Author's notes: Thank you to everyone who reviewed, and Gemma, if you're
reading this, why aren't you revising? Oh yeah, I remember now, it's cause
you've got less exams than everyone else. I hate you, but keep reading
anyway.
***
Mir heard the footsteps approaching and guessed they were bringing Rion back. He had been gone for quite some time, and Mir was getting worried. It was obvious that Rion was the one they wanted, not him, but Mir couldn't guess why. He didn't know what they could be doing to his friend.
To his surprise, it was the door of his cell that opened, and there was more than one person there. Four men and two women waited while another man pulled him from the cell and bound his arms tightly behind him. This wasn't just a toilet trip, this was something important. Fear shot through Mir as he wondered if they'd done something to Rion and wanted to show him.
As they led him up the steps, he took a moment just to look around and feel the sun. He might not be part elf like Rion, but he was glad to be in fresh air again after all that time in a cell. He was surprised to see that the ship was in a harbour, but given the time they had been at sea it shouldn't really be that surprising. The harbour was a small one, with only a few ships, but all those were large. It was against a rock face that sent out two arms of rock, protecting it and meaning Mir couldn't see what lay beyond them. In front of him, set up almost against the cliff, was a high wall and behind it Mir could see the top towers of a castle.
The group of guards took him down a narrow gangplank onto dry land. It didn't feel as steady as he remembered, and after the motion of the ship seemed almost to be swaying. Once on the land, one of them wrapped a thick cloth around his eyes. He struggled uselessly, but couldn't prevent them securing it and ensuring he couldn't see a thing.
Then they began moving again. Mir was marched forwards, someone keeping a firm grip on his arms, steering him and ensuring he didn't try to escape. As he walked, he wondered where Rion was. Had they taken him off first?
He heard the sound of a door opening, and then the air suddenly became cooler as they passed inside. He heard the door shut behind him, and shuddered slightly as escape became further away. They went forward some more, and then up some stairs. Mir tried to remember the route they took, but it was quite long. He was certain of one thing though, they went up a lot of stairs.
At last they reached wherever it was they were going. Hands tore the blindfold off and released his arms. Mir turned round to see the door slam shut. He didn't need to hear the sound of the key to know he was locked in. He looked round his knew prison. The room was small, but after the box-like prison on the ship it seemed spacious. There was a narrow bed, and a table with two chairs set at it, but that was all the furnishings the room had. There was a small window in the wall, but it was barred so there was no hope of escape that way. He went to it anyway, and looked out.
His room looked out over a stretch of grass that lay between the wall of the building he was in and another wall a good distance away. Across to the left he could a path going up to a gate in the wall, guarded by soldiers in the uniform with the dragon emblem. Beyond the wall all he could see was the shimmering blue of the sea.
He sat back on the bed and wondered what was happening to Rion. He wished they were together. Even in that horrible cell on the ship things hadn't been so bad because he knew Rion was there and they could talk.
But surely he shouldn't like Rion being there. He should want Rion to be safe and free. And he would be if not for him. The only reason Rion hadn't been able to escape was because Mir had been there. He'd come back because of him, been captured because of him, and now who knew what terrible torture they were putting him through? All because of him. Softly, Mir began to cry.
***
Rion woke slowly, taking in his surroundings before he even opened his eyes. He was lying on something soft, hopefully a bed, and was alone since he couldn't hear anyone else's breathing. He could still smell vomit so he was wearing the same clothes he'd been wearing since the attack. And he was tied down.
He opened his eyes and saw that his assessment was correct. His wrists and ankles were tied with ropes that reached over his body and tied beneath the bed he was lying on, immobilising him very effectively. The surprising thing was that clothes had been wrapped round the ropes where they were tied to him, meaning that they weren't painful against his skin. For whatever reason, the people holding him were specifically trying not to hurt him.
