Did you know this chapter is nine pages and 3,845 words long in Microsoft Word?!
This chapter was actually very challenging for me to write. I've sat down several times each day trying to get this chapter to roll forward like thunder and conclude so I could post it, but for some reason, it was choppy in my mind and did NOT want to be written.
However, with wonderful encouragement, I was able to pound it out! I hope it's as up to par as the previous chapters, because I'm not entirely happy with it, but I'm not completely unhappy with it, either. To be honest, I'm just glad it's written! ;)
CHAPTER SONG: "The Catalyst" by Linkin Park
Disclaimer: Apparently I failed the test. I can't paint with all the colors of the wind. So I do not own it.
Shadows Cast
A Pocahontas fanfiction
By doodlegirll
.:Dedicated to Kayla:.
...oOo...
All was quiet as Thomas and John Rolfe made their trek through the dark, deserted streets of London, slowly making their way towards the looming Tower in the distance, where John Smith awaited them. As they reached the center of London, they slowed their run to a light jog, quickly seeking shelter in the shadows of an alleyway. John Rolfe leaned against the wall of building, while Thomas quickly surveyed their surroundings. After a few moments, he returned to the darkness of the shadows.
"We're clear." He informed Rolfe. "I think we've got a clear shot to the docks nearby."
"Let's hope there's a rowboat." Rolfe said, a slight huff to his breath. Thomas couldn't help but smirk; obviously aristocracy was without fitness.
After a few more moments catching their breath and making sure the coast was clear, they made a break towards the direction of the docks. A wispy fog had begun to snake its tendrils throughout the streets nearest the Thames, and Rolfe felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise up.
He shook his head, telling himself not to be such a child afraid of the night. He was doing this for Pocahontas, because he loved her, and she loved him, and he had promised to bring him back to her. He couldn't let something as common and docile as fog send him scurrying home empty handed.
Still, the fog allowed for an air of mystery to surround the two men as they procured a small, slightly creaky rowboat. They quickly untied it from the docks, and jumped inside, each man operating an oar.
"So let's go over this plan of yours again." Thomas whispered as they rowed into a thick cloud of the fog.
"Alright," Rolfe answered. "As soon as we reach the Tower and enter through the water gate, we'll most likely be asked who we are and what our business is, especially this late into the night. I'm more likely to be recognized than you are, but the cloak should help hide my identity long enough for us to gain entry, and if that doesn't work...Well, London is a big place. Only a few guards will be posted at the gate, so we should be able to handle them easily enough. Once we've subdued them, we'll steal their uniforms and assume their identities. From there, we should be able to locate Smith and sneak him out."
Thomas stole a glance at Rolfe from the corner of his eye, admiring the confident tone the older man possessed. While he wasn't entirely doubtful of Rolfe's proposition, he did doubt their ability to execute it properly and without conflict. John's life was on the line, and he wasn't entirely sure he was willing to bet with those odds.
And Pocahontas. What would become of her if they failed? Thomas had been the one to break the news to her of John's "death" nearly a year ago, and the look on her face – a look of astonishment, disbelief, and complete devastation – would haunt his memory for all eternity. He couldn't bear to put her through that again.
For some time, the two men rowed onwards in silence, not daring a word, lest they be heard. Eventually, after a good half hour of rowing, the Tower just ahead, looking all the more menacing with the fog now completely obscuring the top spires from view.
"Alright, Brown," Rolfe stopped rowing and rummaged around at the bottom of the boat, finding a spare rope underneath their feet. "Are you ready?"
Thomas nodded, and offered Rolfe his wrists, which the man promptly tied together, though not tight enough that Thomas couldn't escape should the need arise.
Rolfe then took both oars, and the boat, slower this time, made its way onward.
Finally, the fog cleared somewhat, and the two men could clearly see the water gate into the belly of the Tower. Taking a deep breath, Thomas made sure his face was hidden, and they made their way inside.
