8. Five

Five

Prisoner of War

A sher's foot caught on a tree root, causing him to stumble and nearly fall. The soldier he was tied to glared and kicked his good shoulder, this time dropping him to his knee.

They had run out of food the day before, and everyone—including the soldiers—were exhausted and starving, leaving them short-tempered.

Finally, the road widened, the trees seeming to spread open to reveal a castle on the top of the tallest hill.

"Welcome home, boys!" the captain called out to his men.

The soldiers seemed to be driven now that home was in sight, and they pressed the new slaves forward as fast as they could.

"When I get home, I'm going to kiss my wife and daughter and sit down and eat enough to fill me until I can't move!" one man said eagerly.

"I'm going straight to the tavern for some good ale. And you know Rosy can cook some mighty fine food."

"I'm gonna eat a whole lamb!"

"Nah, give me a pig with some potatoes and onions."

The soldiers laughed.

Asher's lips tightened.

"When we get to Rencheston, we take the prisoners immediately to King Barith," the captain ordered. "Only then will you men be excused to return to your homes."

The soldiers grumbled.

The prisoners exchanged worried glances.

Asher couldn't find the strength to offer them any comfort. Although the humans had ripped the arrow from his shoulder, no care had been given. It was still extremely painful and likely infected at this point. He'd tried to get a look at the wound a couple of times, but he was covered in dirt from traveling across the river, and the dust had turned to mud when mixed with his blood.

As they climbed the hill, the soldiers standing on top of the ramparts spotted them. One ran across to a large brass horn. He took a breath and blew with all the air in his lungs a single, loud note that—to the soldiers—was strong and proud.

To the men of Vasha, it was foreboding.

The entourage entered through the outer gates as the people began to fill the streets to see their soldiers returning home. The city of Rencheston was surrounded by two stone walls: an inner wall that protected the castle and an outer wall that protected the homes, shops, and market of those who lived and served in the castle. The commoners must have lived in the smaller homes Asher had spotted on their journey.

The men sat tall on their horses, some waving as they journeyed up a cobblestone road. Faded clothing hung from wash lines overhead, and the stone buildings with little shops on the main floor stood so close together. Asher believed they were closer than most of the trees in the forest of Vasha.

Asher's lip curled in disgust.

Everything in this city was cluttered and dirty. Even the people. The smell was enough to make his eyes water. Asher desperately wanted to pinch his nose closed, and would have if his hands weren't chained before him.

This place was nothing like Vasha.

Asher and his men were led through the open gate of the inner wall. While there was mild relief from the smell and people, the stone castle was less than welcoming. But Asher's eyes gazed at the men lined up in front of the castle—at least a hundred men in orderly rows, and standing in the center of the path were a handful of men.

Two wore crowns.

Asher figured they had to be the king and his son, and he noticed the prince standing tall in spite of the cane in his left hand. Asher glanced down and noted the prince had no left leg below the knee. What sorts of battles had he been in at such a young age?

The soldiers who had accompanied Asher and his men slid off their horses.

The king stepped forward, clapping and smiling. "Welcome home! Tonight, you shall feast within the walls of the castle. Your families have already been invited."

Asher glanced at his own men. Their eyes darted around like the cornered animals they were.

Sir Andrew stepped forward and bowed. "Your Highness. I imagine the messenger already informed you of our inability to locate the tree. I do believe there may be magic shielding its location."

"You and I shall speak of the change of events," the king said in an untertone, one with a deadly edge to it. "Bring the prisoners into the throne room." The king turned and led the way to the castle.

His son stole a glance at Asher, and their eyes locked. Asher narrowed his eyes into a glare, and the opposing prince scoffed at him before following his father.

Asher had thought the entire journey of ways they could try to escape, but only one attempt had been made—and was unsuccessful. His other ideas of escape were as flimsy as the last piece of thread holding up the banner draped over the side of the wall.

He hissed in pain when one of the soldiers shoved him forward.

Asher threw him a glare, but the soldier didn't even meet his gaze. Asher fell in line behind his men. All he could think of as they entered the stone walls was how the castle was far too large for one family to live in. His palace back home had eight bedrooms—one for his parents, one for each of his siblings and himself, and a spare room for a guest. The center building of their palace was the grand dining hall, but the land had grown enough that all the people no longer fit inside. The celebrations had been moved outside.

This castle?

Asher imagined everyone in Vasha could live within the walls and still have room.

