novelraw Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Three
Dusk found Gregor sitting in one of Roland’s seedy taverns, a mug of ale on the table in front of him. He shifted in the hard chair, adrenaline keeping the fatigue, which hovered on the edges of his conscious, away. He scratched the dirty stubble on his face and hunched over his lukewarm ale. A man sang off key at the top of his lungs near the hearth, his stomping foot pounding along with Gregor’s head and the thoughts of what could have already happened to Nadia. He bit back the urge to howl his fury and rip Roland’s head from his shoulders, clenching his hands around his mug.
Just when he’d decided he couldn’t wait a moment longer, Roland and his two lieutenants rose from their table and crossed to the stairs. Roland said something and one of the lieutenants scowled, but stopped to lean against the wall near the stairs, a sullen scowl on his face. Gregor tamped down his impatience and waited until the lieutenant’s bored gaze wandered to the cleavage of a passing waitress, then moved his hand to flick his ear. One of his men, a nightingale on his lap, stood and pulled the woman’s legs up around his waist, then moved to the shadows near the stairs. Roland’s lieutenant watched the pair, his scowl lifting into a hungry leer as he licked his lips and watched Gregor’s man lift the woman’s skirt.
Gregor signaled again and another of his men tossed coins at the inn keeper and made his way toward the stairs. The lieutenant’s eyes darted between the man moving up the stairs and the man pumping into the nightingale. Gregor glanced at the inn keeper.
The man nodded and went toward the doors separating the kitchens from the bar room. “Kenny, go down and get another barrel. We’re near out,” he yelled.
One of Gregor’s men, his build and looks similar to the inn keeper’s son, pushed through the doors and headed for the stairs. The lieutenant glanced over at him then back toward the moans coming from the shadows, his hand down his unbuckled trousers. Gregor signaled the last nightingale he’d hired. The woman pulled away from the group of Gregor’s men she’d been entertaining and sauntered over to the flushed lieutenant.
The lieutenant’s hungry gaze latched onto the nightingale’s protruding breasts. She leaned in and pressed her lips to his ear. He darted a quick glance toward the stairs. The nightingale reached out and wrapped her fingers around the man’s obvious arousal, jerking his attention away from the stairs. He moaned and shoved the woman deeper into the shadows.
Leaving coin on the table, Gregor pushed to his feet and wound his way around tables toward the stairs. The lieutenant stood, his back to the stairs, his hips jerking toward the face of the kneeling nightingale in front of him. Gregor descended the stairs on silent feet and ducked into a low-ceilinged basement lined with barrels of spirits and sacks of grain.
Across the room, Gregor’s man sat on a barrel and pointed toward a door hidden behind a stack of barrels. “That door leads into a narrow hallway lined with two doors on each side. Roland’s other lieutenant has his ear pressed to the last door on the right.”
Gregor clenched his jaw and nodded. Another of his men descended the stairs as the bald man started a song which soon had the crowd upstairs singing along at the top of their lungs. Sword in one hand, dagger in the other, Gregor turned toward the door.
“Let’s go.”
The man on the barrel stood and eased the door open a crack, then peeked through. The other lieutenant, his ear pressed to the door’s wood planks, stood with his back facing them. Gregor held up three fingers, then pumped his fist. Once. Twice. The third time, they burst through the door into the narrow hallway, Gregor’s dagger leaving his fingers before the second lieutenant could do more than jerk around. The knife burrowed deep into the man’s thigh, eliciting a string of loud curse words. Gregor, annoyed he hadn’t hit the man in his heart as he’d intended, sprinted down the hall, jumped over the man writhing on the floor, and threw the door open.
Nadia, eyes squeezed shut, hung naked by her hands in the center of the room, dried blood on her face and dripping from numerous cuts and bite marks all over her body. Roland stood in front of her, one hand tangled in her hair to hold her head in place, the other hand buried between her legs. He looked up at Gregor’s loud entrance, a scowl on his face.
“I said don’t—”
Gregor bared his teeth. “You’ll pay for each cut, each bruise.”
Nadia’s eyes snapped open, blood shot and blazing with hate. Roland jerked his hand from between Nadia’s thighs and reached for his sword. Gregor met Nadia’s dark stare, then glanced at Roland and back. Nadia blinked.
Gregor moved his free hand on his belt. “Now.”
Nadia jerked to the side, exposing Roland’s entire right side. Gregor flung a throwing star. Roland jerked to the side. The star sliced through the sleeve of his sword arm. Roland cried out and whirled around, pulling his sword with his right hand and grabbing a hot iron from the brazier in the corner with his left.
“You don’t really think you’re going to get past all of Prime Guild with her?” Roland reached for a rope hanging from the ceiling and gave it a hard pull. “Because I can assure you, that won’t happen.”
