Holy crap guys. I' m back again with chapter 19 this time. This chapter for some reason took me four days to write. I kept trying to write it, but then I would just hit a block and would be unable to keep going. You might even be able to see it in the chapter if the sentence structure shifts slightly. Personally this is my least favorite chapter so far just because of how hard it was for me to write. Basically it's a plot chapter with no action and a lot of stuff.

So this chapter I wrote listening to the band White Penumbra. I really encourage you guys to check them out on soundcloud. They only have a few songs, but I've been listening to them endlessly.

So read and enjoy this chapter guys.

Chapter 19

The air settled around him. The silence was brooding. They had left him alone and he had no idea why. There was nothing he had done. No proof he had committed any crime or anything like that. All there was were the words of one man and one man only. And as far as he could tell that could be overturned quite easily. His friends would have the ability to get him out of here. There was no one with more say than Perdita or Mareth or Eisen. And of course Luxa. As soon as she found out, someone was going to get hurt. A small crept across his face. He was in good hands.

His arm throbbed from the gash in it and his body ached from the beating the guards had laid on him. Blood ran a slow course down his arm from the wound, but he could nothing about it. His arms ached and his back and stomach were filled with pangs of hurt if he moved to suddenly.

The cell they had put him in was small. Smaller than any other he had ever been in or seen. And there was nothing in it. The floor was cold stone. The walls all made of stone. The ceiling stone. They held the cold, unmoving air inside and the cell felt as if it was cooling down each and every second. He could feel goose bumps rising up and down his arms and his body started a slow shiver. It was impossible for him to try to warm himself up because his hands were bound in front of him with leather bonds that bit into his wrists.

He tugged against them, but it only caused them to dig in deeper. He brought them to his mouth and tried to bite through them, but the leather was much too thick. His blades were gone, so that ruled out cutting them apart. The door fit so tightly into the wall that not even a smidgen of light came into the cell, no new air, no sound could penetrate the thickness of it. He yelled for a blanket or for someone to lose his bonds, but if they heard him they didn't come.

Gregor swore. And he swore again. And again and again. He brought his head down between his knees and bit his lip to stop from screaming. He was going to lose his mind and he hadn't even been in the cell for more than a few minutes. Imprisonment wasn't so bad if you could use your hands, but that was almost impossible for him to do. All he could do was probably eat and use the bathroom.

The corner was an easy place for him to curl up into a ball. His back fit nicely, and he pulled his knees up to his chest and between his arms. Anything he could do to keep some body heat. A small rumble left his stomach and he realized that he hadn't eaten in quite a while. And now here he was unsure when he would be fed, if that would ever happen. Things just seemed to keep getting worse.

He shook and twisted at the bonds and cried out in pain when the cut into his skin. A small trickle of blood ran down his thumbs and dripped onto the floor, joining the small pool that was already there. He watched the small drops fall from his fingertip and hit the floor with a small splash. His eyes clenched shut and he tried to force himself to not hear. He didn't want to see his predicament. He wanted to forget that he was stuck in a six by six box like an animal. It was worse than being an animal. They at least had food and light and something to lay on. There was nothing for him at all. Not even somewhere to relieve himself.

As soon as the thought popped into his head, he felt the familiar sensation that he had to use the bathroom. That was something else he hadn't done in a while. The urge was so strong he couldn't hold it for long. It was impossible. The farthest corner from him was his best place to go. On hands and knees he crawled over and dropped his pants. The puddle expanded in front of him and he tried to keep it contained to just the one corner.

He was extremely careful as he backed away to not tip over into his new 'bathroom'. That was the one thing he didn't want. It was easy due to his echolocation to get himself back to his corner where he hunkered back down. His body shook, but it wasn't because of the temperature. A wave of sadness overtook his body. A wave of anger and hatred and confusion. Warm tears beaded up in the corner of his eyes and traced paths down his cheeks. It was sudden and unexpected. Gregor never cried; never let anything get to him. But this was different. This was unjust. Unfair. Uncalled for. And just plain wrong. He was being treated worse than an animal, but he was human. A human who did nothing wrong.

