First legitimate showcase, I think. Anyway, comments and flames alike are welcome. First thing I've written in a long time. First little blurb of a rough draft I'm working on, approximately 2k words. Tried to break up the text as much as possible.
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The holding cells deep inside the castle of Gaile were rumored to be the most pleasant prisons in the whole of Ayrion. They were never designed with long term imprisonment or actual criminals in mind; they were built more or less specifically to punish guards for various infractions. The kingdom of Gaile had always maintained that a castle is no place for a criminal, and the actual contents of the cells reflected such thought. Each cage held not only a chamber pot, but a slate of concrete for the inhabitant to sleep on. Most nights, the absence of a real holding cell, one that was dark and dank, only slightly bothered Demudos. This particular night, however, the irritation was greater than usual. Where does one keep a real prisoner when one does not have a real prison?
Of course, in the seven years he had spent as captain of the royal guard, Demudos had never actually used these cells as anything more than detention centers for his men after particularly competitive drinking games. There had never really been a need for prison cells in the castle. Even after a pair of murders the year before, the cells went unused, as once caught, the murderers were only held long enough for their death warrant to be signed. Still, Demudos wished he had something more, just in case. Just for something like tonight.
Alone, he waited in the silence of the lower levels of the castle. There were no windows in the cell, so Demudos couldn’t see the moon to tell what time it was. Three? Four? It didn’t matter. Yawning, he propped himself up with his elbows on his knees and rubbed his eyes. The only light, a single torch burning on the other side of the bars, cast a grid of shadow which danced all around him. He had been waiting for nearly twenty minutes, with no sign that his men would be coming with the prisoner. He decided, rather matter-of-factly, that this would reflect poorly on them when he conducted his review that afternoon.
Another minute ticked by, followed closely by another. Demudos leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. He felt foolish; here he was, right hand of the king, waiting in a holding cell in his evening robe. He had not thought of getting dressed to meet the first royal prisoner of his career, aside from grabbing his sword, which lay on the cot beside him. Demudos never went anywhere without his sword. After all, one could only be as safe as one’s own preparedness allowed, and these were times when being prepared was key.
Demudos’ thoughts were interrupted by voices in the stairwell opposite the cells. Several people were coming. He stood and picked up his sword, tying it around his waist before walking to the open door of the cell. He could hear three voices, but only one was shouting. He chuckled. That was the prisoner. The other voices grew louder, and finally the glow of an unseen torch appeared in the door. Demudos took a quick breath and shook his head, brushing away any weary look from his eyes.
A moment later, a guard appeared in the door. He looked to his captain and sighed, nodding his head slowly before standing aside. Another guard entered, followed by the prisoner, cheeks flush and hair wild, and another guard holding a torch. Demudos stepped out of the cell door, allowing the prisoner to be led in. The prisoner stopped in the doorway and looked Demudos over. His lips curled. “You have no right to hold me,” he spat.
“I see,” was the only thing Demudos offered. He grabbed the prisoner and pushed him hard into the cell. The tiny man hit the wall and turned. He grunted as he surveyed the tiny cell and after a moment, stepped toward Demudos and held his bound wrists out expectantly. Demudos smirked and drew his sword. He waited for a moment. The prisoner raised his bonds and jerked them at the young captain. Demudos swung the sword hard and fast over his head. Gasping, the prisoner jerked his hands to his chest and drew back. Demudos grinned and returned his sword to his waist. “Name?”
“What?”
“Your name. What is it?” Demudos leaned against the bars. No response. He continued. “I saw you slinking around during the banquet last night. I know you’re not one of mine.” He waited, but again was ignored. “You’re one of the ambassador’s men, yes?” The prisoner wrung his hands in the rope that held them together. “I thought so. What is your name?”
A beat, and then the answer. “Lumius.”
“Lumius what?” Demudos paused a few seconds. The prisoner said nothing, only staring at the ground. “Lumius what?”
“The rope is hurting my wrists,” Lumius snapped.
“I offered to cut them off,” he retorted. Lumius frowned. Demudos turned to one of his men, who handed him a dagger. A few moments later, Lumius caressed his red and swollen wrists. “Better?”
“No.”
“You’ll have to forgive me then. I don’t care.” There was a short snicker from behind. Demudos glanced at his men and they fell silent.” Lumius what?”
