• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

20

The dungeon guard slowed, hand on the sword at his waist. “What’s this?”

Averella’s pulse throbbed, but she was determined to seize the moment and play her role. She lifted her chin. “Guard, I require your assistance.”

The guard stopped. “What yeh doin’ down here, woman?”

Averella continued to walk as if this were her home. “I have come to see my brother. I am Lady Viola Livna, sister to Sir Rigil Barak of Zerah Rock. The man at the gate sent me down, told me to find a guard to let me in. I suppose you shall have to do.”

The guard’s eyebrows curved into two arcs. “Forgive me, m’lady. Course I’ll let yeh see yer brother.” He turned back the way he came. “I was just fixin’ to choose another prisoner t’execute. Good thing yeh caught me a-fore I did. Might-a picked yer brother to feed to the tanniyn.” He chuckled, as if executing a man were all good fun. At the end of the corridor, he banged on a door. “Back up, yeh roaches. Back, I say!”

Shuffling carried out into the corridor. Grumbling.

The guard peeked through the bars on the door. “Ser Rye Jewel? Come forward.”

Averella glanced at Noam and Gren, who both had turned as pale as milk.

“Lady Averella?” Sir Rigil’s voice.

But when she raised onto her tiptoes and peeked through the barred window, she met a stranger’s face. Scruffy cheeks, oily hair, filthy clothes. “Sir Rigil! Is that you?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Why are you here? Master Rennan said you were coming, but I could not believe it.”

Averella motioned to the guard. “Open this door.”

The guard snorted. “Woman, yer a loon if yeh think I’m gonna do that. Most those men are knights. And I thought yeh said yer name was Lady Viola. Why’d he just call yeh Lady Ava-whatever?”

“Only a nickname.” Averella batted her eyes and stepped up to the guard. “Is there no way I could persuade you?”

The guard scowled, though his ears turned pink. “None of that, now. Yeh can’t dally yer way past me.”

“My lady, please!” Sir Rigil called through the window.

Averella ran her fingers along the guard’s arm then tugged at the neckline of his tunic.

He stared down on her, his expression befuddled. “Now, I’d be glad to spend time with yeh, m’lady, but not so—”

In one motion, Averella executed a perfect leg sweep. Eyes bulging, the guard hit the floor hard. She stomped on his face, and he rolled away, groaning.

She picked up his sword and snagged the keys off his belt. Her voice was calm, though her fingers trembled. “Noam, see that he stays down.”

Noam regarded her as if she had just spoken Barthian. “Yes, my lady.”

“The black key!” Sir Rigil yelled through the bars. “The one with three prongs.”

Averella found the key and managed to twist it in the lock. The door swung open. Sir Rigil rushed out with Bran and two other men at his heels. Bran pushed Noam aside and dragged the dazed guard into the cell. Six more prisoners exited, including a giant with long braided hair, who had to hunch over to keep his head from hitting the ceiling.

The giant’s big brown eyes stared down like overripe plums. He smiled, revealing two rotten bottom teeth. “How are you, Vrell?”

A flood of memories burst through her mind at the sound of his voice. Him standing in Lord Orthrop’s study. Riding a horse behind his festrier. Averella perched in a tree while the giant wielded axes and fought off Eben giants. Him fastening a sword around her waist.

“Jax! Your name is Jax! I remember!” She threw her arm around his waist in a side hug but gagged at his strong body odor. No baths in prison.

“Well, I should hope so, my lady. I’d hate to hear you’d forgotten me so soon.”

She pulled back from their embrace. “Oh, I’ve forgotten everything. Though some has come back in flashes.”

Sir Rigil took the keys from Averella and locked the cell door. “My lady, we must go. Now. It will not be long before another guard patrols this corridor.” He handed the keys to another prisoner. “Boten, free as many as you can. Take care.”

Bran glanced at Averella, then Gren, his face as red as ever. Averella knew it