In Dreams: Red

Suspicion

Thoughts tumble in and out of my mind. Just as I realize I'm falling over the edge into sleep, something will jar me awake. A new worry or idea. I really should get up and do something. The prisoner weighs most heavily on me, I should go and speak with him. Perhaps I've been wrong to let myself relax my guard around him. What if this entire time he's essentially been using me to get into my confidences to spy for the enemy? But no, I'm not entirely sure this is the truth.. Although, it could explain quite a bit of his behavior.. What about his family? That piece doesn't quite fit. I muse. Unless they were killed by my father's men, or by the Gods, worse: by the other army to force his hand! They may even be holding someone hostage to ensure his cooperation! Mentally, I'm almost shouting this at myself, it suddenly makes perfect sense to me. But then again, what about his expression? And with a quiet sigh, I review each and every time he had spoken to me, saved me, or thought I was in danger. That look of kindness, gratitude, fierce determination, worry, fear.

“Kennice, you must learn to see..” Silas admonishes me. I jerk awake from a gentle drowse, clutching the silver blade he had gifted me as a child, and the weight of everything I have experienced crashes down on me again. I allow myself a harsh gasping breath and bury my face in the bedding, sobbing as quietly as I can. My very soul feels as though it is trying to wrench itself from my chest and I simply can't breathe, just can't seem to catch my breath as my chest heaves and my body curls in on itself to try to protect me from harm. But it will never work, because the danger is inside me, and it's tearing me apart.

My eyes feel swollen and hot, and I feel utterly drained. I know immediately that I've cried myself to sleep. I remember the total drain of body and mind, and now my eyes feel swollen and hot. I still feel drained, but notice the room is blessedly dark, which means I have slept the rest of the evening away. I have not checked on Lupus, my men, nor gone to inform the other deceased's families. I haven't even gone to speak with the prisoner yet. I have many tasks that need to be taken care of. I groan and roll over, trying to avoid my responsibilities. Fresh water has been left beside my bed. I add raising Dana's salary to my list of tasks to do. I take a grateful drink and then splash some on my face, hoping to reduce the swelling caused by my tears. I stumble to the end of the bed and reach for clothing in the chest, not knowing nor caring what outfit I've pulled out. I struggle into it in the dark, pulling it on over my shift and tuck the silver blade into the outer corset-belt designed to cinch the whole outfit together. Blindly, I reach for the new red cloak and pull it towards me, tossing it around my shoulders to close it at the throat and pull the hood up in hopes of getting through at least part of my tasks without being interrupted.

Upon opening the door, the light nearly blinds me and I groan in frustration as I'm forced to spend a few moments blinking, in an attempt to keep my eyes open. Once my eyes adjust, I sweep down the hallway as quickly as I can. My first errand is to check on Lupus, my poor faithful friend, who I have quite abandoned in all the commotion. As I'm rushing towards the stables, I'm very lucky to see very few people until I reach the courtyard, which is full of activity and light. Arms are being distributed, messengers run to and fro, and there are many groups of people milling around discussing recent events. Villagers mingle here and there among the soldiers, there appear to be work crews repairing the walls. Torches and watch-fires are everywhere. I slip around the edges of the courtyard, trying to reach the stables, managing to evade most eyes, or so I thought, until a strong hand grips my arm when I pass a group standing around a fire.

“My Lady.” Reginald greets me quietly. “May I accompany you?” I groan internally. And I was so close to getting to the first of my tasks uninterrupted.

“Of course Reginald, but I'm only headed to the stables.” I respond, somewhat disgruntled. Reginald takes my arm in a polite and courtly manner, escorting me across the courtyard.

“I understand you told your father that you believe the prisoner is a spy?” Reginald asks me as we walk.

“I think it may fit. Every action he's made so far seems to point to it. Why was he so willing to come with us with so little fuss?” I answer uncomfortably. The idea still weighs heavily on me, and I cannot but help feel foolish for allowing the prisoner access to the castle if it is true. On the other hand, that one voice continues to whisper in the back of my mind that something doesn't quite fit as well as I'd like it to.

“You mustn't blame yourself for bringing him in. You made the decision any of us would have thought best at the time.” Even if my father cannot see how unsettled I am that I possibly made the greatest mistake of my life and doomed us all, it appears Reginald can. I pull him to a stop and look at him.

“How is it that your logical little mind always knows what's going on without anyone ever telling you?” I sigh. Reginald merely bows politely to me and once again takes my arm to lead me into the stables where I see Lupus and the other horses are just fine. I breathe a sigh of relief. I needn't have worried, but Lupus is quite dear to my heart and I made it my habit to check him after every journey. I pat his neck and murmur to him while looking him over for sores or injuries. Except for a few tender places where the sled has rubbed, he appears to have been quite lucky on this trip.

“About the deceased men-has anyone notified the families?” I ask Reginald.

“I personally informed Ogden and Weylin's families, my Lady. Tyrus was more familiar with Berton's family and requested to inform them himself. I apologize if you wished to do this yourself.” He tells me.