“Serin.” Lumius sat on the cot and glared at his captor. “Have you no respect? This is no place for a dignitary. When Lord Mordehai hears of...”
“The ambassador? When he hears of what? How you poisoned two dozen royal guards? How his manservant is a thief? He’d be a fool to try to defend you.”
“Lord Mordehai understands that we are in unwelcoming places.”
“Unwelcoming places?” he repeated and shook his head. “Well, I’m not about to argue politics with a pitiful thief.” Slowly, he began to cross the cell. “Still, you are right. This is no place for a criminal such as yourself.”
“I’m no criminal.”
“Ah, a liar as well.” He stopped. “You’re going to be charged with quite a few things. Serious charges, and having committed your crimes in the castle won’t help.” Demudos paused for a moment, then began pacing. “No... this is no place for you. This isn’t a prison, you see. If I had my way, and mind you I usually do, I’d send someone like you to a cold cell in Ragnarog.”
Lumius sat up straight. “I’m not going to a prison.” His voice faltered.
Demudos shook his head and took a step forward. “No, not a prison.” He turned and stared at Lumius. “I said the prison. Have you heard the stories, my lord Lumius? Hundreds of men whose only purpose in life is to suffer are kept there, the secret of their crimes betrayed by the number of their deformities.” The smaller man looked away. “The air is rank with the smell of the comrades they step over in the day, and in the night, when the screams from the bloody courtyards are loudest, those men question how much sweeter death might...”
“Stop!” Lumius shouted. He looked down for a moment before facing Demudos. “Why taunt me now?”
“I am not taunting you, Lumius. I am preparing you.”
Lumius looked down to the ground and said nothing. He ran a hand through his wild hair and pulled his fur robe around him. His face darkened, his eyes grew wide. His lip trembled slightly. His shoulders fell. Finally, the servant looked up to him. “I meant no harm.”
“Meant no harm?” Demudos lunged forward. “You poisoned my night watch, broke into our treasury.” His voice began to rise. “You stole around like a rat, waiting for the right moment to make your move. Even as our king threw a banquet in your master’s honor, a feast to welcome you,” he was shouting now. “You planned to kill and make away with a share!” He grabbed Lumius up and glared into his eyes. “Five of my men may yet die because of your greed!” He threw him hard against the wall. Lumius dropped to the ground and balled himself into the corner. His eyes were misting.
Demudos wiped his forehead with his palm and turned back to his men. “And for what, I wonder.” He strode out of the cell and took a breath. “What did he take?” One of his guards opened a satchel and pulled out three bags of gold. Demudos turned to Lumius and smiled mockingly. “That’ll cost you a hand.” Lumius moaned quietly. Next came a sapphire ring. “What’s this worth? An ear, perhaps.” The guard was setting each thing on a wooden table. He set a jeweled brooch next to the ring. “That’ll be your tongue.”
There was a brief shuffle as the guard retrieved the last item, but when he did, Demudos said nothing. His eyes were locked on its smooth surfaces, his thoughts were lost in its blood red glow. It was a tiny trinket, no larger than a man’s palm. Demudos’ lips parted and a short breath escaped. He felt something, staring at this small gem. A great sadness seized his heart and cold ran through him. Warning pressed in Demudos’ mind, stirring lost memory. “Where did you find him?” he finally said. The words came slowly, each syllable meticulously pronounced.
“He tripped in the garden. Grabbed him there.”
Demudos took the gem and turned it in his hands. “He was alone?”
The guard let out a short, breathy laugh. “I assure you, sir, if he wasn’t, we’dve arrested...”
“You are absolutely sure there was no one else?”
The guard frowned and was quiet for a moment. “Yessir.”
“Would you put your life on that?” There was an uncomfortable silence as the guard looked at his fellow men. Demudos looked slowly to the cell. Lumius’ whimpering had stopped. He stared at the jewel. Giving it one more glance, Demudos tossed it onto the table and strode back into the hold. Lumius scrambled away, but Demudos snatched the train of his robe and pulled him back, picking Lumius up and pushing him again into the wall. Their eyes met for a moment, and then Demudos ripped the fur robe off his captive. Lumius shrieked and tried to pull away. The captain of the guard was stronger and kept him locked to the stone behind him. Demudos quickly pulled one sleeve down and examined Lumius’ shoulder. He ran a hand over his skin and muttered to himself before pulling down the other. Pale flesh. His thoughts ran together, but he was not finished. Demudos grasped Lumius tightly. “Who hired you?” Lumius’ eyes were suddenly very alert. He responded with a gasp.
