Page 35 of Sword of Desire
Everything turned blurry as tears filled Harley’s eyes. Her legs became weak and she reached out, leaning against the wall for support so she wouldn’t topple over. Would the death and destruction ever stop?
Needing to get away from the cheering, the dead man hanging over the side of the castle, and these sadistic soldiers, Harley turned and stumbled inside, not even paying attention to where she went. In a daze, she descended four levels and entered the great hall where it had all started. She still remembered Kerdan walking in with his men looking like wolves about to slaughter bunnies. Funny how the real threat ended up coming from within the castle. One of their own had betrayed them, allowing Russek to take over and slaughter them.
Heading behind the dais, she found the hidden door she’d escaped through. She opened it and stepped inside the secret passageways. After lighting a torch, she wandered through the corridors, retracing the steps she’d taken that dreadful night. When she came to the turret with the ladder, she glanced up, remembering her frantic climb to light the signal fire. Then she went to the spot where she’d been knocked out, and the key to the dungeon had been stolen from her.
If only that night had gone differently. If she’d never been struck over the back of her head, she would still possess the key.
Imagining that scenario, she took the passageways to the narrow stairwell, going down, seeking the entrance to the dungeon. Since this level had always been off limits, she’d never been here before. Dripping noises echoed through the corridor, and the stones became slick. An odd musty smell permeated the air. The passageways had never scared her. However, on the subterranean level, a cold terror set in.
She came to a dead end, a black iron door before her. Not seeing a keyhole or handle, she wondered how the door opened. At the bottom, she noticed a raised stone block. She stepped on it, pushing it down, and the door groaned open toward her. Darkness greeted her. Harley’s heart pounded, and her hands shook. She had no idea if any prisoners were in the dungeon or if any guards were on duty.
Only the royal family knew about this secret entrance. The one everyone else used could be found on the first level of the castle, near the north end. That door was always guarded by two soldiers.
Shoving the torch forward into the darkness, Harley examined the long, empty hallway that extended before her. She didn’t see any cells or anything indicative of a dungeon. Her entire life, she’d been told never to go near this place. It was where the royal family housed criminals and enemies of the kingdom. It had been the only place in the castle she didn’t have access to.
She stepped into the hallway, her footsteps echoing. The temperature plummeted, the walls glistened with water, and the smell of dank mold filled the stale air. Harley came to another door, this one with a visible lock. Glancing around, she spotted a key hanging on the wall. She plucked it off a metal nail and inserted it into the lock. A soft click resounded, and the door swung open.
Harley stepped inside a square room, three walls made of stones and one of metal bars. This had to be one of the dungeon cells. She clutched the key in her right hand, the torch in her left. Standing in the middle of the cell, she listened for sounds, trying to determine if anyone was in the dungeon.
No voices or sounds came from within. A thought suddenly occurred to her—Hollis had spent his last hours down here before his beheading. An overwhelming need to see if he’d left anything behind seized her. She slid the torch into a holder on the wall, then opened the cell door. It squeaked, making her freeze for fear someone had heard. When no one screamed or came running, she stepped out of the cell and into a long hallway. Torches hung on the walls every fifteen feet. To her left was a dead end, so she headed to the right, moving slowly. As she passed the cells, she glanced inside, trying to see if anyone was in them. Most were too dark to see inside, and she only caught glimpses of straw, chamber pots, and the occasional blanket.
At the end of the hallway, she came to an intersection where an additional hallway extended to both the left and the right, containing more cells. Straight ahead, there was a rectangular room with a single round table, a stack of cards scattered on it. The four chairs had all been pushed back as if the people sitting there had left in a hurry. Beyond that, a staircase led up, probably to the first level of the castle and what was considered the entrance to the dungeon.
She mulled over her options. There could be nobles down here from the takeover. If so, she had to find out. “Hello?” she called out, softer than intended. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “Hello?” she said, this time louder, her voice echoing in the hallways. “Is anyone in here?”
The cells should all be locked so if there were criminals, she didn’t have to worry about them. But if she found a noble person, a loyal Melenia soldier, or even a servant from the takeover that had been put down here, she had to save them. She glanced at the key in her hand, wondering if it unlocked any of the cell doors.
There was only one way to find out. She went to one of the hallways, peering down it. “Is anyone there?” No one responded. She turned and went to the other hallway. “Hello?”
Someone coughed, the sound low and barely audible.
Frozen in place, she listened, hearing a soft rustling sound. She forced herself to head down the hallway toward the noise. Outside one of the cells, an empty bowl and cup sat. Harley inched closer. The smell of body odor and fecal matter pervaded the air, making her gag. “Who’s there?” she asked.
“My ears must be deceiving me,” a familiar voice replied.
Harley stumbled, sure she’d misheard.
“Harley?” the familiar voice said.
“Papa?” she asked, staring at the dark cell in question.
A lump on the ground moved. Someone stood and stepped forward, into the light, and the dear face of her father appeared. His hair was rumpled from having slept on the floor, his clothes were wrinkled, and dirt was caked on the side of his face. However, other than that, he appeared unharmed.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, astonished and unable to fathom why he’d be in the dungeon.
“I didn’t think he’d let me see you,” Lord Silas said, his eyes warm and welcoming.
“I thought you were at home. Mother said you were sick in bed.” Not only did he appear to be in good health, but she had no idea how he’d gotten to the royal castle, let alone survived the trip if he’d been as frail as her mother indicated.
“Sick?” he asked. “My health has been declining, but that’s nothing new. Of course, being stuck in here doesn’t help these old bones.” He reached through the bars, patting her cheek. “He told me what those Russek bastards did. How they killed everyone, including Hollis.”
“Is that what Lyle told you?”
He nodded.
“Did he also tell you that he’s the one who struck a bargain with Russek, bringing them here?” She was furious everyone continued to blame this solely on Russek, not acknowledging Lyle’s part in it.
“He failed to mention that,” he replied. “However, it doesn’t take a genius to understand the deal was mutually beneficial to both parties involved.”
