Light slowly filtered in to the world of Nbu. Its brilliance causing her to groan as her slitted eyes opened ever so slightly. Groggily she tried to sit up, and in so doing was introduced into a new world of pain as her head shifted. Holding it gingerly with both hands, she leaned forward, wincing as her stiff and painful back added its protest as well. After a short time as she became more awake, she realized two things very quickly, that she was very thirsty, and needed very much to empty her bladder.
In the following seconds as she looked around her for a means to either, the events of the night before came rushing back in vivid detail, as well as the horror of her current situation.
In a panic she looked around the room, its contents even dingier in the light of day. And rising she looked about the cell. Finding little hope of escape, but at least a small amount of relief, she moved towards the corner. It contained only a pile of hay, perhaps bedding material; and two buckets. One a wooden pail, of the kind one uses to draw water, about half full, and the other a rusty metal bucket, and its lingering stench spoke plainly of its use.
Looking about the room again, and straining her ears for any sound of watchers, she untied the laces at the front of her trousers, and lowered them, pulling aside also the loin cloth she wore under them, and squatted over the metal bucket. Here legs nearly giving under her, she leaned forward against the wall, supporting part of her weight with her hands, and began to urinate in the metal bucket. She winced slightly at first from the loud sound of urine hitting the metal, and then the splashing as she continued. Finishing, she pushed the bucket into the corner, careful not to slosh its contents on the floor, and pulled her trousers back up and began to tie them.
However, she panics when she sees the laces. The end of both are cut, and thinking for a moment, she assumes it to have been removing her knots. Panicking, she searched the interior pockets, accessible only with them untied and lowered, as well as the hems of legs, and several seams along their length to find each one of the tiny tools she had hidden away had been removed.
"So much for it being easy to pick the lock," she muses to herself. She ties the trousers on again in as secure of a knot as possible, and reaches for the water pail, bringing the small wooden dipper to her lips, and drinking. When she wipes her mouth with the back of her sleeve, she has to stifle a yelp, as the pain from her nose as she rubbed across it was severe.
Feeling about her face, she can feel the dried blood where her nose flowed freely, and can taste the dried crust of blood at the corners of her mouth.
"I've got to get out of here, NOW!" she screams inside her head, and stands, moving to the cell door, and reaches out and around to the locking mechanism. Feeling what her eyes cannot see, she slips her long right index finger nail into the keyhole, and begins to attempt to find the catches.
Some minutes later, she sighs in frustration, and retreats from the door. Without the proper tools, she just cannot open a lock of such complexity, for complex it was, expertly crafted and quite expensive. Moving around the rest of the cell in hopes of finding another way out, she examines the walls, floor, and ceiling as best she can.
There are no loose bars, no loose stones, and in fact, aside from evenly spaced inset eyes (for which to attach something, probably a chain, she thought with a shudder) she could not even find so much as a seam. Becoming quickly frustrated, and filled with screaming fear, she sat down again, and after a moment tears off the tail of her tunic, and dabbing the strip into some water, sets about to cleaning the dried blood off of her face as best she can, using the water in the pail as a crude mirror.
As she goes about the chore, that calm inner voice returns, and she begins to try to craft a plan for a way out. Figuring her jailer might return at any time, or might very well be in the room next door, or above, or even outside the door at this very moment, she decided against screaming for help, since she could not predict what the man might do if he heard her raise such a noise, and would try to silence her.
Neither could she burrow through wall nor floor, the stone was quite solid, and even the mortar of the floor resisted her best attempts. Perhaps there was merit in removing the handle of the metal bucket, and using it to try again at the lock, or maybe there was a sturdy enough stem or stick in the straw to use as an improvised lockpick. But she never got the chance to act as she suddenly heard the clatter and clicks as the outside door was being unlocked.
Her shaking hands dropped the bloodied cloth, but she stills them as best as she is able, forcing them to be still, she slows her breathing and tries to wipe the look of foreboding off of her face, as the door silently opens on well oiled hinges. Stepping inside is the galka from the night before, and she is able to get her first good look at him.
Incredibly tall, and massively wide, the man's hair is a wild shock of black, standing out in many directions nearly as bristles, and he had no mustache, yet a beard that went from one side of his hair all the way around to the other, under his chin. In his arms, he carried several packages, which he places on the table.
The silence in the room is broken when he turns and looks, in an oh so un-worried manner, and seeing her as though for the first time, speaks.
"Oh good, glad to see you got cleaned up and are looking well rested. I brought back some lunch if you'd like, and even have something sweet for desert, if you're good." He speaks in a calm and slightly cheery voice.
Shocked at his calm demeanor, she tries to respond in as even and unconcerned a voice as she possibly can. "Thank you but no, I really do have business elsewhere today, and would like to get to it. We can schedule lunch for later if you like." And hoping beyond hope that this insane person will comply, she leans calmly against the wall, and glances up at the lit window as if checking the angle of the sun for the time.
"Oh, that's a pity, but you won't be going anywhere. Certainly not today, and as for later, that depends on how well behaved you are." He replies, smiling a bit. He then begins to hum as he opens up one of the parcels, cutting the string with what Nbu recognized as her knife, dropped on the street earlier. He removes several containers of food, and sets them on the table. From another parcel he removes a collar, to which is attached a small silver bell.
