Redemption, M J Marlow [best way to read ebooks TXT] 📗

is a very private person. No one knows what he is thinking or planning. Why?”
“I have a very uncomfortable feeling,” Marit told him bluntly, “that he is drawing our castle steward into a plot against my father.” She looked up at him. “Is that something he would do?”
“If it meant he got his way?” Lorenz asked, frowning as she nodded. He nodded in return. “Yes.” He got to his feet, kissing Celia’s hand and bowing to Marit. “I will speak to His Majesty at once.”
Marit watched him go and put her mind to the other man; pondering over what she knew of Alexander. She had never known a stranger person. He had the ability to take negatives and turn them to his advantage. And this was a man her father had thought would make a suitable husband for her? He had frightened her from the very moment she had fallen into his hands. And she still remembered how her body had responded to his first look, his first touch; as if she were meant only for him. Why did he want her so badly?
“Your father is king of the borderlands, Princess,” Sysha replied when Marit posed the question to her. “Any man who marries you will be his heir through marriage, and lord over those who have given allegiance to king Marius.”
“I don’t want to be just a tool, Sysha,” Marit sighed as she moved towards the bathing pool to prepare for the evening meal. “Surely there is one man out there who will want me because I am myself, and not my father’s daughter?” She looked down at her arm through the sheer white of her shift where only a tiny scar remained as evidence of her cousin’s attack and sighed. “I had thought that would be Justin.” She was in tears as she slipped into the water. “What kind of man would break a promise because of a bite?”
“One who is not worthy of you, my lady,” Naji spoke up as she washed Marit’s long, thick hair. She saw Sysha’s look of censure. “Am I wrong, Sysha? Our princess is a woman without peer. To judge her deficient because of…”
“Naji!” Sysha broke in. “Go see to the princess’ gowns.”
Naji moved off and Marit was even more confused. She had been about to tell Marit something very important. Why had Sysha silenced her? Was it really so bad then to have the abilities that Tavin’s attack had unlocked inside of her? Marit could not understand why that should be so. She moved through dressing obliviously, her mind spinning with questions that none of her ladies would answer. Only her father would speak of this with her, she realized. She reddened with shame as she remembered how she had left him. She had been wrong to strike him; especially in front of Alexander. She stepped out of her chambers and smiled as her guard of four joined her and her ladies. Edmund, as senior, offered his arm to her.
“Father,” Marit said to Marius once she had a chance. “I must apologize for my actions earlier. It was wrong.”
“No child,” Marius replied, as he raised her hand to his lips, “you were not wrong to be angry with me. I should not have kept it from you.” He looked down the table where Alexander was seated. “His father was a good and honorable man once,” he said as if to himself, “but he grew far too greedy. His son…’
“I don’t trust him, Father,” Marit broke in. She saw her father looking towards Barnabas with a cold look on his face. “You didn’t need my warning about lord Atherton, did you?”
“It was appreciated none-the-less, child,” Marius replied. “I am beginning to realize just how much like your mother you are. She would not allow herself to be sold off like a piece of property either. So,” he said, as if deciding something, “I will not force you to marry anyone you do not wish to marry. If Northfell wishes to form alliance with us, his son will join the other suitors in offering for you. And you,” he smiled down at her fondly, “shall be allowed to make your own choice.” His eyes were dancing at the thought of seeing his own daughter with young men buzzing around her. The way her eyes light up at the thought of having a free choice reminded him quite pointedly of his lost wife. “As it should have been.”
Marit’s smile of gratitude lit up her eyes and he was struck again at how much like Margarete their child was. He lost himself in memory for a while, reliving the days when he and his late wife had been together. How joyful they had been to learn that they were going to have a child. How terrified they had become when their child had been born a girl and Margarete’s family laid claim to their infant daughter. Had they been wrong to hide her as they had? Seeing her now, while she spoke to the lord Edmund at her side, her face lit with joy, he was more certain than ever that they had done the right thing. Marit should never be forced. He turned his mind to other matters.
“Lord Kedys,” Marius called to his steward. The man came to his side and bowed. “I would like you to taste my wine. It tastes strange to me.” When Kedys froze, Marius brought out his dagger and pressed it to the man’s private regions. “Or just tell me what is in it,” he continued; “poison or sedative?”
