Chapter 10! Thanks for the reviews, favorites and alerts. I'm also sorry I'm such a sluggish updater. But... I don't have school the next two weeks... So write and write I shall. =)
R&R
Unlike Halt and Dane, Peronel was never led down into the depths of the dungeon to be locked in a cell. None the less, she found herself imprisoned in a different kind of chamber. In all reality, that's exactly what it was. The circular walls were wide spread and tinted with an odd bluish tinge. The floor underfoot was similar, though quite duller in color. Around the middle sized room were an assortment of furniture that Peronel had hardly taken time to notice. She'd only gone to perch on the edge of the bed across from the hearth, finding that she couldn't quite stand any longer.
The round table that stood before the hearth was lit by a flickering little candle, and Peronel stared at it for a long time. Her thoughts swirled but her body was still. So much had happened so fast, and now Peronel was left to reflect on the night.
"They'll kill him."
She spoke the words aloud, as if hearing them would take the pain away. Tears slipped down Peronel's face, dripping from her face and into her lap. If only such childish things worked. A cold brush of air blew in from a window that Peronel guessed must be behind her, and she drew her booted feet up onto the bed to wrap her arms around her knees. More tears fell, and Peronel let them. All along she'd thought him dead, and instead he'd been doing who knows what just to get to her killer.
Of course, the street smart Dane had never suspected or even considered that Peronel might be alive, and that's where the biggest fault to his plan lay. Perhaps if he had known, Peronel would have her arms wrapped around his waist as he nudged Shadowmere into a trot. They could be riding away from here and leaving all the bad memories behind them.
That wasn't the case, and Peronel realized that it never would be. When Dane hadn't come back with Sole before the deadline Peronel thought she'd be dead for sure. Only the sharp words of argument that Martha summoned forward in Peronel's defense had saved her life, and for that Peronel was ever grateful. She wasn't to be killed or freed, but kept on to prove her worth. Peronel was told that if she could prove herself useful of something that would benefit Marwick, she'd be kept around.
Initially Marwick had taken a romantic interest to Peronel, and he offered to take her as his bride, much to Peronel's disgust. He'd told her that having the King's Killer's lover as his wife would be something like having a trophy. Peronel's harsh refusal to his proposal had made life harder than it needed to be, and for the second time Martha took pity on Peronel and offered her aid.
Martha had seen to it that Peronel was overlooked until she could get together a way to help Peronel flee the Tower without Marwick knowing of it. Then Dane and the Ranger had showed up, and everything had come crashing down.
You've got to pick up the pieces now, Peronel thought to herself. The thought echoed in Peronel's mind for a long moment, and she found herself wiping the tears from her eyes and rising from the bed.
Not only had Dane gone come back to kill Marwick in her name, but he'd killed the Kingdom's sovereign for her. Peronel walked to the door and knocked, hoping the guard on the other side would at least consider her request.
It was only fair that Peronel made every effort she could for Dane. She could never kill a King in his name, that much she knew she would never have the courage or the prowess needed to succeed.
No, Peronel could never kill a King for Dane, but maybe she didn't have to. All Peronel needed to do was convince Marwick to spare Dane's life for a little longer. Perhaps Peronel and Dane could bargain for their freedom, but what did they have to offer?
For the first time Peronel noticed the mirror that stood beside the door. The lozenge shaped glass was tall and narrow, wrapped carefully by an elegant golden frame.
Looking into the glass Peronel saw herself reflected there, and with a slow revelation she realized just what she would bargain with.
"And you're sure about this?" Dane asked for what had to be the third time. Again¾for the third time—Halt nodded.
"I'm almost positive that this will work."
Dane still didn't think that all the reassurance in the world would make him comfortable with Halt's plan. The Ranger was clever, Dane would give him that, but the idea seemed to be filled with quite a bit of speculation on their part.
"And what if they don't bring us any food at all?"
Halt shrugged, "Then we sit here until one of us decides to eat the other."
Much like Halt's suggested plan of action, Dane didn't find the alternative very satisfying.
Halt's improvised plan was sketchy and yet plausible. The Ranger had a thin blade tucked into the sole of his boot, and while it wasn't very lethal it could serve other purposes. The first and foremost that they thought of was for picking the iron grates rusted lock. Dane was adept at lock picking, but when it came down to it the tool he had to work with it was simply not tailored well enough to the shape of the lock.
Dane's initial inspection of the lock had still yielded something that Halt believed they could put to use. The lock was old and quite rusted, and Dane had mentioned that all it would take was one lazy flick of a thinner bit of metal, or even so much as a sliver of wood, and the lock would click open. That's when Dane felt Halt's gaze settle on him, an idea brimming in his dark eyes.
