Chapter 10: A Dangerous Prisoner

The first thing Winter became aware of was sunlight splashing across her face. Her eyes slowly opened, and her blurry vision came into focus. It was the afternoon, judging by the angle of the sun outside the window, and she was lying in a bed that wasn't her own. It took her a moment, but she finally recognized her surroundings as the castle's infirmary.

A dull ache was radiating throughout Winter's body, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. She tried to sit up, but a sharp, stabbing pain in her chest convinced her not to. It was clear that her rib was still broken, but at the very least, she had survived. It even appeared someone had taken the time to get her cleaned up and dressed in a fresh tunic and trousers.

As bad as Winter felt physically, mentally she was doing much worse. Recent events had so thoroughly upended her worldview that she was all but numb to them. She didn't have the slightest idea where her place was anymore. All she knew for certain was that she couldn't allow things to continue as they had.

Voices buzzing outside the door caught Winter's attention. She turned her head in their general direction. She supposed they must be talking about her, but she couldn't make out what they were saying.

The voices stopped and the door opened. Winter saw Lord Ironwood walk into the room. A pleased smile graced his lips when he looked at Winter. He walked over to her side and said, "Dame Schnee. It's good to see you conscious again."

"How long have I been asleep?" Winter asked.

"Nearly two days," Ironwood said. "Not as long as I feared you might be."

"Is…" Winter trailed off. There were many, many things she wanted to know, but she understood that she needed to exercise discretion. It wouldn't do to let Ironwood know that her blind faith in the Order had been shattered. After some deliberation, she asked, "Is my sister safe?"

"Yes, Princess Weiss is safe. So are the king and queen," Ironwood said. "And it's all thanks to you. That was an amazing feat of valor! You took down a dragon without any preparation and all but by yourself."

"I suppose his lordship was watching," Winter said.

"I was indeed," Ironwood said.

"Did you consider joining me in battle?" Winter asked.

"Of course I did," Ironwood said. "But I couldn't squander the advantage of surprise. And good thing I didn't. I don't think we would have been able to capture the dragon alive if I had."

A thought suddenly occurred to Winter. She said, "That collar…."

"Yes. Made by your father's own blacksmiths," Ironwood said. "And I'm very grateful they did such a fine job of forging it. I could only imagine what the dragon might have done if it had broken free."

"That collar would only have been useful if the dragon was human-sized," Winter said. She looked directly at Ironwood. "You knew."

"I suspected. But I didn't know," Ironwood said. "The collar was one of many contingencies I had prepared."

"You suspected," Winter echoed.

"We've all heard the stories," Ironwood said. "About dragons disguising themselves as humans. One ridiculous rumor among many. But all these years I've been thinking about that young woman who aided the dragon's escape the last time I fought it. Silver eyes. I've never seen silver eyes before or since. Not on a human anyway. And then your guest, 'Princess Yang'…. She had lilac eyes, just like my quarry. I couldn't dismiss it as a coincidence."

Winter suddenly remembered that there was another dragon out there, the red-colored one she'd originally thought that Ironwood had been hunting. She knew it was her duty to inform him. She chose not to. Instead, she asked, "And why didn't you tell me about your suspicion?"

"I was afraid what might happen if the dragon no longer believed its disguise was intact," Ironwood said. "And rightly so as it turned out. Look how it reacted the moment you confronted it."

"You still could have told me," Winter said.

"I'm sorry," Ironwood said. "I couldn't take that risk. At best the dragon would have quietly escaped, and we would've lost this incredible opportunity."

Winter wanted to accuse Ironwood of using her, of toying with her emotions. But she knew that wouldn't get her anywhere. Especially not when there were other things she needed to know. There was one question in particular that she'd been putting off asking. She feared what the answer might be. But she steeled herself and asked Ironwood, "Where is the dragon now?"

"In the castle's dungeon," Ironwood said. "I've already sent word to the Order to arrange for transporting it to one of our compounds. We'll have a much easier time interrogating it there. It will likely take months to break it, but it won't keep its secrets forever. In the meantime, we'll let it rot down in its cell to soften it up a bit."

Winter felt sick to her stomach. At least Yang was still alive, but knowing that she'd help bring about this injustice was unbearable.

Ironwood placed his hand on Winter's shoulder and smiled. He said, "Get some rest, Winter. You've got a long recovery ahead of you. The Order needs knights like you. There will be a rich reward awaiting you as well. Your share of the dragon's hoard as the one who brought it down."

