Page 16 of Splintered Shadow
Not to mention the long tradition of abduction and murder.
That the medic expected Vekele to torture his female—hisguest—was all the motivation he needed to keep Baris on the throne. Arcos desperately needed a leader who could imagine a world at peace. Plenty of bloodthirsty warriors had worn the crown, and the kingdom had suffered.
Arcos needed Baris, and Vekele would do anything to secure Baris’ reign.
In a cool voice, he said, “If I require additional supplies, it is better to have a bandage on hand than to summon you and draw attention. I will not undo your good work by injuring the…” He hesitated to use the word prisoner. “Our guest.”
“Our guest,” Harol repeated, testing out the concept. He nodded, satisfied. Then he tilted his head, regarding Vekele. “And how is your headache?”
“Tolerable,” he admitted.
The ache from damaged tissue and overly sensitive nerve endings was a constant companion. Occasionally, he glimpsed color or movement in his forward vision range, but it was nothing. Only shadow. The phenomenon reminded him of the older soldiers who lost a limb and reported that they could still feel the ache.
He barely noticed.
“You are done,” he said, dismissing the medic.
Now alone, he considered his next steps. Torture and punishment did not yield quality results. Only a fool relied on pain to gather intelligence. Bargaining was effective. Greed motivated many.
He considered all that he had to offer the female. He was a prince, after all. The Arcosian kingdom spanned planets. Its grandeur may have faded in the last century, but it contained many treasures.
Her red hair against the white linen was like a slash of scarlet blood on fresh snow.
Such an ostentatious color. Did she never know the need to hide in the shadows? Was the world she came from safe enough to make herself an obvious target?
His mission was clear now. He filled a basin with warm water and soap. The female required bathing. He could perform this task.
The mattress dipped as he sat beside the female. Starting with her face, he gently worked the damp sponge over her. Carefully, he skirted around the blank spot on the side of her head where her eyes should be. The worst of the grime had dried and matted in her hair. He would need more than a sponge to clean that.
With clinical detachment, he worked his way along her shoulders and down her arms. He wiped away the dirt to examine the design inked on her skin.
It was unmistakably the royal mark, a karu with outstretched wings, framed by a moon. The black ink was not fresh, but not entirely faded.
Curious.
When she woke, he would interrogate—no, question—her and conduct a risk assessment. He would smother her with tenderness and care until she spilled all her secrets.
Having a mission, even one he designed for himself, eased the tension in his chest. It felt familiar, and he welcomed the task.
Chapter Five
Sarah
The third time Sarah woke,she was chained to a bed.
Naked.
Because that was a thing that happened to her now.
In all fairness, it was a very nice bed. The best she’d ever had the pleasure of being chained to. The sheets felt like water against her skin, soft and flowing. The mattress might as well have been a giant marshmallow; it was extra cushy, along with the pillows.
The gray elf sat beyond the foot of the bed in an overly elaborate high-backed black chair, complete with ornate scrollwork. A large black bird perched on the back of the chair. Leaning to one side, the man casually lounged with a hand resting on his knee as he watched her. He looked bored. He might as well have a sign flashing “Villain!” directly over his head.
No, that wasn’t fair. He saved her from the shadow monsters.
“Hey, hey,” she said, her voice little more than a croak. “Hey!”
The bird squawked, and the man leaned forward, no longer pretending to be bored.
