Chapter 17 - Another Captive Taken

Remmaline sat in the corner of her room and wept. She cried and cried until she thought she would run out of tears. And when she ran out, she paused and walked around the room and looked out the window. And as she stared outside--looking at the great mountains and dense forests off to the east--she grew even more hopeless, and she cried some more. Then she would walk over to the door and try to open it again, only to see that it was still locked. And then the tears would continue to flow. And as they did, a miserable grumpy man across the room with a bag of coins at his feet would yell at her and tell her to be quiet. She wasn’t afraid of the man, since his legs were in chains, but she was miserable--utterly miserable. Only the hardest of hearts could look at this girl and not be moved to great pity. Poor Remmaline!

Where was she? And how did she get here?

To answer those questions, we have to go back in time, back to when we first met Remmaline. She was in her brothers’ room, frantically getting ready for her sister Julianna’s birthday party. If you recall, she had locked her brothers out of the room so that she could use their large room to get dressed. She figured that her brothers were slobs (compared to her, anyway), and so it made much more sense to mess their room up instead of her own.

So while her brothers were waiting for her to get dressed (which was not something that happened particularly quickly), 13-year-old Remmaline worked on her hair. She had beautiful, long golden hair; her daddy always told her it was hair fit for a princess. Her hair was her pride and joy. She loved to play with it, though most of all she loved to have her mama play with it. Sometimes she liked to put it up, and sometimes she liked to braid it, and sometimes she just liked to have it dangle down all around her. As she stared at the mirror, she honestly couldn’t decide what to do with it. The time was approaching for the party to start, but in her own mind, time stood still. What should she do with her hair?

As she thought about that, she danced across the room and grabbed her beautiful blue-and-white dress. Her daddy said he liked that one best, so she figured she’d wear it today. She threw her other clothes on the floor and then gingerly put on the dress. If this had been her room, of course, she’d have neatly folded her clothes and placed them carefully in her bed. But that was what was so fun about getting dressed in her brothers’ room. She could be messy, and they’d have to clean it up! Oh, they’d be grumpy of course, but old Mitch would growl right back at them and tell them to get cleaning.

After donning the dress, Remma pranced back across the room and back into the boys’ bathroom. She stared at the mirror again. Which hairdo would go best with this dress? she asked herself. Then she just started to dance. She sang a tune and danced away, staring at herself all the while. She figured she’d be much better able to make a decision after she’d danced for a few minutes. She could see how her hair behaved as she moved and then figure out which one to choose.

As she twirled around with her imaginary dance partner, she thought she heard the bedroom door open. That was strange--she knew the boys didn’t have a key. Who could it be? Did the boys manage to find a key from somewhere? Oh well, it didn’t matter; she still had to get ready, and the boys couldn’t throw her out of the room now. They’d be too busy getting themselves ready to bother with her.

As Remma continued to ponder her hair, she was suddenly started as someone grabbed her from behind. In an instant, the person wrapped a blindfold tightly around her eyes, enveloping her in darkness. She started to scream, but the person quickly put a hand over her mouth. A man’s voice whispered into her ear: “If you make one more noise, it will be your last, kid. Do you understand?” Remmaline shook her head in terror. The man then dragged her out of the bathroom and rolled her under something--she figured it was probably Cable’s bed. Her head banged into the bedpost. It hurt terribly, and she started to cry out in pain. But again a hand roughly grabbed her face over her mouth. The whispered voice said once again, “Not a sound, kiddo!” Then she heard the man back away from the bed.

At this point, Remmaline was terrified. Her life in the castle had been so peaceful for her entire life. How could anyone want to harm her? Oh, her boys would tease her and torment her sometimes, but she knew that this couldn’t be one of their practical jokes. They would never be this rough. No, this man really wanted to hurt her. She was scared.

