For I Am Convinced

Chapter 5

"Laval?" Lion-O flawlessly sprang over the windowsill of his brother's bedroom like he had done so many times before. "Are you-" he gasped in shock.

Laval lay on the floor of his room face down. The moonlight cast her pale silver fingers upon the angry red hunk of flesh that had been Laval's back. Fifteen feet away lay several ruined canvases.

"Laval!" Lion-O hissed and raced over.

When he heard that Laval had returned, he was delighted and meant to ask his brother everything about what happened. Then Helena had mentioned something about a whip. Coupled with Laval's absence at dinner and Lion-O had pieced together the story.

Thankful that Helena had warned him about the whip, Lion-O carefully wrung out a wet cloth and pressed it against Laval's spine. He whimpered in pain, spine arching a little.

"Shh, Laval. It's just me," Lion-O whispered as he wiped at the lashes. "I know it burns, but you have to be quiet and lie still." He winced as he pulled the cloth away, already stained pink. "Did he whip you?"

"Give him thirty," Laval murmured from either pain or delurium.

"Yeesh." Lion-O shuddered. "All this for the escape?"

"Yes," Laval answered.

Lion-O finished bandaging him up and pulled Laval onto the bed, gently wrapping an arm around him. "Tell me about your adventure. What did you see or do?"

"I went to a race," Laval faintly smiled. And he told his brother the rest.

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Leonitarus refused to let Laval leave his room for days, guards posted at every conceivable escape route. This, of course, included the kitchen area as well, since the theory was that he had gotten out through the basement.

For Laval, this was quite a loss that hurt more than the whippings did. To make matters worse, Leonitarus had destroyed Laval's artwork and supplies, so he couldn't even distract himself with that.

Laval sighed and sat down on his bed. He felt so miserable. Although the angry scars on his back were fading, Laval still felt the sting.

It wasn't as if Lion-O or any of his friends could visit him. Leonitarus favored isolation as his punishment. Often after a beating, Leonitarus would post guards outside every door to insure that Laval could not and would not be able to escape back to that beautiful land and the race. To see the other tribes. To take in everything he knew and experienced again. To be a part of that world.

'When's it my turn? Wouldn't I love to explore that world out above?'

Today, he was sitting in his room and staring longingly out the windows. Leonitarus was gone again today — Laval had seen him drive away. Ordinarily, that meant Laval could quickly do his chores and hurry off to paint or to hang out. Not today, it seemed. Nope. Another dull day of isolation. Nothing for him to do but sit there and possibly sing, but Laval refused to sing in these circumstances.

Suddenly, the doors blew open. Helena darted in. "Laval!"

Laval sprang up, eyes wide in surprise. "Helena, what are you-"

"No time." She grabbed his hand and dragged him downstairs. Laval followed, keeping pace with her as the manor rushed by in a blur of familiar colors and scents (he could've sworn he'd seen unconscious hyenas -- what did she do to them?). Soon, he was back in the secret room again.

Lion-O and Scomper stood waiting with some items in hand. Lion-O held a brown leather satchel in one hand and a dagger sheath with the other. Scomper held out the dagger that Laval had found and a gray cloak.