His hatred started to build. It started with Roderick. He was the one who had had him arrested. The one who had brought all of this upon him. And then it spread to the soldiers who had actually arrested him. They were just doing their jobs, but he still hated them for it. They had beaten him even though it was in retaliation for how he had resisted and fought them. His anger spread further to Mareth and Perdita, who had done nothing except stand around and yell about how he was innocent. Neither of them had tried to stop them, had tried to fight them with him. It was just as much their fault that he was there.

His anger spread so far as to include all of Regalia. Every single person that lived there, including Luxa. They had done nothing, but it was their city that he was helping and assisting. It was her city and her cell that he was stuck in. And she didn't do anything to help him. Gregor was being unfair, obviously, because Luxa was still stuck in the hospital. What Gregor didn't know was that she had ordered him released, but her order had not been followed.

Gregor's anger bowled over and he let out a brutal scream, "WHY ME!? WHY IS IT ALWAYS ME! I WORK MY TAIL OFF ALWAYS TO GET TREATED LIKE A PILE OF SHIT! I ALMOST DIE AND I GET THROWN AWAY! I'M DONE! I CAN' TAKE ANYMORE OF THIS!"

He slumped over worn completely out. The endeavor had sapped all of the energy from his body and he was left tired, cold, and in emotional distress all alone in the dark. His head rested against the stone floor and his eyelids slid shut over his eyes. Fitfully he let himself fall into a turbulent sleep.

Gregor's eyes flickered open, and he immediately closed them again due to the light now streaming into his small cell. It was so intense he could still see it through his eyelids and it stung. He rolled his body over and faced the wall to try to alleviate the discomfort.

"Overlander, stand." The voice was gruff and rude. The words were a command and he had no choice but to stand unless he wanted to be beaten or screamed at. Gregor pushed himself to his feet, but did not look towards the light.

"Turn around." Gregor didn't turn. "I said TURN AROUND!" the voice screamed at him. Again Gregor didn't turn. He heard the sound of something being pulled from a belt and he 'saw' that it was a club of some kind. He braced himself for the blow, but it never came. He clicked and saw another person in the small cell. A woman.

"Gregor, why do you not turn?" Susannah asked.

"The light hurts my eyes is all," Gregor answered, relieved to hear a friendly voice.

"Your eyes shall adjust to it. You have not been in the dark for long enough for your eyes to have issue."

"How long has it been?"

"Pardon?" Susannah asked, understanding evading her.

"How long have I been locked in this tiny room?" Gregor asked with more aggression than he meant. Susannah hardly seemed to notice and if she did she didn't say anything about it.

"It has been almost a day. I have come to tend to your wounds." The older woman walked towards him and laid a hand on his arm. He tensed up because the contact felt foreign to him. He was wary of everyone now and he wasn't sure who he could trust. "Calm now, Gregor. I shall not hurt you." She turned to the guard. "Take this bond off of him. He has very little circulation in his hands." The guard approached, drew his dagger, and slit the bond. The leather snapped back and Gregor nearly screamed in agony as blood flowed back into his hands. His wrists were chaffed severely when Susannah removed the leather from them.

"Where do you hurt the worst?" she asked as she looked over his body.

"My arm here and a spot on my lower back," Gregor replied reluctantly, realizing that Susannah was truly here to help him. The doctor looked at his arm and called for a bag of medication. Gregor saw a quick glance of Howard as he carried the bag into his mother. Howard gave Gregor one look, but it was blank and empty. There was no emotion on it, almost as if Howard was trying to hide what he was thinking or feeling.

"This will sting a bit, dear," Susannah said as she rubbed a cream onto the wound. It stung like many bees stinging the same spot over and over. And then his arm was going numb. He caught a quick glance of Susannah as she threaded a needle with a fine thread and proceeded to stick it into his skin. He felt nothing as she sewed up the several inch long cut. She cleaned his wrist wounds next before turning her attention to his back.