"Halt!" A voice, sharp and clear, reverberated though the small space as Rolfe docked the rowboat. "Who goes there?!"
"John Jones, sir." Rolfe lied, standing to his feet. "I bring a prisoner. I believe he is associated with John Smith." He yanked on the rope around Thomas's wrists, and the younger man winced slightly as the rope pulled tighter and chaffed at his skin.
The two guards stationed looked at them suspiciously. Rolfe prayed that neither of the men had encountered him before, and thus wouldn't recognize him.
They didn't.
"An 'ow do you know he's wit John Smith?" One of the guards, a man with a bushy reddish colored mustache, asked.
"I was out taking a stroll past the palace when I saw a cart driving off and the guards talking about John Smith being found and captured alive." Rolfe explained as he climbed the small stairs to the floor of the Tower, pulling Thomas behind him. "After the wagon rode off, I caught this one still sneaking around, and figured he must have something to do with Smith. Can't get anything out of him, though."
The other guard nodded. "Very well." He said. "John Smith is currently being interrogated, and Governor Ratcliffe is awaiting his submission in the courtyard. We'll inform him of this, and if what you say is true, we will contact you."
"Very good, sirs." Rolfe said cheerfully. "Glad to know I may be helping bring another tyrant to justice."
The mustached guard held out his hand for Rolfe to place the rope, the other coming up behind Thomas, noting his cloak curiously, and Rolfe saw their only chance.
"Now!"
Thomas spun around, catching the guard off guard, and pulled his hands from the rope that bound them, swiftly punching the guard in the cheek, Rolfe following suit in a similar manner with the other guard. Both fell like stones, and Thomas delivered a swift kick to their heads – not enough to kill them, but enough to ensure their unconsciousness for at least a few hours.
After making sure no other guards had heard them, they each grabbed a man and dragged him into a tiny cell at the far end of the room, where they proceeded to quickly strip them of their uniforms.
"Are you sure this will work?" Thomas asked as he carefully adjusted the armor, placing the helmet over his red hair. He felt a knot growing in his gut as he thought about his friend being interrogated, and the means of which he had no doubt were painful.
"It's the only chance we have," Rolfe answered as he bundled his fancy ball clothes tightly and tossed them into the bottom of the rowboat. He nodded towards the dark stairs at their right, which undoubtedly led upwards towards the holding cells and torture chambers. "We'll go that way. We can't run, or they'll know something is up. We have to carry on as though we are making our rounds, nothing more. Once we find him, we'll proceed from there."
"Right, then." Thomas said. "Let's go."
As they passed the door to the staircase, Rolfe spied a ring of keys hanging from a hook on the wall, and quickly grabbed them, securing them tightly to his belt.
They made their way up the stairs and into the hallway. Thick, heavy doors lined the hall in front of them on either side, though as they walked past, they noticed that most were unoccupied. As they rounded the corner, they were met with another pair of guards as they walked past. Thomas felt himself tense, despite his better judgment, and the paralyzing fear that he and Rolfe could be found out rushed down his spine like a wave crashing the shore. But as the guards gave them nothing more than a friendly nod as they passed, Thomas allowed himself to relax, letting out a sigh of relief.
If Rolfe noticed his internal struggles, he did not show it. Instead, his brown eyes were focused intently on the hall in front of him, every once in a while flicking to take in the occupants of the cells as they passed. None of them were John Smith.
"Do you know where we're going?" Thomas whispered.
Rolfe shook his head. "Not a clue." He admitted. "Just keep looking."
They continued on down the hall, towards another set of stairs that would take them to the next level.
"We're running out of time…" Thomas muttered as they advanced the floor. "The guard at the water gate said that John was being interrogated."
Rolfe nodded in agreement. "You're right." He stopped, holding out his arm, blocking Thomas's path. Thomas opened his mouth to ask him what was wrong, but Rolfe shushed him, his eyes narrowed and suspicious.
