Chapter Four
Keane was a broken man. He rarely ate. He only slept when he blacked out due to his immense fatigue and greatly disheveled condition. Not surprisingly, his health suffered tremendously. On the thirty second day of his incarceration, Keane received a most unexpected visitation that woke him from his mournful state for in stealth did Queen Steyan come to visit. One of the King’s archers aided her as he alone knew a path to the solitary east facing window as his father long before had been detained there.
Queen Steyan was appalled at Keane’s deplorable condition for he was very weak and only by sheer determination was he was able to pull himself to his feet and gaze in her eyes for what he thought would prove the final time. They both broke into tears and Steyan told him of the hardships she been put through and how she was being drugged and how she’d somehow still managed to curtail the advances of King Bram but only at great peril and cost. Thus Keane became outraged and swore to not only to escape his confines but plunge a dagger through the heart of his onetime comrade.
But Steyan stayed his rage saying he was not fit enough to pry a slothbunny from a salt lick— though she did confide a scheme to him, urging him to be ready in twenty eight days more or they would both surely die… which they would no doubt anyway because the plan had no real hope of success.
In slightly less than a month’s time it would be her birthday and the King had made it plain he would give her anything she requested providing she gave him the one thing she had thus far denied him— her unsullied satin body.
She would request that Keane be brought to her, knowing it would incense the King’s anger which hopefully would lead to him making some form of grievous error which would light a path to their escape. On top of this she made Keane swear to kill her should their plan fail which Keane did only with great hesitation and through a parade of tears.
She then left and Keane collapsed to the ground where he did not move until his breakfast was slid through the hatch in the door. Being far too weak to rise, he then pulled himself across the charred ground slowly with his hands and shared his first meal in days with mice for having not the strength to fight them off… and, to be fair, he was outnumbered for there were two of the greedy buggers after all.
Keane was served two meals a day which he soon turned into four by bartering information with the guards. He told them who best to forge acquaintances with in order to move upwards quickly in the ranks. He taught them combat moves he’d never shown anyone ever before. He instructed them in ways of High Court etiquette and how to avoid igniting the ire of the new Guard Captain. He taught them they must respect themselves first and foremost before they could expect any other to grant them like courtesy.
The guards were in awe of Keane and it was not long before they concocted a story between them of him being so hard to handle they required no less than six to keep him restrained and under control. Keane was wrath as this became apparent for he knew well that word of this would soon travel to King Bram and he would rather have had the king think him weak and inconsequential as opposed to unruly and formidable.
And thus it was on the sixtieth day of Keane’s incarceration that his six guards were instructed to bring their prisoner to the castle for a private audience with both King and Queen. The guards were beside themselves with excitement for they saw this as a glorious opportunity to exhibit the graces and etiquette they’d practiced so diligently.
As for Keane he said little but merely prayed he was strong enough to accomplish all he intended and as he looked at the faces of his grinning captors he couldn’t help but wonder how many of them might die at his own hands before the night was through— which hurt as he’d grown fond of all of them though still he knew he’d do it nonetheless and without the slightest hesitation.
Strangely, it was very late into the night before Keane was at last summoned before the King and Queen. Strangely, the irregular reunion was held in a setting that Keane was not familiar with for he’d never set foot in such a room before though he felt certain he’d seen all of the castle’s more reclusive chambers at one time or other.
The Captain of the King’s Guard, Odum Daeg, was most conspicuously present for he stared spitefully at Keane who strode forth boldly in shackles and chain. Keane’s eyes immediately flew to Queen Steyan where they locked just as they had a thousand times before. King Bram spoke.
“So… in compliance to the Queen’s wishes have I allowed convict Keane to gaze upon her beauty one last time. Look upon one another now though realize your green eyes shall never set upon him ever again. Wallow in each other’s company knowing naught but blank eyes shall ever stare otherwise again!” The King rose from his chair and smiled.
“But, seeing as you are here Keane, I do want you to know I shall take good care of her for I shall adorn her gifts the likes of which you could never imagine— let alone bestow!.” He now turned to his Queen.
“Shut your eyes,” he said softly but Queen Steyan just kept staring at Keane. “SHUT YOUR EYES!” bellowed the King.
His voice then returned soft as he cooed, “For I have a gift— a gift of all gifts— something so very special that I want Keane to witness your expression upon seeing it— for then he shall know, once and for all, which of us is the better man.”
The Queen shut her eyes tight and the King took her hand and bid her rise. He then slid behind her, guiding her across the room until she stood before an oddly thick piece of drapery covering what appeared to be a picture mounted on the wall. Most likely a portrait of himself mused Keane.
“You may open your eyes now… but I warn you… whatever else you see afterwards shall forever pale in comparison… appear quite formless and vague in fact.”
Queen Steyan fought the urge to turn and look at Keane. King Bram smiled and Keane felt his hackles rise for he knew something was awry for having seen that same smile before. He took a step forward instinctively and Odum sneered, closing the gap between them. Keane watched horrified as the King’s right hand went to pull away the fabric while his left slid most covertly to a place beneath it.
Keane saw the King close his eyes tight, then turn and step aside. Keane acted, snapping the jaw of Odum with his heavily shackled hands. Odum crumbled. Keane side-stepped him in a flash but not before pulling free the Captain’s sword which he let fly in the same lightning quick motion— straight at the head of beautiful Queen Steyan.
King Bram, having released the secret latch, quickly withdrew to safety as a picture of a smiling King Bram began to fall aside to reveal a newly chiseled East facing window which at once let in the lethal rays of the Searing Sun. Keane’s sword struck in the same instance, wedging itself in a piece of frame which exploded into flames.