“No one.”
Demudos slammed him against the wall. “You lie. Who was it? Who bought you?”
“No one!” Lumius voice cracked and tears began to form. Demudos growled and thrust him once more into the wall. Lumius’ cried out in pain.
“Who was it?” Slam. “Who was it?” Slam. “Who was it?” Slam.
Lumius screamed and wept freely. Demudos roared and threw him hard on the concrete bed beside them. Lumius did not move for a moment, sobbing into the cold stone. His tormentor turned and walked away in disgust. Demudos reached the door before Lumius spoke. “It was them.” Demudos paused for a moment and turned back. Lumius had rolled onto his side. Blood rolled down his temple. He clutched himself tightly and tears rolled down his face. “It was them, I do not know their names.”
Demudos brow furled. “What?”
Lumius trembled. “Voices in the dark. Shadows. They spoke to me.” He stopped and began sobbing again. Demudos crouched beside him and grasped his face.
“Look at me. Look at me.” The only sound was Lumius'
heavy breath. “Who hired you?”
“They speak...” He spoke between waves of uncontrollable tears. “They speak. Whisper to me. Told me to do it. Forced me to do it.” He leaned his head back and wailed. “I meant no harm. I’m sorry, so, so sorry.” His voice disappeared again into sobs.
Satisfied, Demudos walked slowly out of the cell and stared again at the gem. “He’s mad,” offered one of his men. Demudos shook his head and picked up the jewel. It was so beautiful.
“Mad or not, he must be kept here until I speak with the king,” Demudos began. He looked back at Lumius. “He may not have been working alone. I will not be long.” His men acknowledged the order, and Demudos started for the staircase. He stopped and cast Lumius one last glance. He no longer cried, and had sat up. His eyes were locked on the ground. He spoke murmurs softly to himself. Demudos drew in a long breath, and started up the stairs.
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The holding cells deep inside the castle of Gaile were rumored to be the most pleasant prisons in the whole of Ayrion. They were never designed with long term imprisonment or actual criminals in mind; they were built more or less specifically to punish guards for various infractions. The kingdom of Gaile had always maintained that a castle is no place for a criminal, and the actual contents of the cells reflected such thought. Each cage held not only a chamber pot, but a slate of concrete for the inhabitant to sleep on. Most nights, the absence of a real holding cell, one that was dark and dank, only slightly bothered Demudos. This particular night, however, the irritation was greater than usual. Where does one keep a real prisoner when one does not have a real prison?
Of course, in the seven years he had spent as captain of the royal guard, Demudos had never actually used these cells as anything more than detention centers for his men after particularly competitive drinking games. There had never really been a need for prison cells in the castle. Even after a pair of murders the year before, the cells went unused, as once caught, the murderers were only held long enough for their death warrant to be signed. Still, Demudos wished he had something more, just in case. Just for something like tonight.
Alone, he waited in the silence of the lower levels of the castle. There were no windows in the cell, so Demudos couldn’t see the moon to tell what time it was. Three? Four? It didn’t matter. Yawning, he propped himself up with his elbows on his knees and rubbed his eyes. The only light, a single torch burning on the other side of the bars, cast a grid of shadow which danced all around him. He had been waiting for nearly twenty minutes, with no sign that his men would be coming with the prisoner. He decided, rather matter-of-factly, that this would reflect poorly on them when he conducted his review that afternoon.
Another minute ticked by, followed closely by another. Demudos leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. He felt foolish; here he was, right hand of the king, waiting in a holding cell in his evening robe. He had not thought of getting dressed to meet the first royal prisoner of his career, aside from grabbing his sword, which lay on the cot beside him. Demudos never went anywhere without his sword. After all, one could only be as safe as one’s own preparedness allowed, and these were times when being prepared was key.