As if the size of the human castle weren't enough, the gaudiness of the throne room took his breath away. His home was designed with carved pillars and torches on the walls to light the main hall. The human castle had a room just for the throne. Two candle chandeliers made of gold and glistening jewels hung overhead. The ceiling was painted a greenish blue with gold trim. Four sets of windows lined the wall to their left, spilling bright sunlight into the room and making it glisten. Between each window was a detailed painting of a previous king, and standing candelabras with at least a dozen candles each stood about the room.

The throne was also immaculately designed. It sat upon a platform, four steps above, and had large armrests and a high back. Like the chandeliers, it was made of gold and jewels. The cushions were made of plush red velvet. Smaller plush seats sat along the wall to the right, presumably for guests of the king whenever he needed them in the throne room.

Asher had never seen such richness in his entire life. In his land, gaudiness such as this didn't exist, even in the palace. Yes, some small jewels had been found, but they were only ever used in the making of wedding bands. The iron mines in their land were used only for making necessities such as plows, horse shoes, and farming equipment. They certainly didn't flaunt treasure.

The king, a man as elaborately decorated as his throne room, sat down upon his throne. His robes were red, white, black, and gold. Around his neck hung three golden chains, one of which had a large sapphire inside. Although he looked regal, his eyes showed a dark cruelty. His son stood to his right.

"I am King Barith. Your king and I met years ago. He broke a promise to me, and I simply wish to have what was promised. I need the location of the tree." The king rose to his feet and stepped down from his throne. "You can tell me now and all of you will be properly fed, washed, and treated as guests in my castle. When you feel ready, my men will return you to the borders of your land."

Asher kept a close eye on the king. He had no weapon on his hip, but every other human in the room did. Even the prince had a sword about his waist.

King Barith stopped in front of Asher. "You are the youngest. I'll start with you. Where is the tree you call the Tree of Rose?"

Asher met his look with the coldest expression he could muster. "We all told your men that none of us know."

King Barith's eyes flickered to the captain and back.

Asher continued. "The Tree of Rose is a story I was told as a child. We would go out looking for it, but in my seventeen years of life, we've never found any tree that looks different than any other in the forest."

The king's lips tightened and he grabbed Asher's jaw. "If you do not tell me the location of the tree, I have no choice but to force its location from your lips. Perhaps we should try torture? Rip the flesh from your body? Or should I allow my wizard to prod your minds?" He shoved Asher's face away.

"Wizard?" Garith, one of Asher's men, whispered.

The king's eyes darted to him. "Yes. He uses magic. But you know all about magic, don't you? You're animal shifters. Blessed with magic in your bones."

Asher had never met a wizard. He didn't know men could control magic. His people were touched by magic, yes, but the only one who could manipulate it was the enchantress.

The king snapped his fingers and waved a guard to Asher. "We will start with him. Take the boy to Wester."

From somewhere beside the throne, a young boy rushed over with a damp towel in his hands and began washing the king's hand, the one that had touched Asher. The boy froze, however, and the king looked down at him.

"Prince Asher!" the child gasped.

The king glanced at Asher in time to see him flinch, and then gazed down at the child again. "What do you mean, prince ?"

The child cowered, eyes down. "I-I didn't mean . . . he's not. I just . . ."

The king slapped the boy with the back of his hand, leaving a red mark on the child's cheek. "Tell me the truth. You know I don't like asking twice."

The boy whimpered and put his hand on his cheek. He had dropped the towel, revealing short pointed fingernails and glittering golden-tan scales on the backs of his hands, which faded to skin before they reached his elbow.

Asher's jaw tightened.

The mark of a viper.

The vipers had once been part of Vasha, but they had been cursed when they sided with the elves and betrayed their own people. What was this boy doing here in a human castle?

"You're the prince?" the king said and then laughed. "What luck!"

Asher straightened the best he could. "I am. Why does it matter?"

The king's dark eyes lit with excitement. "If you are truly the prince, you will know the location of your precious tree." His eyes shifted to the guard standing behind Asher. "Send him to Wester immediately. Put everyone else in the dungeon for now. If we don't get the information we need from him, we will go through each and every one of these men until we learn the location of that tree."

The dark-haired soldier Asher recognized, Takai, stepped forward. "As you wish, my king." He took Asher by the arm and guided him toward the door.

Asher resisted for only a moment, locking eyes with the king. "Even if one of us did know where it was, what is your purpose in finding it? It's only a tree."

The king raised his brow. "Why would I tell an animal? Take him to Wester." He waved his fingers dismissively.

Takai tugged Asher's arm and pulled him from the throne room and into the halls. He noticeably looked over his shoulder once and made a motion as though to tell someone to follow, but Asher couldn't tell who it could be or where they hid.