He looked round the room he was in, and was more surprised. He'd stayed in guestrooms that were worse. Two wide windows in one wall let in a lot of sunlight. There was a door in the opposite wall made of a sturdy wood, but carved in a delicate pattern of leaves. The bed was set centrally against one of the other walls, a large four-poster with posts carved in the same manner as the door. Opposite him was a fireplace, with two armchairs on either side of it. In the centre of the room, on a thick rug was a table surrounded by four chairs. As well as these there was a large wardrobe, a chest, a dressing table with a stool by it, a washstand and a full-length mirror. But what was the point of any of these things if he was tied down?
He lay there for some time, and watched as the rectangles of sunlight slowly moved across the floor. Finally he heard footsteps, and a key turned in the lock of the door. Rion watched as a soldier opened it to allow two servants to enter. One carried a steaming jug over to the washstand and set it down before leaving again. The other took a tray of food to the table then went to the chest. She took out clothes and laid them out on top of the chest, before going to the fireplace and laying a fire. Rion watched as she did all this, wondering what the point was. He wouldn't be able to get up to use any of these things.
However, once the fire was laid the servant came up to Rion, looking rather nervous at the prospect. Actually she looked terrified. She began untying the ropes that held him to the bed, looking as though she expected him to leap up and strangle her the instant he was free. Instead he lay calmly, waiting until she was finished.
"Thank you," Rion said, sitting up.
"There's no need to thank me, your highness," she said with a curtsy and left. Rion was puzzled. He might expect the same treatment from a servant in Minas Tirith, not someone in a place where he was kept prisoner.
Well, he might as well eat while he puzzled. He hadn't eaten since before the storm and most of that he had lost, so he was very hungry. The food was good, sweetened porridge and plenty of bread. It felt like years since he had had a hot meal, not since the evening before he had been captured when he had had dinner with his parents.
His parents. They must be so worried about him. His father always got frantic if he was only slightly late home from hunting. He'd probably be tearing the palace apart by now. And his mother. She'd be so upset, loosing her only son. As an elf she didn't often have to face loss.
Rion brushed away the tears and went to the washstand. Stripping down he washed himself completely in the warm water, delighting in the feeling of cleanliness. In minutes he was dressed in the clean clothes, since his own were probably ruined for good. The clothes the servant had laid out for him were of fine cloth, and well tailored, not something he would have expected a prisoner to be given. Nothing here seemed to make sense.
He looked round the room carefully, searching for anything that might be of use. The chest and wardrobe were filled with clothes, some as fine as the ones his father made him wear on formal occasions. All he could find on the dressing table was a silver-handled hairbrush and a gold circlet set with small green stones. They might have given him a comfortable room, but they made sure to remove anything a prisoner could use to aid an escape. The only thing that might be potentially useful was the poker by the side of the fire.
Sighing, he went to one of the windows and looked out. Below him, a long way below, was an orchard. Rion eyed the drop, but knew that even a full elf wouldn't be able to survive it. Surrounding the orchard on all sides were walls filled with windows, but the roof of the building was lower than the room he was in. He must be in some sort of tower. Over the roof he could see a blue sky, and a horizon where storm clouds were beginning to form over the sea.
He turned to face the door as he heard booted feet approaching. Maybe now he would learn something of the purpose of his capture. The door was unlocked and the man who had drugged him came in. He guessed that this man was the captain of that group of soldiers. Behind him more soldiers stood.
"The king has sent for you," the captain said. Rion expected the soldiers to come forward and seize him, but instead the captain looked round the room and then crossed to the dressing table. He picked up the circlet Rion had left, and held it out to him. "You are to wear this."
"Why?"
"Because the king has given instructions." Rion hesitated for a moment, and then took the circlet. Whatever the room implied, he was a prisoner here, and there was no sense angering his captors about something as senseless as an ornament.
"Follow me," the captain said. He walked towards the door, but looked back when Rion remained where he was. "Would you rather you were dragged?" Rion walked slowly after him, the soldiers falling into place around him.