"Show me where it hurts, please." Gregor pointed to his right side, just a little above his kidney. "Is it okay if I remove your shirt?" Gregor nodded. As he raised his stiff arms up and over his head, he felt his back tighten and he let out a groan of pain. Susannah quickly pulled his shirt off and had him lower his arms. As soon as they hit his sides, the pain in his back went away. He felt Susannah's hand probing around the area and felt her pushing and teasing his back.

"It appears that you have a severe contusion. It should be better in a few days." She took a step back and Gregor sunk back onto the floor pulling his shirt back on. There wasn't much else he could do. They still hadn't given him food or water and his throat was dryer than the Sahara desert. It was at that moment that his stomach gurgled and he pressed his hand against it to stifle the hunger pains.

"Have they not given you food?" Gregor shook his head. Susannah's head spun toward the guard, her anger obvious. "You have not given him food or drink. Why?"

"I was ordered to not allow him food or drink."

"By whom?" Susannah asked with a fury.

"Roderick."

"He has no power to deny a prisoner of basic subsistence. Also, where is he to relieve himself?" Susannah had noticed the smell of urine radiating from the corner. Gregor looked over at the vile smelling area. He had grown accustomed to the smell very quickly and hardly noticed it anymore.

"Roderick, commanded us to not give anything to him because of his crimes."

"Crimes that he has not been found guilty of. I want this cell cleaned and him to be given proper care as any prisoner would. Move him to a new cell if you must. This is not sanitary and I will not have him becoming ill."

"I do not see it mattering. His fate is sealed," the guard retorted. A crack filled the small cell as Susannah slapped the guard clean across the face. He reeled back dumbstruck at the sudden burst of violence. Gregor himself was stunned. He had never seen Susannah hit anyone.

"You do not decide his fate. That is up to the council and our queen. Unless you fill either spot you do not speak of it. Now move him to a new cell and make sure he is properly cared for." With that she stalked out of the room, giving Gregor a reassuring smile right before she disappeared around the corner.

Everything then seemed to happen very fast. The guard came out of his stunned manner and with two large steps was right next to Gregor. He grabbed the smaller man by the arm and heaved him out of the small cell. Gregor was so off balance he slammed into the hallway wall and slumped to the ground. The guard was on him again and he wrapped his beefy hand around Gregor's upper arm, half marching and half dragging him down the hall. With his free hand he grabbed a bundle of keys and picked the one he needed. The lock clicked, the door swung in, and Gregor followed, this time able to keep his feet. A bucket came flying in behind him and the door slammed shut. The key grinded in the lock and Gregor was alone again.

"So much for that," Gregor thought as he put the bucket in one corner and slumped back against the wall. He looked at his new cell and noticed that it was slightly larger in comparison to his last cell. Maybe seven foot by six foot this time. The biggest difference was the large iron rings hanging from the wall. They reminded Gregor of the dungeons of the medieval ages where you would be hung from your hands and beaten. Susannah's help may have just gotten him into a worse mess.

The sound of the key grinding in the lock was back and the door swung open again. A small woman quickly slid a tray in and the door slammed shut. On his hands and knees, he scurried over to the food. A loaf of bread and a jug of water was all there was, but for Gregor it was marvelous. After not eating for a day or more, he shoved chunks of bread into his mouth, barely chewing before swallowing. He chugged half of the jug of water before he stopped to catch his breath.

He crawled back to his corner and placed the jug next to him for later. It was best to save what he had just in case they didn't want to give him anything else. It seemed to him that he would be alone for a while. Alone with nothing to do in a dark cell with barely any space to do anything.

The days passed by slower than Gregor thought possible. He was judging the days on the regular delivery of food. He had guessed they were giving him food every twelve hours or so. Nine trays had already come and gone, so he was guessing it had been four and a half days that he had been in the cell. But the good thing was that he was being treated well enough. Enough food and someone took away his waste if the smell became too intolerable,

The ache in his back had slowly started to ease away and the cut on his arm barely hurt at all. His body, however, was so stiff because of how long he would sit curled up against the wall. Every so often he would try to do something to keep himself active and get his blood pumping. If he ever felt himself getting cold -which happened a lot less in this cell- he would run in place or do jumping jacks to warm up his extremities. When his back felt good, he would do sit-ups and curl-ups. Basic exercises that would just keep him feeling like he was doing something with his endless supply of time.

