“Oi.” The abrupt rap of Pike’s knuckles was enough to awaken Rakim from a dreamless sleep. He jolted upright with one eye open forcing his mind to focus on the source of the sound. “I fetched you something to eat.”

    With a lengthy yawn Rakim brought himself to a stand from the small nest of straw he arranged in the center of the cell neatly folding the soiled sheet of burlap given to cover him. Blades of hair thin straw clung stubbornly to the seat of his trousers stabbing Rakim as he moved. The meal was a simple broth and a brown peeled pear. Rakim gawked quizzically at the stone fruit until Pike gestured for him to take a bite. He recoiled at the resistance of the unripen fruit yet the mild sweetness encouraged Rakim to continue. He felt his face flush.

    “We don’t give prisoners the ripe ones but you don’t seem to mind.”

    “What is this called?” Rakim spoke between feverish bites.

    Pike shook his head. “Questions later. Finish your meal first. You needn’t rush.” Despite himself, Rakim consumed the late breakfast faster than it took to plate. “Heaven’s?! When’s the last time you’ve eaten?” Collecting the bowl Pike motioned for Rakim to stand clear. The cell door let out a whine that made the men shudder. Rakim held out his wrists watching Pike expertly bind them in a series of loops and knots. Slowly the executioner led him up the spiraling stone stairs, past one iron door to a branching hall off to the right, down a short flight to Blight’s office. The young Captain was stretching when the pair arrived. “You’re early?” The Captain passed a glance between his guests. “Have you-has he eaten?”

    Blight straightened out his tunic as he gathered fresh reams of parchment weighing down the curved edges with an ornate iron bar inlay with images of grape vines in full bloom. Pike retrieved two seats from the side of the room drawing them close to the pine desk. Blight wrinkled his nose at the sight of his worn down quill.

    “Today shall be no different than the night before.” Pike seated himself recalling Rakim waited for his lead. “We have little time before the Bride will make her final decision and we want you to be the first she considers.”

    “You don’t want to know about the others?”

    “In due time. They have already been captured; we have more than enough time to punish them while we gather intelligence.”

    Rakim nodded in mild understanding. Blight tested the newly sharpened end of his quill.

    “Have you heard?” whispered the kitchen maids as they prepped the kitchen for the midday meals. “Blight’s gone and found a candidate, you know the one for you-know-who.”

    “Yes, Maryland told me this morning. Has anyone seen him?”

    The three other maids who were chopping vegetables all shook their heads in a disappointed huff. “I asked one of the watchdogs, the ones who serve under Lord Kane, but he said he did not get a good look; did notice he was a scrawny fellow.”

    A husky voiced page strode through the kitchen placing three tags on the wall under Captain Blight’s symbol. “You want to see the candidate?” He tapped the tags on the wall. The maids gasped then shoved one another hoping to be the first to be selected for delivery duty.

    “I’ll give you half my day’s wages!”

    “I can get you the finest cuts of lamb by sundown!”

    “You owe me from last month!”

    The page stood smugly pondering which treat he wanted the most. He wasn’t in the mood for lamb, but he eyed the freckled maid who looked worn. Her hands glowed pink from washing out the breakfast pots. The page always admired her from afar. “You there, what’s your name?”

    “Mahogany, started last summer. I got nothin’ to offer. Give it to Gemma,” she tilted her head casually in the direction of the buxom maid still owed a personal favor. “‘Sides, it’s not good to leave a debt unpaid. It’s unseemly.”

    Gemma looked up longingly at her speckled friend with a hand over her heart. “Bless you Gyn.” Still wanting to catch Mahogany’s attention, the Page relented.

    “It’s yours Gemma. We even now? Captain Blight and Pike request and evening lunch. The prisoner needs his midday rations. They’re in the west end tower.”

    Gemma bounced on her heels with a squeal of anticipation.

    “Tell us everything! Leave nothing out!”