There was a small window of light at the top of the wall, leading to the bailey, he could see the green of the grass from where he gazed, the hole was large enough to fit his arm, but nothing else, he heard the chirps of the birds and breeze blowing through, even the pitter patter of footsteps of the servants completely their daily tasks. He had sat in his corner of his cell for the whole night, not able to sleep due to scorching pain erupting along his back, though thankful he was placed in an empty cell to the end of the large room, that in the light of day, was stark and damp, the walls covered in black mold and moss that had grown over the many years.
Zorian gazed over at the other full cells, with it’s black rusted metal bars. The men locked up looked dead, empty shells, vassals in which a soul no longer took residence, he could see that some of their hands and ears had been removed, left without treatment, no doubt a punishment for their crimes. The cell closest to the boy had three men inside, one was a middle aged man, his head rested on the bars of Zorians cell, the boy could see that man's left hand had been cut off, the bone was showing, and the blood already dried. But the wound looked infected to Zorians eyes, edging with a yellow tinge, his skin was pale, nearing a grey colour, the muscle and skin was oozing pus, and Zorian had even seen a few flies land on the wound, but the man did not react, nor seemed he was in pain, but instead tired, his eyes hung heavy with dark circles and Zorian would guess that the man had not slept in days.
Zorian shivered, hissing in breaths, from the throbbing pain of his back, it was a constant torment, riddling in agony. A rat scurried to his feet, sniffing at his shoes, it was a large rat, larger than the ones he had caught and killed in the kitchens. He sighed, banging his head against the black stone of the walls.
He remembered feverishly during the night, that someone had came to him, their blonde locks of hair fell onto his face, as they soothed him gently, their fingers tracing the lined cuts on his skin, he had felt something cold placed on his back, it stung a little, but the voice carried on to speak softly to him, it was a comfort for a time, but he could hear their voice breaking into sobs every so often apologizing for something. But when he turned to the voice it was gone, and for the rest of the night Zorian wondered if it was only his mind playing tricks on him.
“Yer new.” A croak of a voice spoke,
Zorian turned his head to the cell next to him, seeing a man almost made of bone, he was old, and had a snout for a nose, that was crooked and broken, his teeth were rotted, and Zorian knew with not a shred of disbelief that his breath would smell foul and horrid. “I am,” Zorian answered weakly,
The man hummed, “what’d ya do?”
“Among many things,” Zorian grumbled, “I finally told the lady of blood what I really thought of her.”
The man chuckled, “a rebel are ya?”
Zorian shrugged, “why are you here?”
“I’d stolen a broach from a lady in the market a few months back.”
“Thought it’d look good on you?” Zorian sniggered.
The man leaned back, “nah, thought it would fetch a fair price at that village a few miles away, but some lad saw me, and reported me.”
“I’m sorry,”
The man snorted, “me daughter was glad to see me go, she wanted to use the attic for the youngin’s, and with me gone, she’d ‘ave more room for ‘em.”
“Sounds rough,” Zorian grumbled,
The man shrugged, “it is, what it is.”
“Has she been starving you?” The boy asked.
“She gives us what moldin’ food she ‘as,”
“Do you eat it?”
“Course not, i ain’t a fool like these lads here,” the man scoffed, “a month back i’d seen a boy die from eatin’ the shit she gives us and just let ‘im rot down ‘ere,” he began to rant, “‘is bloody car-”
His words were cut off as a sound of the door above ringed with a creak, as footsteps traveled down the stairs. Zorians eyes followed the sound seeing a serving boy, and two other servants as he ran up to Zorians cells,
“Milord,” he cried, unlocking his cell, he held a white tunic in his hands, quickly helping Zorian into it, “milord, are you in much pain?” he asked,
The boy ignored him, “does her ladyship know you are here?”
The serving boy nodded, “she asked me to collect you so you can serve her, her mornin’ meal.” Zorian frowned, “Mertal had made sure I got you a shirt to wear.” he carried on, “Milord, we have all been so worried, milady forbade any from entering the cells, and has told us we are not to give you any food.”
Zorian swallowed, “and water?” he questioned.
