The Shadows Within

Chapter Four- Waking Up.

“To become a spectator of one’s own life, is to escape the suffering of life.”-Oscar Wilde.

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We have her.

Ever Your Servant, 
Lornon.

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It was dark when she woke.

 There was no blissful moment of forgetfulness, no sweet, momentary escape. With the sudden arrival of conciousness came the memories. It had all been real. The dull ache at the back of Cáit’s skull told her as much. Her whole body felt as if it were tied down with weights. Her ankle, in particular, felt impossibly heavy. She looked down, realisation dawning. She was bound. Her ankle was snared in a heavy black manacle, attached to a length of black chain which was anchored in the soil. She touched it and her fingers came away coated in grime. Cáit tugged it and pulled it, bit it and scratched it, until exhaustion settled in, and she was forced to accept that her attempts were futile. She wasn’t going anywhere. Angrily, she raised an arm to wipe her hot tears. 

Time passed and painstakingly, she forced herself into a sitting position. They must have drugged me.How long have I been out?  She knew that it was almost dawn on Thursday, June 5th, when they captured her. Judging by the fact that she couldn’t even see her own hand in front of her face, it was nighttime again,  so obviously she been unconcious for at least one day, maybe more. What have I missed? Where am I? Where ‘s Mam? Panic gripped her as Cáit realised she had no answers.

 “Seán!” Cáit’s cry broke the silence that she hadn’t even realised was wrapping her in a smothering embrace. She couldn’t believe she had forgotten about her brother. He should have arrived home by now, to an empty house.  What would he think of their unexplained absence? Would he realise right away that something was wrong? Would he worry? Would he look for them? Or would he think they had left him? Like Ann had threatened to? Her heart throbbed at the thought. But Seán was doing better now. He had to know that Cáit would never leave him alone. Never. They had all been through too much. Her heart cried out for him and his unknown fate. Although she was repressing the thought, although she didn’t want to think it, she knew that if she was in Buckles’ and his gang’s position, she would snatch Seán too. He was a loose end. The last surviving member of the Casey family. If he was gone, then there would be nobody to look for them, nobody to care. 

It was then that the despair came.

Hours passed, and outside, the darkness began to shift. Cáit was able to make out her surroundings. What she had previously assumed was a shed, was actually a small tent. The circular walls, or rather, wall was made of canvas, the floor of soil. There was a slit in the walll, the door, directly opposite her. She could make out the shadows of passing feet from where she crouched. Two pairs were standing in front of the tent. A curl of smoke could be seen rising above the two heads, which were tilted close together. Judging from the putrid smell wafting in the door of the tent, whatever they were smoking was not tobacco. Holding her breath, and her chain in one hand so it wouldn’t rattle, Cáit inched closer until she could hear their voices. She frowned. They were speaking English, but it was guttural and they definitely had a foreign accent. She couldn’t quite place it. She leaned closer, straining to hear.

“ Ohh....”, the sound of two hands rubbing together, ”what I wouldn’t give for a peek.....I hear shes a feisty one. Just my type. “

“ Yesh, you and about every other fella in this place Maidhc. You’ll not get near her, look here, not when”, his voice changed to a snarl, “ His Royal Highness, The Heir Of Illvéras, has forbidden it. Nobody is to touch her.” He spat.

“ Typical,he has her camped up here, away from everyone else so he has easy access whenever he fancies. All I want is a peek and maybe, to say hello, introduce myself.” He laughed, and the sound grated against Cáit’s skin.”He doesn’t believe in sharing, not like Lornon.”

Her body convulsed. 

They both chuckled at that. The voice, Maidhc, continued.”The men are getting restless you know, they need a bit of fun.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “ What are we even doing here, Breén? We’ve never been away this long.” His voice dropped even lower. Cáit tugged her chain, and strained to hear. “I’m starting to feel it, and I’m not the only one!”

 Breén echoed his whisper. “ I don’t know that myself, son. All I know is that Lornon has orders from the King, and I reckon they must be pretty important, to put us all at risk like this. The big guns at the top, including Lornon, have to be feeling it themselves. They aren’t immune. We must be going home soon, we have to be. But say no more, it wouldn’t do to be caught questioning Lornon, you know that.”
“Aye, your're right.” “ Come on, the a bit of grub wouldn’t go amiss.”

The two pairs of boots stomped away, leaving Cáit trembling in their wake.

Her thoughts were scrambled, as she tried to process the mens’ conversation. Illvéras? There wasn’t even such a place, let alone a Prince or royal family belonging to it. And again with the vintage boots, what was up with that? Had she been captured by a gang of lunatics in period costume? Cáit lay her head down, and grappled with what she had just heard. Their talk of “sharing” and “easy access” had terrified her, much as she hated to admit it. She had to think of a plan. She had to escape. 

She had barely reached this conclusion when the tent darkened and Buckles crouched in front of her. She stifled her gasp of surprise. Let them think you’re dumb. Make them dismiss you, Cáit. The words were whispered in her mind with her mother’s voice. She stared ahead with what she prayed was a blank expression. Buckles tilted his head, surveying her. His eyes were green and luminous, venom in their depths. She knew then, that those eyes would haunt her dreams. He reached out and traced her arm, from wrist to elbow, with a finger. Her skin prickled and itched with his touch. She locked her body down, forced it not to react. Buckles seemed to see right through her facade, a predatory smirk rising to his lips. 

He lent over, and whispered in her ear. “Time to meet the Prince, sunshine.”