Ivar's Escape (Assassins of Gravas #2) - N.J. Walters

Chapter One

Darkness pressed down on him, squeezing his lungs, suffocating him. And what air he managed to suck back was fetid and damp, sticking to his lungs and making it more difficult, not easier to breathe.

But even in the dark, there were shadows and voices. Angry voices.

He tried to move but his arms and legs were weighed down, making it impossible. Sweat beaded on his brow and dripped down his forehead as he tried to force his limbs into obedience.

Giving up was not in his DNA.

Muscles bunched and burned. The voices were getting closer.

The urge to stand his ground, to fight was almost overwhelming.

He couldn’t even lift a finger. How could he fight?

Heart pounding in his chest, he gritted his teeth to make another attempt. He wanted to roar his frustration, but remained silent. It was important not to let them know where he was.

They were almost here…

His eyes flew open as the nightmare released him from its icy grip. Lungs pumping, he gulped in air, which was little better than that of his dream.

He closed his eyes and swore under his breath.

Dream or not, one thing was true. Footsteps were coming closer. He stilled, letting his body go lax.

A loud banging on the steel bars to his cell. “Hey there. Get up. Time to feed you. Although I don’t know why they bother,” the jailer muttered. “Waste of resources, if you ask me.”

He pushed himself upright, every muscle in his body screaming from his last beating. The prisoner knew from past experience if he didn’t do so, his food would be dumped on the floor. And that was only if the jailer was in a good mood. If his mood was foul, he’d take the food away and feed it to the vicious hounds that guarded the place.

“So glad you managed to stir yourself from your nap. Some of us have to work, you know. I don’t have time to be waiting on the likes of you.” The guard shoved the plate through a longer slit at the bottom of the door. A slender wooden cup was shoved between two of the upright bars, some of the precious water sloshing onto the floor.

The guard stared at him and shook his head. The prisoner cataloged every detail from the pocked face, to the shaggy black hair and beard, to the cold blue eyes, full lips, and florid skin. Every day, he fantasized a dozen ways to kill the man.

It helped keep his spirits up.

“Too stupid to talk. You’ll rot in here if you don’t tell Balthazar what he wants to know.” He gave a deep sigh. “Won’t be long until I’m dragging your lifeless body out of here and washing the cell down for the next poor bugger.”

The guard shambled away, taking the light from the lantern with him. The prisoner stayed where he was until the outer door clanged shut.

Once he was alone, he moved toward the food. If he didn’t act fast, the rodents would smell it, come out, and grab it before he could.

Plate and cup in hand, he scooted on his ass to the corner and put his back to the wall. Today’s fare was thin broth ladled over a few limp vegetables of some kind and a mystery meat. But it was warm and it was sustenance.

All he had to do was stay alive. They’d come for him.

He tilted his head back and stared unseeing at the stone ceiling of his cell. Who was coming? Why was he so certain they would?

Putting aside that problem for now, he ate. His only utensils were his fingers, but they were effective. When he was done, he licked the plate clean. His stomach growled, protesting that the food was already gone. There would be no more for another day. And that was only if he was lucky.

He wanted to savor the water but drank it as fast as he dared. Holding on to anything wasn’t safe. There was no telling when his interrogators would be back.

Meal consumed, he picked up a sharp stone, a piece that had crumbled from the surrounding cell, and carved a mark into the wall. There were so many of them there. He marked the time by his meals as he had no window, no way to judge the passing of night and day.

It was always dark here.

Despair washed over him, a wave threatening to take him under until he drowned.

It would be so easy to give up.

Even as he thought it, every cell in