Sides of War

Chapter Twenty-Five: Promise

The scent of food made Jorlin stir, then slowly open her eyes. In front of her placed on the floor was a small plate of bread and ham. As she sat up she noticed an empty plate in Asher's cell. Her eyes traveled upward and saw him stretched out, munching on the food.

"Morning," he said quietly with a small smile.

"Morning," she replied absent-mindedly, already scarfing down the food on the plate before her.

"I think it's morning," he said, watching her eat ravenously. "Hard to tell all the way down here? While you were sleeping Draven brought us some food. Breakfast, I assume."

It wasn't in his nature for Draven to go out of his way for something like this, but Jorlin was too hungry to care.

Asher, noting the way she scarfed down her food almost instantaneously, asked, "When was the last time you ate?"

She shrugged. "Sometime yesterday." When Asher raised an eyebrow she added, "I had some dried meat for lunch on the way here. How much do they feed you?"

"Enough," he replied. "More than what you get, by the sound of it."

"I'm fine," she reassured.

"Jorlin, you've lost weight since I left Auld Town. I can tell even under all those clothes. You need to keep up your strength."

"I told you I'll be fine," she said harshly.

Asher closed his mouth and stared at the bars separating them.

After a long time of silence, Jorlin heard the dungeon door open then swing shut, followed by footsteps heading her way.

"Jorlin?" The voice belonged to Jamath. "Are you in here?"

"Aye," she returned, his footsteps getting steadily louder.

He appeared in the pool of light in front of her, glancing around the prison uneasily. He was already fitted in battle armor and had a shield slung over his back. "Come, I want to show you something," he said.

Jorlin sighed, annoyed. "Does it have to be right now?"

Jamath ignored her when he saw Asher, who was sitting on the floor staring up at the stranger curiously. "Hello, there!" he said cheerfully. He turned to Jorlin. "Is this Asher?"

She nodded, and Jamath squatted down near him, holding out his gloved hand through the bars. "I'm Jamath. I'm a friend of Jorlin's."

Asher shook his hand and nodded with a small smile.

Jorlin cleared her throat. "I asked if it has to be now."

"Oh," said Jamath, straightening up, "right. Preferably."

She slowly got to her feet, her body achy and sore. "I'll see you later, Ash."

"Aye. Farewell," he said.

Jorlin followed Jamath out of the dungeon and guardhouse. It was late morning, and the sun struggled to break free of the dark clouds as it climbed higher into the sky. The wind was bitterly cold, and people hid their hands and faces in their clothes as they passed through. Jorlin and Jamath had some trouble navigating around the large groups of soldiers, but she managed to keep up as she followed him.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"What?" he asked loudly over the commotion.

"Where are we going?" she repeated.

"The armory," he replied. "There's some armor for you."

"I have my armor," she said. "My chainmail tunic is in the keep. I have vambraces, too."