Matthew sat on the cold stone floor of his cell. The thick iron bars that surrounded him allowed him to examine the larger room that his cell was a part of. The room was empty, except for cells identical to his own, most of them empty, though there were a few that held other men. Matthew made note of the fact that no women were in the room. He was not sure why. He knew he had seen women arrested in the past. He thought that they must keep them separate from the men.
He welcomed the stone beneath him. It cooled him, both body and mind. The rage from earlier that day frightened him. He had never lost control like that before. Even when thinking back on Tavira, eyes wide, hands and shirt covered in blood, the anger that welled up was not as overwhelming as he had felt before.
Maybe it’s because the man responsible is dead, Matthew thought, By the weave, I killed a man! What was I thinking?
He had asked himself that very question what seemed like a hundred times since it happened. He had tried to piece everything together. There were too many unanswered questions, too many mysteries to make sense of everything. Why stab Tavira? It could not have been a random happening. Matthew had seen the man multiple times while on the street. He had seemed to be following them. Tavira was no one important, at least not to anyone outside the crew. Who would want her dead?
The other question that plagued him is why so many of the guards were there so quickly? They were just guards, none of the soldiers that had been helping patrol. It seemed as if they were prepared to deal with a dead man. It was almost as if they knew it was all going to happen.
Matthew pushed the questions aside. They were not going to help him now. He had been told by the guard that put him in his cell that Matthew was going to be questioned by the Captain of the Guard. Matthew was not looking forward to the meeting. The guards had not been very gentle with Matthew. He assumed they would have been worse had Alexander not been with them the entire trip to the prison.
What is his part in all of this? Matthew’s mind started again, I just so happen to run into him on the streets on the day that Tavira is attacked and I kill a man? Burn my thread, I can’t help but feel that I’m just a piece in some huge game.
The door to the room of cells flew open and a large guard stepped in. Matthew stood, making sure his hands were in clear view, placing them through the bars. He was sure that the guard was there for him. The other men in their cells appeared to have been there a while, at least long enough to have been questioned for their crimes.
The guard strode to Matthew’s cell, “Put your hands on your head,” the man ordered in a scratchy voice. Matthew did as he was told. The man proffered a large key and opened the door to his cell. Matthew stepped out and waited as the man placed his hands in heavy manacles, keeping them tight together.
The man led Matthew out of the dank room and down a hall to another room. In the room were two chairs. The guard shoved Matthew toward one of the chairs and ordered him to sit down before shutting the door. There was a heavy click as a lock was set into place on the door.
Matthew sit in silence, waiting for what was to come. After what seemed like hours, Matthew heard voices outside the door. He could not make out what was being said through the thick wood of the door, but he could get an idea of the mood of each speaker by their tone. One of the men seemed to be explaining something, while the other seemed to be trying to maintain a level of understanding under the anger present.
The lock clicked and the door opened. Matthew stood and almost almost sighed as he saw Alexander step through the door, though he stiffened by the muscular man that stepped in behind him. The man wore a uniform of the High Guard of Garlin.
“Matthew, are you okay?” Alexander asked, concern present in his voice.
Matthew nodded, not wanting to speak for fear that the large man would berate him, or worse, strike him.
“So your name is Matthew?” The large man said. His deep voice filled the small room and caused Matthew to swallow.
“Yes sir,” he said, trying to show as much respect as he could.
“Sit down boy,” the man said. His tone was not one of suggestion so Matthew sat back down, “Do you deny killing a man in the streets today?” He asked, locking eyes with Matthew.
“No sir,” Matthew replied, surprised at the steadiness of his voice.
The man nodded, “The lieutenant here tells me that the man you killed stabbed someone in the streets. A friend of yours. A young girl.”
“Yes, Tavira. Is she okay?” Matthew almost stood again, but froze at a look from the guard.
“She is going to be okay,” Alexander explained, “Vansen got her to Miktan and a healer was brought to her.”
Tension melted from Matthew. He had not realized how tense he had been until that moment.
“Yes, the girl will be fine,” the guard said, glancing to Alexander, “However, you have admitted to killing a man. Regardless of the reasons, that is a crime.”
Matthew stared at the floor, nodding in understanding, “I know, and I take any punishment given to me.”
“Of course you will, willingly or not,” the guard said, almost laughing, “But, first I want to get some things straight. Do you know who that man that you attacked was?”
“No,” Matthew said, pausing to think before continuing, “I noticed him a few times in the street today, I think he may have been following us.”
“Why? For what reason would he follow you?” The guard asked, “Did you wrong him in some way? Did you attack him or his family before today?”
Matthew searched his mind. He thought for a moment about Lord Danar. He knew that the man must have been furious that someone had managed to get into his vault and take something from him. There was no way that the he would know who robbed him however. There was nothing that would have led him to the crew, to Tavira. Not unless someone in the crew ratted you out, Matthew crushed the thought, not wanting to believe that anyone in the crew would go that far.
“No, I didn’t recognize him at all. I almost didn’t notice him at all until after he stabbed Tavira,” Matthew explained.
