When Prince Samuel finally reached him, he was greeted with the most awful sight of Daniel bound to a boulder with iron chains clamped around his hands. His arms were forcibly stretched out above his head, the strained muscles on his chest on full display due to his lack of clothing. And perched atop his ribs was an eagle, its talons digging so deep into his flesh that they seemed to coil around the bones of his ribs. Its head was bowed, its beak violently tearing into the skin right beneath Daniel’s right pectoral. A sickening amount of blood spilled out from Daniel, some of it even dried on his sweat-slicked sinews.
His face was screwed up in unbearable pain, his teeth gritted against the agony of having his liver scavenged from beneath his still beating heart. Each movement of the eagle made the man cry out in pure arduous torment. Tears even flowed down the sides of his face.
Samuel’s knees buckled beneath him. He crashed into the cold stone of the ground, horror freezing him in place. There was nothing he could attempt in order to save Daniel. He had been sentenced to this torture under divine order. There was simply no escaping your fate once the Gods had condemned you.
Knowing that he had limited options, Samuel went with the only one he knew to be possible. He crawled along the floor of the cave, reaching out for his best friend. When he reached Daniel, the royal simply smoothed the curls on the crown of his head. The tortured man’s sobs became stronger as he experienced his first comfort in Gods knew how long, leaning his head into the touch of Sam’s caress that traveled down to his cheek.
Samuel felt a tear of his own trickle down his cheek as he pressed his forehead into Daniel’s. “I am so sorry.”
“Sammy!”
The prince jolted awake at the calling of his name. Blearily, he rubbed at his eyes before searching around to check that he was not still trapped in that awful nightmare. Instead of the oppressive darkness of that cursed cave, he was greeted by the warm embrace of the late afternoon sun. With a sigh of relief, all of his fear seeped out of his bones in his exhale. He glanced upwards, Daniel gazing down at him with a look of carefully masked concern on his face.
“What is it?” The prince’s voice sounded as though he had swallowed sand. He lifted one of his hands to his forehead, rubbing at his temples that were beginning to throb.
“Were you having a nightmare?” Daniel inquired, his brown knitting as he closely examined his companion.
Yes
“No. You needn’t worry,” Sam quickly reassured, waving his hand in a dismissal of his best friend’s concern.
Samuel watched as the ward regarded him. He was aware Daniel knew he was lying, it was now simply a matter of whether or not he would call Sam out on this.
After shaking his head, the ward came to his decision.
“Pythius just came by to offer up the news. Jacob has returned to the palace.”
Samuel, still reeling from his nightmare, forced himself to react with the same enthusiasm he had emanated for the past week in regards to his brother. Cosmetically, he knew he had managed to muster the appropriate response; his lips parting into a blinging smile as he shot up from his position, forcing his skin to buzz with excitement. But, just beneath was a darkness that was sapping away his true elation and replacing it with an encompassing sense of dread.
He had dreamt of Daniel as Prometheus, the Gods ultimate scapegoat. And as he bounded off towards the marble structure he had called home for the past eighteen years, he could not rid himself of the sinking feeling deep within his stomach that his nightmare mirrored that of his prophetic dreams.
Even Sinners Drink the Wine, a prologue of Too Pretty For War, coming soon...