It was quite a long journey, along corridors and down stairs. He tried to remember the route, but after many turnings he knew he wouldn't have a hope of finding his way again. This place must be huge, judging from the glimpses of other parts of the building that he got through the windows they past. Finally they came to a pair of magnificently carved oak doors, with gold door-handles. The group stopped and the captain knocked once.
"Enter," a voice called from within. The room beyond the doors was as magnificent as the doors themselves. Paintings hung on panelled walls, and rich furnishings stood on a carpeted floor. A tall man stood there: the king.
"Welcome, Prince Eldarion," he said, his expression unreadable. With a wave of his hand he gestured for the guards to close the doors, remaining outside. The captain stayed in the room, but moved to stand behind Rion.
"I trust your journey wasn't too unpleasant," the king continued. Rion didn't even bother to reply.
"Show some respect," the captain snarled.
"When he acts in a manner worthy of respect, I will show some," Rion replied. It was foolish he knew, and wasn't surprised when the captain raised his hand to strike him. But the hand never touched him, for the king raised his hand in a signal to the captain not to.
"Sit, your highness," the king said, and waved a hand to a pair of chairs that sat facing each other. Rion hesitated, but then sat down opposite the king. If he held his king he might get some answers to the questions that were filling his mind. He didn't even know what kingdom he was in.
"Captain Graynal tells me that you tried to escape when he captured you, even though it meant leaving your friends behind."
"There was no sense in us all being captured," Rion answered, "if I could have got free then I could have got help to the others."
"Sensible," the king said, "I'm glad that you don't have such foolish notions of duty that others might have in your place, that it would be better to die by a friend's side than to take the chance of escape offered. I offer you a chance, Prince Eldarion. Your stay here could be a very pleasant one as a royal guest." Rion guessed the price would be one as severe as the price demanded on the journey.
"And what would I have to do for this?"
"Very little, all I ask if for some information of your country." Anger flooded Rion at the notion that he could be thought of as someone who would betray his country, and he forgot all his decisions about holding his tongue.
"I will tell you nothing! No matter what you may do to me! And if you hurt either myself or my friend you will find my 'foolish notions of duty' demand that I kill you." He glared at the king, expecting any moment to be struck. The only thing that struck him however was a soft chuckle from the king's lips.
The surprise calmed Rion, and he realised what a mistake he'd made. By bringing Mir into it he'd told them how much he meant to him. Now they would use Mir against him, hurting him to try and make him speak. By speaking rashly he'd put Mir in danger, and any pain they inflicted on him would be his fault.
"The cub shows his teeth," the king said, smiling, " but you tell as much by your refusal as you would an acceptance. So be it." He lifted his head to speak to the captain who still stood there. "Take the young prince back to his room."
Rion stood, puzzling over the king's comment, and allowed the captain to take him out into the corridor. His mind was flooded with thoughts and ideas. One thing seemed certain, that the king wanted to get information out of him and if he would stoop to kidnap he'd probably be willing to do worse things as well. If he didn't get away now and find Mir the chances were they'd never have a chance of getting out.
Four guards walked around him, two in front on either side, and two behind. One against four didn't give him very good odds, but if he waited the odds were likely to get worse, besides he had surprise on his side.
Rion moved suddenly, bringing his fist into the face of one of the guards behind him. The one next to him tried to grab him, but Rion was moving first, ducking under his outstretched arms and running. He could hear them behind him but didn't turn to look. He just ran.
Something slammed into his back and he fell flat on his face. The something, probably one of the guards, was still there, pinning him painfully to the ground. Rion struggled, but the guards seized his arms firmly and tied them tightly behind him. It was hopeless, and moments later Rion was hauled to his feet, and taken away, the guards holding him so he wouldn't escape again. It was all over so quickly, and now he wouldn't have another chance.
In his despair at the failed attempt, he didn't notice that someone was watching him curiously from a nearby doorway.