"Shh!" He hissed. "Listen!"
Thomas listened intently for a few seconds, but shook his head. "I don't hear anything."
Rolfe's eyebrows furrowed, and he listened for a few more moments before he pointed to their right.
"This way!"
The two took off running, Thomas right behind Rolfe, towards the end of the hallway, where Rolfe made a right turn. Thomas was thankful that they encountered no other guards patrolling the area; he was certain that if they found them running, their charade would be shattered, and they, too, would be apprehended, and then what hope did John have?
Thomas nearly rammed into Rolfe as he suddenly came to a stop, once more holding out his arm, a finger to his lips to indicate quiet. Thomas straightened the helmet on his head, which had nearly fallen off in the force of the stop, and looked at Rolfe, peeved.
Just as he was about to open his mouth to ask Rolfe what the hell he thought he was doing, he heard it: a low groan, along with the sound of chains clattering, could be heard coming from the cell to their right. Rolfe pointed to it, and Thomas nodded. They calmly made their way forward, slowly, and Rolfe peered into the cell from the bars atop the door.
"Well?" Thomas asked.
Rolfe turned to look at him, his face solemn. "He's inside." He said, a grim undertone to his voice. "There's blood everywhere, but he's breathing." He fiddled with the keys on the ring for a few moments before finally deciding on one, and fitted it into the lock. There was a click, and the door opened effortlessly.
John's limp body was dangling from chains that hung from the rafters of the cell, kneeling in a thin puddle of blood. The tattered remains of his shirt hung around his shoulders, barely covering him, and even from where they stood, they could see that he was trembling as he heaved for breath, another groan of pain escaping him as he did so.
The two men entered the cell quickly, without bothering to close the door behind them completely. Thomas hurried to his friend's aid while Rolfe peered outside the bars once more, making sure no one was within earshot, before he, too, joined Thomas at John's side. To their horror, it became immediately clear as to where the source of the blood that stained the walls and floor originated.
John's back was reduced to little more than a bloody slab, the wounds that stitched across his back oozing blood from beneath the scabs that begun to form, some of which were violently ripped from their seems at the smallest of movements that John made. Deep, dark bruises extended around his torso like the tentacles of a fearsome sea beast, and while none of the lashes were bleeding profusely, it was obvious that he lost a severe amount of blood in the process of the torture inflicted upon him, and they needed to get him out and to a place where he could rest and recover, and they needed to do it fast.
"Oh God, John?" Thomas whispered, slowly reaching out a hand and laying it on his friend's shoulder, shaking gently. "John, it's me. Wake up!"
John moaned again, and, with great difficulty, raised his head. His blonde hair, damp and stained various shades of red and orange from the blood that covered him, clung to his forehead and hung in his eyes as he opened them, blinking away the agony and confusion.
"Thomas," he rasped.
"Aye, it's me. We're going to get you out of here." Thomas nodded over his shoulder at Rolfe. His eyes roamed to the manacles adorning John's swollen and bruised wrists, and he looked at Rolfe. "Is there a key on that ring that could fit in the lock? We need to get these off of him."
Rolfe fiddled with the keys, finally locating one slightly smaller than the others, and he tried it in the lock of the cuffs. Thankfully, it fit, and the cuff opened. John instantly slumped forward, almost falling, moaning in pain as he did so, and Thomas quickly moved to support him as Rolfe worked the key into the other shackle.
"I've got you, John." Thomas assured his friend, who seemed to be having a hard time withstanding consciousness as Thomas struggled to stabilize him without coming into contact with his injured back. "I need you to stay with me, alright? You've got to try and stand."
"Ratcliffe…" John wheezed through clenched teeth as Thomas hoisted him upwards onto his feet, albeit shakily. "He's…going to kill them…all of them…" He winced as his footing slipped in the blood on the floor, and Rolfe grabbed hold of his other arm to steady him.
