Chapter 14
It had been two days in the dark cell, and Scarlen had pains in her feet and legs, lower back, and hips.
She felt fatigued and damp to her marrow.
The torture of the cold water and gruesome food wasn’t as bad as the shame of using the toilet facilities, at least the cold showers helped cleanse her, and so far she hadn’t been prodded with a baton.
Slumping her head backwards against the hard wall, she groaned. ‘How many times have you done this, Bear?’
‘A few.’
‘Does it get easier as the days pass?’ Not that she could count the hours. It was nothing but dark all the time in the cell. Her only indication was the food times, which she had quickly grown to hate.
‘No. It gets worse. And you won’t see the healer when you get out. You’ll be allowed to rest for the night, then back to your routine come morning, so they take you out of here at bedtime.’
If she weren’t in so much agony, she would look at that snippet of information as the bright side.
‘I know it’s painful and boring, but just know this time will pass, Scars.’
Her thoughts drifted to her bedchamber at the palace, the comfort of her bed, the warmth in the room, her books to read. ‘Whenever I was bored, I would always turn to my books. I found the stories helped transport me somewhere else. A place I could lose myself, if just for a while.’
A beat passed.
‘I could tell you a story,’ came Bear’s voice, croakier than normal.
‘Do you know many?’
‘Not really. But my mother used to tell me one when I was young.’
Scarlen smiled to herself at how comforting his presence was, even on the other side of a wall. ‘All right. Tell me the story.’
‘It’s about knights and a ring of fire.’
‘The ones who save kingdoms?’
‘You know the story?’
The memory of her mother telling her such a tale came to mind. ‘My mother knew a story like that. Perhaps it’s the same.’
‘It is said they come here to fight wyrmocs.’ Bear scoffed. ‘I think the king heard the story as well, then came up with the idea to use the wyrmocs to scare everyone.’
‘Yes, I hear that’s what some say in here.’
‘Do you believe in the mythical creatures?’
She shook her head even though he couldn’t see. ‘I’m not sure anymore. In the south, it’s what we’re told, but since being here, I’ve heard other beliefs.’
‘It’s quite simple when you lay it out. The king told the lower section of Borough Mids that a prophecy said a wyrmoc invasion was coming, but if they were under his rule instead of the government’s, they’d be safe, as his army would fight for them.
The people invited him in, then he started to charge them taxes.
At first, they didn’t mind, but then the taxes doubled, and people were struggling to cope with their businesses.
The rest of the Borough saw this, so they said no to the army helping them, and now we have battles breaking out.
If the king takes control of the whole of Borough Mids, he’ll come for the north next. ’
‘You truly believe the wyrmocs aren’t coming, and the king just wants ownership of the kingdom?’
‘Makes more sense. It was under a royal rule once.’
Scarlen had to agree raising taxes didn’t make the king look good, and she hoped no such creatures were going to destroy her kingdom, but what if her father wasn’t lying about them. What if his army was needed all over to help fight them.
‘Wyrmocs are as make-believe as the knights,’ said Bear.
Scarlen smiled, hearing her mother tell the tale. Her soft voice floating on air, such a warm feeling in her dismal home. ‘I like the story of the knights.’
‘Yeah, well, it would be nice to think someone could save us all if need be.’
Scarlen had been taught by her father to save herself, to be strong in her mind, and able to figure things out by herself. He was still training her now, and no doubt would love the idea of a dark cell. She was surprised there wasn’t one in the palace.
‘What would you be doing now if you were at home?’ she asked, thinking she would be reading by the window that overlooked the beach.
A long moment passed before he answered. ‘I’d be running through the woods, then I’d stop at the waterfall for a swim, feel the breeze on my face as I climb out to sit on the bank, then inhale the sweet scent of the wild flowers that grow close by.’ His sigh was deep. ‘It’s a good day.’
‘Sounds lovely, especially the waterfall. I’ve never seen one.’
‘I’ll take you there one day, and …’ He sighed again. ‘Sorry, I forgot myself for a moment.’
She understood. ‘We can pretend we’re there now. Tell me what I would see.’
‘It’s not too high, and its water is the clearest blue, with white froth at the base, and the sound is soothing, more a trickle than a whoosh.
There are always tiny colourful flowers that grow around the verge, and they smell of apples and pears.
The grass is dark green, and in the near distance are rolling hills and rocky valleys, with mountains beyond. ’
Scarlen had her eyes closed, imagining his home, floating in the water with him, sharing food on the bank.
She’d place flowers in her hair, then put some on him, and he would smile that warm smile he didn’t reveal often, and they would hold hands.
She held her own hand as her heart thumped at the thought of running free.
