"Baurus, lock that door behind us!" called a woman's voice, and Carolara snapped awake. Torchlight shone from the stairway down into the prison and the Breton sat up groggily, picking pieces of hay from her bed out of her hair.
A few more words were spoken that she couldn't make out over the sound of the door being secured. Curious to a fault she got up and went to the bars, putting her face against them so she could see as much as possible.
"We don't know that, Sire." The owner of the voice that woke her finally came into view; small in stature, a Breton like she was. To her side came a dark-skinned Redguard, both clad in the same armor, of a make she'd not seen before. "The messenger only said they were attacked."
Coming to the foot of the stairs last was the man she was talking to, and Carolara's eyes widened in recognition. Old and dressed in lavish robes; the Emperor himself, Uriel Septim the Seventh. She'd only seen him in person from a distance and it had been a few years, of course, but there was no mistaking that dignified face and voice. "No," he was saying, his voice grave. "They're dead. I know it."
The armored Breton woman sighed. "My job right now is to get you to safety-" Her eyes met Carolara's and she looked quite angry, turning to look back up the stair. Down came one more man dressed like the other two, along with the Imperial jailor, fussing with his keys, and she pointed right at the latter. "What's this prisoner doing here?" She demanded.
"Well you see, Ma'am," Carolara smiled at her, "I got caught thieving."
"No one is supposed to be in this cell!" the woman shouted, completely ignoring her.
The jailor looked like a cornered deer, stammering, "Usual mix-up with the Watch, Captain Renault, sir. I-I..."
"Nevermind." The woman, apparently called Renault, shook her head. She glanced over her shoulder, a worried look on her face for only a fraction of a second before she was barking out another order. "Get that gate open." She frowned at Carolara. "Stand back, prisoner. We won't hesitate to kill you if you get in our way."
Hands up, palms visible, Carolara began walking backwards, checking over her shoulder every so often as she went. "Right, best not get in your way then. Afraid I haven't had much time to tidy up the place for important company, though."
"Silence," The jailor was unlocking the bars now, eyeing her carefully. "Stand aside. Over by the window." The small Breton continued up until her back met the wall, still smiling the whole way, more than a little confused. The cell door came open and Renault strode in ahead of the rest, peering up through the window suspiciously and barely regarding the prisoner's curious gaze. The Captain nodded back to her men and then laid her hand upon one of the wall's smooth stones. A simple press revealed the hidden mechanism, and a large part of the wall slid open to reveal a door.
Carolara let out a low whistle, attracting the eyes of the gathered men. "Wish I'd known about that..." Renault flashed the jailor a glare at those words, hinting that he'd barely avoided serious trouble. The other men and the Emperor entered the cell as well, the jailor locking the bars behind them and retreating back up to his post. The Emperor was third to go through the door, just behind the Captain and one of the others, pausing when his gaze met Carolara's but only for a moment and she thought she saw him smile at her before he turned away.
"Sir, the door, it won't lock..." The Redguard, bringing up the rear, was stuck fussing with the door.
Renault called back, "No time. Keep moving."
He didn't seem pleased about it but he shrugged, glancing to Carolara. "Looks like today is your lucky day," his tone was slightly begrudging, but he seemed tense and anxious to catch up to his party. "Just stay out of our way."
"Don't worry," She smiled, slipping her skinny wrists right out of her irons with practiced ease. "I won't mess up my one shot. Oh, and good luck to you, too. Wherever it is you're going."
The Redguard replied grimly, already walking into the darkness of the tunnel, "Gods know we need it."
Carolara thought at first to wait a bit, give the group some time to get ahead. But then she looked back around at her once-more empty cell and sighed. It turned out that even after years, a few more minutes did make a difference. On top of that, the jailor could come back and decide to put her in another cell that didn't have a convenient escape tunnel attached to it, and that was a dreadful thought indeed. Telling herself to just take it slow so she wouldn't run into them, she went ahead into the dank and pitch dark tunnel, wishing very much that she had a pair of shoes. No, Carolara Moorhart was never quite so lucky for that. All she had was a ragged dress of sackcloth to protect her from the elements and the tunnels were much colder than her cell. The sight of sunlight, the feel of grass; the hope for these things kept her moving forward.
But then something sprung her to a bit more urgency; the sound of clashing steel and battle-cries from ahead. Staying out of sight and crouching low the Breton was able to catch sight of the fight, small body curled up behind a pillar and barely peeking out. She saw the Emperor; a dagger in his hand but holding back behind his armored guards. They were being attacked by figures in red robes who threw fire from their hands.
Carolara bit her lip. She wanted to help somehow, but she didn't have any weapon whatsoever and had never been a hand-to-hand fighter or, despite what many assumed about Bretons in general, a magicka user. And would that count as 'getting in the way'? But as she weighed her options the battle worked itself out, the men in robes lying dead on the floor.
"Clear, for now," said the Redguard, staring around with his bloodied sword still out, ready to pounce if another emerged. He looked back to his Emperor. "Sire, are you alright?"
But Uriel Septim was gazing off somewhere their eavesdropper could not see, and one of the men went over that way. "Captain Renault?" He inquired.
"She's dead," came the reply. "I'm sorry, Sire, but we have to keep moving."
"There's trouble ahead," was the last thing Carolara heard the Emperor say as they walked out of earshot. She heard a metallic sound, and slipped hesitantly out of hiding to see that they'd shut, and locked, a large brass door behind them.
Her fellow Breton was lying still on the ground, still clutching at her katana. Apologizing softly, Carolara claimed the spare shortsword on Renault's belt; the large curved blade left alone out of both respect and preference for the lighter weapon. She then turned her attention to the bodies of the assailants, turning them over and checking them for gold or anything valuable. Once she did manage to get out of this underground system, she was going to need supplies and passage. Where would she go next, she mused as she sorted through each one. Valenwood sounded nice. She'd always loved the forest, and it was the greatest of them all... best of all it was warm and lush year-round.
The red-robed men didn't seem to have anything on them but their robes and knives, and no lockpicks to her disappointment. When the Breton straightened up again she could only see one alternative route around the door they'd locked; yet another dank dark tunnel.
Steeling herself, and unable to shake the feeling that something was waiting for her ahead, Carolara proceeded. She had no other choice.