Demudos’ thoughts were interrupted by voices in the stairwell opposite the cells. Several people were coming. He stood and picked up his sword, tying it around his waist before walking to the open door of the cell. He could hear three voices, but only one was shouting. He chuckled. That was the prisoner. The other voices grew louder, and finally the glow of an unseen torch appeared in the door. Demudos took a quick breath and shook his head, brushing away any weary look from his eyes.
A moment later, a guard appeared in the door. He looked to his captain and sighed, nodding his head slowly before standing aside. Another guard entered, followed by the prisoner, cheeks flush and hair wild, and another guard holding a torch. Demudos stepped out of the cell door, allowing the prisoner to be led in. The prisoner stopped in the doorway and looked Demudos over. His lips curled. “You have no right to hold me,” he spat.
“I see,” was the only thing Demudos offered. He grabbed the prisoner and pushed him hard into the cell. The tiny man hit the wall and turned. He grunted as he surveyed the tiny cell and after a moment, stepped toward Demudos and held his bound wrists out expectantly. Demudos smirked and drew his sword. He waited for a moment. The prisoner raised his bonds and jerked them at the young captain. Demudos swung the sword hard and fast over his head. Gasping, the prisoner jerked his hands to his chest and drew back. Demudos grinned and returned his sword to his waist. “Name?”
“What?”
“Your name. What is it?” Demudos leaned against the bars. No response. He continued. “I saw you slinking around during the banquet last night. I know you’re not one of mine.” He waited, but again was ignored. “You’re one of the ambassador’s men, yes?” The prisoner wrung his hands in the rope that held them together. “I thought so. What is your name?”
A beat, and then the answer. “Lumius.”
“Lumius what?” Demudos paused a few seconds. The prisoner said nothing, only staring at the ground. “Lumius what?”
“The rope is hurting my wrists,” Lumius snapped.
“I offered to cut them off,” he retorted. Lumius frowned. Demudos turned to one of his men, who handed him a dagger. A few moments later, Lumius caressed his red and swollen wrists. “Better?”
“No.”
“You’ll have to forgive me then. I don’t care.” There was a short snicker from behind. Demudos glanced at his men and they fell silent.” Lumius what?”
“Serin.” Lumius sat on the cot and glared at his captor. “Have you no respect? This is no place for a dignitary. When Lord Mordehai hears of...”
“The ambassador? When he hears of what? How you poisoned two dozen royal guards? How his manservant is a thief? He’d be a fool to try to defend you.”
“Lord Mordehai understands that we are in unwelcoming places.”
“Unwelcoming places?” he repeated and shook his head. “Well, I’m not about to argue politics with a pitiful thief.” Slowly, he began to cross the cell. “Still, you are right. This is no place for a criminal such as yourself.”
“I’m no criminal.”
“Ah, a liar as well.” He stopped. “You’re going to be charged with quite a few things. Serious charges, and having committed your crimes in the castle won’t help.” Demudos paused for a moment, then began pacing. “No... this is no place for you. This isn’t a prison, you see. If I had my way, and mind you I usually do, I’d send someone like you to a cold cell in Ragnarog.”
Lumius sat up straight. “I’m not going to a prison.” His voice faltered.
Demudos shook his head and took a step forward. “No, not a prison.” He turned and stared at Lumius. “I said the prison. Have you heard the stories, my lord Lumius? Hundreds of men whose only purpose in life is to suffer are kept there, the secret of their crimes betrayed by the number of their deformities.” The smaller man looked away. “The air is rank with the smell of the comrades they step over in the day, and in the night, when the screams from the bloody courtyards are loudest, those men question how much sweeter death might...”
“Stop!” Lumius shouted. He looked down for a moment before facing Demudos. “Why taunt me now?”
“I am not taunting you, Lumius. I am preparing you.”
Lumius looked down to the ground and said nothing. He ran a hand through his wild hair and pulled his fur robe around him. His face darkened, his eyes grew wide. His lip trembled slightly. His shoulders fell. Finally, the servant looked up to him. “I meant no harm.”
“Meant no harm?” Demudos lunged forward. “You poisoned my night watch, broke into our treasury.” His voice began to rise. “You stole around like a rat, waiting for the right moment to make your move. Even as our king threw a banquet in your master’s honor, a feast to welcome you,” he was shouting now. “You planned to kill and make away with a share!” He grabbed Lumius up and glared into his eyes. “Five of my men may yet die because of your greed!” He threw him hard against the wall. Lumius dropped to the ground and balled himself into the corner. His eyes were misting.