To have such a life out in the open. ‘I like the sound of your home.’
‘That’s what it’s like in the summer months.
Winter can be harsh, but I think you’d still like it there.
A village close by has a wishing well, and each morning on the first day of spring, the villagers toss down a coin and make a wish.
’ The smile was there in his voice. ‘And in the town we have celebrations during the full moon, where songs are sung and music is played.’
‘Sing me a song, Bear.’ She laughed at his laugh, the distraction welcome, as her stiff limbs were cold and weary.
‘It’s Raven who is the singer in my family. He often makes up lyrics and speaks them in song to Wyn.’
‘Do you know any?’
‘There’s one that goes, “Sweet baby girl, I know that you’re listening, as each sun sets in the sky, it’s you that I’m missing.
They can tear us apart, and bring all their hate, but nothing can harm us because you are my fate mate.
Year after year, no matter the time, we’ll always be as one, for I’m yours and you’re mine.
And when you’re back in my arms and your breath is on my cheek, I’ll hold you forever and show you what love means.
” Something like that anyway. Rav’s pretty good at it. ’
‘You’re pretty good at it too.’ She placed her palm on the wall, visualising him on the other side. ‘I liked it.’
‘Rav likes to use his imagination. Sometimes when you’re in such darkness, your imagination is all you have.’
Scarlen knew all too well how to pretend she was elsewhere. She shivered, her dark cell letting her know exactly where she was, but she fought back with her mind, seeing only the waterfall, the tiny flowers, Bear.
Bear raised his head as he inhaled his own sweat.
Something unusual was happening with Scarlen, confusing his emotions, his mind.
A need to protect her was coming from within instead of from the deal to save his sister, and he didn’t like the feeling, as he knew full well who Scarlen was, and there was no way he could take her to his home and show her his favourite spots.
Perhaps he’d never get out anyway. Never have such a chance to see the waterfall again.
Wake up. Get a grip.
He didn’t wallow. He got mad. And that alone pushed him forward.
There was an escape plan in place, and he needed to remain focused on that task, as Oxley hadn’t much time left.
All of this with Scarlen was a waste of energy, and he couldn’t allow her to get further inside him, because what he had with her wasn’t real.
It was the forced proximity, the lack of choices.
‘Tell me about your life, Smithson.’ Were they so different? Curiosity bit hard.
Her soft voice came through the wall, and he could visualise her standing there, no doubt shivering like him. ‘There’s not much to tell.’
He knew she wouldn’t admit to her father being the general.
Only a fool would speak of such a thing in such a place.
The battles on the mainland were seeping deep into the prison, causing conflict and division.
He couldn’t even finish the story of the knights because they had started talking about wyrmocs, then, as with everyone, tension appeared.
He didn’t blame her for believing all she’d been told, but it wasn’t an argument he wanted to have with her, or anyone.
‘I was starting to find my feet when I got put in here,’ she added.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Ah, you know, leaving home, going my own way. Wanting more for my life.’
‘What did you have planned?’
A small laugh whistled. ‘Would you believe I was heading north? I was thinking as high up as the top end of Borough Mids to start with. Check out the farming.’
‘You want to farm?’
‘I like the idea of having animals. Goats, cows. Make cheese, milk.’ Her sigh came next. ‘It was an idea.’
He thought the general’s daughter would have been put into the army. Perhaps that was her real crime. Maybe her father was punishing her. He shook his head at the absurdity. It was all too much trying to figure out Scarlen Smithson.
The rattling above warned of a soaking, and Bear dipped his head, ready for the icy chill of the water to wash over him. Scarlen’s scream wasn’t as loud as the first few times, and he guessed she had taken to clenching her teeth like he did.
He caught his breath as the dregs swirled down the hole between his feet, then flapped out his shift to release some droplets, not that it made much of a difference.
I have to get out of here. I have to get everyone home.
He continued the mantra in his head until Scarlen interrupted his thoughts.
‘Are you tired, Bear?’
He could hear she was. ‘Yeah, it’s normal. Just hold on.’ He wanted to hold her, but he willed the feeling away.
The sound of a sob came through the wall.
‘Don’t cry, Scars. There’s enough water in here.’ Her laugh instantly made him feel better.
‘I’m okay.’
He couldn’t turn, so simply rested his head on the door and closed his eyes, wishing he could wipe her tears.
Wishing he could take her home with him.
It might not be too bad. So what if she was the general’s daughter, she’d obviously turned her back on whatever life she had with her father, and maybe once home, his friends and family would accept her.
Accept him with her, rather than want to rip out his throat for bringing such a person into their safe place.
He laughed to himself at the thought. At least she wasn’t the king’s daughter. Bringing home the princess would definitely get him killed.