"Yes of course. No need to worry about me," Winter said, straining her ability to appear calm. Did Ironwood really think he could buy her loyalty with ill-gotten treasure? It was like he'd forgotten who she was.

"I'll check in on you again as soon as I can," Ironwood said.

Ironwood left Winter's side. Winter heard the door to the room open and close. She lay there for a minute collecting her thoughts. Ironwood's attitude toward Yang unsettled her. He'd had plenty of time to observe Yang. He'd been present at the castle for nearly as long as she had. He must know as well as Winter did that Yang was no beast. She had thoughts and feelings, the same as a human. And yet Ironwood didn't seem to care. He wanted Yang's treasure, and he didn't show the slightest qualm about what he would need to do to get it. His callus greed was the final push Winter needed to make up her mind. There was no longer any question. She had to find a way to make this right.

In a funny way, Winter wanted to thank Ironwood. For the second time in her life he had given her a sense of purpose. Although she doubted he would approve of the path he'd inadvertently help set her on.

Winter held her breath and started to sit up. It took a great deal of effort, but she managed to get herself upright. She finally exhaled again and gingerly swung her legs over the side of the bed. Once her feet touched the floor she started the painful process of standing.

Winter's teeth clenched, but she finally managed to stand up completely. She paused for a moment to catch her breath. Her body gradually relaxed as the pain subsided back to a dull ache. Winter knew if the healer had been present, she would've been shouting at Winter to return to bed, but Winter would do no such thing. Broken rib or not, the time for resting was over.

About an hour later, Winter was properly dressed, groomed, and the very picture of presentability. She was also walking without any sign of injury thanks to nothing more than sheer willpower. It was incredibly painful for her—each step felt like a knife stabbing into her side—but she dared not show weakness at a time like this.

Winter was down in the castle's dungeon. It was an altogether unpleasant place, which Winter supposed was the point. She was following the head jailer as he led her past rows of mostly empty cells. A multitude of keys were hooked to his belt going almost all the way around his waist, and they jingled as he walked.

"What a week it's been," the jailer mused. "So many distinguished guests in my little fiefdom. My poor heart is all aflutter with excitement."

Winter didn't deign to respond.

The jailer was a surprisingly handsome man, at least insofar as Winter understood the concept. And he was dressed respectably given his lowly station. However, his natural good looks and modestly fashionable clothes were ruined by the thin layer of grease covering his body and the general disagreeableness that seemed to ooze out of his very being. There was nothing he'd done or said that was particularly off-putting, but there was some ineffable quality to his mannerisms that made him unpleasant to be around.

A heavy oak door with a barred window in it loomed ahead. The jailer led Winter up to it and patted it fondly. He said, "This…. This is where we keep the most dangerous prisoners. But the rest of them have been temporarily cleared out. How could they hope to compete with our guest of honor? A beast what looks like a woman. This will make a most excellent chapter for my memoirs."

"I'm sure your readers will be riveted to the page," Winter said dryly.

The jailer pulled a large iron key from off his belt without looking, apparently having memorized its position, and unlocked the door. Then he opened it up with a sly grin on his face and gestured for Winter to enter. He said, "Word of advice. Don't make eye contact. It seems to upset her."

Winter clasped her hands behind her back and strolled through the door with an intentionally haughty air. No doubt the jailer had hoped she'd be fearful of this place, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

Inside the room was a short passageway that ran past six jail cells, three to a side. Winter couldn't see Yang anywhere, but the jailer followed in after her and beckoned her deeper into the room. He led her all the way to the back two cells, and in one of them Winter finally caught sight of Yang.

Winter's heart stopped in her chest. It was all she could do not to gasp in alarm. Yang was still in human form and obviously hadn't been allowed to bathe or dress. Her body was still caked in dirt and blood. The huge collar Ironwood had used to capture her was still fastened tightly around her neck, although the wooden pole had been removed. There were a dozen thick manacles chaining her to the wall, mostly around her arms and legs. They were on such short chains that she barely had the ability to move at all. More alarming was an iron mask or muzzle of some sort that had been fitted over her mouth. It had large vents on its sides which pointed back at Yang's face.

When Yang saw Winter, her eyebrows lowered. She tried to pull forward, but she was stopped by her restraints which made a clanging sound.