He moves over to the bars of the cage, while Nbu stifles every urge she has to run, and remains leaning against the back wall, as calmly as possible. "I picked up something pretty for you today too," he says in a happy voice, "Special and just for you, come here and let me put it on and we can have lunch."
Her jaw dropping slightly and her temper flaring, she responds. "I will do no such thing, you won't put any collar on me, you crazy bastard, now let me out of here right now, and I'll just go, otherwise I will scream so loud the guard will come crashing down on this shithole faster than you can imagine!"
"Oh dear," he replies "You shouldn't have said that. I don't think you will be getting anything to eat for lunch, and probably no dinner either." Shaking his head as he walks back to the table to sit, he gently sets the collar down, and begins to pull out the containers of hot food, "And to think, I got you something so pretty, and so nice, and you are this ungrateful. You are really a very naughty kitty."
Her composure breaking, she leaps towards the wall closest to the window, and begins screaming up at it at the top of her voice, pounding her hands ineffectually against the stone walls. "Somebody help me! A crazy galka has me prisoner, get me out of here, now! Please, can anybody hear me! Let me out!" she screams, her voice shrieking in pitches no human's could ever reach. After nearly three minutes, red faced, and exhausted, her throat aching, she collapses to her knees by the wall, gasping for breath.
"That really won't do you any good," he states, as he cuts off a slice of roast mutton, before putting it into his mouth. "The walls, window, door, and even ceiling are warded with magical silence. I don't want unruly guests bothering the neighbors."
Her fist hits the wall one more time, and she lets out a muffled sob, as her head hits the wall as well. Around her frustrated tears, she squeezes out with her raw voice, "Please, just let me go."
Spearing a piece of potato with his knife, her captor looks over to her. "Oh, but I will, if you can just learn to behave properly. We can't have stray kitties wandering the streets at night, making havoc." He says, a hint of compassion and care in his voice. He pops the bit into his mouth and chews, watching her.
"No harm done, with your howling," He suddenly states, a bit of the cheery mood returning to his voice. Let me put your collar on, and then you can have some food, doesn't that sound good?"
Looking up at the man, Nbu decides he must be quite thoroughly insane, and that the best way through things might be to humor him. "Yes, I am very hungry, and that is a pretty, pretty, shiny collar." She chimes, trying to sound as upbeat as possible, but eying him, looking for some way to bring the man down in an effective manner.
"Oh good! I am glad you're coming around," he says, "Practically leaping from his seat, he picks up the collar and comes towards the bars of her cage. "My arms won't fit through the bars, so I will need to open the door. Be nice."
He unlocks the door to the cell, and stepping gingerly in puts out his empty hand. "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty. Come to me" he says in a high pitched voice a child might use trying to coax a pet from inside a drain pipe. "Nice and slow."
Slowly stepping forward, she gets within arm's reach of him, and closes her eyes, swallowing deeply, trying hard to repress her revulsion for the beast standing before her. She almost bolts when she feels the hand touch her shoulder, then that unyielding viselike grip returns. Not tight enough to bruise, yet strong enough to keep her firmly in his grasp, she knew the hand could tighten in an instant, and rock hard fingers dig their way to bone.
With his other hand, he brings up the collar, and places it around her neck. Releasing his shoulder grip, he uses both hands to latch it, cinching it into place. Not tight enough to cut off air supply, but tight enough to have little give, he seemed satisfied, and began to step backwards out of the cell door. And she began to follow after he had taken a few steps.
"No." He sternly says. "Kitty stays in her cage until she is well behaved all the time."
Thinking quickly, a gift she often used, she replies in her cheeriest and most fake voice. "But I-" correcting herself, "Kitty wants to come eat now, it smells so good." Liking her odds with one door or maybe a window between her and freedom, she hoped her gamble paid off, and would not make things worse.
Stepping back and slamming the door of the cell, her captor wags his finger at her. "No, no, that's people food. I have kitty food right here." He says opening another of the parcels, "Here we go, nice fresh raw tuna. And a nice bowl of milk, too"
Producing a small, shallow stone bowl, he ours milk into it from a flask, and picking up both the bowl and the tuna, he walks back to her cell. Placing both on the floor before the cell door, he pushes them under the small opening at the base of the door, no more than several small inches.
Staring at the food in shock, she manages to squeeze out a flat "Yum.". Nbu had no problem with fish, mind you, living in a coastal city it was a staple of her diet. But she did prefer it cooked and not raw. Though she could stomach raw fish, as all her kind could, she did not care for it at all. And milk… she just plain simply hated milk.
"Now eat up!" he said, sitting back at his table, and resuming his meal as well.
Looking at the unappetizing mess before her, she realized she really was hungry, and thought that if she could just get the man to trust her, he might give up the opening she needed to escape, she pushed aside her distaste, and began to eat the raw fish, and drank small amounts of the milk, making sure that she made more of a show of drinking it than actually doing so.
After finishing his meal, and noticing she was apparently done with hers, her captor came to the bars, and drug the remnants of the tuna and the bowl of milk back under the door. "Good kitty!" he praised her, "You're much more well behaved now."
And walking to the table, he bundled up the containers, and wrapping, and placing it under his arm, moved towards the door. "I'll be back later, kitty, be good." He said, as he closed the door behind him.
Sitting in the corner and sighing, Nbu decided to pass the time as best she could, trying to find an escape from her cell.