***
Author's note: What do you think? Please keep reviewing and I'll keep writing.
***
Mir heard the footsteps approaching and guessed they were bringing Rion back. He had been gone for quite some time, and Mir was getting worried. It was obvious that Rion was the one they wanted, not him, but Mir couldn't guess why. He didn't know what they could be doing to his friend.
To his surprise, it was the door of his cell that opened, and there was more than one person there. Four men and two women waited while another man pulled him from the cell and bound his arms tightly behind him. This wasn't just a toilet trip, this was something important. Fear shot through Mir as he wondered if they'd done something to Rion and wanted to show him.
As they led him up the steps, he took a moment just to look around and feel the sun. He might not be part elf like Rion, but he was glad to be in fresh air again after all that time in a cell. He was surprised to see that the ship was in a harbour, but given the time they had been at sea it shouldn't really be that surprising. The harbour was a small one, with only a few ships, but all those were large. It was against a rock face that sent out two arms of rock, protecting it and meaning Mir couldn't see what lay beyond them. In front of him, set up almost against the cliff, was a high wall and behind it Mir could see the top towers of a castle.
The group of guards took him down a narrow gangplank onto dry land. It didn't feel as steady as he remembered, and after the motion of the ship seemed almost to be swaying. Once on the land, one of them wrapped a thick cloth around his eyes. He struggled uselessly, but couldn't prevent them securing it and ensuring he couldn't see a thing.
Then they began moving again. Mir was marched forwards, someone keeping a firm grip on his arms, steering him and ensuring he didn't try to escape. As he walked, he wondered where Rion was. Had they taken him off first?
He heard the sound of a door opening, and then the air suddenly became cooler as they passed inside. He heard the door shut behind him, and shuddered slightly as escape became further away. They went forward some more, and then up some stairs. Mir tried to remember the route they took, but it was quite long. He was certain of one thing though, they went up a lot of stairs.
At last they reached wherever it was they were going. Hands tore the blindfold off and released his arms. Mir turned round to see the door slam shut. He didn't need to hear the sound of the key to know he was locked in. He looked round his knew prison. The room was small, but after the box-like prison on the ship it seemed spacious. There was a narrow bed, and a table with two chairs set at it, but that was all the furnishings the room had. There was a small window in the wall, but it was barred so there was no hope of escape that way. He went to it anyway, and looked out.
His room looked out over a stretch of grass that lay between the wall of the building he was in and another wall a good distance away. Across to the left he could a path going up to a gate in the wall, guarded by soldiers in the uniform with the dragon emblem. Beyond the wall all he could see was the shimmering blue of the sea.
He sat back on the bed and wondered what was happening to Rion. He wished they were together. Even in that horrible cell on the ship things hadn't been so bad because he knew Rion was there and they could talk.
But surely he shouldn't like Rion being there. He should want Rion to be safe and free. And he would be if not for him. The only reason Rion hadn't been able to escape was because Mir had been there. He'd come back because of him, been captured because of him, and now who knew what terrible torture they were putting him through? All because of him. Softly, Mir began to cry.
***
Rion woke slowly, taking in his surroundings before he even opened his eyes. He was lying on something soft, hopefully a bed, and was alone since he couldn't hear anyone else's breathing. He could still smell vomit so he was wearing the same clothes he'd been wearing since the attack. And he was tied down.
He opened his eyes and saw that his assessment was correct. His wrists and ankles were tied with ropes that reached over his body and tied beneath the bed he was lying on, immobilising him very effectively. The surprising thing was that clothes had been wrapped round the ropes where they were tied to him, meaning that they weren't painful against his skin. For whatever reason, the people holding him were specifically trying not to hurt him.