“So, a man stabs your friend for no reason and you expect me to believe that you had nothing to do with the reason?” The guard was looming over Matthew now.
“Captain Russent,” Alexander started, “I may have a suggestion. The boy and his friends were walking with me. There are those in Garlin that are less than pleased by the military’s presence here. It is possible the attack was related to me.”
“Then why not stab you?” The Captain asked, spinning on the other man.
Alexander raised a hand in an attempt to calm the man, “If he would have stabbed me, he would have had the entirety of the men stationed here after him. To attack a man of the army is as if you attacked every man in his unit,” Alexander explained, “However, in attacking the girl, there would be nothing tying it directly to my men.”
The guard thought for a moment before speaking, “Perhaps. None of this seems to make sense at all though. We still don’t even know who the man was, let alone why it is he attacked anyone.”
The room was silent while Captain Russent thought. Finally he spoke, “Boy, I understand why it is you did what you did, but I can’t excuse it. I’m going to have to keep you here until one of the High Lords can hear your case. It’s up to them what happens to you.
Matthew slumped. It was unlikely any of the High Lords would give him any chance. They would see a boy that lived on the streets that had killed a man for no more reason than stabbing another useless member of society. They may have well killed him then.
“Can I speak with him a moment Captain,” Alexander said, looking at the other man in the room, “alone? Just for a short while?”
The guard looked Matthew over before nodded and striking a fist to the heavy wooden door. The lock was released and the door open, letting the Captain out.
Once the door had been shut again, Alexander took up the other chair in the small room, “I’ll go and try to speak with Lord Kensly to hear your case. I’ve no doubt that he will listen to what happened and release you.”
Matthew continued to stare at the floor, “That’s if one of the other lords doesn’t take this chance to cleanse the city of one more of its rabble.”
“Don’t give up,” the older man said, “Tavira is waiting to see you. Even if no one else is, she is grateful for what you did.”
Matthew looked up and forced a smile. Alexander did the same before standing and knocking on the door. He left and that guard that had brought him from his cell returned him to it. Matthew sat against the wall. He was sure that he would never leave the cell again and never see Tavira or any of the others again.
———————
Jaron sat in his room. He had been given the entire day from his lessons to do as he wished, but Matthew’s words still haunted his mind. He had spent a good part of the day reading reports he had requested. The reports told of the spendings of the city of Garlin. He made note that of all the houses, high or not, House Kensly was among only three that gave money to the city for the purpose of supporting those in need. He was appalled as he continued to read where money did go to instead.
His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his door, “Come in,” he said, setting a book he had intended to read before getting lost in his thought.
A servant dressed in the purple and yellow colors of House Kensly stepped in and gave a deep bow before speaking, “My Lord, Lady Celes Debeart is requesting an audience with you.”
Jaron’s brow furrowed as he thought of why Celes would want to speak with him, “Yes, escort her to a sitting room and then come retrieve me when she is settled. Be sure that chilled wine and some fruit is brought to her.”
The servant nodded before bowing again and moving back out the door. Jaron continued to think what purpose the woman would have for visiting him. Surely she did not think that he had any intention of being a suitor.
Perhaps she too is troubled by what she heard Matthew say last night, Jaron thought.
His mind wandered until there was another knock at the door. This time Jaron moved to the door and opened it. The same servant was standing outside.
“Lady Debeart is waiting,” he said respectively.
Jaron motioned for him to lead the way. The servant deftly navigated the passageways of the manor. Jaron suspected that the man knew the halls better than he himself did. It was not that there were that many halls to learn, at least not in relation to the great keeps of the other houses.
Jaron had always been glad of his father’s conservative attitude when it came to their home. He did not believe that he would have liked living in one of the stone keeps the other noble’s kept. There were those that believed the manor estate was a sign that House Kensly was weak. The other High Lords however knew better.
Finally the servant stopped before a door to one of the sitting rooms and opened it for Jaron. He stepped through the door as Celes stood to greet him. Her dress, a similar cut to the one she wore the night before, if not as extravagant, was a rich green color that stood out against the colors of the sitting room. Her hair was not as finely done as it had been during the banquet, but even in its simplicity, it radiated beauty.
“Lord Kensly,” Celes said, her soft voice flowing through the room, “I am so glad that you could see me on such short notice.”
Jaron motioned for her to sit and he made his way to one of the plush, high-backed chairs that sat around the low table in the center of the room, “Of course Lady Debeart, it is an honor to speak with you. To what honor do I owe this visit?”
She sat, sitting straight in the chair across from him, “I was giving some thought to what you were saying last night, about the want for some excitement,” Jaron tried to hide any emotion, but he could feel his eyebrows rise slightly, “I have heard tell that there is something beneath the city. Something that could be dangerous if found by the wrong people.”
Jaron’s brow began to furrow in confusion as Celes continued, “My Uncle would like to investigate the matter, and possibly retrieve whatever it is, but he is torn in trying to find people he could trust the job to.”
