In Dreams: Red

A Small Detour

I stand outside the arena watching the prisoner for a few moments, leaning against the entrance with my arms crossed. I realize I'm chewing on my bottom lip as I turn over and over the strange coincidences surrounding this man, but the thing that strikes me most right now is his posture. When unobserved, it appears he lets down his guard. He has sunk to his knees and his hands dangle limply in front of him. His head is bowed. He looks.. utterly defeated, and tired, in a way I'm not entirely sure how or why but I feel I understand deep in my soul. A breeze blows my hair into my face and I brush it back behind my ear absently. The prisoner suddenly looks up and warily stands, slowly.

“I know you're there, my Lady.” He calls across the arena to me. I consider not answering, but step into the arena anyway and walk towards him at an unhurried pace. “I'm surprised you came back after our last.. conversation.” He remarks. I snort.

“Argument you mean.” I retort. He shrugs helplessly and the movement reveals the rash at his neck has become worse. It's now a leaking, oozing mess. I gasp and rush forward.

“Heavens, don't you ever complain?” I cry and bend, grabbing the blade at my waist and pull up my skirts, baring my shift and cutting off a large swatch. “Honestly, if this is all some misguided attempt at pride..” I mutter to myself as I wrap a large piece around his throat and tie it to try to protect his skin from some effects of the metal.

“And what good would it do to complain, my Lady?” His voice is right beside my ear and softly murmured, in an almost seductive rumble. I back up swiftly and look at him with my arms crossed.

“I don't know how others have treated you in your lifetime but we're not like that.” I retort.

“No, my Lady. You're not like that perhaps.” The prisoner meets my gaze steadily. “From the way you tear your own clothing to make a prisoner comfortable, to the way you treat your men and your steed, I could tell you weren't quite the same. But you've come too late for me.” He turns away and allows himself to sink back down to his knees.

“What do you mean by that?” I ask him, my brow furrowed. I kneel in front of him as he ignores me. “What do you mean I've come too late?” I reach out a hesitant hand towards him, but he shifts away. With a sigh, I stand. “Well, I've got things to do.” I turn on a heel and begin to stride away from him.

“My Lady!” The prisoner calls from behind me. I stop, but don't look back. “Thank you, my Lady. I don't deserve your care, but it is a great comfort, here at the end of my life.” I stiffen, and turn back to him to retort, but he's once again facing away from me.

“It wouldn't have to be the end for you if you'd let me help.” I murmur. I see him twitch and have the distinct impression he's heard me despite my soft tone.

As soon as I arrive at the Library, I immediately feel as though I'm late. Reggie, Corwin and Tyrus are already there. They are seated around a long wooden table with many chairs, books and maps spread around them. It appears they are still discussing the invasion and our ambush intentions, but they immediately go quiet when I approach.

"My Lady." Reginald says as the three stand, but I motion for them to sit.

“Am I the last to arrive then?" I ask.

"No, Lady, it is just us for now." Corwin answers.

"We thought you might be here early, and might be glad of the company." Tyrus speaks up.

"I am glad of the company, gentlemen. But I must ask-have any of you even slept or eaten or anything?" I question them. There were murmured assents from them, so I at least did not feel guilty for them being here to support me.

"Well, a young gentleman by the name of Peter will be here shortly with food from the kitchens, there may not be much, I know he'll bring whatever he can carry-but you're all welcome to share it if you'd like." I say. I immediately head for a chair off to the side of the table and gratefully sink down into it. It is one of a very few large chairs, it is covered and stuffed, a rarity I had to beg my Father to have placed here. In a completely unladylike manner I throw my legs over one arm, being careful that my skirts stay tucked nicely around me, and lean my head back into the crook formed between the side and back of the chair. An exhausted sigh escapes from me. I hear a light chuckle from Corwin, and turn to glare at him.

"I apologize my Lady, but you have well made yourself comfortable." Corwin replies to my glare.

"It's not my fault you didn't take the opportunity while you had it." I retort. Corwin grins slightly in reply.

"Very true." He says. "Though it would be most ungentlemanly of me to do so.” I look for something to throw at him, but can find nothing immediately on hand, so settle with another glare. Tyrus snickers while Reginald clears his throat, importantly.

"If you two have finished?..." Reginald asks.

"Oh, by all means, I did in no way mean to interrupt your conversation. I'm very interested in hearing it myself. Please continue" I answer earnestly, but still throw another glare at Corwin when I'm through.

"Alright, well it's my opinion that these tunnels are ideal." Reginald states, pointing to three areas on a map. “There is heavy tree cover at each location and it will be easy to disappear among them after each ambush."

“Yes, but the problem still remains, we cannot be certain where the army will set up, if they don't choose to just simply surround the castle. I'm not too happy with the idea of running across any amount of open space before or after an attack, if they should position themselves far away from these tunnels.” Tyrus argues pointedly.

"I second that! I say wait until we know their positions! A stray arrow is all it takes, and who knows how many archers..." Corwin jumps in.

"My Lady, My Lady!" I'm being shaken awake urgently. Ugh-I had no intentions of falling asleep!

"Yes, thank you I'm quite awake now!" I tell the person shaking me. I blink blearily, attempting to see who is shaking me. Young Peter comes into view.

"I saved you an apple, and some bread and butter. But I'm not sure what else is left. I'm sorry they wouldn't let me wake you until the other men arrived. They said you hadn't gotten enough sleep lately and that they'd send me back to mother if I woke you too early. Did I do good? Did I?" Peter anxiously asks me.

"You did perfectly." I tell Peter kindly. "These guys will never steer you wrong." I whisper confidentially. "Did you eat enough?" I question him.

"Uh-huh, I mean, yes my Lady.” He replies.

"Good, now where's my apple?" I tease mischievously and grinning, he runs off to fetch it for me, I swing my legs off the chair arm, they have gone tingly. While waiting for the tingling feeling to fade, I look around the room. The other proposed members of the team have arrived.