Though she couldn’t see, she could still hear what was going on, and her ears were straining to hear what happened next. After a few moments, she heard the door burst open, and then she heard someone tumble onto the floor. She grimaced--it sounded like someone’s face must have landed right onto the stone floor. She hoped that whoever it was at least managed to land on a rug. When she heard no cry or expression of pain, she figured it had to be Andres. It would take a lot more than a face-plant on solid rock to get the best of him.

Her guess was confirmed when she heard footsteps heading toward the back of the room, where a window faced the back side of the castle. Yes, those were Andres’ footsteps. She would recognize them anywhere. And then she heard his voice say, “Cable, are you here yet?” She knew that Andres hated to go places--even his own bedroom--all alone. She hoped that Cable wasn’t far behind!

Then, as she continued to listen, she heard more scuffling. The man that had grabbed her must now be grabbing Andres! She wanted to scream, but she didn’t dare to do a thing. And she knew Andres wouldn’t scream. He was a silent fighter. The only time he would scream was if he was being tickled. And he most definitely wasn’t being tickled right now.

Remmaline feared the worst when the scuffling quickly ended. She didn’t know what had happened, but she figured it couldn’t be good. She wondered if maybe that cruel man had tossed Andres out the window. As she continued to listen, she heard more footsteps, and they definitely didn’t belong to Andres. It seemed as though someone was picking stuff up around the room. The man that had blindfolded her must be cleaning up the mess that she’d left. That didn’t make sense to her. Since when did meanies decide to be cleanies? she asked herself. Somehow, in the midst of this present tragedy, she managed to laugh at her own silly little rhyme.

Moments later, she heard footsteps leave the room, with the door gently closing behind. She didn’t know what to do. Should she get up and run? Or should she stay still and hope to be rescued? She didn’t know what to do! Before she could decide to move or stay, she was frozen again in place as she heard more footsteps approach. These footsteps were very slow and deliberate. It must be Cable! He was never in a hurry. And if something like a big party was coming up and he really needed to rush--well, those were the times when he really didn’t hurry.

Remma heard the door open, and a voice softly called out, “Andres, are you in here?” Yes, it was Cable’s voice. Oh, how she wanted to yell out! But she just couldn’t muster up the courage to say a word. What if that horrible man was somehow around the corner? He said that her next noise would be her last! Oh, what was a little girl to do?

As Remma continued to listen, she heard more rustling around the room. For the first time in her life, she sensed that Cable really was in a hurry. She heard him grab some things from a closet. Then she heard him reach underneath the bed--for some reason, he seemed to be fumbling around the bedpost. What could he be doing? She wanted to yell out his name, but she just didn’t dare to!

A few moments later, there was silence again. It was like Cable had just disappeared. She hadn’t heard him walk out of the room, so what had he done? Had he climbed out the window? Or had someone snuck up on him and tossed him out the window? She just didn’t know. However, one thing she did know--her one chance of escape had just gone. “Why didn’t I say anything?” Remmaline asked herself. And then she began to cry, and her tears soaked through her blindfold and pooled up on the floor below.

After what seemed like years, but was probably only a few minutes, the door opened again. These footsteps were familiar--they belonged to the evil man that had blindfolded her and handled her so roughly. The footsteps were strangely familiar, but she couldn’t seem to recall where she’d heard them before. They came right toward the bed. She felt hands reach down and grab her feet. She was roughly dragged out from under the bed. Her head struck one of the bedposts on her way out. The tears continued to flow, but she stifled her cry as best she could.

Just when she thought it could get any worse, the man whispered again, “Stay perfectly still, and don’t say a word.” The next thing she heard was a pair of scissors, snipping away with quick and careless motion. Her hair! The man was cutting away her hair! “Oh, please don’t do that,” she pleaded silently. The man rudely slapped her. “Not a word!” he whispered harshly.

Then the voice spoke once more. “I’m going to take off your blindfold, kid. Then you’re going to see me. But you won’t say a word, and you’ll do exactly as I say. Do you understand?” Remma nodded. Then the blindfold came off. Remma gasped as she saw the face of her captor.