Keane’s heart pounded in alarm but then eased slightly as he saw Queen Steyan close her eyes again and turn her head away though even in that briefest of moments had the sword turned white hot etching the Queen’s eyes irreversibly within the blistering blade’s reflection— and then it shattered, scattering broken shards everywhere. Queen Steyan had stepped away not a moment too soon.
“Seize the prisoner!” hollered King Bram, making a hasty retreat for he knew the wrath of Keane well.
“And for God’s sake close that portal before we all burn!”
The Queen’s vacated chair burst to flame as the sun seared a hole through it and began to blacken the stone walls in back of it. One of the guards crawled over to pull the hidden latch before being knocked unconscious by Keane who put his knee to his head.
Keane struck down two more guards on his way to Queen Steyan who sat in a crumpled heap, both hands clutching her face. Keane pulled her flat to the ground, hugging her tight. He slowly pulled her fingers away and jeweled eyes blazed wildly back at him— eyes far brighter than any dazzling emerald or sunlit piece of jade he had ever seen. He knelt in front of her and could not look away for his heart froze as he stared into her fire struck eyes.
“Kill me Keane,” s
he whispered as tiny wisps of steam fled her eyes as she cried. “Kill me now,” she repeated shoving the broken hilt of the Captain’s sword into his hands. It was then that one of Keane’s guardsmen found the courage to bring his spear crashing down upon Keane’s head knocking him unconscious.
He awoke in his cell a short time later, sweating profusely for the Unforgiving Sun blazed freely into his cell further blackening the stone floor. Keane’s head had been bandaged and it pounded as if a hypertoad had somehow been locked inside. A plate of food was shoved through the hatch in the door— followed by the broken hilt of the Captain’s sword. Keane sat up. A voice he recognized as one of his guardsmen came through the door.
“Use it to kill yourself! They are planning to dismember you publicly upon dawn’s morrow!” The hatch snapped shut and Keane heard footsteps fleeing the hall.
Keane knew he had to get back to the castle— and fast! A blind Steyan would be no match for a jaded King with his heart set on vengeance! Keane rose to fetch the broken hilt of sword— it still held enough blade to capture one of Queen Steyan’s unnaturally lit green eyes.
Keane overturned the plate of food and being extremely careful, while dangling it from the broken sword; he exposed a portion of the metal plate to the streaming rays, directing the airborne furnace towards the bottom of the thick wooden door… which burst to flame. Keane crept closer to wait and the moment the massive door fell from its hinges he dove behind it, rolling into the deserted, smoke filled corridor. Keane ran, passing many other dungeon cell doors before spying the hatch he knew would lead to the servant’s tunnels— and back to the castle.
The network of tunnels was nothing short of a labyrinth; making them even harder to navigate, besides the lack of light and how physically confining they were, was the fact that Keane had never been in them before. Keane pulled the broken hilt from the back of his right boot where he had tucked it. His calf was sore and he thought the blade had bitten him when in fact it had burned its image into his skin for having been so hot. The eye in the broken sword did not blink for it not only lit the tunnel but seemed almost to point the way whenever Keane feared he might be hopelessly lost.
The tunnels were cramped and dirty and the air tasted like soot. As Keane came closer to the castle the tunnel narrowed severely and he could do no more than crawl. It was stifling hot and Keane’s head throbbed so hard he thought it might burst to flame. When at long last it did begin to cool ever so slightly, Keane clamored up the first exit hatch he came to and found himself well within the castle walls and in fact, quite fortuitously, not all that far from the King’s Royal Chambers.
Keane trudged onwards much more cautiously now. He knew there’d be at least two guards posted at the King’s door… quite likely more. The first guard Keane came across was asleep at his post and Keane ensured he’d stay that way. There were indeed two more guards posted outside the Royal Chamber doors but neither were guarding anything, in fact they were both facing the doors… one with his eye to the keyhole describing everything he saw and the other listening with great intent. Both of their spears rested against the wall behind them.
“The King has her by the hair and he’s dragging—” That was as far as he got before the gurgling noises erupted from his throat in red streams. The second guard turned in the nick of time to find himself impaled lengthwise with his own spear. Keane stared him in the eye watching the man’s spirit dissolve.
“I wish I could say it wasn’t personal… but it is,” whispered Keane. He brought the guard’s body gently to the ground, pulled free the bloody spear and closed the man’s eyes for the final time. He rose, turned the door latch, stepped into the room and quickly pulled the door shut behind him. He brought the heavy spear shaft down upon the inside latch and it shattered.
“Who’s there?” queried a voice… the voice of the King though its tone did not sound very majestic. Keane thrust one spear into the wall, using his boot to jam its other end into the floor. Keane turned to see the green glowing eyes of Steyan staring back at him.
“It’s you… isn’t it! Well come on then… I’ve got your precious little bitch by the hair and will break her neck if you dare come nearer! What d’ya think of that… Captain Keane?”
But Keane had already covered the distance, his shard of sword sliced through Steyan’s long braided locks to free her while he plunged the other spear through King Bram’s shoulder, exploding his collarbone, and embedding it in the enormous bed pillar behind him. He then pushed the broken hilt of sword like a dagger to the groin of King Bram with pitiless intent.
“Let me go!” pleaded Bram, “Allow me to leave and I shall do no less than the same for you! Keane! Let me go!” Keane stood his ground, unmoved.
“I’m afraid Bram there is only one way by which you may leave this post.” Keane replied and the King’s face turned ghostly white in the darkness.
“By dismemberment,” Steyan replied firmly.
“Exactly,” answered Keane, twisting the hilt of his one-eyed sword shard callously and it did not look away or blink.
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