At the current moment in time, Gregor was doing one of these activities when he heard the lock clicking open. He sprang to his feet, his brow furrowed in confusion. It was several hours until he expected the servant to bring him his food. The door swung open and he had to shield his eyes from the glow of the torch that was right in the doorway. Through his half closed and covered eyes, he could see the silhouettes of a few people. They were rimmed black and only a few details could be seen. One was a glint of light on a gold circlet worn on someone's head.

Gregor dropped his hands and forced his eyes open. Luxa was standing there, flanked by two burly guards. He looked into her face to try to see what she was thinking. What she was feeling. But her face was obscured by the lack of light, and Gregor couldn't see anything.

"Luxa. Thank the lord you're here. Please tell me you are getting me out of this mess." Gregor's relief showed in his voice. It was the first person of importance to come see him since Susannah and he still had no idea what he was being accused of. Who he had supposedly killed. Luxa took a few steps into the room and Gregor finally got a good look at her face. Her eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot, bags were under her eyes, and she was shaky on her feet. He reached out a hand to help her keep her balance, but the motion of the guards starting to draw their swords caused him to pull his hand back.

"I cannot say that, Gregor. I am here to make sure you are being treated well and to inform you that your trial will be within the next two days." Luxa sounded tired, as if she hadn't slept in days. In fact she hadn't slept much at all since Gregor had been imprisoned.

"Are you serious, Luxa?" Gregor replied worried beyond belief. "I didn't do anything to have to go on trial for. I haven't even been told what I did."

Luxa seemed to be on the verge of tears and it took her a moment to regain herself before she could talk. She straightened her back and washed all the emotion off her face. "You shall be on trial for the murder of the master smith Ivan and the theft of his property by force."

"Wait a sec. I didn't kill Ivan. No way would I do that!" Gregor's voice was rising. "He was my friend and we had a disagreement that morning but I didn't kill him! I would never do that! Never ever!" Gregor was yelling. All of the anger that he didn't know was pent up in his chest was released at one time. "Do you not trust me, Luxa?! Huh! HUH!? You know me and would I ever do something like THAT!? Is there even evidence against me? I doubt it!"

Luxa was shocked at Gregor's unholy outburst of anger and rage. His words had stung against her almost as if he had physically slapped her after each one. She stood stock still as her eyes followed Gregor pace back and forth along the back wall of his small cell. He was wringing his hands together, the anger still clear on his face.

"Gregor," Luxa said softly, stopping Gregor in his tracks. "I do not know what to trust. It is your word versus the evidence and the evidence is very strong. I am not sure how to feel about this situation and it matters not what I know about you. Even the best can lose themselves. At this moment in time, I can say that whatever we had may be gone. I cannot say that I will find myself in the company of an accused murderer. Remember, your trial is in two days' time. Be prepared to defend yourself." With those words she was gone. The door slammed shut in the wall and the key grinded in the lock. It was silent as Gregor stood staring at the door. Luxa's words played over and over in his head. She had basically said in a queenly way that she could not love him anymore. What a mess he was in. Accused of a murder he didn't commit and had no knowledge of. Stuck in a cell with no way to know what was going on outside. And the love of his life, his girl, the reason he still wanted to live, said that she couldn't love him.

And that made Gregor angrier than he had just been. He felt a hot tear of anger bead up in his eyes, but he didn't brush it away. His head slammed against the wall, and his fists followed, pounding against the wall with the side of his hands. He stalked away around the room and kicked over his pail. The waste oozed out in a warm, steaming puddle. But Gregor had already thrown himself on the floor, in his corner as far away from the puddle of sludge as he could get. His pulled his knees up to his chest and let his tears flow. He let himself ball like a baby.