"Oh-ho!" the jailer said. "She's taken a fancy to you. Is it perhaps because you used to be a princess? You know what the old tales say about dragons and princesses."

"The 'old tales' are nothing but ridiculous fantasies," Winter said, trying to sound like she was bored with the situation. However, her heart was aching. She couldn't stand to see Yang like this.

"Ah. Is whimsy truly dead then?" the jailer mused.

"Even if it were not, this is hardly the time or place," Winter said. She held out her hand. "The key to the cell, please. I must speak with the prisoner."

The jailer's grin, which had been omnipresent, faded a little. He asked, "Are you sure? Maybe I've failed to impress upon you how dangerous this prisoner is."

"Who do you think is responsible for subduing her?" Winter asked. "I know the danger better than you."

"Hmm," the jailer said. But he plucked another key from off his belt and handed it to Winter.

Winter took the key. Then she gave the jailer a disdainful look and said, "I will need to be alone. What is to be done here is not for your eyes or ears."

"A shame," the jailer said. "I suppose I'll have to make something up for this part of my memoirs then."

The jailer turned to leave. He walked all the way back down the passageway, but as he opened the door, he paused and said, "Two important things, Dame Schnee. Firstly, don't get too close. That mask keeps most of her fire at bay, but a couple of fools already have burns to show for their carelessness. Secondly, that key won't open any of the manacles. The king didn't see fit to trust me with such responsibility. Very disappointing. You would think he would know my worth after so many years of loyal service."

Winter's heart sank. She hadn't been entirely sure how she was going to free Yang, but not even being able to get her out of her restraints was a devastating setback. However, she made sure not to let her disappointment show. She said to the jailer, "Your advice is duly noted."

The jailer left the room. Winter waited calmly for a moment or two to make sure he really was gone. Then she let the façade drop. She frantically fumbled with the key and unlocked the door.

"Yang!" Winter said as she rushed into the cell. She reached out to touch Yang, but Yang flinched, causing Winter's hand to freeze in midair.

Winter slowly lowered her hand. She said, "Yang…. I'm so sorry."

Winter wasn't sure if Yang could speak or not with that mask on her face, but if she could, she chose not to. Winter realized she hadn't yet considered what Yang must think of her for the part she played in her capture. Surely she must despise her now. But even if she did it didn't matter. Winter would still see things set right. She owed it to Yang, and she owed it to herself.

"I was wrong," Winter said to Yang. "Lord Ironwood. The Order. It's all just an excuse. They hunt dragons for their treasure, not to serve any greater cause. And all this time I…I've been an unwitting pawn."

Yang's expression, at least what Winter could see of it, seemed to soften.

"I promise you that I'll…" Winter said. She looked about the room, trying to find something she could use to free Yang, but then her chest muscles contracted painfully to remind her that she was moving far too vigorously for someone with a broken rib.

Winter grunted in pain and clutched her side. It was no use. Between her injury, her inability to unlock Yang's manacles, and the threat that Lord Ironwood would pose, Winter couldn't see a way to secure Yang's freedom. The circumstances had conspired against her. There were simply too many obstacles for her to overcome.

"I don't know what to do," Winter said in despair.

Silence settled over the cell. Then Yang jerked her head back a few times. Winter realized that Yang was signaling for her to get closer.

Winter stepped forward and placed her ear right next to Yang's muzzle. She heard Yang whispering and listened closely to her words. The dejection on her face slowly gave way to apprehension as Yang spoke.

Eventually, Yang finished. Winter stepped back and asked, "Are you sure?"

Yang nodded.

"Then I will be back for you. I swear," Winter said.

Winter walked out of the cell and closed the door. She spared one last longing look at Yang before she hardened her expression and locked the door.

"Jailer!" Winter called out.

The door on the far side of the room opened, and the jailer stepped in. He asked, "Done already?"

"Yes," Winter said. She marched over to the jailer and handed him the key back. "The prisoner told me exactly what I needed to know."

"So easily?" the jailer asked. "I was hoping to at least hear a scream."

"Sorry to disappoint. But there are far more effective methods of getting information than torture," Winter said.

"But none more fun I'd wager," the jailer said. "Perhaps we should compare notes sometime."

"It will have to be later," Winter said. "In the meantime, keep the prisoner safe. It won't be long before I'll need to speak with her again."

"As you say, Dame Schnee," the jailer said. He bowed in a manner that was just barely on the correct side of respectful. "I live to serve."

