“No. We were kept in separate tents. Artemisia keeps me gagged most of the time.”
Fury licked its way through me, igniting every cell in my body ... I didn’t care about all the recent resolutions I had made to be better. To do better.
I was going to gut Artemisia and watch her die slowly.
And I was going to enjoy it.
And then I would kill every other Carian I came across. Because this was long-term damage that had been done to my brother. Somebody else had been torturing him long before she had rejoined her people.
“Why didn’t they kill you?” I was almost through the rope. Just a bit further.
“Because I’m Aianteioi. Not even the Carians would risk crossing that rule.”
I had never been so grateful for the laws that governed how Ajax the Lesser’s descendants were to be treated. “They’re supposed to have ransomed you, not kept you locked up.”
“Their king said that the law didn’t specify when the ransom demand must be made,” he said.
“So they were planning to just keep you as their prisoner forever?”
“No,” he said with a shake of his head, which I could tell took effort. “I don’t know what their original plan was, but Artemisia got their king to hand me over to her. She told me that she is going to use me in negotiations with our father. That if he will surrender Locris, he could have me back.”
Our father would have done it without hesitation.
She had intended for Locris to be the ransom paid for Haemon’s release.
And then without any kind of defense mounted, the Carians would have been free to slay every Locrian they came across. Just as Artemisia planned to do in Ilion.
She was so convinced her plan would work that she intended to do it twice.
I finally cut through the rope and pulled it free from his legs. He had so many sores and bruises. It made me angry all over again.
“The key is up there,” he said, nodding toward a tentpole. “Artemisia liked keeping it just out of my reach.”
I grabbed the key and used it to open the chains on his wrists.
“It was unnecessary for her to lock me up. I’m too weak to escape.”
“Was she poisoning you?” I needed to know so that I could have Io take care of him.
“No. She didn’t need to. Just constant deprivation.”
I refused to let myself dwell on my anger. I needed to keep my wits about me so that we could escape. Calm. Rational.
When I had initially made my plan, I had assumed that there would be guards at Artemisia’s tent. I planned to get past them by saying I had a delivery, making my way inside, freeing Xander, and then the two of us would take out the guards.
I’d planned for Xander to wear one of the guards’ uniform and armor.
But there were no guards nearby, and even if I found one, I couldn’t imagine that anything would stay on my brother. The armor would all slip off.
I helped him to his feet. He felt hollow, fragile. Like I wouldn’t even need to call on my aspect if I had to carry him. He swayed to the side when he stood.
“Come on,” I said, putting his arm around my shoulder. I would have to help him walk.
We went out into the rain and Haemon started to shiver. I felt terrible—he was suffering because of my plan, but there was nothing that I could do. I had to get him away from here.
When we rejoined the others, I wouldn’t be able to let him warm up or rest. We would have to move out immediately because, at some point, the Carians would realize that both Xander and Haemon had escaped and they would come looking for them.
With all the potential scenarios I had gone through with my adelphia, none of them had included finding my brother.
