumbled with menace.
“I’ll only speak to Prince Kerdan.”
“How do you know that’s not me?”
A good, loaded, dangerous question. Swallowing, she said, “Because I’ve met him before.” She now understood why the prince chose not to wear a crown or clothing to indicate his position, thus allowing him to blend in with his soldiers. During a takeover or battle, it would be wise to switch places with another soldier to not stand out like a target.
The man set her on her feet and took a step back, observing her. Seconds went by. Harley raised her chin, refusing to cower before him.
He nodded. “Let’s go.” Clutching her upper arm, he dragged her out of the passageways and into the servants’ corridor.
Fear flared inside Harley. She had no idea if this man was going to toss her outside the castle, take her to Kerdan, or do something far more nefarious with her. Not having any other options, she decided not to fight or argue with him, her mind scrambling to come up with a backup plan if this didn’t go as she hoped.
Loud, boisterous voices of foreigners resounded up ahead. Harley stifled her panic. If she wanted to negotiate with Russek soldiers, she needed to be brave and bold.
