7Rae woke with cold stone pressed against her cheek and a dull ache throbbing through her skull, starting on the back of her head. She pushed her hands against the filthy stone floor, bringing her face away from the ground and peering about in the near-darkness. She was in a small room, with barely enough space for her lanky form to lie across the floor. The only light that pushed through the cold air came from a small window in a thick wooden door to her right. She sat all the way up, bringing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her cold arms around them. Her body felt like ice and she began to rub her fingers together and try to bring back feeling. When she'd accomplished this, she ran her hands over the rest of her body, searching for weapons. Her sword was, of course, gone and the dagger she kept tucked in her boot was missing as well. She hadn't been carrying her bow or staff that night and she was therefore left weaponless.
The ache in the back of her head refused to diminish and she reached a tingling hand back to feel through her short, black curls. She found a wide bump, sensitive to the slightest touch, growing beneath her hair. She winced, pulling in a sharp breath as she felt dried blood matting her hair down. The blow to her head had been more than a means to send her into unconsciousness; it had been a vicious attack. She rubbed her cold arms, wondering who could have done this to her. She didn't owe anyone money to any of the city bosses. Sure, she'd pissed a few people off that week, but that happened every week of her life.
Unable to handle the darkness any longer she slowly stood up, making sure her footing was steady. Her legs were a little wobbly, but she was good enough. She stepped up to the heavy door, putting her hands on the short iron bars in the small window. "Hey!" she said. "What the hell's going on?"
"Quiet!" someone else said from down the hall.
She pushed her face forward, trying to see whom she was talking to. "No!" she said back, catching a glimpse of a tall man cloaked in green. "I want to know why I'm here. This is the royal prison, isn't it?"
The man stepped closer, revealing to Rae that he was quite handsome. His brown hair was wavy, curling in short wisps. His eyes were green, glowing in the dim prison light. He was young, in his early twenties. "Yes, it is the royal prison," he said, glaring at her. "And if you don't shut up you're going to find yourself in a lot of trouble."
Rae snorted. "What are you gonna do? Beat me up?" She knew she was acting rather cocky for someone locked in a four by five prison cell, but she was too angry to care.
The man's eyes widened and he slid his hand over the hilt of his sword. "Or worse," he said. But his threat didn't come off very threatening.
Rae laughed. "Okay," she said. "Let's see it."
He frowned, shaking his head. "Well," he said. "I'm busy right now. I'll see what I can do later." He turned on his heel and walked down the hall and out of Rae's sight once more.
She laughed again and turned back into her cell. Now that she was fully awake she was very angry at being locked in the royal prison for a crime she hadn't committed. She craned her neck to the side, stretching out her sore muscles. She stretched her arms out too, and then her legs, working the kinks from each of her tired muscles. When she'd stretched every muscle she could think to exercise, she sat down and waited, avoiding the rotting straw in the corners of the room.
After about twenty minutes she could hear heavy footsteps coming down the hall. She estimated that there were about five men and she stood up, waiting for them. They halted outside her cell and she heard the key turn in the lock, resonating a loud click throughout the stone room and hallway outside. "Come out here," she heard a gruff voice say.
She obliged, ready to leave the cramped space. Outside, in the hall, she was met by five sturdy men in green uniforms. Four of them stood behind, holding their hands behind their backs. Rae saw that one of them was the handsome fellow she'd spoken to earlier. She smiled at him, and he pretended not to notice. In front of them, stood the final man, slightly older than the rest of them, and his uniform was decorated in gold trim. "Raeli Kusta?" he asked.
She nodded. "That's my name," she said solemnly. "Why have you brought me here?"
He smiled, his thin lips curling back. "I think you know the answer to that question," he said snidely. He looked her up and down, examining her scuffed and wrinkled clothes. "Come," he said at last and turned and walked down the hall.
Two of the other men each grabbed one of her arms and led her firmly down the wide hallway. They passed seven or eight cells on each side, some of them filled with eerie sounds. The last door in the hall was a little different from the others. It was made of a nicer wood, and there was no window in its sturdy frame. The man led them into this door, pushing it inward to reveal another bare stone room. This one, however, had torches on three of its walls and several wooden stools in the center of the floor. It was also twice the size of Rae's cell.
