The first part of this chapter was submitted a LONG time ago - I fixed it up a bit and added more. There's more coming that was going to be part of this chapter, but I decided to keep it short, so that will be Chapter 5.
Still working on "Piranha," but I needed a break.
Rayman and Ly are both © Ubisoft. This story has nothing to do with them.
Ly the Princess
Chapter Four
Two months had passed. Once again Ly had managed to postpone the marriage, although she was running out of excuses. Her uncle, Lord Dorne, still holding on as Regent even though Ly had reached the age to take the crown two years ago, had let her get away with postponement only because he was too occupied with other matters to bother with an elaborate state wedding. She couldn't see how she would be able to justify it next time. It would be winter and there would be nothing else going on.
One night, thinking despondently about that winter wedding, as Ly slid into her satin-sheeted bed she was distracted by an unexpected soft crackle. What? The moment her servants left the room she felt around under the covers.
A little scrap of dirty paper. A nearly illegible note scrawled in rough charcoal. Something in the dungeons of the Tower you want to know about.
In the flickering light of her candle, Ly looked at the note for a long time, a cold clench at her chest. Who in the world could send her such a note? How could they get it into her room? What could it refer to? Who, for that matter, did she know that had such clumsy handwriting, or would use such an uncouth instrument?
Dungeons? The old, disused prison cells where she'd used to play scary games as a kid? What could be down there?
Abruptly she crushed the note in her hand. Her glance darted around the huge, dark, empty room.
She got out of the bed. Hands shaking a little, she pulled on a black body suit and a pair of leather gloves. She went to the big French windows, delicately forced open their half-rusted catches. Gingerly, she pushed one ajar, holding it steady to prevent any creaking. She slid out onto the stone balcony and examined the grounds below. No guards in sight.
Lithely she leapt up onto the stone railing around the balcony and paused, alert for any sound in the darkness. Then she took hold of a strong, prickly trunk of the ancient ivy that sprawled over the whole side of the castle from earth to roof, and with only a faint rustle slid under the thick leaves and up the vine.
A while later, her head emerged from under the leaves, just below the overhanging slate slabs of the castle roof. She clambered out of the scratchy, prickly ivy, and with some effort hauled herself up over the edge of the roof to sprawl onto the grey stone surface. She lay there for a few minutes, picking some of the prickles out of her skin, muttering certain un-princesslike expressions under her breath. Then on all fours she slunk softly across the wide roof, dropped down onto another nearby tower, and continued stealthily across the castle by roof and balcony.
At last she launched herself from the side of the building into the arms of a tall tree some distance away, just barely latching onto a branch. She swung down from bough to bough, crept across to the other side of the tree closer to a solitary tower standing somewhat apart from the rest of the castle, and from there, swinging from a branch by both hands, made a carefully calculated flip and scrambled through an open, unglazed window.
She landed on the floor in a heap. She looked up. In the small room lit only by a single candle, a stocky, late-middle-aged man of Ly's feline species was sitting at a table. He looked at Ly and shook his head.
"Did you have to come so late, Your Highness? I was about to go to bed."
Ly got up, brushing herself off. Her thick, blue-furred tail flicked with annoyance.
"I just got a note, Banda. I thought it might be from you."
"Just now? I sent it days ago. Those castle servants are worthless."
She was standing still, but her tail kept twitching like a cat's, her eyes darting into the dark corners of the room nervously. "Banda. You're wasting time. Tell me what you meant!"
Banda picked up the candle and walked to the door. "I'd rather not say. I'll show you, Princess, if you can prepare yourself for that kind of sight. We would have had to go at night anyway, when there aren't many guards, so it's all for the best. Put on one of those cloaks there, cover your face and hunch over a little, look feeble. And please keep silent. We don't need any of the guards downstairs knowing you've come by. Most of them were appointed directly by your uncle."
Her body cold with apprehension, she followed him out the door and down the steep, winding stone staircase that led into the depths of the prison tower.
For many years, Banda had been the head jailer for the Crown. He supervised all the prisons of the City. As they slowly descended the circular stairway that wound down the tower, passing quietly by a number of dormitories for prison guards and a few other employees, he murmured to Ly, "Things have changed a lot, you know, since you used to play with my little Flitch and Teecka. Flitch became a prison guard himself, Teecka married a farmer and lives out near Eaststone Valley."
"I know, I sent her a gift at her wedding."
"Ah yes, you did. That was a fine gesture. But after the passing of the King, may his memory live, things changed."
She felt that cold clench again. Something in her, longing to disbelieve. "Of course some things must change. That's natural."
"You haven't seen the dungeons in years, have you? Where you little ones used to run around and frighten yourselves? They've been opened up again."
Ly stumbled slightly. The flickering candle in her hand went out. She didn't speak while Banda relit it again from his own.
He led her quickly through the maze of underground cells spreading out far beyond the narrow Tower itself. It was very dark, lit only by the occasional wall torch and their own little candles. Misshapen, shifting shadows groped for them as they went by. The corridors were lined with rooms, some empty, with gaping doorways like hollow, blackened mouths, some barriered by massive wooden doors that looked grey, stained, and battered in the shadowy, unstable light. Ly passed by them quickly, staying close to Banda, hugging her cloak around her, shivering at odd creaks and thumps and other unidentifiable sounds that could be far away or perhaps very close... They hurried through corridor after corridor, down more flights of stairs, down into the deepest levels, deeper than she'd ever dared venture as a child, deeper than she could ever have imagined these man-made caverns to descend. Who could ever have needed so many? In her father's day, this entire place had been shut up as primitive and useless. A couple of small prisons scattered through the city was more than enough to take care of the handful of petty criminals that might need to be held.
She remembered strange instruments, dusty and rusted, that she'd seen in some of the dungeons. Banda's son had self-importantly told her their names, explained in gleefully gruesome detail how they'd been used in ancient times.
She shook her head, so hard she almost tripped herself. Ancient times. Ancient times. Her people had left such barbaric ways behind centuries ago.
She was so wrapped up in anxious thought that when Banda halted abruptly, she bumped into him, nearly setting his cloak on fire. He turned to look at her with a touch of irritation; but, as he glanced at the closed door beside him, his face became stony as the dungeon walls themselves. Ly shivered. He reached for the cover of a small peephole that would let them look into the cell. Convulsively, Ly blocked his hand.
"Banda," she whispered, hoarsely. "Please ... tell me what it is first."
His eyes, half-hidden by the cloak, looked at her sombrely in the flickering candlelight. He kept his voice very low. "I'm not sure what it is, Princess, but it seems to be something of yours."
"Something?"
"Someone."
She stared at him, breathing hard.
"He's been here for a couple of weeks. I couldn't get near him while they were busy with him. But they're done with him now. It's been several days I've been trying to get word to you. I don't think he's going to last much longer."
Ly swallowed, dryly. "But – what can we do with ... him?"
For the first time, Banda smiled a little. "You remember another of your old playrooms? It was a good hiding place."
But Ly scarcely heard him. She was looking at the door.