7: Pit negotiations

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As the pit comes within sight, Wrenne slows down. Herndel walks ahead of her and approaches the guard, another man than when she freed Linder. After a brief exchange, the guard accompanies the hallowman back to her. Herndel meets her eyes and nods, while the guard, squinting against the sun, studies her with what might be suspicion, curiosity or both. She shrugs him off and walks towards the pit.

The other times she came here - was it only yesterday? - she paid no attention to the surroundings, too busy first fretting at the realisation that they must have caught the wrong witch, then making and acting out new and hasty plans for amending that. Now she takes her time to study the place closely, dragging her feet a little over the last stretch.

The pit is dug out in a rocky, gentle slope rising towards the hilly woodland beyond. Her long shadow slowly advances before her, leaping up rocks and boulders and smoothly merging with the darkness lingering in the pits. It must have been hard work to dig in this soil, poor for crops, not useful for much else. A great pile of jumbled rocks to the side must be ones pried loose from the clenching ground in the making of the pit. They also help to prop up the crane for the great bear cage. The thought strikes her that she might have to figure out how to use that and hope it's not too heavy with Brun in the cage. Then she is at the edge of the pit and looks down.

The depth of it is unimpressive, no more than an ell on top of a fathom. If it weren't for the sturdy wooden grating pegged and locked to the ground with tough iron loops, and of course the guard, anyone inside could easily escape. Well, perhaps not very easily, Wrenne thinks as she notices that the walls lean slightly inwards. A faint scent of past uncleanliness rises out of it, like a long used but long disused privy.

She turns her attention to the unmoving forms at the bottom. The great one curled about the slight one. If they are aware of her presence, they make no sign. Arkteia's face is buried in Brun's furry neck, her arms wrapped around the bear's head, Brun's great forelegs around her body like a mother's arms around a huddled, disconsolate child. None of them is bound - Herndel told her in hushed tones, on their way to the pit, about how they simply kept Arkteia down in the pit with spears while lowering Brun down, net and all. After that, none dared get close enough to bind any of them.

A last glance over the shoulder tells Wrenne that Herndel and the guard are far enough not to hear her. She cannot make out their faces against the rising sun, but gives them a smile filled with all the confidence she cannot feel. Then she draws a deep breath and kneels at the edge of the pit.

"Arkteia!" she whispers. "Brun!" At first they do not harken to her quiet call. As she softly calls their names again, Brun's ears twitch and Arkteia raises her head, squinting against the morning sky. Wrenne gives them a little wave. "It's me, Wrenne! I am here!"

At those words, Arkteia springs to her feet while Brun rolls over and shakes herself while gaining her feet. "Wrenne!" Arkteia exclaims and Wrenne hastily hushes her.

"The hallowman and the guard are not far away. They mustn't know I know you! I've told them that the Herder has told me to talk to you and make you forswear your witchcraft."

"You what?" Arkteia frowns and shakes her head. "And they believed you?"

Wrenne shrugs. "At least they believe that I believe it. I guess they saw no harm in letting me try. But they're bound to be watching me in case you'd put a spell on me. I've told them I've got a horseshoe that I found at a crossroads at midnight to protect me, so I'm not afraid."

Arkteia snorts.

"You have a horseshoe?"

"From outside the tavern stable, yes. But..."

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