The maze of hallways was impossible for Asher to follow in his current condition, and he knew if he even managed to escape, he would never find his way out.

They finally reached a grand staircase, passing several servants as they walked. One caught his eye—a girl in blue-gray robes who stopped and stared at him. For a brief moment, from the back of his mind, Asher thought he recognized her. From a dream or memory, he didn't know, but he could have sworn he'd seen those striking green eyes before.

Takai stopped beside a door and knocked three times. "Wester!" he called.

Asher eyed the tapestry Takai had pulled away from the door and his eyes slowly widened. The golden eagle, the beautiful woman...why would they have this tapestry hanging in this human castle? Before he could ask, the door opened and a tall, thin man eyed them. His brown eyes had the same coldness as the castle.

A cruel grin appeared on his face. "By the moon."

"King Barith asked for you to get information from him. He is the prince from Vasha."

The wizard's eyebrows lifted, and he looked Asher up and down. "The boy is filthy. I don't want him in my tower like this. Lily just spent all morning cleaning it. Take him to the dungeons for now, have him cleaned up, and I will send her to take care of the wounds." He looked back at Takai.

"The dungeons?"

"It may help the others know we are serious if they can hear what he goes through," Wester added.

Asher's lip twitched. "You mean torture."

"You may call it that if you so wish. But you don't have to endure it if you just...tell." He tilted his head.

"Master Wester?" a woman's voice asked.

The men turned and looked at the girl Asher had noticed on the stairs.

She glanced from the soldier and Asher to the wizard. "I finished my chores...I was looking for you to see if you needed anything more."

He stepped aside. "Come in, Lily. Takai will be taking this boy to the dungeons. I need you to get a bucket and medicine while I gather some clean rags. Clean his wounds. And you should probably give him some food."

"You want me to go to the dungeons?" She stared at the old man with wide eyes. "But Wester..."

"I will be with you," Takai offered with a friendly smile. "I'll make sure you're safe. I know the soldiers down there can be...how do I say this politely? Boorish?"

Lily's lips tugged. "Thank you."

Wester went to turn away, but paused. "Lily, mind your magic down there. We don't need any guards as ladybugs."

She rolled her eyes but replied with a "Yes, sir" before she hurried past the wizard and disappeared up the spiral steps.

Wester watched her and put his hand on Asher's injured shoulder. The weight alone made him begin to grimace. "It has been some time since I have been able to practice this sort of magic. It will be quite fun, don't you think?"

Asher's jaw flexed and he resisted the urge to shout in pain.

"I honestly hope you don't say anything. I miss playing with my magic."

"I should get him down to the dungeon," Takai said. "I'll return shortly to help Lily carry the necessary items she might need to help heal him."

"Yes." The wizard slowly dropped his arm down to his side and smirked before he winked at Asher.

Takai pulled Asher away before Asher could growl.

Asher felt a tremble run through his body.

"You can't shift here," Takai muttered.

"I wasn't trying to," he said sharply. It was true, he hadn't tried. Although, each of his men had tried the entire way back.

"It's the iron." The soldier rattled the chains binding Asher's wrists. "There's some sort of counteracting spell in the iron. I don't fully understand it myself, but it cancels out certain types of magic."

Takai led Asher back down the stairs, through a different hallway, and down a second set of stairs that led them into a cold hallway with no windows and guards positioned every ten yards or so.

At the end of the hallway, Takai unlocked a heavy door and then led Asher through. A staircase led down to a level where a table was set up with a few guards sitting around it, drinking and talking. The soldier nodded to the men as he led Asher down the stone staircase to the left of the room. There were two barred doors on each wall, and one heavy metal door at the very end.

The soldier led him to the heavy metal door, unlocked it, and pushed him inside. "I will return with Lily shortly." He took Asher to the corner of the room where a chain sat. He locked Asher's wrists to the chain, but he paused at the door when he went to leave. "You aren't alone," he whispered. "Not everyone in the kingdom agrees with what the king has done."

Asher's breath caught, but he was hesitant to be hopeful. "What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

The guard shook his head softly. "It means I don't agree with you being here, or with what my fellow soldiers have done to your people. I must fetch Lily." He closed the door.

Asher looked around the room, the only light coming from the bars in the window of the door. He took a slow breath and sat down on the floor. Although he desperately wanted to look for a way out, he was too exhausted and the darkness was inviting enough for him to close his eyes.

Who was Takai? And why should he be willing to help? It didn't matter, so long as he could trust the human to get him and his men out and home. But if he was lucky, perhaps they could even save his father.