Hidden Mysteries

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

          Anya woke up the next morning refreshed, thankful for the new mattress. Her back had not felt this good in years. She sat up and stretched, glancing out her small bedroom window. It was still dark out. Yawning, she flipped her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. Clad only in her nightgown, she scratched her head as she walked out back of her home, figuring that since she was about the only who lived out here it would not matter.

          Once finished with her business, she washed her hands in the basin near the latrine and went back inside. She dried her hands on a small towel that hung by the back door and replaced it. That was about the moment when she realized something was wrong. 
Anya looked around the room, closing the door slowly behind her with her foot. Her bedroom door was left open wider than she had remembered leaving it and the kitchen chairs were no longer pushed under the table. Anya narrowed her eyes, waiting for that tenor voice to call out with mischief. 



          She heard a rustle behind her and she whipped around to face the intruder, prepared to see those blue eyes. What she did not expect was the hard, calloused hand that reached for her neck. She was pushed into the wall behind her, being forced into the air by the hand around her throat. 



          "It is nice to see you again, Anya." The man sneered. He had a long nose on his dark face and his brown eyes pierced hers. His hair was black and long enough to be tied in a tail behind his head. "Did you miss me too?"



          Anya simply stared at him, paralyzed where she was. "I-I- who are you?" 



          "I am disappointed in you, I really thought I had made a lasting impression on you eight years ago." 



          "No..." Her eyes opened wide in shock at him. "Get – away – from me!" Her voice grew louder with each word as she struggled against his grip.



          "Shut your trap." He growled as the sharp ring of metal sounded. A knife appeared in the intruder's hand and he pressed it against her jawline. A sneer appeared on his ugly face. "You remember our old friend Kavoc, though, do you not?" Anya's body shook with fright. "Ah, of course you do. Well, he has asked me to pick you up for him. Are you not excited? It will be a nice reunion, eh?" 



          "No!" She screamed again. The cold metal of the knife pressed against her skin. 



          "Quiet! You come with me willingly, and Kavoc promises no pain.” He hand clenched tightly on her neck for a moment. “Unwillingly, however, he, of course, can offer no such means." 



          He set her feet down on the floor slowly and releasing the hand that held her throat, but keeping the knife against her skin, he pulled out a burlap sack from behind him. "Now do not struggle..." He said slowly, the smirk on his face growing wider. 



          Without warning, Anya heard the front door slam open and suddenly the man was wrenched away from her, his knife grazing her neck. 



          Anya turned around to see her stranger friend looming over the intruder, the knife on the floor near her. She looked into the hard dark blue eyes with panicked ones of her own. 



          “What is going on here?” He demanded, not taking his eyes off Anya, but clearly talking to the intruder.



          The man merely grinned at him. “Hello Prince Mason.” He showed no fear as far as Anya could tell.


          
“P-prince?!” She sputtered. “Mason?!” Her world was turning upside down. How was any of this possible?



          “Oh? You did not tell Anya?” The intruder asked Mason. “Strange, do you not think?” 



          The prince looked enraged as he picked the man up by the collar of his shirt and shoved him against the wall of the house. “Why are you here?” He asked, his jaw clenched. 



          The man looked straight at Anya. “I have come to pick up a package.” 



          Mason slammed him against the wall again. “Who sent you?” He asked, his voice getting angrier. 



          “Do you think I am going to tell you that?” He laughed. “You are sadly mistaken!” 



          “I warn you,” The prince spoke acidly. “The guard at the prison will not be this kind to you.” 



          “You do not scare me, prince.” The man spat at him just as the sound of more than one set of feet came through the door. Four royal guards stepped inside Anya's house, their hands on their swords. 



          “Your orders, Your Majesty?” One of the uniformed men asked. 



          “Take him to Tower Prison.” The prince shoved the intruder into the arms of the soldiers, who towed him out. 



          “Mark my words, Anya Thimes! You will pay for all of this!” The man shouted as he was escorted out. “You cannot escape us!”

          Mason turned to Anya and went to her, looking concerned. He pulled a handkerchief out of his trousers and pressed it to her neck gently. “Are you alright?” He asked.



          She nodded, breathing a little heavily as she stared at her front door. “How did you know?”



          “Know what?” His eyebrows pulled together.



          “Who I was; that I was in trouble; that I needed your help.”



          “The first question is simple to answer,” He looked into her eyes. “You are very hard to forget, Miss Thimes.” He smiled slightly. “And to answer your second inquiry; I did not know, I was coming to visit you, and I am very glad I did so.” His eyes softened as he pulled the handkerchief away, blood on it. “I shall return shortly.” He said before standing up. “Try not to be almost killed while I am gone, please.” Mason was clearly trying to lighten the mood, but the smile on his lips did not quite reach his eyes.

          Anya swallowed before answering. “I will try.” She tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. Mason only nodded once before turning and leaving the house.