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Charvod’s voice rang through the room. “Tie her to the next set of chains.”
Princess Melantha gasped, jerking in the grasp of the two troll warriors.
“No.” Rharreth twisted, grunting at the pain. Charvod still gripped the bloody whip, a wild light dancing in his eyes even as sweat beaded on his forehead. Surely, he wouldn’t do this. He had given his word to Rharreth. No matter how much they disagreed, this was an old pact between them. Honor demanded that their word was binding, but especially to each other. Rharreth tried to hold Charvod’s gaze. “We agreed...I would take...the punishment.”
“I agreed you would be punished. I never promised I wouldn’t punish her as well.” Charvod sneered at Princess Melantha.
Her shoulders shuddered with a deep breath, then the panic disappeared from her face, replaced with a firm serenity. Her eyes flashed as she lifted her chin and faced Charvod. “Very well. I deserve this. Not for helping my brother but for the harm I caused him. I will bear this and more without regret.”
Something stirred inside Rharreth’s chest. Princess Melantha had just witnessed Charvod whip Rharreth’s back to a bloody pulp, yet she faced him with steel in her spine and dignity in her voice.
Charvod spat a slur in her direction and motioned to his warriors. They yanked her to the wall, clamping shackles around her slim wrists.
“Charvod.” Rharreth tried to put as much strength into his voice as possible. He was not sure he understood the raw dread twisting his stomach.
When Charvod finally looked at Rharreth, it was like Rharreth had gone back in time, huddling on the ground at his father’s feet. Even Charvod’s words were an echo of their father’s. “You are weak, Rharreth. Father knew it, and now I see it, too. You were never worthy to stand by my side. You are weak, just like Mother.”
No. No. Surely, Charvod did not mean that. Could not mean that. Rharreth reached deep inside him and, despite the pain tearing across his back, he called on his magic and wrapped it around the stone shackles. They cracked, and it took all of Rharreth’s willpower to remain standing without their support.
Rharreth clenched his fists around his magic, facing his brother. “You promised you would not turn into him.”
Charvod growled, his own magic flaring. “It seems I should have made you promise that you would not become like her.”
Falling into a crouch, Charvod flicked his hand.
Rharreth tried to get his hands up. He attempted to shield himself from the power his brother sent in his direction.
But with the dizziness in his head, he was not fast enough. He slipped and fell into a puddle of something warm and sticky and dark red spreading beneath him. Before he could call on his magic again, something smashed into the back of his head, and darkness snatched him away.
Rharreth woke to dampwarmth dabbing at the burning pain of his back. His shoulders ached, his feet numb. He tried to move into a more comfortable position, but his wrists seemed to be caught by something.
He blinked up at his hands until his blurry vision cleared. Leather sacks covered his hands and arms up to his elbows, pinning his fingers into fists, while stone shackles around his wrists prevented him from tearing the leather free. Chains ran from the shackles to the ceiling, and Rharreth dangled with his weight from his hands, crouched on his knees on the floor.
At least this was his room in Gror Grar. His bed had been shoved to a corner, and his clothes hung in their nook, though he could not see his sword anywhere. Rharreth had half-expected to wake up in the dungeon like Laesornysh.
Water dripped as someone wrung out a rag behind him. Rharreth tried to twist to see the person helping him, but pain shot up each of the gashes across his back.
“Hold still. You’ll only make things worse.” Zavni’s voice came from behind Rharreth.
Rharreth relaxed at the sound of his shield brother’s voice. Zavni had been his best friend and more of a brother than Charvod had been for years. “How did you convince Charvod to allow you to tend me?”
“The shield band tried to find out what had happened, but only Drurvas had any luck. He was able to convince King Charvod to allow me in, but I only have a few minutes. Drurvas is outside with the guards the king has placed on your door.”
Rharreth should have known. Drurvas was Rharreth’s and Charvod’s cousin, the son of their father’s younger brother. Since he was Rharreth’s age, he had ended up in Rharreth’s shield band. Only family would have enough sway with Charvod right now, and Drurvas always had known the right thing to say to Charvod, even when Rharreth didn’t.
“Is it true what King Charvod is saying? That you defended the enemy warrior and his sister?” Zavni’s voice, normally so cheery, was flat and serious. “King Charvod intends to try you for treason, just as soon as the human and elf armies are turned back.”
Treason. How had things gone so far? When had doing the right thing been considered treason? Rharreth hung his head, letting his body sag from his arms. “Yes, I tried to keep Charvod from torturing the elf princess as he has been torturing her brother Laesornysh.”
Had Charvod gone through with hurting her as soon as Rharreth was unconscious?
Of course, he had.
Was she even now in pain? Who would help her? Would she be able to heal herself?
Rharreth didn’t dare ask Zavni to check on her. His shield band had pushed Charvod to allow them to tend Rharreth, but would they stand by Rharreth when he was accused of treason? Or would they disown him to preserve their own honor and standing?
“Charvod is leading Kostaria down a dangerous road that will lead to our destruction.” Rharreth flexed his fingers as much as he could inside the leather restraints that bound him so that he couldn’t use his magic.