“No, no, I'm grateful. But I do believe a visit from either my father or myself really should take place.” I answer him, sighing inwardly. I did not wish to play the part of death again this evening.

“Have we had any word yet about the approaching army?” I question Reggie

“I understand your father dispatched riders and awaits their return. I'm afraid I couldn't gather much more from the scuttlebutt about it.” He replies. I turn from Lupus, I'm satisfied he'll be alright.

“I would like to visit the families of the deceased now.” I say. “Provided, of course, they are available at this hour.” With all the commotion going on, I was sure they would be. Reggie takes my arm and escorts me from the stables. Each of these visits is very much like the last and they all blur into one in my mind. As I had grown, my father had assigned more of these types of responsibilities to me. This was an especially important task if the men worked or died under my care, or if I knew them personally. We didn't lose many men, except during battles, but every patrol had its risks, and losses did happen, even on the most routine of these.

I steel myself at the first house. Ogden's. As expected, the household was wide awake. We knock politely and gain entrance. Much like Helena's I announce my sorrow at Ogden's death and explain how he died a noble death attempting to protect and serve the kingdom he had sworn himself to. I made my apologies for not being able to retrieve the body, and my promises that once things were more calm, a party would be dispatched to punish those responsible for Ogden's death, and to hopefully bring the remains home for a proper burial. I promised my family's aid and service if they should need it, and said kind words about the deceased.

It was much the same at the other men's houses. At each house, my condolences are accepted, and each seemed slightly mollified that the Lady herself came to inform them of the death of their loved ones. Eventually, the task is done. Stepping out of the last house, I slump over and breathe a sigh of relief. This is the worst task given to me, and I hate it with a passion. It only comforts me to know that if the situation were reversed, having the actual “royalty”, or someone I knew, drop by to make apologies would be much better received than if a random emissary was sent. Unfortunately though, the task has taken much of the day, each family insisting we stay for a period of time to discuss the family member at length, plying Reginald and I with food and drink and conversation, and now it's already getting late. Even clean, pressed Reginald is beginning to show the wear.

“Go home Reggie, get some sleep.” I tell him softly, giving him a push towards his quarters.

“But, my Lady, what are you intending to do? Shouldn't I accompany you?” Reggie asks, alarmed. I have the feeling he knows or senses I'm not quite done for the day.

“I'll be headed back to my rooms shortly myself.” I tell him. “Now go! I'll call for you, Corwin and Tyrus tomorrow morning so we can discuss everything I left out in my story earlier. I have some details I think you might be able to see a different perspective on and give me your opinions. Besides, you all risked your lives for this and deserve to know.” Reggie looks at me doubtfully, but a huge yawn takes him over and I laugh slightly.

“Go! I need sleep myself, I'll see you on the morrow.” I instruct. Reginald nods and bows to me politely and briskly.

“My Lady.” He responds formally.

“Goodnight Reg.” I answer with a smile. He turns smartly on one heel and leaves, heading toward his officer's quarters and bed. Of course I have absolutely no intentions of going straight home. I wait until Reggie is out of sight, then pull the hood of my new red cape back up to hide my face. I begin a brisk walk towards the inner courtyards. I hurry down a stone hallway where my footsteps echo loudly and cross another courtyard before I reach my goal, the entrance to the courtyard where the prisoner is being kept. I exchange a few quick words with the guard and learn that new chains have been installed. I also hear that the prisoner is still being the kind, easygoing, cooperative fellow of before, even though it appears the bindings cause him discomfort. I enter quietly, determined to just observe for a few moments. Inside is an arena of sorts with four low stone walls and wooden stands behind them for spectators. They are not connected however, and the public entrance opens up in one of the gaps between two sets of stands and two walls.

I have a clear view of the prisoner, though I'm not certain that he can see me. He stands in almost the exact center of the arena. All around him in a large circle are torches and lighting aimed in his direction, probably blinding him to anything outside the circle. Lamps with the shutters closed on the sides opposite the prisoner allow for guards to keep an eye on him. He is standing very still, shoulders slumped, head hung downward as though he has given up all life when I enter. A ring is fastened about his neck, wrists and ankles, with the chain strung from his neck down to his sternum and branching off to his wrists and ankles. The rings around his wrists are attached to metal spikes driven into the ground on each side of him, and the one at his throat attaches to spikes before and behind him. He cannot move very far in any direction, and if I didn't know what he was capable of, I'd think the measures were a bit excessive. A part of me still twinges with guilt when thinking of how he had saved me so many times.

I take a step or two forward quietly. Almost instantly, the prisoner's head snaps up and jerks in my direction. I stop moving for a moment, and realize based on the way he is squinting, he can't see me, but I see his nose twitch and a gentle smile plays across his face. I begin walking forward again and his head tilts to the side a bit as if listening to my footsteps approach. I have a feeling he knows exactly who is approaching him from outside the circle of light, and I hesitate, uncertain of how to proceed. Or rather where to start.

“My Lady.” The prisoner murmurs quietly.