"It's alright. We'll stop him." Thomas grunted as the three men slowly began their way towards the door. "I promise."
John shook his head, and gave a small cry of pain as another lash was pulled taut, squeezing his eyes closed so tightly fresh tears began to course down his face.
"Pocahontas…" He began.
"She's safe." Rolfe said as he readjusted John's weight on his shoulders. "She's back at my estate. She's waiting for you."
"Ratcliffe. He wants to…"
"He's not going to harm her." Rolfe said curtly, his hold on John tightening, cutting him off. "I won't let him."
He saw Thomas glance at him from the corner of his eye, but he chose to ignore the younger man's knowing look, and they paused at the door of the cell for a brief moment to glance outside. Rolfe could neither see nor hear any other guards near them, but he had a sneaking suspicion that the situation could change within an instant if they weren't prepared. He looked back at Thomas.
"The coast is clear," he informed. "But if we encounter anyone, we should be prepared to offer some sort of excuse. It's most likely the talk of the floor that he's here. The last thing we need is to have a faulty alibi."
Thomas nodded in agreement, but paused for a moment. "And what if we run into Ratcliffe? What then? He's definitely likely to recognize me; he never did care for me much."
Rolfe shrugged slightly. "We don't have very many options within our arsenal, Brown." He sighed. "We're just going to have to be careful, quiet, and pray to the Lord above that no one stops us."
He looked at John, whose blue eyes, while still glazed over slightly with shock, were becoming clearer as the situation began to settle itself within his hazy mind. For a brief moment, their gazes met, and Rolfe wondered, for the thousandth time that night alone, just why, at its simplest core, he was here now, jeopardizing everything he had ever worked for, everything his family had ever stood for and had, for one man.
She loves him. He reminded himself. You're doing this for her.
"Smith," he said. "You're going to have to cooperate with us in this. We're going to have to make this look legitimate."
John said nothing, but the nod of approval told the men that he was willing to lend as much as he had left.
"Let's go." Thomas whispered. "We're wasting time."
He and Rolfe carefully settled John's arms about their shoulders, and the three of them trudged forward into the hall, leaving the bloodstained cell behind them.
Slowly, but surely, they made their way down the stairs that would take them to the lower level of the Tower's infrastructure, making sure to watch and listen for other guards as they did so. John, still having a hard time walking on numb legs, tried as best he could to go along with them, but the moment he straightened himself, he nearly fell as the lashes extending to every corner of his back pulled, many of those that had scabbed reopening. Fresh blood began to trickle down his skin, staining what little was left of his cotton shirt.
As he grappled for a hold on consciousness, one thought managed to wrestle its way forward: Pocahontas. She was safe, and she was waiting for him. And as hurt as he was, John was not deaf; he had heard the tone that Rolfe's voice held when he had insisted that he would allow no harm to come to her. It was plain to him, familiar to him; Rolfe was in love with her.
Sparks of jealousy began to make their way into his mind, sending stabs of it into his heart, but he quickly pushed them away as a wave of nausea nearly overtook him, and groaned as he tasted the vomit mingling with the taste of rust at the back of his throat. Dizziness swelled around his head and into his eyes, and he stumbled, falling to his knees on the cobblestone floor. Thomas and Rolfe lurched forward in their struggle to sustain his sudden fall, catching him awkwardly.
After a few moments, the dizziness subsided, and John blinked away the dots swimming in his vision. Willing away the pain radiating into every bone in his body, he forced himself to stand.
"Are you alright, John?" Thomas whispered.
John shook his head as red blotches began to invade his vision, but before he could open his mouth to speak, a voice interrupted them from down the hall.
"You there!"
The three men looked up, startled, their eyes wide, to find a Tower guard approaching them, his face set and hard. He eyed Rolfe and Thomas suspiciously, and his eyes were drawn to John's bloody appearance. John kept his face downcast, knowing that he was much more likely to be recognized, if he hadn't already.