“Poison,” Kedys stammered, his eyes wild with terror. “Just a mild dose,” he choked as the knife pressed down, “to make you and your men ill so that lord Atherton’s men could take the castle.” His eyes suddenly went cold. “Look to your daughter, sire,”
Marius turned and Kedys drove his dagger towards Marius’ back. Marit screamed and pushed her father aside; the dagger plunging into her arm. She slipped towards the ground, as her father sent someone running for the healers. He had been so distracted by the attack that he had not noticed Barnabas’s men moving in to surround the hall. Marius glared at the man as the healers moved in and he rose to face his attacker.
“You dare!”
“I told you, my lord king,” Barnabas said coldly. “You stand in the way of what I want; what my lord Emperor wants…”
“He will destroy the borderlands in his march south, lord Atherton!” Marius snarled. He did not fight as his wrists were bound behind his back. “You will pay for this treachery.”
“I fail to see how,” Barnabas laughed. “I have your castle. I have you, and,” he continued as he watched the healers help Marit to her throne and saw her recovering, “I have my future bride.”
“You would take what I have chosen for my own?” Alexander lunged at him then and was struck down.
“I will rule the borderlands now, my lord Emperor, as your staunchest ally. You don’t need this marriage.” He met Marit’s cold eyes and was delighted. “Rouse the priest from his bed and bring him here at once.” He nodded to one of his men. “The princess wishes to marry me while her father is still alive.”
“I will not,” Marit shook her head. She saw his men stepping closer and knew they intended to do damage to the others in the hall. “I would dishonor my people if I married you, lord.”
“What they want, Princess,” Barnabas snarled as he yanked her to her feet and held her wrists in his hands, “is about as important to me as what you want.” He nodded towards the priest, who was pulling his cassock around him, flustered. “The first person who dies will be the little priest.” He grabbed her braids in his hand and drew her down to her knees at his side. “We will be married, Priest. Now!”
“No!”
Marit shoved Barnabas aside and ran. She didn’t know where she was going. It was only a matter of time before they caught her. But she was not going to let anyone force her into marriage, or any other act, she did not want. She was through the courtyard and out the gates before she remembered that Barnabas’ army was stationed on the other side of the river. She saw that her escape had not been noted and headed towards the forests. She was grabbed as she entered the forests and taken to a camp on the other side of the pass. Marit recognized the man who rose from a seat inside the pavilion.
“The little animal that calls herself a princess,” Jozef sneered as he grabbed her wrists and bound them. He shoved her to his man. “Cage her.”
“Your Majesty, what…”
“Speak to me again, animal,” Jozef told Marit harshly, as he backhanded her, “and I will have your tongue removed.” He nodded to his men. “You have your orders.”
Marit was taken to their camp and shoved inside a cage in the main pavilion. She watched the men leave, her anger mounting. How dare they treat her like this! She was no animal! She was her father’s child. Jozef came into the pavilion with his commanders and they gathered around a table and began to plan their assault. Then he had an idea. He took a whip off of a stake in the center pole and unfurled it.
“Bring her out and fasten her to the pole,” he told his aide. “We’ll have answers from the little beast.”
Marit was dragged out of the cage and her wrists put into shackles joined by a thick iron chain. The chain was hung on the stake and her arms were pulled up over her head. The men ripped open the backs of her gowns and stepped aside. Jozef snapped the whip alongside her head. Marit could feel the air stirred, hear the whistle as it missed her skin by the slightest measure. He was actually going to hurt her! The father of the prince who she had given her heart to was going to whip her.
“You and your escort got into the castle without rousing Atherton’s army, beast,” Jozef said coldly. “Tell us how.” When Marit did not answer, he struck her with the lash and she winced in pain. “It does no good to keep silent, animal,” he said coldly. “I will not stop until you give me the information I am seeking.”
“I will not betray my father!” Marit shot back, steeling herself. She had been whipped before; how much worse could it be now. “Not to a monster like you!”
“You call me monster?” Jozef hissed. He raised her eyes to his by the butt of the whip. “You?” He whipped her for at least a minute before he stopped. Why wasn’t she screaming? She was just a child; she should be screaming for him to stop. But he could see from her expression that she was not going to break. “Bring the salt,” he said to one of the men. “Let us see how strong the animal remains once that has been applied.” The man handed him a jar and Jozef poured salt into his hand and blew it onto Marit’s back. She began to whimper as fire ran along the whip marks. “The pain will stop as soon as you tell me what I need to know.”
“She’s strong, sire,” his aide said five minutes later when Marit passed out, still not giving them anything.
“The animal in her,” Jozef replied coldly. “Take her to Northfell and lock her in the chapel,” he told his men. He looked at Marit as if he were looking at a piece of trash. “Let us see if the trackers have learned anything.”
Marit heard