One of the other servants quickly rushed to him, holding a waterskin, placing it to Zorians lips, he gulped down every last drop, till his stomach felt full. “Thank you,” he gasped. They helped the boy out of the cell and up to the main part of Harwood. Just before walking up the steps, Zorian twisted his head back to the man, “bye,” Zorian simply said,
“Gole,” the man said, “that me name, Gole.”
Zorian smirked, “well then, bye Gole.”
He was taken to the kitchens where he had but one moment to rest, all servants had came flooding to him, in a flurry of concern, Mertel took a look at his back, shaking her head at the sight, but he soon heard the shouts of his stepmother calling for him, to bring her, her food. He took the trays, balancing them within his hand, hunching his back forward, lessening the pain of the lashes.
He opened his stepmother's door with his right elbow, walking in slowly, his legs still feeling numb from the hours he had spent sitting down.
“Ah,” the woman breathed, still dressed in her cotton nightgown, he could see both his step siblings sat at her table, silent, their faces pale, Rob looked up to Zorian with a pain expression, and Zorian couldn’t help but look away, feeling somewhat ashamed. He noticed that half of Gwyns face was bruised and red, swelling larger than usual, knowing his stepmother had something to do with her injured face.
“Finally,” the woman sang as Zorian placed down the food. She smiled brightly, she looked to her window, “isn’t it just a lovely day,” she commented, “Zorian wouldn’t you say? Isn’t it a lovely day?” she looked up at him expectantly.
“Yes, my lady.” Zorian spoke dim and dry,
She hummed happily, “today could not get any more brilliant could it?” she smiled, “Zorian,” she tuned to the boy, “have a seat,” she said sweetly, her hands gesturing out to the spare chair, Zorian stood still, “go on,” she encouraged as if he were some trained dog. Zorian took a seat, “had you slept well?” she asked, Zorian did not answer, “i had, i was so excited for today. For today is the start of your new journey,” she boasted, her hand resting on his arm, “new adventures await you, my I can only imagine how thrilled you are at the thought,” she grinned. “You have no idea how hard it was to make this deal for today,” she began to ramble pouring herself some tea, taking a light sip, “i had practically given him all the money in my purse and had to give him some cargo to account for the lack of he would normally have to sell.” she told Zorian as if they were gossiping about some prudish lady at court, “anyway-" she breathed but was cut off by Zorians stepbrother.
"Who?" Rob asked, suddenly his voice quivering, he looked over to his sister for a split second, which made Zorian frown in question.
"Oh, just some thieves, rapists and a few murders from the cells. I am rather glad of the deal i could finally get some use of those dirty beggar men down there,"
"At least, I'll have some interesting company on my voyage," Zorian grumbled quietly.
“See,” his stepmother said squeezing his arm in a cruel smile, “you can already see the possibilities in your new position, and guess what?” she began, she waited for Zorian to take a guess but he didn’t, “the man will be arriving soon to collect you.” she gushed.
Zorian stared at the woman with widened eyes, “I do not even get a day here?”
“Of course not,” she dismissed taking yet another sip from her tea, Zorian then noticed how none of his step siblings had touched their food or drink, “he has many things he must deal with at port, and he must have time to brand you and chain you up so you may not escape.”
Zorian looked down at the table not knowing what to feel or think. Just in that moment his stepmother's chamber doors opened as a serving girl ran through, “milady,” she breathed slightly panicked, Zorians stepmother eyes narrowed on the heavily breathing girl, “there are a group of knights here, with the prince,” The woman rose up from her chair instantly, as both Gwyn and Rob looked at one another with surprise, Zorian glancing at the girl as if he had misheard her words. “he is asking for milo-Zorian,” she swiftly corrected.
Zorian stepmother's neck snapped down to Zorian glaring at the boy, she breathed calmingly, “do not fret,” she spoke to the girl, “i shall go down and speak to his highness.” after her words she snapped to Zorian, “and you will go down to the kitchens and stay there,” she hissed.
Zorian did not object as he rashly got up from his seat, as his stepmother was telling her children to quickly get dressed, her voice pointing especially to Gwyn.
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