Did Kenric recognize Vistra?

Nope, he did not. (More on this during the next (one after this one) chapter, I believe.

What was Vistra doing at the palace? Was it part of some plan she had?

Plan? *sigh* Nope. Vistra was just acting like her stubborn self and decided to be foolhardy.

"I'm half hoping that Vistra and Kenric fall desperately in love and ride off into the sunset on the back of a white horse, while doves flutter gracefully above…"

While I can't promise you any white horses and doves, you may see a little….fluff within chapter 21.

Any connection between Nathan and present Tortall King Jonathan?

*feigned gasp* whatever gave you that crazy, peculiar, zany idea…

Why didn't Vistra just throw a dagger when she had the chance?

Well, she didn't want to risk parting with one of her weapons quite yet. Vistra was, surprisingly, showing some caution. She would have preferred to keep both of her knives in her hands then lose one.

A.N.: Sorry about the delay. This is that one chapter that I was referring to earlier, when I was warning you about how the situation may seem cliché. But oh well.

20. Prisoner

Nobles' Bane: Chapter 18

Something was prodding her shoulder.

Poke.

She turned onto her side and tried to ignore it.

Poke.

She turned onto her other side and let out a quiet groan.

Poke, poke, poke.

She suddenly opened her eyes and sat upright. "Stop it!"

The child, no more than eight years old, gave a shriek and ran back to the other side of the large cell, where her mother was sitting.

"Oh," Vistra sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

The child's mother smiled indulgently. "Didn't I tell you not to bother the lady while she was sleeping?"

The child lifted her head from her mother's shoulder, looked at Vistra, and then giggled.

A man, the oldest of them all in the cell, nodded to her. "We've saved you some food to eat."

She saw a plate of food near her. The plate had more than enough food, more than her share. She frowned. "All of that is mine? Are you sure? Did the child already eat?"

The old man nodded. "Yes, she's eaten."

"Well, have you?" Vistra asked. "You look as if you could use some more food." She grimaced, realizing how rude she sounded.

He shook his head. "I am old. I do not need much food. You, young'un, however, do need food. So eat."

She smiled kindly. "I am young, but not that young. If everyone else here has eaten, let us share a meal together."

The old man, satisfied with that, came over to join her by the plate of food.

"What do they call you?" he asked

She hesitated, wondering what she should say. Vistra? It seemed foolish to call herself that now, especially since Travis did not even recognize her. Lauryn? Did she want to open up old memories that way?

"Well, since you do not seem to know what they call you, I shall call you Jade. For the color of your sash."

She extended her head in acceptance.

"You are a member of Nobles' Bane," he said.

She felt a twinge in her chest. "Yes." Much good that did her, being locked up in a cell.

He folded himself into a deep bow. "My most profuse thanks, Lady Jade."

She blinked, surprised. "Your thanks? For what? And I am not a lady."

The man shrugged. "I am a commoner. I barely know how to read, much less write. As a result, I don't have a fancy vocabulary, like the nobles do. So I will give you the only title I can give you, which is 'Lady'."

"But that does not explain why you would even bother gifting me with a title and your thanks."

He gave her a look. "You are a member of Nobles' Bane. What other explanation do you need?"

"But I am of no use to you right now. Or anybody. I am locked up in Lord Travion's jail, the same as you are," she protested.

"That matters not. You have done things in the past. Perhaps not for me and my family, but for others with whom I have in things in common. And that has given me hope. Which," he quickly added when he saw her about to protest again, "is a great gift indeed."

Her shoulders slumped. "I still wish there was something I could do to get us out." But there wasn't. The soldiers had confiscated her knives and her pick set. She was completely shackled around the ankles, while the other prisoners remained free.

"Why are you in here?" she suddenly asked.

"My son, this child's father, displeased a lord with a passing comment. He was given a fine, which he could not pay. He was put into jail, and when we, his family, could not pay the fine, we joined him."

She glanced around the cell, noticing that there were no males other than the old man.

He saw her look. "They sold him as a slave about a week ago," he said quietly. "Just as they will to us, the rest of the family."

"I'm sorry," she said, feeling that her words were insufficient.

He studied her. "Yes. Yes, I do believe you are. You, too, have faced pain and loss." He slowly got to his feet. "The best of luck to you, Lady Jade of Nobles' Bane. No matter what happens. Good luck."

And somehow, his simple words meant more to her than any bag of gold that belonged to any noble.

She gave him an unsteady smile. "Thank you. Good luck to you and yours as well."

~*~*~

Her eyes opened as she shivered and clutched her arms around herself in an attempt to warm herself from the cold night air that settled into the cell.

But it wasn't the cold that had awakened her.

It was the child. She was crying muffled tears into her mother's arms. Her mother gently rocked the child back and forth, trying to soothe her but to no avail.

