Hunting for courage

Chapter 2

Royce leaned against the cell's wall with his right hand full of snow behind the head, the coldness relieving the pain in the nape. In front of him, there were rusty metal bars, to his right was a small pile of straw as the bed, and to the left was a bucket. The cell was small, as the village's prison. Well, with barely four cells you can hardly call it a prison.

He was shivering from the cold, barely feeling his toes. The damned guards made him dress in this ragged clothes like some kind of criminal, like he murdered someone instead of attacking a lord's guards. Well, what he had done probably was way worse. In the best case scenario, he would freeze to death in a couple of days. In the worst case, well, his death would come much sooner.

Olber had visited him in the morning, but Royce hadn't spoken. Clayre, all he had left, his now gone. He tried to stop them, but what could he do against trained soldiers. He had heard of people who could fight with knights without armour or weapons. The God's knights, The Shars. But he was not one. That's heresy, thinking like that! Shari were descendants of the first king of mankind, chosen by the gods themselves, and he's just a peasant. A peasant of noble blood, but still a peasant.

Some noise made him lift his head. A guard was approaching and he was speaking with someone.

''Just like that?'' the guard said, ''Stealing three steaks and a bag of eggs?''

''Eh, what did you wanted me to do?'' said a female voice. ''I was hungry!''

Steps approached louder and louder, and Royce saw the guard holding the woman, her hands caught from behind. She was small in height, barely reaching the guard's shoulder. Red hair trickled on her red cheek and green eyes were fixed on the guard. Her black shirt was stained with something that smelled strongly of ale. She seemed drunk.

''You want to keep me here?! Listen! When I get out I will break that sharp nose of yours!''

''Yeah, yeah, whatever.''

The guard opened the door and threw her into the cell. She tried to get up but fell back on the floor. The smell of ale had filled Royce's nostrils. How much has she drank? The guard closed the door and left.

''Yes, run!'' said the woman.''But I'll still get you!''

She managed to rise on her knees and turned her gaze to Royce. Her face became more serious and her green eyes stared at him intensely, making Royce feel awkward.

''... What's the matter?'' he said.

''Oh, I thought you were dead.''

''I'm still breathing!''

''I've seen enough dead people that were still able to breathe.''

She's crazy!

''So, ''she said,'' why are you here? Did the innkeeper catch you while you were drinking his ale too? I don't know why they made such a fuss for that dim water. I wouldn't even give that poison to my enemies, not to mention customers. So why are you here?''

Royce had not responded. What could he say? That he was so weak that his daughter was taken? That he was crazy enough to provoke a dozen soldiers?

''We are pretty silent, eh. No matter, anyway it probably would have bored me. Speaking of boredom, this place is repulsive.''

Having said this, she breathed deeply and broke the ropes that bounded her hands. Royce stared dumbfounded, not believing what he had seen. She managed to break a thick rope as if it was old and damaged.

Something is weird about her.

The woman stood up, grinning widely. Her cheeks were no longer red and her face seemed more concentrated.