Chapter 6: Trouble, Getting Out
Joren hung on the chains limply, his slim form like a puppet on strings. His wrists ached like hell, but at this point, they weren't enough to distract him from the various cuts scored on his torso. The back was the worst physically, cut as it was in ribbons with steel whips. Emotionally, however… No! Joren refused to think about it.
Robert, apparently, got off on pain, and was an expert in the art of inflicting it. By the time he finished with Joren, the boy was ready to sell his mother's soul, (as he wasn't sure he had any) for the momentary peace unconsciousness would bring. But Robert had also cast a spell that prevented Joren from fainting. His throat was hoarse from screaming, and probably dehydration as well, although the blood loss will probably kill him faster. The stream of blood dripped down his chest, back and thighs, onto the floor beneath him, so that he has an even harder time maintaining his footing.
Joren didn't know what time it was, as the room was windowless and completely dark. Robert didn't even leave him a single candle. If he had any energy left, he would have been panicking right now, as he was never comfortable in pitch blackness. He had stopped hoping for rescue, thinking that Lady Alanna might have found Neal's body by now, and would probably think Joren is in the same state. He couldn't try to escape anyway, having lost the will to live. He couldn't imagine going home and facing everyone after this.
Suddenly, a small shaft of light penetrated the gloom of the chamber. It didn't register to Joren until a carved panel of the wall swung outward, and somebody crawled out with a small ball of yellow light. Joren's heart leaped, thinking Neal. He's alive! But the boy who stood up bore little resemblance to his partner.
"Shh. Reginald sent me to free you. Try not to make any noise, ok?" Joren nodded, watching the boy slowly heal the worst of his cuts. "I can't 'eal everything, 'coz I'm not trained, and we need to move fast."
With a lockpick, the boy named Marek carefully opened the chains and wrapped Joren with a blanket he carried with him. Then he carried the unresisting boy towards the opened panel, careful not to drip blood on the floor. He placed Joren inside, instructing him to crawl after the moving ball of light, while Marek brought up the rear. Joren moved as if in a trance, with the occasional nudge from Marek spurring him on.
At the end of the small tunnel, Reginald's face greeted Joren, and he was slowly eased out and brought to the bed. He was in the same bedroom that Reginald took him before. The windows outside told him it was late afternoon. He wanted to go to sleep, but the two hovering around him wouldn't let him. Marek spoon-fed him soup, while Reginald cleaned and examined his wounds. His touch was clinical, and yet Joren felt panic rising in his chest. He only breathed when Reginald finished and made him change into different clothes.
"You will end up with scars, child, but you'll make it." Reginald's voice was compassionate, although his face revealed nothing. "I can't heal you, but once you are free, you can contact a trained healer." Joren half-thought that he was dreaming all these, and his body still hung in chains while his mind hallucinated.
After the hot food had revived him, and assured his sanity, Reginald outlined the plan to Joren. He gave him a long letter to be given to his spymaster about his brother's schemes, while explaining to Joren that he himself was a prisoner that his brother used. He also led Joren to another secret passage that led to the stables. Marek found a way to disguise Joren's distinguishable features with a hat and several coats. He was also told to leave the horses in the stable alone, but that there was a blue roan three houses away that he could use.
He was to leave at that moment, while Robert was holding a meeting with his cohorts in another house. Reginald's twin put him under lock and key, plus many guards to insure that only one of them can be seen by the people of Corus at any given time. Apparently, that was important to their plan.
Before Joren left, however, he asked about Nealan. Reginald's face was inscrutable.
"I'm not sure, child. Robert questioned the guards who went after your friend. I don't want to give you false hope, but I haven't seen those men since. If they had failed and your friend managed to escape, Robert will surely have disposed of them." Joren allowed that tiny hope to burn in his heart.
He was led to another of the panels, and some sequence was pressed by Reginald before it opened into a dark stairway.
"May Mithros bless you." Marek whispered to him, giving Joren a small burst of energy before guiding him down the tunnel. Ten torturous long minutes later, he uncovered a large floorboard in the stables. Soon after, he spotted the horse being held by a younger boy who looked like Marek.
He walked towards it casually, as if he didn't have a care in the world. With a pounding heart, he thanked the boy before mounting up the horse with a slight grimace. "I'll pay you back somehow, friend." He murmured to him, but the child only grinned up at him and left with a wink. Up on the horse, Joren felt a surge of hope fill him, as he went off on a slow walk towards Sir Myles' home. Still tired and hungry, and sore in a certain place, he wasn't in the mood to meet anyone else he knew, and Myles would be the best person to ask about Nealan.