The Memory of Darkness (on hold until October)

24 - The Servants

She cursed as the dull ache in her belly grew worse, knowing that she couldn't ignore the problem for much longer. A linen bath sheet cut into strips would be suitable, but there was nothing in her room that she could use to cut it. It appeared that Lorcan had removed any sharp blades, probably to prevent her using them on him or herself.

"Bastard," she hissed, knowing that he would have many useful implements, but she would be damned if she was going to ask to borrow one. There had to be somewhere else... "The kitchen," she declared in triumph, before realising with some dismay that she was talking to herself again.

Visiting the kitchen was problematic for numerous reasons. First, she had never been there, and wasn't certain where it was. Second, someone there had prepared her food. Would running into them be a good thing for either party? Third, there was every chance that Lorcan would appear at some point. Arianna had seen him briefly since their encounter the previous night, and the way her heart raced at the memory of him kissing her suggested that seeing him again would be bad for her sanity.

Whatever the risks, she had to do something. In her experience, castle kitchens were usually close to the great hall, so it seemed like a good place to try. She found the hall easily enough, the beams of the roof hung with pennants bearing crests that were mostly unfamiliar. A doorway led her to her intended destination. The room appeared to be deserted, although a large fireplace was ablaze at the far end of the room, the only light source, suggesting the presence of others.

To her relief, a rack of knives stood on a bench a short distance away. Hopefully, one of them would be sharp enough for her needs. Arianna chose a blade at random, and turned to leave, but something caught her eye. An elevated wooden walkway ran along one length of the room. One end led to a staircase to allow access to the kitchen. The other led to a door that opened out into Gods know where. Hanging from the gallery was a large object, possibly an animal carcass of some kind, though it was a strange place to keep it.

With horror, she realised it was a woman, with what looked like a bedsheet used as a makeshift noose around her neck, the other end tied to the banister of the walkway. Arianna couldn't see the woman's face, but she'd seen the faces of enough hanging victims to be glad of that. A surge of remorse flowed through her. There had been someone else here the whole time, and she had been too afraid to even look for a potential ally, and now the poor wretch was suspended like a gruesome puppet. Had Lorcan done this? Had he wanted to watch her choking and convulsing, the life slowly draining from her? Had she done it to herself?

Arianna stifled a cry of shock as the door at the top of the walkway flew open. She ducked behind a workbench, certain that she wouldn't reach the other exit without being seen.

"I didn't do anything! What could I have done to her?"

Arianna didn't recognise the voice and didn't dare look over the bench to see who it belonged to. She heard quick, heavy footsteps descend the staircase, before Lorcan spoke. "It's too late for her. Can you manage the knot?"

Hoping that Lorcan and his unknown companion were distracted, Arianna dashed, still half crouching, towards the door. She didn't stop running until she had reached her room, where she stood, clutching the knife, her body trembling.

As her breathing began to slow, Arianna sat down on her bed, unable to shake the image of the hanging woman from her mind. She didn't know how much time had passed before there was a knock at her door.

"Go away!" she yelled, certain that she would be ignored. In a panic, she grabbed a linen sheet from the laundry pile and began to cut into it with the knife. It came as no surprise when the door opened, and Lorcan entered the room. Arianna ignored him, keeping her eyes on her work.