The Forgotten

Chapter 11

Rendall sat in a dark cell with little light, only a torch lit up the corridor between the cells. It was dirty with blood staining the floor from beatings the guards gave prisons after they stank of piss and ale, presumably spending too much time in the local brothel while off duty. Cobwebs were in every corner of the cell with hundreds of newly birthed spiderlings swarming the area while the mothers, which where the size of Rendall's hands roamed the ceiling freely. There was a bed, or at least what passed for one, in the same corner as the spiderlings and a bucket in another corner that was thankfully home to none.

Rendall wasn't usually scared of spiders. He had spent years in the forest and was used to creatures of any sort. But being in a cell that was home to a countless number of them put him on edge, making him stay and sleep in the centre of the cell whenever possible.

There was a stench in the cells of skin rotting and bodies decomposing. Buckets were full of faeces and urine, mixed with the smell of blood and sweat. It was eye-watering. Rendall wondered if someone had died in these cells as the days he had spent down here or if they had all been forgotten as no one had been down with either food or water. He was hungry, his stomach growled constantly and was starting to cramp, causing the boy to curl in a ball in the centre of the cell, trying to think of better times.

His lips cracked from soreness. Yet when he tried to lick them with his tongue even that was dry, causing a sensation like sandpaper rubbing on them each time he tried.

Not having moved in some time Rendall lifted his head to look through his cell bars. Across the corridor, he saw another man leaning against the wall of the cell opposite to his. He looked starved as his cheekbones were easily recognisable in the dark. The unknown man had clearly lost muscle from his figure as torn clothes were nearly falling off that showed many scratches and bruises against his pale skin.. Rendall had thought he was alone in here but what did he know, the guards had beaten him half to death in that ally before binding his hands and dragging him behind a horse towards his new home in this black hell.

"I thought you were dead," said the man.

Rendall crawled towards the bars of the cells and sat up, grunting.

As Rendall came into the light, the man said, "You might not be dead but you look like you should be or will be soon. What did you do to them to earn such a beating?"

Rendall tried to get his words out, but nothing came out other than croaks of a dry throat and violent coughing.

After a moment he tried again, this time it was a quiet, pained voice that came out. "I killed two guards and executed a third before he could rape a young girl. When the rest of the men showed up I was out of arrows, so I surrendered."

The man's expression gave away signs of surprise, his eyes went wide with his mouth slightly open. He said, "I don't blame you for what you did but you should of at least ran, they'll be executing you soon, you are lucky to have lived this long."

Rendall shrugged, "What about you?"

"I was friends with a man who is now seen as a traitor for leaving the army."

Hearing that Rendall frowned, he had heard similar from Lynden though he was the man that left. "Is that man Lynden?"

With a sideways glance, the man looked at Rendall again with an interrogating look.

Rendall smiled in response. The first time he had done so since entering this place. With a worn smile, he said. "I met him recently, he's in the city and from what he told me, he's here to get you out."

The man smirked for a moment, closing his eyes imagining what it would be like to be free then his face went stone cold. "He's a fool and wasting his time, there is not much of me left to rescue now, though it is nice to know I'm not forgotten."