Roland swung his sword. Gregor parried. Roland stabbed the glowing hot iron toward Nadia’s naked body. Gregor spun away, inserting himself between Nadia and the branding iron. Heat seared along his arm, followed by the smell of charred skin. He clenched his jaw. Roland swung the iron again. Gregor brought his sword up to deflect it. The branding end tangled in his sword’s hilt. Roland yanked it from his hand, leaving him weaponless. Gregor rushed the other man, dodged Roland’s sword, and grabbed the shaft of the iron as close to Roland’s own hand as possible. He yanked the iron from Roland’s hand, gaining more burns along both arms. Roland thrust with his sword, but Gregor deflected with the iron, tangling Roland’s sword hilt. Gregor yanked on the sword, yanking it from the other man’s hand. Roland lurched forward, grabbed his arm, and threw Gregor over his shoulder. Gregor jumped to his feet and turned, his heart sinking. Roland crouched in front of Nadia, Gregor’s sword in his hand.
“Come any closer, and I’ll bury this in her heart.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Nadia muttered as she lifted her bare legs and locked them around Roland’s neck.
Gregor jumped forward, catching Roland’s hand before the man could slide the blade into Nadia’s thigh. Roland’s face blanched white, then red as Nadia tightened her hold until the man struggled to breathe. Gregor met her determined stare and squeezed Roland’s wrist until the dagger dropped from numb fingers, then pulled back his fist and tunneled it into Roland’s stomach. He jerked the gasping man away from Nadia’s body and slammed him face down on the floor.
Yanking the man’s arms up high behind him, he searched Roland’s pockets for the key to Nadia’s manacles. “Dieuroi Mavros won’t take kindly to your mistreatment of anyone of noble blood. It would set a bad precedent, I’m afraid.” He pulled the keys from Roland’s pocket. “I’m going to tie you naked and ass up over a table in the Dieuroi’s dungeon so the other prisoners can each have a go at you until they’re satisfied,” Gregor promised.
Shouts sounded in the hall, and Roland smiled. “You’ll have to get through my men first.”
Gregor met the man’s cocky gaze and gave him a cold smile. “Do you really think I came unprepared?”
Roland’s smile melted.
Gregor called one of his men into the room. “Take him to the palace. If he gives you any trouble, slit his throat.”
The man pressed his sword tight against Roland’s throat after Nadia released him from her leg lock. The soldier dragged him from the room.
Gregor turned toward Nadia and stared into her dark eyes as he lowered her to the ground. Her legs crumpled under her, unable to hold her weight. Gregor caught her against his chest as she fell.
Knowing she’d hate him seeing her so weak, he sought a way to distract her. “How is it that you save my life one moment, then scare me right back to the grave the next?”
She wedged her bound wrists between their bodies and looked up with a scowl that did nothing to hide her wariness. “Get these cursed things off me and hand me your cloak.”
He wiped blood from her face, revealing an already purpling bruise. Nadia flinched. Gregor forced himself to unclench his jaw and smile.
“No kiss for your hero, my darling damsel in distress?” he whispered in her ear.
A smile twitched on her lips, and he knew she’d be fine as a fear he’d held deep inside relaxed. “I’m not distressed, I’m pissed.” She looked up at him, a flash of vulnerability dimming the fire he was used to seeing in her ebony gaze. “I would scrub him from my skin first.”
Gregor closed his eyes and unlocked her manacles. First, he’d see to her every need, then he’d visit the dungeon and beat the life from Roland for the pain he’d caused her. Once securely hidden within the deep folds of his cloak, she went to walk out the door and stumbled. Gregor cursed and swung her into his arms.
Nadia shoved at his chest. “I’m perfectly capable of walking out on my own two feet.”
Gregor lowered his forehead to hers. “I know there’s nothing I could have done to prevent this from happening, but some part of me sees that as a pitiful excuse. You needed me and I wasn’t there. So, please, let me help you. Tell yourself you’re humoring the idiot male if you have to, but please, let me help you,” he softly begged.
Nadia’s gaze softened as he spoke until only a soft frown marred her beautiful face. Without a word, she relaxed and pulled the cloak’s hood over her head and face, then wrapped her arms around his neck.
When she laid her head on his chest, a swelling feeling filled his chest, making his heart pound. Neither said a word as he kissed her forehead and carried her out of the dirt chamber. He climbed the stairs to the inn’s common room to find many of the members of Prime Guild surrounded by his men. Roland’s two lieutenants, one bleeding from the thigh wound inflicted by Gregor, were being held at sword point against the wall. The inn keeper, his wife, the barmaids, and the nightingales huddled behind the bar.
“Innkeeper Gile, please accept my apologies for the interruption of your business tonight.” He scanned the faces of Roland’s men, resting his gaze on the two lieutenants. “I recommend you find a replacement with a little more intelligence for your organization, gentlemen. I’m going to make sure Roland spends the rest of his days in the Dieuroi’s dungeon.”
The lieutenants, their shoulders bent in defeat, simply nodded. He adjusted his hold on Nadia, and she flinched. Gregor clenched his jaw, mentally castigating himself for not getting here sooner.