"You said it yourself, you can pick this lock with a piece of wood. If there isn't something wooden on the tray they bring us food on, there'll be something that'll work just as well."
Dane shook his head, "You don't know that. You don't know if they'll bring us food at all, let alone if it'll be on a tray or just a hunk of old bread."
"Do you have a better idea?"
Dane opened his mouth to reply, but he closed it again and thought for a moment. "We could do what I did to get out of the King's dungeon," Dane offered cautiously.
"And what was that?"
"I threw a rock across to the cell opposite me, and when Brutus turned to see what it was that was clattering around in the empty space, I grabbed him through the bars and put a knife to his throat."
Halt considered for another long moment before he shook his head. "Too much commotion. We should try and get out of here as quietly as possible."
Dane conceded the point, and felt the need to question the surety of Halt's plan once more. This time Dane bit his tongue, deciding that Halt was right. It was best to try and get out of the Tower without drawing too much attention to themselves. How Halt planned to sneak through the Tower among all the guards and servants to find out where Peronel was being kept was a puzzlement to Dane. And they could only worry about that if they ever got out of the cellar in the first place.
Shaking his head Dane leaned his head back against the wall behind him and forced himself to think everything through. He planned it all out in his head, calculating all the things that could go wrong and pairing them with all the things he could do to get around them.
Marwick leaned back in his chair, his eyes thoroughly scrutinizing the woman in front of him. His dark eyes were guarded, and not a bit of the pleasure he felt at Peronel's offer showed in their twisted depths. He'd gotten word from the guard at her door that she wished to propose a proposition. Marwick had been at first reluctant to hear her out, but he'd agreed none the less. He'd never thought she'd offer him something that would claim his interest.
"I can see the sense in such an agreement on one hand," he said slowly, "and yet on the other it would be something close to suicide to let Dane go."
Peronel felt her last chance at saving Dane slipping away, she knew that Marwick spoke the truth. If Dane ever got another chance to rescue Peronel he wouldn't make the same mistakes that had got him thrown in a dismal cell beneath the earth. Next time he wouldn't leave any survivors, and this is what Peronel believed Marwick feared most.
"You never had any intentions to let him live after he did your dirty work, and that hasn't changed. You want him killed, at least spare his life in return for my kindness."
Marwick's eyebrows rose at Peronel's words. "Your kindness? Here you come, offering yourself to me like some low born whore. My consideration of your absurd proposition is the real kindness."
Peronel only tilted her head slightly to side, letting her blonde hair fall to frame her face a bit more elegantly. Marwick stared for a moment, considering Peronel once more. It was easy enough to see that she was beautiful, and even though she was low born she could be forged into a Queen, and further more a puppet on the throne.
"You won't be my bride.," he said finally after a long moment of thought.
Peronel felt her stomach drop dreadfully, and all the hope and resolve she'd harbored seemed to seep away like the warmth of a dying flame.
"No, you'll be my brother's bride," Marwick decided with a note of finality.
Peronel knew it meant that Dane wouldn't die that night or the next. But it also meant she would be placed at the mercy of a true tyrant.
Halt was well into the process of shaving down a good sized piece of wood into a mere bit when the sound of boot heels against the stone floor rang out again. The Ranger's gaze met Dane's for the briefest of moments before both the knife and the wood disappeared from sight. Just as Halt had suspected, they were brought a small tray of food, with barely enough morsels to fill one man's stomach, let alone two. While the tray was a rusty bit of aged silver, the bowl that held the grayish gruel was in fact very much made of wood. It wasn't ideal, but Halt could work with it none the less.
A torch illuminated the walkway, and for the second time Marwick stood looking down at the two cloaked figures. For their part Halt and Dane looked back, their looks of scrutinizing interest mirroring that of the other man.
Marwick nodded a guard forward, "Let the girl have a few moments with them. Don't open the cell again until the other guards arrive."
With that the guard shuffled forward and opened the gate, jerking his head at another figure in the hallway. At first sight Halt had thought it to be another guard, but when the figure slipped into the cell it was Peronel, clad as she had been upon their first meeting.
Dane rose immediately as Marwick's footsteps began to retreat into the darkness. Before he'd made it half a step towards Peronel she'd already closed the distance between them.
Halt did his best to ignore the soft words the two traded between one another, deciding he'd rather not know what the two had to say to one another. Still, it was very hard to ignore Peronel when her words turned to sobs.
"I'm sorry, Dane. I'm so sorry."
