Given to the Savage(65)

More soldiers came then as the fighting began. Silas threw one off only to have another come at him, more footsteps rushing toward him as commands were called out. Something hard pounded against his chest, knocking the breath from him, sending him back a few steps. A jolt of electricity at his neck accompanied by another jab with the stick and Silas stumbled, losing his vision for a moment. Someone caught him before he hit the ground, or some ones as he felt more than one set of hands on him.

“That was too easy,” came the captain’s voice. Silas looked up, his vision blurred. “Find the breeder. We lost her signal not five minutes ago.”

Lost her signal? That could only happen when there was no heartbeat. He made a sound but seemed to have lost all control over his muscles because even raising his arm was a feat. He managed to grab one of the guards but the other only kicked him hard in the ribs. That combined with the electricity zap almost knocked him unconscious. He opened his eyes, or tried to, but everything was spinning.

“Don’t knock him out, I want him awake for this. Now bring me the fucking breeder,” Captain Amro ordered.



* * *



Rowan squeezed her wrist, blood poured from it even as she had tried not to cut the artery. It had been impossible though. It was the only way to get the tracking device out. They knew what they were doing, why they implanted it where they did. That was how it worked, how they knew when a heart stopped beating.

She tore a piece from her dress and wrapped it around her wrist, hoping to at least slow the bleeding until she could get to Silas. What she was going to do she had no idea, but she just needed to get to him, to help him. She was losing so much blood though. She hadn’t realized it would go so quickly.

Soldiers ran past her hiding place and once they were gone, she padded down the hall to where she could hear Captain Amro speak. But it wasn’t only him she heard. Commander Norrin’s voice came too, it was weakened, but still, even in that state, she feared it. But Captain Amro—his was shrill, almost wild. Had he come undone?

“Show me my boy,” Silas said.

He too sounded weaker and she could hear the effort it took for him to speak.

“In time, savage. First, you can bear witness to the death of a great ruler,” Captain Amro said.

There was a struggle, men fighting again. Rowan reached the corner and took tentative steps to the door where the sound was coming from. It was now or never. She leaned her head as far as she had to and peeked in to find Silas held by two men, his body slumping a little. They’d done something to him, she just didn’t know what or how long it would last. Across from him stood Commander Norrin bound to the bars of the cell. Next to him stood two guards, one of whom was Commander Norrin’s personal guard. Were they all working for Captain Amro now?

“I know it’s primitive,” Captain Amro said, brandishing a long, sharp dagger, the blade of which doubled what Rowan held in her hand. “But I thought for you, our brave, fearless leader…” He walked closer to Commander Norrin and held the blade to his neck. “Perhaps a slow death is best,” he said, a calculated move causing Commander Norrin to flinch as Captain Amro nicked his shoulder, tearing his uniform, making blood pour down the front of it. “A death of a thousand cuts: now it has been a while since we’ve seen one so severe. Too bad it won’t be a public execution.”

“Because the people will not stand for it. They will kill you.”

“They will fear me. They already do,” he said with another slice of the knife. Silas tugged and she turned to him, his eyes met hers in that instant and he shook his head, warning her to run. She turned back to the others though, readied her knife and, before she lost too much blood to be of any use, she rushed into the room and buried the dagger to the hilt in the captain’s back.

He fell forward, driving the knife he held into one of the soldiers holding Norrin in place. The soldier’s eyes widened as he held Captain Amro’s slumped body before they both fell to their knees. Rowan joined him there, her own loss of blood too great.

“I’m sorry,” she said, turning to Silas, squeezing her wrist where the white cloth was drenched in thick red that dripped over her hand and onto the floor.

“Rowan!” Silas tore himself free of the men who held him, and with a strength fueled by desperation, hurled the two into the opposite wall before attacking Norrin with a violent roar to match that of a wild animal.

Rowan was fading, her vision blurred now, but before she fell, Silas knelt beside her and caught her face in his hands as she slumped forward into his chest. “Rowan.” This one was a whisper. He turned her face up to his and though her vision was blurred, she looked at him for what she was sure would be the last time. There was a scream then and she thought it might have been Silas but her own eyes closed and her body went limp. She never even felt herself hit the cold, bloodied floor.