The Silver Crown

7.

I lay in a dank, dark and musty cell. It was barely six feet by six feet and made of dark black stone. The whole prison reeked of urine and blood. If misery had a smell, this would be it.

I could barely see my hands in front of my face or the blood coagulating in my wounds. My shoulder throbbed and my head ached from cuts and bruises. My calf hurt with a dull pain and my entire body was sore from running into a carriage, from the ordeal with the Market Kings and from the unexpected fight with the Royal Guard.

I had no idea what was in store for me. Was it treason to "attack" a parade? Ironic that I hadn't had a chance to commit the treason I had been planning but had been arrested anyway. It was because of a stupid mistake that I was here. It was because of a stupid mistake that they would probably execute me. To be fair, it was usually something stupid that got people killed. I just never thought that would be my fate.

Would they just charge me with disturbing the peace? That would be the base case scenario. Could I be convicted of murder even though all the times I've killed it was for self-defense?

I had two knives left that the prison guards had neglected to take but I wasn't sure how useful they'd be or if I'd get an opportunity to use them. I had been searched after being dragged up to the palace. Two guards had held my arms and another one had felt from my toes to my head. When he got to my chest and began to grope, I had given him a fierce kick in the groin to discourage that type of behavior. It was his own fault too; if he hadn't gagged my mouth, I would have just told him.

Mostly I kicked him because I didn't want him to find the small knife I had stashed between my breasts. The knife had a slim clip on the hilt that I latched to my breast band. Being men, the guards also overlooked the miniscule knife I had hidden in my hair under the messy braid.

The guards didn't take anything else either. I was worried that they would grab the thin string necklace from Tobin or the odd metal bracelet from the priest. It was an ugly thing, but the priest had told me I would have no hope of freeing Tobin without it. So I still had my meager jewelry and two small knives.

The weapons didn't do me any good though if I didn't ever get my hands free to use them.

I had already searched the cell for loose bars or escape routes. The door had been a long shot, as it was a prison. I had examined it anyway and tried to reach the lock but it had wisely been placed on the outside of the door and out of reach of my lock picks. The guards had taken my locks picks though so it wouldn't have mattered.

I had been lying in the cold, disgusting cell for what felt like hours when the stones outside my cell seemed to get brighter. I sat up groggily and shielded my eyes as the light became harshly brighter and a guardsman carrying a lantern came into view. He stopped outside the cell and the dungeon keeper fumbled with the keys. A few more guards appeared and when the door shuddered open, entered the heinous cell. One grabbed my right arm and the other, my left. The jailer entered to unlock my manacles. As they pulled me roughly to my feet I couldn't keep in a little gasp of pain. They weren't taking any care with my shoulder, which had a knife go through it just hours before and was by far the worst injury I had.

I was dragged up some steep and narrow stairs and down a hallway. The door at the end was the only fixture besides the rough hewn stone walls. The guards yanked open the door, which creaked on its iron hinges, and pulled me into a stinky windowless room.

There was a chair in the middle of the room with leather straps on it. A wood table was pushed against the wall on the far side of the room. Two empty shackles hung from the ceiling.

I was forcibly and unceremoniously shoved into the chair like a criminal. The two guards strapped my arms down onto the armrests of the chair, tightening the leather straps until I couldn't shift my arms. My metal bracelet was shoved uncomfortably far up my arm. The guards took up positions on either side of the chair. My heart began to thud painfully against my chest. This room reeked of pain. I had prepared myself for death, but not for torture.

A single sconce held light but it was feeble and mostly fell on me, casting the rest of the room into impenetrable shadows. Anything could be in those corners.

After a minute of uncomfortable silence, I was unable to hold in my worry. I spoke up, a slight tremble in my voice that I flinched at, "What's goin' on?"

The two guards ignored me. "Hey, you!" I said looking directly at the guard on my left. He had short stubble on his chin and cheeks but still had a roundish baby face. "Can you tell me what's going to happen?"

He turned and struck me across the face, snapping my head to the side fiercely. I blinked a few times to clear my vision. From my position I could see dried blood in the grain of the chair. I decided against asking any more questions. What was going to happen, would, and strapped in as I was, there was nothing I could do to change it. The guards continued to stand motionless next to my chair as the minutes went by. I chewed on my lip until I tasted blood, tapping my fingers in a rhythm to count out the seconds.

Finally I leaned my head back against the thick wooden chair. I had two secrets that I could not let escape my lips. One secret would cost an innocent his life and perhaps dismantle the secret hopes of the entire country. The other was my own secret to keep buried deep inside where even I could scarcely find it.

What was I going to do?