I don't blame you. I want to cry too.

Vistra wanted to roll herself into a ball in her corner and hide herself from the others. Just watching them made her feel their pain. But, instead, she started to sing.

"Sleep, my child

Sleep, my babe

I will protect you

And keep the nightmares away…"

At first her voice trembled and cracked, but then it grew steady. The child quieted and listened to Vistra's song as it headed into a well-known verse.

"When the night is too dark,

And the stars hide from your gaze,

Just reach out your hand

And I will chase your fears away"

She sang the chorus again, letting it not only comfort the child, but herself as well. And, amazingly, it was comforting. It was as if her singing had suddenly ignited a warm fire within the center of the cell. Even the child's mother and grandfather were sitting up and listening quietly.

"Dawn may seem far

And the night an endless cloak…"

Her voice suddenly broke as she realized what she was singing. The special verse. The one she had invented with her old family.

The invisible fire went out, and cold settled back around Vistra's bones. But she found that she could not continue singing. She shivered and bent her head over her drawn up knees.

Suddenly, a new voice, slightly hoarse and too quiet, rose above the silence.

"…But I will always be here

And safety… will always be near."

She gasped, and her breath positively echoed around the cell more than the singing had. She huddled more tightly into her ball, too afraid to glance up and, yet, still wanting to at the same time.

She heard the clang of the jail cell open. The crunch of boots on sand. The footsteps continued… and then stopped near her.

The ragged whisper she heard made her heart drop.

"Lauryn?"

She slowly lifted her head and saw Lord Travion standing there. She pushed herself onto her feet so that she wouldn't have to crane her neck to look up at him.

"Travis. How long have you been eavesdropping?" She was amazed at how steady her voice sounded to her ears. It did not at all match her clamoring heart.

"Not for as long as I would have preferred," he said to her surprise. "I had always loved your singing as a child," he added softly.

He remembers then…

Offering him a smile, she held out her hand for him to take.

But when he lifted his hand to grab hers, her hand sprang past his and reached for his sword hilt. Her other hand came up to his chest to push him away. As he stumbled, she knelt and grabbed his ankles, twisting.

Travis fell to the ground, and as he did, the sword came out of its sheath with a whispery sigh.

She stood over him, sword held straight in front of her and dangerously close to Travis' neck. She was prepared for him to make a move; after all, even without the sword, he had the advantage since both her legs were shackled.

But he did not try to defend himself.

She pressed the tip of the sword into his neck. "The keys. Toss them over there," she said as she motioned with her head.

He did so, quickly and efficiently, as if he weren't just giving away the keys to his home, jail, and office, but something insignificant.

She spared the old man who stood by the other side of the cell a glance. "Take the keys and your family and go."

He didn't move. Merely exchanged shocked looks between her and her hostage. "And what of you?"

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. Go."

He turned and slowly reached for the keys.

"Lauryn."

She flinched, still not used to hearing another call her by that name. "Don't--"

"You broke your promise."

She stared at him. "What promise?"

"You promised. To protect me. You said that you wouldn't let them hurt me."

Her mouth dropped open, and she felt the blood drain from her face. Her voice was barely audible when she spoke. "What?"

"Why didn't you help us? Why didn't you help Papa? Mama? Why didn't you help me?"

She stepped backwards as if to get away from him, but tripped over her dragging chains.

"Why didn't you keep your promise?" Travis' voice wasn't angry or hateful. It was quiet, resigned, perplexed. And hurt.

The sword clattered to the ground, tumbling out of her numb fingers.

The old man, his daughter-in-law, and his grandchild froze, just as they were about to unlock the cell gate.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she was whispering. She felt that it was an apology that was also directed to the old man and his family for her failure to stay strong. She had destroyed their chance of escape.

She was stupid and weak. Just as she had been sixteen years ago.

"Just let them go, Travis. They don't deserve to be here." She lifted her gaze and met his blue eyes. "Let them go and I will go with you to General Aleyn willingly."

The child gave an audible gasp.

Travis slowly got to his feet. He knelt down to pick up his sword.

And then sheathed it.

Well, it's not like he needs it anyway. I won't be fighting him now.

And then he spoke, his voice quiet and, yet, fierce. "No."

She shook her head. "I'm serious, Travis. Let them go and I will be a docile prisoner."

"No, Lauryn. I cannot allow that."

"Travis, please--"

"No, Lauryn." He knelt down beside her. "I cannot allow you to be a docile prisoner."

She stared at him, confused. "What? You want me to be an angry prisoner?"

He suddenly laughed, and the laugh warmed her cold body. He put a hand over her own and pulled her gently to her feet.

"No. You will not be a prisoner at all. Because we're all going to be escaping this prison together."