Daniel could feel his body grow almost unbearably heavy at the sight of the large four-poster bed, so drawn to it that it took a heartbeat for him to cast a much-needed glance around the rest of the room. It was light, it was inviting, and blessedly empty. He couldn't even hear any little cockroaches scurrying about. There were still drawers open and a shattered piture on the ground, as well as the lingering air of panic from his...encounter...in this very room early that day, but he couldn't find the energy to care.
He ached. He'd been traipsing about, often at a run, for...God, he didn't know. 12 hours? 20? He set his lantern, glowing dimly and needing more oil, on the small desk, and peered outside. Deep, inky blackness yeilded no view of the grounds, but bade the window to act as a dim mirror. He looked as poor as he felt, with his hair sweat soasked and his eyes looking as aged and weary as Alexander's. His body felt about as old. He felt he must be use to hard work, but this was somethign entirely different, far too taxing on the nerves and bones. And back, he thought bitterly, wincing as the wrong movement pulled at three long but shallow gashes at his shoulder. He had two bottles of laudenum he'd raided..perhaps he could spare one.
Silence. God-given silence. He trecked on tip-toe around the entire room, twice, peering under the bed and behind the armoir. Nothing. With a quick pulse, he eased open the door back to the entrance hall, barely enough to press his nose through the crack and look around. Stillness. Nothing...no one there.
He closed the latch again as silently as he could; noise was frigtening. Noise was bad. Noises and growls and heavy pounding footsteps, pounding heart..no!
...No. There wans't anything here. He was alone...for how long, he couldn't be sure, but he was for now. As alone as he was ever going to be for the time being.
The last of his strength was spent hauling the desk across the floor, to lodge under the doorhandle...This trunk too, yes. And the matress, after he ripped the sheets and deep green blankets off of it. So heavy, all of it, and his arms screamed at him in protest, but he willed on. Safety, security, it hinged on a strong barricade...if only he could move the bed, he lamented, as he wiped his forehead clean of sweat on the corner of the sheets. But the immese weight that would surely keep those servants out also made it impossible for one man to move. This would have to do. He just prayed there had been nothing nearby to hear the scratchign and pounding of his little project...
Ah, how soft the duvet was. Soft, tapestry woven linen and silk, stuffed with goose down...it would be warm, and comforting. He could almost feel a smile stretch across his cracked lips as a near giddyness overtook him...exhaustion, he though. He was so exhausted. He just couldn't cotinue on, not without a bite to eat, a few minutes to lie down...he doubted he'd actually be able to sleep. He didn't recall how well he'd slept at Brennenburg three days prior, but he doubted presently that even a half hour was realistic.
The wardrobe in the corner was small and cramped, but it latched tight and when he closed it up, he could see no light seeping out. He could keep his lantern going, for a while at least. The duvet folded nicely, and offered a cocoon for Daniel to climb into. He sighd happily and kicked off his boots...no. Maybe that was a bad idea. What if he had to run? Back on with the boots.
The layers of tiny, fluffy feathers in the coverlet sinking in around him, conforming to the curves of his aching body.
"Ah, mearly forgot," Daniel murmurs to himself, and flinched at such a quiet sound. He rumaged through the little satchel he'd been carrying. On top, resting on his little hoard of tinder and journal, was his prize, a tiny collection of food he's scavenged from one of the kitchens. He shuddered, recalling the smell of rotted meat that hadn't been salted, of putrid fruit and the writing about of maggots. Had the castle bene left abadonedfor so long? Or was the presence of something so truly disheartening and evil enough to decay this lfie? He didn't know... It had taken ages to find a loaf of bread only mariginally molded, and a small vase he could fill with water.
He was starving! Ravenous, he began to pick and tear at the mold, tossing it aside for the stale, but edible brad underneath. there wasn't much, and it was dry and stale, but it was something, and he didn't care. The water, too, was hardly somethign he coudl stomach, but he knewhe was getting dehydrated. Exhausted, starving, and dehydrated...but in this little cabinet, with no noises, no groaning, and the rich amber light of his lamp hanging from a hooke, he could almost forget the nightmare that had snared him. He could forget the little he remembered, and block out the terror that coursed constantly through his brain.
Almost.
There were two bottles of laudenum left in his pack. Pretty things they were, that sparkled like emeralds in the firelight...he wondered what liquor this particular sort was made from. Perhaps with one, for a few blessed moment, he could forget entirely.