He looked round the room he was in, and was more surprised. He'd stayed in guestrooms that were worse. Two wide windows in one wall let in a lot of sunlight. There was a door in the opposite wall made of a sturdy wood, but carved in a delicate pattern of leaves. The bed was set centrally against one of the other walls, a large four-poster with posts carved in the same manner as the door. Opposite him was a fireplace, with two armchairs on either side of it. In the centre of the room, on a thick rug was a table surrounded by four chairs. As well as these there was a large wardrobe, a chest, a dressing table with a stool by it, a washstand and a full-length mirror. But what was the point of any of these things if he was tied down?
He lay there for some time, and watched as the rectangles of sunlight slowly moved across the floor. Finally he heard footsteps, and a key turned in the lock of the door. Rion watched as a soldier opened it to allow two servants to enter. One carried a steaming jug over to the washstand and set it down before leaving again. The other took a tray of food to the table then went to the chest. She took out clothes and laid them out on top of the chest, before going to the fireplace and laying a fire. Rion watched as she did all this, wondering what the point was. He wouldn't be able to get up to use any of these things.
However, once the fire was laid the servant came up to Rion, looking rather nervous at the prospect. Actually she looked terrified. She began untying the ropes that held him to the bed, looking as though she expected him to leap up and strangle her the instant he was free. Instead he lay calmly, waiting until she was finished.
"Thank you," Rion said, sitting up.
"There's no need to thank me, your highness," she said with a curtsy and left. Rion was puzzled. He might expect the same treatment from a servant in Minas Tirith, not someone in a place where he was kept prisoner.
Well, he might as well eat while he puzzled. He hadn't eaten since before the storm and most of that he had lost, so he was very hungry. The food was good, sweetened porridge and plenty of bread. It felt like years since he had had a hot meal, not since the evening before he had been captured when he had had dinner with his parents.
His parents. They must be so worried about him. His father always got frantic if he was only slightly late home from hunting. He'd probably be tearing the palace apart by now. And his mother. She'd be so upset, loosing her only son. As an elf she didn't often have to face loss.
Rion brushed away the tears and went to the washstand. Stripping down he washed himself completely in the warm water, delighting in the feeling of cleanliness. In minutes he was dressed in the clean clothes, since his own were probably ruined for good. The clothes the servant had laid out for him were of fine cloth, and well tailored, not something he would have expected a prisoner to be given. Nothing here seemed to make sense.
He looked round the room carefully, searching for anything that might be of use. The chest and wardrobe were filled with clothes, some as fine as the ones his father made him wear on formal occasions. All he could find on the dressing table was a silver-handled hairbrush and a gold circlet set with small green stones. They might have given him a comfortable room, but they made sure to remove anything a prisoner could use to aid an escape. The only thing that might be potentially useful was the poker by the side of the fire.
Sighing, he went to one of the windows and looked out. Below him, a long way below, was an orchard. Rion eyed the drop, but knew that even a full elf wouldn't be able to survive it. Surrounding the orchard on all sides were walls filled with windows, but the roof of the building was lower than the room he was in. He must be in some sort of tower. Over the roof he could see a blue sky, and a horizon where storm clouds were beginning to form over the sea.
He turned to face the door as he heard booted feet approaching. Maybe now he would learn something of the purpose of his capture. The door was unlocked and the man who had drugged him came in. He guessed that this man was the captain of that group of soldiers. Behind him more soldiers stood.
"The king has sent for you," the captain said. Rion expected the soldiers to come forward and seize him, but instead the captain looked round the room and then crossed to the dressing table. He picked up the circlet Rion had left, and held it out to him. "You are to wear this."
"Why?"
"Because the king has given instructions." Rion hesitated for a moment, and then took the circlet. Whatever the room implied, he was a prisoner here, and there was no sense angering his captors about something as senseless as an ornament.
"Follow me," the captain said. He walked towards the door, but looked back when Rion remained where he was. "Would you rather you were dragged?" Rion walked slowly after him, the soldiers falling into place around him.