Several hours later, Winter had left the castle and was wandering the streets of Atlas proper. Leaving the castle hadn't been as straightforward as it ordinarily would have been for her. Her father had ordered that no one enter or leave for the time being, and the castle gates were locked down. Fortunately, Winter had been able to use a secret entrance known only to the royal family. It was actually the first time she'd ever had need of it. Fortunately, the rusty old mechanism had still worked.

Winter was wearing an old and unremarkable traveling cloak with the hood up. It was covering her distinctive hair and her finely-made clothes which would have stood out on the city streets. Her arming sword had been lost in her fight against Yang and was most likely buried under the rubble of the tower that had collapsed. Hanging at her hip in its place was the saber she normally reserved for ceremonial purposes. Unfortunately, she'd also had to leave her armor behind. It had been returned to the castle's vault, and retrieving it would have drawn too much attention. However, she hadn't left the castle entirely unprepared. She had a bag with food and supplies slung over her shoulder. She wasn't really in a fit state to be carrying any weight, but she was making do. At least she could allow herself to hobble and limp again.

Everything in the city seemed oddly normal given what had happened at the castle yesterday. The markets were just as busy as ever with the daily rush of people. The only noticeable change was that Winter had overheard countless rumors about the dragon attack. They had ranged from patently absurd to disturbingly accurate.

Winter spotted a stable up ahead, which was exactly what she was looking for. Even better, a sign hanging in front of it indicated that it had horses for rent. Winter would need to leave the city in order to capitalize on the information Yang had shared with her. And in order to do that she was in desperate need of a horse. There was no way she would get very far on foot right now.

Winter walked up to the stables. A middle-aged man was leaning back in a chair just off to the side. He lifted his head slightly as Winter approached and asked, "Something I can do for you, miss?"

"Yes. Please show me your most gentle gelding," Winter said.

"Mmm," the man mumbled. "Looking to spare your dainty bum from any bumps and bruises?"

"You could say that," Winter replied, trying very hard not to take offense at the man's crude language.

"Right," the man said as he stood with obvious reluctance. He led Winter over to one of the stalls. Then he opened it up and took the reins of the horse inside, guiding the animal out of its enclosure.

"This is your horse then," the man said. "He won't get you there fast, but he'll get you there."

Winter examined the animal closely with a practiced eye. Then she pulled open its mouth to check its teeth.

"Oh? An equestrian," the man said with an unenthusiastic tone. "Are you sure you don't want a horse that's a bit more lively?"

"No. This one will do," Winter said. Truth be told, the horse was not an impressive animal. But it did seem gentle.

"Right," the man said. He tied up the horse's reins and then walked into the stall. He emerged a moment later with a saddle and some blankets. He saddled up the horse without much ceremony or energy. Then he turned to Winter and asked, "How long a journey? It'll be two silver a day to rent."

Winter reached for a small pouch that was tied to her belt. She pulled it loose and tossed it to the man. The man snatched the pouch out of the air, looking annoyed that he'd been made to move with any kind of alacrity.

Winter said, "That should be enough to buy the animal outright."

"Hmm," the man grumbled. He pushed his finger into the bag and sifted through the gold coins inside. Then he said, "Fine. But I've seen this song and dance before. If anyone comes asking about you…. I'm telling them everything. I'm not getting caught up in whatever trouble you're running from."

"I only wish to buy the horse," Winter said. "Do with your silence as you will."

"Well. The horse is yours then. Goodbye, stranger," the man said. Then he pocketed the coin purse and started wandering back in the general direction of his chair.

Winter slipped her bag of supplies off of her shoulder and secured it to her new horse's saddle. Then she went to mount when she realized she had a problem. Her broken rib was going to make it very difficult to get herself up onto the saddle.

Winter stood there, staring at the horse and wondering what she was going to do, when she heard a familiar voice hiss from behind, "There you are! Just what do you think you're doing!?"

Winter didn't spin around as that would have been painful for her, but she did turn around as briskly as she could manage. Someone in a cloak just as intentionally unremarkable as her own was standing there. Winter recognized who it was. She exclaimed, "Weiss?!"

"Don't sound so surprised," Weiss said. "You're not the only one who knows about the secret entrance."

"What are you doing here?!" Winter asked.

"Following you of course," Weiss said.

"But why?" Winter asked.

