Ruined (Ruined, #1)(32)

“Stop!” Cas yelled. The hunter jumped away, almost losing hold of the dagger. “He’s had enough.”

Every guard focused on something behind him, and Cas glanced over his shoulder to see his father atop his horse, watching him.

“You want him alive, correct?” Cas asked.

“I do, for now. You can handle his transport to the cell with the guards, since you’re confident he’s weak enough.”

“I’d be happy to,” Cas said. His father gave Cas a look that wasn’t exactly disapproval, but maybe wasn’t supportive either. He turned his horse toward the castle. Three guards followed him.

“How did you transport him to Lera?” Cas asked the nearest hunter.

“Wagon,” the hunter said, pointing into the darkness. “It’s not far that way.”

“Put him in it and bring him to the castle. I assume he’s going to the cells on the south lawn?” He doubted his father would let any Ruined step one foot inside the castle.

A guard nodded. “Those are our orders.”

“I’ll meet you there.” Cas mounted his horse, and Galo and a few other guards rode with him back to the castle grounds. He left his horse at the gate and walked in the dark to the south lawn. Outdoor and sporting events were often held there, but there was a small underground prison at the far end of the property. It was used to house the more dangerous prisoners, the ones they didn’t want sleeping beneath the castle.

The hunters brought the wagon straight onto the south lawn, and one of them had to practically hold the Ruined up as they pulled him out.

Galo grabbed the handle of the door in the ground and opened it. He hopped in first, and Cas followed him down the stairway into the underground cells. It was pitch-black, but the narrow space filled with light as Galo lit the first lantern.

There were five cells in a row to Cas’s left, every one of them empty. A walkway ran between the cells and the wall, and two chairs sat at either end of the room, for the guards.

Several guards descended the stairs, and Cas moved to the far end of the area as the hunters dragged the Ruined down the steps. They thrust him into the first cell, not even the slightest bit gently. He hit the ground on his hands and knees, and Cas studied his dirty left hand, missing its pinkie finger.

“Can someone please bring something to clean his wound?” Cas asked. “And bandages?”

A hunter gave him a confused look.

“I don’t know how long my father wants him alive,” Cas said. “Do you want him to die of an infection?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” a guard said, turning away.

“You can go,” Cas said to the four hunters crowding around the cell. “Thank you.”

They disappeared up the stairs, leaving just Galo and three other guards. Cas stepped to the open door of the cell, leaning against it.

“Perhaps we should close the door, Your Highness,” a guard said.

“After his wound is cleaned.” He held out his hand. “May I have a sword, though?”

A guard withdrew his blade from his belt and offered it to Cas. He took it and turned back to the Ruined. The Ruined straightened, scooting back to lean against the end of the small bed in the corner. One of his eyes was starting to swell shut, and he lifted his head to meet Cas’s gaze.

“What’s your name?” Cas asked.

The Ruined didn’t reply.

“I’m Casimir. Prince of Lera.” He waited for the Ruined to offer his name, but he remained silent. “How old are you?”

“A hundred and two.” The Ruined smirked. “I’ve learned how to live forever and keep my good looks.”

“Really?” Cas asked, feigning surprise. “My father would love to talk to you about that.”

A snort came from one of the guards behind him, and the Ruined stared at Cas as if he wasn’t sure if that was a joke.

“A name?” Cas asked again. “Just a first name, so I know what to call you.”

“You can call me Ruined,” he said, leaning his head against the bed. “I’m not ashamed of it.”

Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and the guard who’d left reappeared with a bucket of water, a clean cloth, bandages, and a small silver tin. The guard hesitated, like he didn’t want to enter the cell, and Galo held his hands out for the items.

“I’ll do it.” He grabbed everything from the guard and walked past Cas into the cell, placing the bucket and tin on the ground. He dipped the cloth in the water. “Hold out your hand.”

The Ruined hesitated, peering at his bloodied fingers.

“It’s going to hurt, but I’m not going to make it worse on purpose,” Galo said.

The Ruined slowly put his hand out in front of him. He winced as Galo began wiping it down.

“This is berol root,” Galo said as he scooped some of the black paste out of the tin with the cloth. “It will help the wound close without getting infected.” He gently applied it over the stump where the Ruined’s pinkie finger used to be.

“We wouldn’t want me getting an infection before you kill me,” the Ruined said through clenched teeth.

“If you tell my father what he needs to know, maybe we can come up with a way to spare your life,” Cas said.

The Ruined let out a hollow laugh. “Like keeping me prisoner for the rest of my life? No thank you.”