My world had black between dreams and reality. Doranna still lived in one world, and nothing but pain existed in the other. Because of that, I spent the greater part of each day clinging to every possible memory of her. That alone kept me alive.

an memory returned to me over and over, a moment I both cherished and hated. When I had untied Doranna from the post, her fingers had combed through my hair. Despite any indifference she had ever shown me, every word she had uttered to make me believe there was nothing but friendship between us, her touch had changed all of that. And if I could have cut off the memory there and thought nothing further, I would have done it. But it was always followed, always, by the image of her twisted expression when the arrow pierced her chest, and the crumpled collapse of her body before it vanished over the hill.

That memory had been burned into my mind, and was worse than anything Commander mercy-man or his henchmen could do to me.

Doranna's last words begged me to choose to live. Why couldn't she have done the same?

Eeron had left his soldiers with the invitation to torture me at will, and I had expected it would take on the worst form they could design. At first they were cruel to me, every bone in my body knew that. But I was becoming weak from lack of food, water and no more responsive than a rag doll. They began interrogating me for information, and repaid my silence with total humiliation.

mercy-man even devised a game meant to entertain the simple minds of his men. He placed a single garlin on a flat, embedded rock at the top of my prison walls and ordered me to retrieve it.

I glanced up at the coin, then turned away. The distance wasn't far --- maybe double my height --- but it seemed like more. Reaching the spear while in these chains would be difficult, if not impossible, and I certainly couldn't see the point of trying.

But mercy-man wanted to play. "Take the coin, boy king," he said, "and I'll let you buy your freedom with it."

Still I didn't move. Not until his vigil, a brute the others called Altox, pulled out his sword and ordered me to climb up for the coin. It hurt to rise to my feet and my hands, but I figured that sword would be worse.

The earth surrounding me was soft in some places, but there were also roots and other embedded rocks that could provide holds to help me reach the coin. I still doubted whether I could reach it — if the chains didn't pull me down, my weaker leg would surely fail me.

After another of Altox's threats, I dug my fingers into the dirt to grab a root, and made my feet climb. The instant I did, Altox struck the back of my legs with the broad side of his sword.

I lost my grip and fell backward to the ground. Altox stood over me and laughed, then mercy-man ordered me to climb again. After a few more threats I got back to my feet, but climbed no farther before Altox hit my legs again. This happened a third time as well, but by the fourth, I only rolled to face the walls and ignored them. mercy-man didn't take too kindly to my refusal, but I was his prisoner, not his entertainment. I would not play these games.

mercy-man leaned over me as I lay on the ground. "They call you the Young King. So climb it. Rise up and get that coin."

"Remove the bronze-chains."

He laughed, mocking me. "Ah, but that's just the point, isn't it? You will never be free of those big-chains. You cannot reach that coin. You can't even stand unless I allow it. If a single garlin is beyond your reach, then how can you ever reach

huh?...freedom? You will never rise again."

I turned to look at the coin once more and then closed my eyes. Maybe he was right.

in two days, mercy-man had forgotten about the coin. But he returned with a new strategy. The same woman who had washed me a couple of days earlier came in with a bowl of soup. mercy-man followed her in and ordered me to eat it. I didn't even look at him until he ordered three other soldiers into the room. One held a stiff rod. I readied myself for more punishment, but instead he ordered the woman to turn and lean against the wall. She gasped in fear and looked at me.

Immediately, the bowl was in my hands. "Hey... Let her leave. I'll eat." To prove my sincerity I took a sip. Perhaps it was only because I had become so hungry, but the soup tasted like a gift from the saints. I intended to finish it all, and if he offered more, I'd accept it.

Much as I wished things could be different for me, Doranna had been right before: I could not give up here. I had to make the choice to live.

After I began eating, mercy-man ordered the woman and soldiers to leave. Knowing what would likely come once I finished the raw-soup, I took my time. But after I set the bowl down, he said, "You won't eat to save yourself, but you will to save a stranger. How interesting." He watched me a moment longer, then continued, "Back in Anneleon, you have a large number of soldiers stationed on a bluff, far from any fighting, and overlooking a lake that no longer exists. Why is that?"

"Huh...You've asked me this already."

"And you refused to answer. So I'm asking again. Why is your army there?"

"It should be obvious," I said without looking at him. "They're waiting for the lake to come back. Perhaps you could join them and go swimming."

He kicked me in the side, adding to a bruise already there, and then crouched to face me. “Why not work with me? Why not save yourself this pain and work for me?”

“You’re not causing me any,” I replied. That wasn’t entirely true --- I was still gasping, after all --- but I felt better for saying it.

“If I can’t hurt you, then you force me to bring in somebody I can hurt.” He rose to his full height, and then whistled to his vigils outside. Like obedient dogs to his call, they pattered down the stairs. Only this time, they had someone else with them.