The guard finally reached them, and Thomas felt his heart quicken dangerously in his chest. He took a deep breath, reminding himself to remain calm and composed.
You're doing your job, he reminded himself. You're a guard, doing your job.
"What do you think you're doing?" The Tower guard asked them, his hand straying to the hilt of his sword. "John Smith is to be interrogated until he agrees to cooperate."
Rolfe stood up straight and gestured to John.
"Escorting this prisoner from the premises." He explained. "We have orders from the King. He wishes to speak with Smith himself."
The guard's eyes narrowed, and he looked at John. "Why is he not properly restrained?"
Thomas winced slightly, and cast a glance at Rolfe, whose face remained calm as he said, "I do not believe him to be fit enough to put up much fight." He said smoothly. "Besides, how far can he possibly go?"
The guard, after a moment's consideration, nodded.
"True." He agreed. "However, why would the King wish to see him on such notice after having just sent him to be interrogated? Should it not be Governor Ratcliffe that escorts him to the palace?"
"Governor Ratcliffe has already been informed and is awaiting further orders." Thomas finally spoke, thankful that his voice did not falter as he did so. He was beginning to grow less anxious and more concerned for his friend's wellbeing as the conversation dragged on. "Now if you'll excuse us, we have a mission to complete. Wouldn't want to keep the King waiting, now would we?"
"Of course," the guard stepped aside, allowing them room to pass. "My apologies. Good day to you."
"And you." Rolfe replied, hoisting John upwards once more, minding that he did so carefully so as not to agitate the wounds.
With that, the three men resumed their trek forward, down the hall and away from the guard's prying eyes and suspicious mind.
After some time, they finally reached the staircase that would take them back to the water gate. John heaved for breath, and his companions released their holds on his arms for a brief moment to allow him a chance to compose himself.
"We're almost there." Rolfe whispered. "Once we reach the lower level, we can climb into the boat we left and be on our way. Not much further now."
John nodded, clutching at his ribcage, his eyes now much clearer than they had been previously, though still holding signs of obvious shock and exhaustion.
"And…then?" He questioned between breaths.
"We return to my estate, where we will tend to the wounds you've sustained and go from there." Rolfe said. "We need to hurry. It'll be dawn soon, and once Ratcliffe gets wind that you've escaped, he's bound to come looking for you."
Thomas shook his head.
"Not likely." He said. "Ratcliffe is much more likely to lie than to admit defeat."
John nodded his approval. "Thomas is…right." He wheezed. He moaned as pain once again crashed into him as though being struck by a bucket of cold water, and he fought the urge to be sick, clutching his stomach tighter.
Rolfe sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"We're running out of time." He said, mostly to himself. "We need to get out of here."
Once more the two of them took hold of John's arms, and they slowly descended the stairs until they finally emerged at the water gate. To their relief, upon a quick glance, the two guards that Rolfe and Thomas had subdued were still blissfully unconscious, unaware of the treasonous act that was being performed around them. Thomas quickly retrieved his cloak from the bottom of the rowboat that still sat at the dock, patiently awaiting their return, and draped it around John.
"So that anyone who sees us will think we're escorting a drunkard home and nothing more." He explained when Rolfe gave him an inquisitive look as he quickly disposed of the guard's uniform and changed back into his own clothing. "And to hide the lashes on his back so that no one becomes suspicious."
Rolfe shook his head, and the two men helped to gently assist John into the boat.
Once they were certain the coast was clear, Rolfe untied the rope tethering the boat to the dock, and shoved off, quickly taking an oar.
Their mission complete, they three men quietly slipped into the dissipating London fog, just as the first rays of sunlight began to grace the horizon.
Once again, I'm not entirely happy with this chapter; I almost feel as though my writing is off-key.
Still, I'd love to hear your input! Love it? Hate it? Let me know in the reviews below!