It was quite a long journey, along corridors and down stairs. He tried to remember the route, but after many turnings he knew he wouldn't have a hope of finding his way again. This place must be huge, judging from the glimpses of other parts of the building that he got through the windows they past. Finally they came to a pair of magnificently carved oak doors, with gold door-handles. The group stopped and the captain knocked once.
"Enter," a voice called from within. The room beyond the doors was as magnificent as the doors themselves. Paintings hung on panelled walls, and rich furnishings stood on a carpeted floor. A tall man stood there: the king.
"Welcome, Prince Eldarion," he said, his expression unreadable. With a wave of his hand he gestured for the guards to close the doors, remaining outside. The captain stayed in the room, but moved to stand behind Rion.
"I trust your journey wasn't too unpleasant," the king continued. Rion didn't even bother to reply.
"Show some respect," the captain snarled.
"When he acts in a manner worthy of respect, I will show some," Rion replied. It was foolish he knew, and wasn't surprised when the captain raised his hand to strike him. But the hand never touched him, for the king raised his hand in a signal to the captain not to.
"Sit, your highness," the king said, and waved a hand to a pair of chairs that sat facing each other. Rion hesitated, but then sat down opposite the king. If he held his king he might get some answers to the questions that were filling his mind. He didn't even know what kingdom he was in.
"Captain Graynal tells me that you tried to escape when he captured you, even though it meant leaving your friends behind."
"There was no sense in us all being captured," Rion answered, "if I could have got free then I could have got help to the others."
"Sensible," the king said, "I'm glad that you don't have such foolish notions of duty that others might have in your place, that it would be better to die by a friend's side than to take the chance of escape offered. I offer you a chance, Prince Eldarion. Your stay here could be a very pleasant one as a royal guest." Rion guessed the price would be one as severe as the price demanded on the journey.
"And what would I have to do for this?"
"Very little, all I ask if for some information of your country." Anger flooded Rion at the notion that he could be thought of as someone who would betray his country, and he forgot all his decisions about holding his tongue.
"I will tell you nothing! No matter what you may do to me! And if you hurt either myself or my friend you will find my 'foolish notions of duty' demand that I kill you." He glared at the king, expecting any moment to be struck. The only thing that struck him however was a soft chuckle from the king's lips.
The surprise calmed Rion, and he realised what a mistake he'd made. By bringing Mir into it he'd told them how much he meant to him. Now they would use Mir against him, hurting him to try and make him speak. By speaking rashly he'd put Mir in danger, and any pain they inflicted on him would be his fault.
"The cub shows his teeth," the king said, smiling, " but you tell as much by your refusal as you would an acceptance. So be it." He lifted his head to speak to the captain who still stood there. "Take the young prince back to his room."
Rion stood, puzzling over the king's comment, and allowed the captain to take him out into the corridor. His mind was flooded with thoughts and ideas. One thing seemed certain, that the king wanted to get information out of him and if he would stoop to kidnap he'd probably be willing to do worse things as well. If he didn't get away now and find Mir the chances were they'd never have a chance of getting out.
Four guards walked around him, two in front on either side, and two behind. One against four didn't give him very good odds, but if he waited the odds were likely to get worse, besides he had surprise on his side.
Rion moved suddenly, bringing his fist into the face of one of the guards behind him. The one next to him tried to grab him, but Rion was moving first, ducking under his outstretched arms and running. He could hear them behind him but didn't turn to look. He just ran.
Something slammed into his back and he fell flat on his face. The something, probably one of the guards, was still there, pinning him painfully to the ground. Rion struggled, but the guards seized his arms firmly and tied them tightly behind him. It was hopeless, and moments later Rion was hauled to his feet, and taken away, the guards holding him so he wouldn't escape again. It was all over so quickly, and now he wouldn't have another chance.
In his despair at the failed attempt, he didn't notice that someone was watching him curiously from a nearby doorway.
***
Author's note: What do you think? Please keep reviewing and I'll keep writing.