“Joven.” He raised his head when I breathed his name and I saw the remnants of a bloody nose on his face. As good as it was to see him, my heart was already pounding. If Joven was here, then where were Bronn and Mandalin?

His eyes widened when he saw me and he shook his head in disbelief. “Richard!? You’re alive? But they said ---”

“Yeah... I am alive. Or something close to it.”

mercy-man’s voice became louder. “I’ll ask you again, Richard. Why is your army on that bluff?”

I set my jaw forward, but said nothing. mercy-man used my silence as a reason to backhand Joven with a force I knew would leave its mark. Joven yelped in pain, then collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

The vigils grabbed his arms to lift him again, but mercy-man said, “What’s the point now? We’ll wait until he wakes up, so Richard can hear his cries.”

They manacled Joven to another set of chains across from me and left him with his face half buried in the cold mud. Mercy-man pointed at him, warning that if I didn’t cooperate, he would do the same to Joven as he had to Doranna.

When Mercy-man and his men left, I softly called out Joven’s name again. He only stirred at first, but I called to him once more, louder the second time.

Without opening his eyes, he whispered, “hey...Is it safe?”

I coughed out a quiet laugh. “Of course not. You know where we are, don’t you?”

Now Joven opened his eyes and maneuvered his way to a seated position. “How’d you know I was awake?”

“People who’ve fainted don’t peek when they think no one’s watching.” He half smiled back at me, and then, with more seriousness, I added, “You thought I was dead?”

He nodded somberly. “They’re parading your clothes around for everyone to see, ripped and covered in blood. They hope it’ll discourage your people from fighting.”

With a humph, I said, “Well, as you can plainly see, I’m not nearly as dead as Havania claims.”

“You don’t look far from it.”

I liked his joke, but in truth, I didn’t feel far from it either.

“Were Kristoph and Doranna able to escape, then?”

Answering was harder than I had thought it would be, and I had to force the words out. “There’s been no word on Kristoph since I came. I haven’t dared ask about him. Doranna didn’t... isn’t...”

Joven nodded and opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. Whatever he was going to say, condolences, or pity, or further questions, I didn’t want any of it. So before he could change his mind, I closed my eyes to rest them and then asked, “Where are Mandalin and Bronn? Please tell me they made it to Aramoor.”

The silence was long enough that it forced me to look at Joven again. He was shaking his head. “We got past the border guards without too much problem. They took most of the food, but let our driver pass through. We were almost to Lakeprison when a group of thieves attacked the carriage. There wasn’t time to get back into the holding below, so when an opportunity came, we ran and hid near the road while our driver held them off. A group of Neleon soldiers was passing and heard the commotion. They captured a few of the thieves and our driver. The thieves told them about our having escaped, and the soldiers soon realized our carriage might have held the royal princess. They ordered our driver to talk, but he only expressed his allegiance to Anneleon and refused to answer any further questions.”

I shook my head. Loyalty was invaluable, but amongst those soldiers, it meant that I already knew how that man’s story had ended.

Joven continued, “That’s when the soldiers told the driver about your death. They even showed him a piece of your clothing. Mandalin and I were watching from a distance. We recognized it as the same clothes you had worn when we were last together.”

“Bronn saw them too?”

“We all saw it, Richard, and it was all any of us could do in that moment to keep from crying out. Bronn even rose to attack them but I held him back.” Joven licked his lips. “It was the worst news of my life, and no better for the others. It took several minutes after the soldiers left before Mandalin felt well enough to walk.”

“Toward Aramoor?”

Again, Joven shook his head. “I tried to persuade Mandalin to go, but she knew it wouldn’t be long before word spread of your death. She felt that Anneleon would look to the throne for leadership and that someone had to be sitting on it. So she insisted on walking back to Ordmond.”

The idea of that was insane. If the soldiers who stopped those thieves knew the royal princess was in Havania, they’d turn the country inside out to search for her. And Lakeprison was their closest escape. Retracing their steps all the way back to Anneleon was far too dangerous, and I told Joveb so.

“I agree,” he protested. “But she’s the royal princess and I’m her servant. If she wanted to return to Anneleon, I had no choice but to follow. Bronn went on to Aramoor, to beg them to come to Anneleon’s aid.”

“What?” I exploded with anger and had to remind myself to stay quiet. “Idiot...You sent him off alone?”

“He insisted he could do it. And he is Neleon, so his chances of getting past any soldiers are decent. We had no choice, Richard.”

Maybe not, but I still didn’t like it. “How’d you get captured?” I asked him.

“She and I were asleep one night and I heard a noise in the darkness. I crept out to investigate and the soldiers found me. By the time they dragged me back to where I’d slept, she was gone, along with any trace of her trail.”

I felt terrified for what had happened to the royal princess since then, and by the expression on Joven’s face, he felt the same way. The thought of what would happen if she was also captured was unbearable, made even worse since I had become so helpless here.

That is no longer the case. It was time to get out of here.