Songbird's Cage

Chapter 26

Lark let her forehead rest against the cool glass and metal of the window. After five days, she had paced and inspected every inch of the room. The hearth had a grate within the chimney. The bed was made of wood much too sturdy to break apart, as was the other furniture. The barren chamber had nothing to be used as a weapon, not even a book or a lantern. Her meals were brought to her by a guard who returned less than a half hour later to collect whatever remained. They gave her no candles or other sources of light – once night fell, she had nothing left to do but lay herself out on the mattress and pray for sleep. She had searched the room countless times for anything that might give her hope of an escape in the past several days; now she spent the long, painfully quiet hours staring out the window, watching the Weald far below.

The windows were wide enough that she might be able to break them and throw herself out, if she had nothing else.

With a sigh, she watched the soldiers in the training yard, her mind going to Rory as it always did. In the past several days she had imagined, countless times, the door opening with Rory on the other side, sword in hand. He had fought his way up to her, was going to take her away from Selaith, from the Wilds.

There was a voice outside, then the door opened and Bastion walked in. Startled, her mind still on Rory, she jumped to her feet.

"Gods above," she swore. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking?"

He walked farther into the room as the door shut.

"My deepest apologies, Your Highness," he said, his voice flat, an eyebrow raised. He walked to the window, placing his hand above his head on the wall as he stared out. She watched him uneasily as he stood before her, silent.

"Korzag," he muttered, tapping his fingers against the stone. "They're disgraceful."

He was watching the soldiers outside. Lark anxiously twisted the hem of her tunic, wanting a bath, a change of clothes, and for him to stop looking out the window and address her. Finally, he sighed, turning to her and sitting against the sill.

"Caradoc wants to speak with you," he said. "It's time for you to swear your fealty to him."

Lark wet her lips. "I won't do it."

He bowed his head, his lips twitching into a slight smile.

"I thought you say that," he said. Then his smile died. "You may want to reconsider."

She blinked. "What?"

He rose, nodding towards the door.

"Go."

The throne room was packed with Weald. Bastion walked behind her, pushing her into a bow when they stopped. As she stood against him and the room grew quiet, a voice rang out.

"Lark!"

She turned, her heart soaring at the sound of Rory's voice. He was across the room, being held by two guards. She stepped forward but Bastion seized her shoulder, stopping her. Rory pulled against the soldiers and received a sharp blow to the face. Caradoc stood.

"Enough," he said, raising a hand while his gravelly word rolled though the room. Lark watched him, knots tightening in the pit of her stomach, as he walked towards her. There was a cup of wine in his other hand, and he sipped it lazily as he regarded her.

"You're going to swear loyalty to me," he said after he swallowed. "Esaria is gone. You will never go back. But if you pledge yourself to me, to the Weald and the Sylvans, then you will begin to earn the rights that they possess. You can become one of us. And when the war begins, you will turn your back on your kingdom, will serve us. In turn, you will be protected, and when the Weald are victorious, then we may speak of freedom."