"Why me?" Gregor croaked through his tears and his tight throat. "Why is it always me? I can never just live a happy life. Everything bad seems to happen to me and I hate it." And he let his last ounce of anger out. "I hate them all! I truly hate every single one of them! Never will I say I love them again!"

Another day had passed and Gregor had hardly moved from where he was. He laid, curled up, on the floor in the corner and had only left to get the food they had brought him. And even then he had barely touched the bread. His appetite was long gone and all he wanted was water to wet his parched throat. His mind was focused on the upcoming events and not his current state. He had in those 6 short days already lost several pounds and was lacking the energy to do much. Had he been able to smell himself, he would have probably gagged. And his clothing had taken a beating as well.

The door pushed open and Gregor reluctantly sat up to look at who was there. Instead of the small servant lady, there were two guards, one male and one female. A clean set of clothes was tossed to him and he stripped out his dirty and stained ones. The new clothes felt smooth against his skin as he pulled them on. He removed his torn and soiled pants and slid into a new pair that were longer than the normal ones he wore. He slid his boots back on and stood before the guards. The female one took out a small bottle and sprayed its contents onto Gregor. It smelled sweet and was obviously there to cover his stench.

The male guard pulled out a leather bond and forced Gregor to place his hands behind his back. The bonds tightened and Gregor was force marched out of the cell. The brightness of the torches in the hall was worse than he had thought. The small amount that would enter his cell when the door was opened usually stung his eyes. The innumerable amount of torches that lined the halls of the palace forced him to keep his eyes shut because it felt like his retina would catch on fire if he didn't.

Gregor after about a minute slowly opened his eyes and let the light in. It hurt, but not as much as he had thought. He gritted his teeth and let his eyes adjust to the light again. He was marched up a flight of stairs and they passed many people. They all gave him looks of resentment and disgust. Several of them spat at his feet, but one lady had the balls to spit in his face. The guards laughed as Gregor tried to wipe the warm saliva off of his check. He was feeling like dirt and was treated like it as well.

A swell of noise reached Gregor's ears as they turned a corner a few minutes later. A pair of large stone doors stood closed, but the noise was obviously coming from behind it. The male guard shoved Gregor forward towards the doors, and the female guard stuck her leg out in front of him. Gregor tumbled forward and with his hands tied behind his back had no way to brace himself. He slammed into the cold stone landing on his cheek. A large hand hoisted him up by the back of his shirt and he was placed back on his feet.

"Stay on your feet!" the male guard yelled at him as the female one laughed. The sound of footsteps down the hall caused all three of them to turn their heads. Two people were walking towards them and Gregor was relieved to see that he knew them. Mareth and Perdita were side by side as they moved closer to Gregor and the trial. The guards saluted their superiors before Perdita dismissed them with a wave of her hand. They stalked away obviously mad that they hadn't had more time to beat up on Gregor before he was needed in the room.

"Are you alright, Gregor?" Perdita asked as she took his face in her hands.

"Yea, I'm alright for being locked up for six days and treated like a pile of shit."

"Watch your language, Gregor," Mareth scolded him. "We are here to help you. We are not your enemies, remember that."

"Yea, whatever," Gregor replied not trusting his older friend at all. "Is it time for this trial to begin?"

"Indeed," Mareth said, as he pushed open the two doors and a wave of sound and heat assaulted Gregor. It was time for his fate to be decided and he wasn't sure what to expect. He wasn't sure if he would be walking away from this with his life. If he had to he would try to pull the oldest medieval trick he could. He would try to ask for a trial by combat if that was even allowed.

He took a tentative step into the room, his life hanging on a balance with only a fifty percent chance he would walk out a free man.

Lots of fun stuff to happen next chapter guys. I'm really wanting to start writing it right after I post this, but I have to go do some history homework and stuff like that. School always comes first. I'm going to try to have chapter 20 up in less than a week this time, but it all depends on the amount of school work I'm given.

Question: What evidence is there against Gregor?