Dane hushed her and pulled her close. "You're not hurt are you?"
Peronel buried her face against his shoulder and shook her head, "No. They told me I could have a minute to tell you. And now I'm scared to."
"Don't be, I'm here."
Peronel pressed closer to Dane's shoulder, finding it so much warmer than her crumbling heart. "I think it's ironic. We stood in this same spot when you told me you were going to kill the King."
"I know," Dane said. He thought back to the stormy night he and Sole had set out for Araluen's capital. The deal that Marwick had proposed to Dane had left next to no room for mishaps. Only when the King was in his coffin and Sole at Marwick's side again would Peronel be let free. Of course, things had not turned out at all as Marwick had planned, but Dane didn't think that Marwick much cared for what happened to Sole. As long as the King was dead Dane was sure that Marwick had no reason to care about anything else at all, including what happened to his hired killer. Dane didn't think it would've mattered if he'd come back and asked Marwick to give him Peronel. He still would've ended up in the same cell.
"Marwick and his brother are leaving," Peronel murmured. "And I'm going with them." She felt Dane's arms stiffen around her.
Dane's voice was a bit higher pitched than he'd intended when he finally found the words. "I won't them take you away."
"I knew you'd say that," Peronel told him, "and I know that if you should try to keep me here they'll find it better to do away with you altogether."
The thief opened his mouth to promise her he would wouldn't let that happen, but Peronel smiled sadly up at him and spoke before he could. "No, not this time. I'm going to be the one to stop that from happening. I'm going with them to be a bride, in exchange for your life."
"No," Dane said, breathless. He was shaking his head, "I won't let them make you leave."
"I never said they were making me," Peronel said quietly. She could see in Dane's eyes how much her words hurt him. The immediate regret she felt at knowing she caused the anguish in the grey depths of his gaze was enough to make her heart clench in its own painful way.
"You don't have to do this," Dane told her.
Peronel shook her head at him slightly, "I think I have to. Waiting here will do neither of us any good. I don't think Marwick will leave much of a guard to keep you here, and even if he does, I'm sure you'll get away from them."
Dane tried to keep calm, and much of it was reflected on his face. Inside he was in turmoil. He'd never thought Peronel would go so far to keep him alive, if only for a while longer, and through marriage of all things. She hadn't even wanted to consider marriage between herself and Dane, for fear it would bring about children in a time when money was too scarce for her. It wasn't as if Dane made much either, and Peronel had refused to accept a single copper from him unless it was dutifully earned.
"I'll come after you," he told her. "I swear I will."
"No, don't. Do anything except that." Peronel found herself pleading with him. "You shouldn't put yourself at anymore risk. It's better that you get away from here, and go somewhere you'll be safe from this. There's too many people who want you dead." Peronel could see in Dane's eyes that the price on his own head didn't matter to him.
"It'll be better for me. We could never have moved away, just you and I, and raised a family. It'd have beeen miserable, you know that. At least with Marwick's brother as my husband, I'll be able to live a happy life and not wonder if I'll even have a next meal. I'm better off without you."
Dane swayed on his feet, not quite believing what he was hearing. He'd always known the chances of a life with Peronel were slim, but that didn't mean he hadn't had hopes. Their was his own hope, and the thought that maybe Peronel had enough faith in him to take care of her. Apparently not. Numbly Dane let her go, feeling as if his world was tumbling apart.
Peronel felt fresh tears trickle down her face. Dane's eyes were quickly turning to stone, erasing all the emotion from his face. Somehow it was worse than seeing the anguish that had burned in his eyes not a moment before. "I'm so sorry," she told him, wishing she could see some trace of emotion on his face just one last time.
Still as stone Dane stood, and it seemed as if the very fight had gone out of him. His shoulders were slumped, his hands hung limp at his sides. He'd taken a step back from Peronel. He'd thought it hurt to lose someone you loved, but knowing they'd rather marry to a tyrant than be with you was much worse. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt so much if Dane didn't know it was true. Peronel would be better off without him.
Behind Peronel a guard, now aided by several others, pulled the cell's iron door open. A guard slipped in, and keeping Peronel between him and Dane he put a firm hand on Peronel's shoulder. Another followed him, facing Halt with one hand on his sword hilt.
"Time's up," one murmured, his gaze resting on Dane. He'd seen what both Halt and Dane could do in a fight, and he didn't much like the idea of being anywhere near them. Neither Halt or Dane made a move as they led Peronel away. Vaguely Dane felt her hand slip from his, and he watched her go, hearing her steps retreat away into the darkness.
Brokenly Dane realized she no longer wanted him to follow.
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