“And you believe that I could be trusted to such a task? Why not simply hire men to carry it out?” Jaron asked, his voice steady as he spoke.
“He would, knowing that there are few things that some men value over gold. He fears however, that should such men retrieve this item, and should it be as dangerous as he believes, he fears that they would use it for their own means,” Celes voice was soft, yet firm at the same time, like stone wrapped in silk.
“Then why not go to the men sent here from the army?” Jaron thought back to his father’s conversations with some of the people from the night before, “From what I understand they are still awaiting orders and I am sure that they would be more than capable of carrying out such a task.”
Celes gave a small laugh before speaking, “You no doubt know of my Uncle’s feelings towards the military. However, he has decided to speak with Captain Edbar on the matter, though he holds little faith that he would find worthy men, or that any would give him aid.”
Jaron nodded, understanding what it was Celes was referring to. Lord Bething was not known for kindness, especially when it came to anyone from the military. He doubted that any of the men would give him anything but the same in response.
“So you see,” Celes continued, “I have been tasked with finding those that would be trustworthy. Your family is known for it’s generosity towards this city. What better way to protect its people people than to remove an item that could potentially destroy them.”
A question struck Jaron that had been scratching at the back of his mind, yet almost hidden, “It is no offense towards your family, but what would your Uncle do with such a thing? And what sort of item could threaten all of Garlin?”
Jaron thought he saw anger flash across Celes’ face, but it was gone almost as soon as it was there, “My Uncle intends to turn the item over to the council of the High Lords, that they all may decide what to do with it. As for what the item is, I am not entirely sure. My Uncle found some old tomes and scrolls that spoke of an item of power, an item tied directly to the threads of power. He fears that such an item could be used as a weapon.”
Jaron’s head spun. He tried to reason out what Celes was telling him, but he was having trouble focusing. His mind was muddy. He thought that perhaps he was taking too much in at once, between what Celes was telling him and what he had been researching earlier that day. His mind began to clear and he began to agree with what Celes was saying.
“Yes,” he said, “if there is something that could harm the people of Garlin, I would be more than willing to help keep it from those that would use it for less than noble deeds.”
“Excellent,” Celes said almost before the words had left his mouth, “Now, I apologize for having to leave so soon, but I had best get back before my Uncle begins to worry about where I have run off to. I will be sure to inform him of your willingness to help and you should receive the information of where you should be when soon.”
Jaron nodded, standing as she hurried out of the room. His mind seemed clearer now, but he was still trying to puzzle together what exactly had just happened.
———————————-
Matthew sat in the chair to the small room once again. The guard had woken him and nearly drug him from his cell. He had not even bothered to put the manacles around his wrists. He sat, unbound, in a locked room, alone.
The door opened and two large guards stepped in. Behind them followed Celes Debeart, her deep green dress hugged her hips and bosom, but covered everything. Her beauty seemed to fill the room with light, though the single torch mounted to the wall was the only true source.
“You may leave us,” Celes said, command filling her voice.
The guards looked at her, eyes wide with surprise, “But my lady,” one of them spoke, “this man is a murderer!”
Celes fixed her eyes on the man’s face, “I believe that he will harm no one, especially me.”
The two looked at each other, torn between protecting the lovely woman and following her orders. Finally they bowed, saying they would be just outside the door, before leaving the room.
Celes sat in the other chair. The filth of the small, dank room did not seem to effect her. Her blue eyes met Matthew’s dark green. They seemed to sit there in silence, staring into one another’s eyes for all of eternity. Looking into those eyes, Matthew thought he could live the rest of his live in a cell and die happy.
“Matthew,” Celes finally said, looking away, “I heard of what happened and was worried. Are you well?”
Matthew was stunned at first that one such as Celes would show concern to someone like him, but he spoke, “Well enough I suppose. You shouldn’t worry about me.”
“Nonsense, noble or not, you are important to me,” she said. Matthew’s heart leapt, “I had to be sure that you were okay.”
“I’m fine,” Matthew said, still stunned by her words, “I’m not sure for how long, but for the time being at least.”
“What do you mean?” She asked, her eyes meeting eyes again.
Burn my thread, a man could get lost in those eyes and be happy doing it, he thought. He spoke, “It seems that I have to wait until a High Lord hears my case before I can learn of what my fate will be.”
“That’s splendid,” Celes said with what seemed like excitement in her smooth voice.
Matthew raised an eyebrow, “I’m not sure I share your opinion.”
“My Uncle is a High Lord,” she said, “I’m sure I could convince him to hear your case.”
“Lord Bething?” Matthew asked, “I can’t say I would be too sure that he would be likely to do anything but sentence me to be killed.”
“Nonsense. My Uncle has a reputation of being a tough man, but in truth, he is fair and just. He just holds no tolerance for bad behavior,” Celes explained.
“Do you truly think he would hear me out?” Matthew asked.
“I do,” Celes stated, “However, I will need you to do something for me.”
Matthew did not hesitate, “Anything!” He agreed.
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