The Prisoner
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"Where were you born?"
That question may have actually been the last one I expected. He still wasn't looking at me, finding whatever was outside the window much more interesting, but I could feel the weight of his words on me.
"What does that matter?" I said to him. "What is it you want with me?"
"Information," he said, simply.
I huffed. "I'm not telling you anything about my friends, so don't waste your time."
"I'll start with an easier question," he said, and this time he did look down at me. "What is your name?"
"What do you—"
"Just your first name is fine."
"—if you're going to kill me—"
"I'd really rather not have to." The Baron's voice became icy, his black eyes now heavy on mine. "Since all you can focus on is how this will resolve, I'll tell you. There's something I want you to do for me. No, not even that..." He looked back out of the window. "Something I want you to try. But before I am willing to begin that endeavor, I need to know a few. Simple. Things. About you.
"Once it's done, I'll let you go. You can even keep the coat of arms. I could care less about the trinket."
It was not in my nature or my profession to be trusting. I didn't believe him for a second. But he didn't need to know that. I could just play along until I got the opportunity to escape. It was better than being killed on the carpet. I wasn't blindly hopeful enough to think that Baron Eaves was stupid, but there was always a chance of a mistake.
"Now, then...what is your name?"
I licked my lips. "Myra."
"Where were you born?"
"I...north of here."
The Baron nodded. "How far north? What territory?"
"Lissilis."
"Don't lie to me." Baron Eaves blinked. "I know you are not from Lissilis. What territory?"
Unbelievable. "Fine. Dorria."
"Dorria. Good." Was that a smile on his face, just the faintest hint of one? "And you were born in the winter."
"Yes..." It wasn't a question, but I answered. He may not have heard me at all. For the moment, his eyes were far and away, out that window, up to the moon.
"There's someone I want you to meet," the Baron said. He stepped away from me, going back to the open arch. There must have been a guard right outside, because he was followed back by the same burly man who had carried me here and dumped me onto the carpet. He picked me up again, ignoring my hiss of distaste.
"I can walk, you know," I said to them.
"Not at the moment," Baron Eaves said. "With me, now." At a quick pace, the Baron left the room with me in tow.
I watched the Baron move with ghostly ease, stretching my neck a little bit where it had gotten sore. One way or the other, I couldn't wait for these ropes to come off. The three of us moved in silence through the castle, the only sound the somewhat-clumsy footsteps of the man who was carrying me. The Baron was quiet as death.
We turned four times through various halls before coming to a descending staircase that could only lead underground. The torchlight, sparse in the castle, was even thinner here, and as it grew darker during our descent, I gave up trying to make out any details. The Baron, with his black hair and dark clothes, was completely lost in the gloom, even though he couldn't have been more than five feet in front of me.
We seemed to go down for longer than was possible. It was strange how the darkness made the time stretch out. When we neared the bottom of the staircase, there was more light, and I was able to make out the Baron. I also began to feel frightened. Before, I was reasonably certain my fate involved death or imprisonment. Now I had no idea what I was heading towards, and it was that unknown that scared me. I decided to speak.
"This person you want me to meet...they're down here?"
"I wouldn't bring you down here for no reason," Baron Eaves responded. We had stepped off of the stairs now, onto flat, bare ground. It was cold down here. The floor was dirt.
"What does this have to do with where I was born?"
"We're going to the last cell," he said, not to me, but to the guard carrying me. "She's going in with him."
"You're locking me up?" I wasn't surprised there was a dungeon here.
The Baron shrugged, taking a flaming torch from a sconce and using it to light a few torches along our way. We were in a narrow hall that soon opened up into a larger room, the left half of which was taken up by a row of three cells. "Only out of necessity. The person I am leaving you with needs to be imprisoned; therefore, so do you."
What kind of crazed monster was he going to put me in with? I could fight, even with men twice my size, but not in a cell. If this person needed to be behind bars at all times, it was not going to be pleasant being in there with him.
We were approaching the last cell. I looked into the first two, which were bigger than I thought they would be, but empty. I saw shackles on their walls and wooden benches. The last cell, it appeared, was twice the size of these, just judging by the length of bars stretching across the front of it.
I held my breath as we came up to the cell, but when I looked inside, I didn't see anyone. The corners of the cell, some twenty feet away, were dark; moonlight streamed in from an impossibly high window, a thick beam that cast onto a hay-strewn dirt floor, but that was all there was to see. Had the prisoner escaped somehow? The thought gave me hope.
But then I saw movement in the corner of the cell. Not blinking, I stared, trying to make it out.
The man emerged, but only partially. He was not large. He was not threatening. He looked thin, exhausted, and defeated. Why was he locked up here? How long had he been in this place?
The Baron looked at him, and his eyes sparked with much more life than they had when he was looking over me. He spoke to the prisoner. "I have a friend for you. Someone you know, I believe."
"I don't know anyone." The voice of the man in the cell was hoarse, but it was loud enough. "I don't know anything about your crazy delusions, either."
"Stay back," the Baron said to his prisoner, not that the man looked ready to dash forward. The Baron slipped a key from his waist, using it to unlock the door and pull it open slightly. He looked to the guard who was carrying me. "Put her inside," he instructed.
I held my breath as I was walked into the cell. Just because the prisoner didn't look threatening didn’t mean he wasn't dangerous. Or insane. Or some equally potent combination of the two. The prisoner watched me get set onto the ground (nice of the guard not to drop me this time). He didn't move a muscle, and when I was on the floor of the cell, his eyes went back up to the Baron's.
I looked warily at the man in the back of the cell, then turned my head to the Baron. "What do you want from me?"
Baron Eaves was closing the cell door as his man walked out. He locked it with the heavy key. "Make him talk."
"Talk about what?" I asked, bewildered.
His eyes sparkled briefly. "He'll tell you." And without another word, he and the guard left.