Demudos wiped his forehead with his palm and turned back to his men. “And for what, I wonder.” He strode out of the cell and took a breath. “What did he take?” One of his guards opened a satchel and pulled out three bags of gold. Demudos turned to Lumius and smiled mockingly. “That’ll cost you a hand.” Lumius moaned quietly. Next came a sapphire ring. “What’s this worth? An ear, perhaps.” The guard was setting each thing on a wooden table. He set a jeweled brooch next to the ring. “That’ll be your tongue.”
There was a brief shuffle as the guard retrieved the last item, but when he did, Demudos said nothing. His eyes were locked on its smooth surfaces, his thoughts were lost in its blood red glow. It was a tiny trinket, no larger than a man’s palm. Demudos’ lips parted and a short breath escaped. He felt something, staring at this small gem. A great sadness seized his heart and cold ran through him. Warning pressed in Demudos’ mind, stirring lost memory. “Where did you find him?” he finally said. The words came slowly, each syllable meticulously pronounced.
“He tripped in the garden. Grabbed him there.”
Demudos took the gem and turned it in his hands. “He was alone?”
The guard let out a short, breathy laugh. “I assure you, sir, if he wasn’t, we’dve arrested...”
“You are absolutely sure there was no one else?”
The guard frowned and was quiet for a moment. “Yessir.”
“Would you put your life on that?” There was an uncomfortable silence as the guard looked at his fellow men. Demudos looked slowly to the cell. Lumius’ whimpering had stopped. He stared at the jewel. Giving it one more glance, Demudos tossed it onto the table and strode back into the hold. Lumius scrambled away, but Demudos snatched the train of his robe and pulled him back, picking Lumius up and pushing him again into the wall. Their eyes met for a moment, and then Demudos ripped the fur robe off his captive. Lumius shrieked and tried to pull away. The captain of the guard was stronger and kept him locked to the stone behind him. Demudos quickly pulled one sleeve down and examined Lumius’ shoulder. He ran a hand over his skin and muttered to himself before pulling down the other. Pale flesh. His thoughts ran together, but he was not finished. Demudos grasped Lumius tightly. “Who hired you?” Lumius’ eyes were suddenly very alert. He responded with a gasp.
“No one.”
Demudos slammed him against the wall. “You lie. Who was it? Who bought you?”
“No one!” Lumius voice cracked and tears began to form. Demudos growled and thrust him once more into the wall. Lumius’ cried out in pain.
“Who was it?” Slam. “Who was it?” Slam. “Who was it?” Slam.
Lumius screamed and wept freely. Demudos roared and threw him hard on the concrete bed beside them. Lumius did not move for a moment, sobbing into the cold stone. His tormentor turned and walked away in disgust. Demudos reached the door before Lumius spoke. “It was them.” Demudos paused for a moment and turned back. Lumius had rolled onto his side. Blood rolled down his temple. He clutched himself tightly and tears rolled down his face. “It was them, I do not know their names.”
Demudos brow furled. “What?”
Lumius trembled. “Voices in the dark. Shadows. They spoke to me.” He stopped and began sobbing again. Demudos crouched beside him and grasped his face.
“Look at me. Look at me.” The only sound was Lumius'
heavy breath. “Who hired you?”
“They speak...” He spoke between waves of uncontrollable tears. “They speak. Whisper to me. Told me to do it. Forced me to do it.” He leaned his head back and wailed. “I meant no harm. I’m sorry, so, so sorry.” His voice disappeared again into sobs.
Satisfied, Demudos walked slowly out of the cell and stared again at the gem. “He’s mad,” offered one of his men. Demudos shook his head and picked up the jewel. It was so beautiful.
“Mad or not, he must be kept here until I speak with the king,” Demudos began. He looked back at Lumius. “He may not have been working alone. I will not be long.” His men acknowledged the order, and Demudos started for the staircase. He stopped and cast Lumius one last glance. He no longer cried, and had sat up. His eyes were locked on the ground. He spoke murmurs softly to himself. Demudos drew in a long breath, and started up the stairs.
Frightening the very small and very old since 1952.