"You have a lot of gall asking me that," Weiss said, putting her hands on her hips. "There I was yesterday when all of a sudden the walls started shaking. And before I could find out what was going on, Captain Elm came and dragged me away to 'safety', all the while talking about how you were out in the courtyard fighting a dragon! A dragon! Then the next time I see you you're unconscious in the infirmary! And days later I hear you're finally awake again, but when I go to check on you, you've gone missing. You're not in your room. You're not in Princess Yang's room which looks like a firepit. Princess Yang is missing too! THEN I finally spot you, and you're heading for the undercroft, clearly dressed to sneak out into the city! So you tell me! Why did I have to follow you all the way here just to see if you're okay or not!?"

"Weiss…" Winter said. "You need to go back to the castle."

"I'm not going anywhere!" Weiss said. "Not without an explanation."

Winter sighed. She looked around to make sure no one was listening in. The stables were open to the street, but there was enough distance between them that none of the pedestrians walking by seemed to have taken an interest.

Winter said, "There's no easy way for me to explain what's going on, but…. Yang isn't anywhere to be found because she is the dragon who attacked the castle yesterday."

"What," Weiss said flatly, giving Winter a blank look.

"She's being held unjustly in our dungeon now," Winter said.

"Unjustly?" Weiss questioned. "You just said that she was the one who attacked the castle."

"Only because I provoked her," Winter said. "You're missing what's important."

"Oh do tell me what's important," Weiss said. "Do you know how terrified I was yesterday? I thought you were going to die!"

"If Yang had wanted to kill me…she could have. If she had wanted to kill a lot of people yesterday, she very much could have. She chose not to. Because she's not a mindless beast. She's a person," Winter said. She was only now realizing just how much effort Yang had gone through to avoid killing people during their battle. The archers on the ramparts were a prime example.

"She's a dragon!" Weiss said.

"And a person!" Winter insisted. "You should understand this better than anyone. You've had conversations with her. You've had tea with her!"

"The princess is a dragon," Weiss said like it was only just now registering.

"Yes," Winter said. "As unbelievable as it seems."

"Actually, it does explain a few things," Weiss said. But then her eyes narrowed. "Wait…. The last time we talked about Yang…. Didn't you say…? Did you two…?"

Winter could do nothing to hide the blush that suddenly lit up her cheeks.

Weiss blushed as well. In a small, horrified voice she said, "You're doing all of this because…."

"Weiss, that has nothing to do with this," Winter said.

"I don't believe you!" Weiss said. "You're trying to find some way to rescue your…dragon girlfriend!"

"Weiss!" Winter said sharply. "You still don't understand. I hunted Yang's kind in the belief that they were soulless, senseless beasts! They are not! To treat them as such would be the height of moral turpitude. I cannot allow myself to perpetuate this cruelty any longer."

Weiss scowled. She said, "Maybe I don't understand. But I do understand you. So you tell me, to my face, that you're doing this for the right reasons."

Winter didn't hesitate. She looked Weiss in the eye and said, "I solemnly swear to you that I'm doing this for the right reasons."

Weiss actually looked a little surprised. She held Winter's gaze for a minute or two before she looked away. Then she sighed and said, "Okay. I don't get it, but okay. Go…do what you feel you have to. I'll go back to the castle. Maybe I can distract father and keep him from realizing you're missing."

"Thank you, Sister," Winter said. "But…. Before you go…."

Weiss turned back to Winter.

Winter glanced at her new horse and sheepishly asked, "Can you help me up?"

Author's Note: We're starting to get into the home stretch now, and I'm really looking forward to what's coming up next. That being said, the next chapter may or may not be delayed a week. The holidays tend to be very disruptive, but I'll try my best.

I think the story is far enough along that I can admit this whole project is based on a joke I saw on a bumper sticker at a convention many decades ago. I don't remember it exactly, but it went something like this: "Dragons rescued and princesses slain! No quest too easy! No reward too big!" I think it's safe to say I expanded on that idea a little bit. Especially considering this was only supposed to be a short story. And then when it got too long for that it was supposed to be a novella instead. Aaand I think it's going to end up being a short novel by the time it's done. Oh well.

As always, I welcome constructive criticism. Please feel free to leave a review. And if you like what you've read, taking the time to favorite and/or follow really helps me out. You can also find me on tumblr (electronicyarn) if you want to send me a message or be notified of updates.