A Dove's Tale

Chapter 75

"This was a waste of time."

The voice of my torturer dragged me back to consciousness, but I didn't lift my head or open my eyes. He left me alone when I passed out, which was more and more frequently. And he wasn't talking to me. Not that eavesdropping would do me any good.

"Not necessarily," Baron Flandre replied. "Prince Gilbert will almost certainly agree to the deal, whether we have any extra information to give him or not, and-"

"Prince Gilbert?" I asked, lifting my head with some difficulty. My throat was raw from screaming, and my voice sounded so harsh that I barely recognized it.

"Maybe you haven't been asking the right questions," Baron Flandre said to the bloody man beside him. "What do you know about Prince Gilbert?"

I wanted to laugh, but it hurt too much just to breathe. "You're...worse than...dead," I gasped out.

The baron's eyes narrowed, and he stormed over to me, grabbing my chin roughly. "What are you saying?"

If only I had the strength to explain. I had to choose my words carefully, though, as each one came with a stabbing pain in my chest. "Two tigers...hunting...you down."

His eyes widened with realization as he caught my reference to Prince Chevalier and Prince Gilbert's crests - a white tiger and a black tiger. He released me and rounded on the torturer. "What is she talking about?" he demanded.

"Nothing, that's what. Prince Gilbert got her alone a few times for questioning, but never for long, and-"

"He didn't...want...information. Just...me."

"You idiot!" the baron exploded. "If he finds out what we've done to her, we'll be lucky if he abandons us to punishment by Rhodolite!"

"She's making it up to rattle us," the torturer argued.

I really wished I could laugh, but I couldn't even hold my head up anymore. This was probably why Prince Chevalier couldn't prevent this from happening. He couldn't account for sheer stupidity.

"Baron Flandre," a third man interrupted nervously. A young man, by the sound of his voice.

"What is it?" the baron snapped.

"Our scouts say Prince Chevalier is almost here," the young man replied shakily. "And..."

"Speak, you coward."

"He's riding ahead alone, but there's an army behind him, led by Prince Clavis. Estimated to be...about five hundred men," he said, his voice faltering.

The silence was deafening. I closed my eyes and smiled.

"We only have two hundred, and they're all green," the torturer said. "And without reinforcements from Obsidian-"

"Back to your post," Baron Flandre said. "You're with me."

"Whatever you say," the torturer mumbled. I felt cold metal on my back and flinched. "Keep this safe for me, will you?" he said mockingly, and then their footsteps and their voices retreated, leaving me alone with a bloody dagger tucked into the waistline of my shredded nightgown.

This was almost over. Now it was just a question of whether I lived long enough to be rescued.

A commotion echoing down the cold, stone corridor dragged me back to consciousness again. I listened - metal on metal, shouts, screams - and I knew he was here. And I was still alive.

Unless this was a dream.

I was in too much pain for this to be a dream.

"No. You're insane. I'm taking the escape tunnel, and I'm getting out of here," the torturer shouted, his voice approaching with fast footsteps.