"Have a seat," the tall man said, running one hand through his silver hair and motioning toward one of the stools with the other.
Rae obliged again, sitting down on the rough wood, crossing her slender arms. "Now, why am I here?" she asked. She felt as if she were talking to a wall.
"All in good time," he said, shooing the other men outside with the wave of the hand. They shut the door and, with an ominous click, locked it. The tall man circled Rae a couple of times and then sat down on the other stool. The room was very bright in the torch light and there seemed to be another glow coming from the walls. He looked at Rae, sizing her up and then leaned forward. "This will be very painless," he said, "If you just confess to your crimes."
Rae frowned. "What crimes?" she asked, keeping her arms tight across her chest. "I haven't done anything."
He shook his head. "I suppose we'll have to do this the hard way," he said sighing. "And you were so beautiful. "First, answer me this. How do you know Beirn Floren?"
She frowned, surprised. This was all about Beirn? She scowled at the tall man in front of her. "He's an old friend," she said. "I've barely spoken with him in months." She paused. "Now can I ask you a question?"
He shrugged, slowly pulling the pale green glove from his left hand.
"Who are you?"
"Ahh yes, I apologize for not introducing myself," he said, beginning to remove the other glove. "My name is Varial Morstofa, Captain Varial Morstofa." He smiled smugly at her. "Now, you say you haven't spoken with Beirn in months?"
"Well, no," Rae admitted. "I did talk to him briefly tonight."
"About the assassination?" Morstofa asked nonchalantly, looking up from his hands to look into Rae's face.
"What?" Rae frowned and raised her eyebrows. "What assassination?"
"I see," he said, standing up. "You're going to deny any knowledge of it?"
"Knowledge of what?" she asked. "I don't even know who you're accusing me of plotting against."
He moved the stool he'd been sitting on to the side of the room and set his green gloves on top of the round wooden surface. "I thought that was obvious," he said, unhooking the clasp at his throat and letting his green cape flutter from his shoulders. He dropped that onto the stool as well and moved toward Rae. "The King."
Rae jumped up, knocking her stool back against the dusty stone floor. "Now, listen here," she said. "I don't know anything about any assassination attempts on the king," she said angrily, dropping her arms and glaring at Morstofa.
He began to laugh. "We know you're in on it," he said. "There's no question of that. The only question we need answered is how much you know."
"This is unbelievable," she said. "What the hell…" She was at a loss for words.
"We found the letter," Morstofa said, pulling a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. We only need the key from you. We know you're involved with Seeimic, Raeli."
"Key?" Rae asked.
"To crack the code," he said. "We don't believe for a moment that this is a simple letter to your grandmother."
"I don't have a living grandmother!" Rae exclaimed, without thinking. "You aren't making any sense."
Morstofa sighed. "Well, if you're going to make this difficult, we have ways to deal with that too." He stepped over and rapped sharply on the wooden door. It clicked and swung open. One of the men stepped in from the hall. He was a rather short fellow, with straight black hair, cut very short. His hands and face were covered in thick scars and Rae wondered if the rest of his body looked the same. "You and Pince come in here and… convince this young lady that she needs to tell us how to break the code," Morstofa said.
The short man nodded and disappeared, only to reenter the room a moment later followed by another fellow, apparently Pince. He was a little taller than the scarred man, with even darker hair. He had a black beard and moustache as well, taking up half his face and making him look like a wild man. Before he could close the door behind him, Morstafa stopped him. "Clent," he called. Why don't you come in and watch this." He smiled and turned to Pine. "The new ones always take a while to get used to the way we work," he said. Pince laughed. His voice was low and gruff.
The young man that Rae had spoken with earlier stepped into the room, his green eyes wide, betraying his fear. However, Morstofa, Pince and the man with the scars didn't seem to notice or care and he slipped into the corner, feigning interest in the process.
"Pince, Kintch," Morstofa said, swiping his hand at the girl.
The two men stepped forward. "You sure you don't wanna talk, girl?" Kintch asked, putting his scarred and little hand onto her shoulder. "It would make it easier on me."
Rae tried to squirm from his touch but he grabbed her with both his arms. "Let go of me," she said. "I don't know what you're talking about!"
Pince laughed and moved forward to join his companion. "I like it when they fight back."