Lord Geoffrey of Solntse awoke in darkness. “Calyin? Midori? Brodst?”
“No, they are not among us.”
“Lord Serant?”
“No, it is only us.”
Geoffrey’s thoughts spun. The last thing he remembered was the encounter with the bandits and the hunter clan. “Dead? Are they all dead?” he asked, fearful of the answer.
“Perhaps. I do not know.”
“Where—where am I? Why is it dark?”
“They like to keep us in the dark.”
“Who are they? Wait a minute—who are you?”
“Don’t fret so much. You should relax; you have been unconscious for days.”
“Days?”
“Yes, I am afraid so.”
“Do you know where the others are? The ones who were with me.”
“I am afraid that I only saw you—well, actually I didn’t really see you. I heard them carry you in.”
“It is cold in here. Where is that wind coming from?”
“There is a blanket there, beside you.”
“Thank you.”
“No need to thank me. I have done nothing.”
“What is that sound? Who is that?”
“Oh, him. Don’t pay any attention to him; he goes on like that all the time. Here, try to drink some of this.”
Geoffrey was thirsty; he drank deep. An instant later, he was spitting out what he hadn’t already swallowed. “Oh, that’s awful; what is this?”
“Would you believe water, or so I am told. It is horrible, but wait till you try the food.”
“—Oh—I don’t feel so good.”
“You should rest. Find sleep, and find solace in it.”
“What an odd word! Makes me almost want to laugh.”
“Odd times—odd times.”
“What do you mean?”
“Shh—they come. Just sit quietly.”
“Who?”
“Shh—” The other shuffled in the darkness. “It is okay; they only brought food. Here, eat some of this.”
“Your hands—what is wrong? Oh, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“No offense taken, and I am sure if there were a spark of light in this hole, you would understand.”
“What do you mean? Oh, I am sorry. I shouldn’t pry. You are right; this is awful.”
“It is all right.”
“How long have you been here?”
“A long time—too long.”
Geoffrey eased back, pulled the blanket around him, slipping quickly into a deep sleep. When he awoke what could have been hours or days later, he ate the leftovers in the bowl beside him, choking down whatever his stomach sought to spit back up. The other did not stir. In the darkness, Geoffrey could not tell if the other were sleeping or dead. He hoped the former and not only because the latter would mean that he was alone in this forsaken place.
Some time later, the guards brought food and water. Geoffrey ate and drank, perhaps more than his fair share. What followed was a seemingly ceaseless cycle of sleeping, waking, and eating. His strength returned. The other in his cell remained strangely quiet, withdrawn perhaps by something Geoffrey had said.
Feeling stronger made him bolder. When the guards returned, he shouted at them, “I demand that you release me at once!”
“You make no demands here!”
“Release me and my companion at once!”
“Hardy, har, har—you make me laugh. Hey, he wants to go home!”
“Set me free, or I’ll cut your heart out myself.”
“Cut my heart out, free?”
“I am a free man. You have no right to hold me.”
“So you are. Sprout wings and fly away, but even those will not help you here.”
“Take me to see your leader at once!”
“Our king is a very busy man, but I will tell him you wish an audience. You are such an important person that I am sure he will jump to his feet and come running at once.”
“Do you mock me?”
“Why, yes, of course!”
“I will hold you in contempt for this!”
“Contempt of what? What are you going to do to me? If you do not shut your mouth, I will not even bring you your food.”
“I would much rather starve!”
“Then so be it. The other one with a big mouth will not eat today!”
“Do you think I care?”
“We shall see—we shall see.”
Geoffrey said no more, his thoughts going first to those he thought lost: Prince Calyin Alder, Captain Ansh Brodst, Lord Edwar Serant, Sister Midori—she who had once been a favored daughter and princess of the realm. Were they all dead now like the Alder king? Had the enemies of old broken the heart of the kingdom? Did Solntse yet stand and were her people yet free?
He whispered the free man’s creed, “I am a free man, and I will die as such.” He begged the Lord of the Heavens to spare his son, Nijal, if no other. “Please, oh lord,” he whispered. “Has madness beset the lands?”
As he despaired, his hand longed to find the hilt of his sword and do what any righteous man would do in an hour of need. “A free man,” he said, mocking himself as he paced in the darkness. He shouted to the heavens, “Oh lord, help me find my way, bring light to end the darkness.”
“You want light?” said a voice from the hall. “What else is it you long for, old man? Perhaps you seek a blade? Perhaps you seek a way out?”
“I want only light so that I may see. Please, I beg of you.”
“Light, eh? You’ll regret it. Soon you’ll long to return to darkness, trust me.”
Geoffrey heard a bolt being moved aside. A moment later a thin line of blinding white light poured into the room from a small window cut into the heavy wooden door. Geoffrey shielded his eyes; the pain caused by the light was so intense that he fell to the floor writhing.
“Still want light?” the guard asked, laughing as he fully opened the shielding window.
Geoffrey put his hands over his eyes to stop the pain. “How many days and weeks in darkness?” he asked, his voice trembling.
The guard offered no response save for the retreating echo of his footsteps as he moved down the hall.
Time passed. The long minutes blended together one after the other. The light became almost bearable. The guard returned. “I’ve been told to give you this.” Geoffrey heard the clank of metal as something was thrown into his cell.
Geoffrey tried to open his eyes. His vision was blurred; all he could see were white points of light and a narrow path of what was around him. He groped with his hands in the darkness, found what the guard had thrown into the room. “A blade—you give me a blade?”
“When your vision returns, you’ll know what to do with it.”
“Do you think I will take my own life?”
The guard laughed, a deep mocking cackle, as he walked off.
“The blade is for me,” said the other.
Geoffrey could see only a blurred outline of someone sitting up in the bed across the room. “For you?”
“For you to use to kill me. They like to pair us with our enemies. What satisfaction it gives them, I do not know.”
“Our enemies? Wait—you know who they are? Where we are?”
“I do,” said the other. “Before I tell you what you want to know, you must agree to put down the blade.”
“You think I would kill you?”
“You are bred to this purpose, as I am.”
“So it is true that we are enemies?”
“It is. But cannot enemies of enemies also be friends if there is need?”
“Perhaps it can be so if the need is great.”
“And the blade?”
Geoffrey dropped the blade, saying to the other, “I am listening.”
“Good,” said the other, “then I will tell you what it is you want to know.”
Geoffrey thought to himself that what he wanted to know was much more than any one man could tell him. He wanted to know the fate of the kingdom, whether the garrisons had liberated Imtal, whether the treachery had spread to Solntse, where he had gone wrong. He also wanted to know the fate of the crown prince, for surely if there was one who could bring unity to the lands and restore order it was Prince Valam Alder.