The China Bride - Bride Trilogy 02 by Mary Jo Putney

Author:Mary Jo Putney
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2011-11-25T23:54:57+00:00

Chapter 25

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Kyle watched as a sliver of light from the high window moved slowly across the walls, like the sands of an hourglass marking out the minutes of his life.

Morning had brought no inspiration. His sentence couldn't be appealed even if he spoke the language, not when the highest-ranking official in the region wanted him dead.

Nor could he escape his dungeon. The window was too narrow to allow a well-fed rat to escape. The cell contained damp straw and four rings welded into the stones with short chains dangling from them, but nothing else.

Hoping for a weapon, he'd examined the chains, and concluded that removing them from the rings would be impossible without tools and time.

Even if he managed to overpower the guards with his bare hands the next time they brought him a small portion of rice and weak tea, he'd never make it out of the compound. No, his time had run out, and it was his own damned fault.

The loose Chinese garments made it easy to sit cross-legged like a Buddhist monk on the damp straw. Mentally detaching himself from his bruises and lacerations, he reached for the inner peace he'd found at Hoshan. Mysterious were the ways of the divine. Was that why he'd been so intensely drawn to the painting of the temple, because he had a date with his own death in China?

No, he was too much a European to believe in that kind of destiny. His luck had simply run out. He'd faced danger often in his travels, and several times had survived against long odds, but no man's luck held forever.

His idle gaze fixed on a rivulet of water flowing down the side wall, one of several caused by heavy rain during the night. The moisture seeped from between the stones and trickled away down a small drain, the cell's feeble attempt at sanitation. This place was an invitation to a slow, painful death from fever or ague. At least he wouldn't be here long enough to have that to worry about.

Should he have stayed home, like a good heir? He'd have probably lived another forty years if he had.

No, that narrow, dutiful life had been driving him to desperation. He couldn't regret following his dreams, though it was a pity about the lost forty years…

The door squealed open and the sergeant entered, sword at the ready and followed by two burly guards. As the sergeant muttered what sounded like filthy insults, his men dragged Kyle to his feet and removed the chain connecting his manacles, leaving the heavy iron cuffs around his wrists.

Maybe he was being taken out for another audience with the prefect?

Instead, the guards slammed him against the wall and attached his cuffs to the rusting chains that hung from the rings welded into the wall. Kyle swore and tried to fight them, but the guards were adept. A gut-punch to slow him down, then a swift snapping of locks so that he was spread-eagled against the wall.

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