Chapter 228

The one who’d sworn his allegiance to the queen charged at Landon as the others gave a roar and moved forward as well. Landon overpowered him easily enough, knocking the sword from his hand and forcing him backward until he was nearly within reach of dozens of arms straining to lay their fingers on him. The guard held his hands up and waited as the others attempted to succeed where he had failed.

Eli took on two of the guards at the same time, but neither was a match for his sword. Within seconds, one was bleeding from his right arm, and the other had a large gash in his side. They, too, dropped their weapons easily enough.

One guard flew at Jate with his sword pointed at his gullet as another advanced from the other side. Jate blocked the quicker of the two but barely swung his weapon around in time to stop the second. Kit held her breath, wishing she’d taken the sword earlier after all so she could be of some help. Jate was kept busy with one man, then the other, but it only took a few moments for him to catch the first guard beneath his sword arm and then, while that guard stepped back to regroup, he disarmed the second man. The first thought better of coming at him again, and his sword clattered to the floor near his boots.

The final guard charged at Reeve with the initial signal, but after a few hasty exchanges where metal struck metal, his sword was knocked free of his hand by a decisive blow from the Representative, and he, too, was left backing toward the angry mob.

“What shall we do with them, Princess?” Landon asked, still pointing the tip of his weapon at the guard who’d started the fray.

Kit didn’t want anyone to be killed if it could be avoided. As much as these bastards deserved to be punished for their treatment of the prisoners, they were following orders. Most of them looked as if they hadn’t enough sense to realize what they were doing was wrong, not that the circumstances made the treatment acceptable. “Have we any more rope?”

“Not enough to bind all of them,” Landon answered, checking how much was left from the length he had stored in his cloak.

Looking around, Kit saw no other cells or closets to place them in. “Well, I suppose we could bring them into the cell with us.”

“In there?” The guard who spoke, the one bleeding from the arm, was trembling, his eyes as large as platters. “Please, Princess, anywhere else. They’ll rip us limb from limb.”

“If you plan to go in there,” the first guard, the one who’d begun the charge said, “they’ll tear you limb from limb as well.” Rather than showing fear, his eyes revealed nothing but glee at the idea of the princess and her assemblage walking into the cell.

“Let me worry about that,” Kit said, her voice conveying she was not frightened. The arms in front of her stretched even further, groping and reaching to lay even a finger on the guards.

“If we leave them, they could go back for assistance,” Reeve reminded her.

Kit nodded. She was aware. “Well, it seems we have no choice, then, but to take them with us.”

“No, please, Princess. I promise you, if you leave me in charge, I shall keep all of the others in line. There will be no need for you to take us. Also, the door at the top of the stairs is locked. You may take our key, and then we shall not be able to get out.” The speaker was the man who’d half-heartedly attempted to fight Eli, the gash in his side proving his inability to handle a sword.

“You could pound on the door and call for others.”

“No, please....”

“Use the chains!”

A deep voice emanated from somewhere within the cell. Kit couldn’t see the speaker at first because there were so many others between herself and the man, but eventually they parted, and an older man with a hunched back and a face so covered in grime she could hardly make out his features stood at the front of the cell. “There are lengths of chain over there they use to bind potential prisoners before they determine where they belong—in here or up a level. You could use those.”

The chains he was referring to were so covered in muck and rust, Kit hadn’t even seen them hanging from the wall. There were four sets of hand chains. With the rope that was left, that would work. Hastily, her men bound the guards, most of which were smart enough to keep their mouths closed, though the one who seemed to want to see the princess dispatched was making an unholy racket, screaming and carrying on. Kit hoped it didn’t bring any other guards to their rescue.

“We need to hurry before we are discovered,” Kit said as Eli finished fastening the last man to the wall.

“Yes, but we can’t just stroll in there, Kit. You’re going to have to do some pontificating.”

He was right, of course. The men in the cell were pressed to the front to watch what was happening, but they were still unruly. She could only imagine what was happening in the back. She could hear some of them shouting at her by every name she’d ever been called—Princess, Katrinetta, Kit, Your Majesty—but she couldn’t recognize the voices and had yet to catch a glimpse of Cassius. It was possible they were asking her for help, or maybe they wanted a piece of her as the snarling guard had indicated.

“You, sir, what is your name?” She stepped up in front of the man who had pointed out the chains.

“My name is Jef,” he replied. “But I’m hardly a sir to you, Princess.”

“Not so,” Kit said quickly. “You have been most helpful. Tell me, who must I speak to inside of your cell in order to have safe passage?”

Jef chuckled. “’Fraid that’s not possible, Princess. Anyone steps foot in here’s bound to be damaged.”

The idea that Cassius was on the other side of those iron bars made her queasy. “What if I told you I have the key, and we intend to unlock the door that leads to the chute so that you may all go free. Will they give me passage then?”

The sunken brown eyes looking back at her widened. “Is that true?”

“Yes. It is my opinion that you have all served your time. Most of you were likely innocent to begin with. The revolution is upon us, Jef, and I intend to change things for the better here in Yewforia, starting with you, today.”

While Jef seemed thrilled at the prospect, a younger man next to him, muscular with wild brown hair said, “And what then? They round us up and bring us back here? Or worse, the chopping block?”

“Even if we were free, where would we go? Most of us have no homes, no jobs!” another man shouted.

“All of that will be changed!” Kit stepped up on tiptoe to attempt to see over their heads. “We have friends who will meet us down by the river with food and clothing, medicine for the sick. If you will let us through, we will make sure you are tended to, and anyone who will swear allegiance to me as their sovereign can be assured of employment and a livable wage once I am queen.”

At that, many of the men standing closely enough to hear gave a little cheer. Nods of agreement and glances around at the others nearby had Kit’s confidence rising until another voice cut through the crowd.

A middle-aged man with a grizzled face shouted, “Why should we believe you’re capable of overthrowing Queen Rona, the Demon Queen? Think on it, men. Would you leave here only to be recaptured or slaughtered in battle?”

“Wouldn’t it be better to leave here and try?” another voice shouted from somewhere Kit could not see.

“I’d gladly give my life in pursuit of this cause!” shouted another.

More men spoke up, and as Kit listened, trying to gauge when to interject, the crowd began to part. It took a moment for Kit to see why, but as a large form made his way to the cell bars, her eyes traced up to a familiar exposed chest, though covered in filth, to a face that left her gasping for air. “We will gladly fight for you, Princess Katrinetta.”

Kit’s hands flew to her mouth, and she staggered backward into Eli’s open arms, glad he was there to catch her and remind her to breathe. She pulled in a few deep draws of air as tears sprang to her eyes and she fought to stabilize herself on her feet.

Once her composure had begun to return, Kit took a few steps forward, careful of the other potential threatening arms, but everyone else had backed away as he stood there, behind the gate, a hand extended.

Kit took it, not caring what substance might be on it. She reached through the bars and gently touched his face. His hair was much longer, his beard a mess, and he was wearing nothing more than rags, but she would know him anywhere. “I thought you were gone for good.”

“I’ve been here, all along.”

Anger and resentment welled up inside of her as Kit thought about all that he’d been through. If she’d only known, perhaps she could’ve freed him years ago. “I’ve thought of you every day, Terrowin.”

“And I’ve thought of you as well, Katrinetta. I’ve prayed to the goddesses to let me see your face once more, even if it was on my deathbed, and now, here you are. And I will not let you down. We will fight for you. We will make you queen.” A roar went up from the others, starting in the front and rippling back through the crowd, and Kit was certain, when she stepped through those bars, she would have nothing to fear from these prisoners she would resuscitate as men.