School boy | Prince Caspian

13

Otto woke to a pounding in his head. It felt like something was trying to chisel it's way out of his skull. He was barely blinking his eyes open before he was rolling over and vomiting on the floor. There wasn't much in his stomach, for which he was grateful. What had been there now painted to cold stone floor. Otto groaned and and pushed himself up, half aware that he was in a bed of some sort. The mattress crinkled under him as he shifted, the blankets falling away as he rose. He squinted around at the room.

The room wasn't very big. A square of bricked stone. The floor and walls all the same in monochrome grey. Dark shadows loomed in the corners, the only light coming from the flaming torches attached to the walls in the corridor outside. The door of the room itself was a lattice of metal. A prison door. Otto blinked and peered down at his bed. It was more of a cot than a bed. A thin frame made of wood with a meagre excuse for a mattress made of straw on top. There was no pillow and only two threadbare blankets. Otto raised a hand to his still pounding head and something metallic clinked. His wrists were trapped in cuffs chained to the wall behind him.

Otto groaned again and leaned back against the stone as his vision swam. He threw up again on the floor. Stomach empty so he was only spitting bile. There was a small bowl of water next to his cot and he washed out his mouth a few times before greedily drinking the rest. He was parched and his body ached like he had been hit by a car. Outside, he could hear the clattering of footsteps as guards moved around.

"He's awake. Someone go and get Lord Miraz". The slamming of a door.

Otto crossed his legs, the water having dulled his headache enough for him to ignore it. He raised his hands to his face and found that bandages were wrapped around his forehead. They must have hit him harder than they aimed to. His cheek had also been tended to. The deep cut was covered in a weird concoction that smelt of herbs and honey. All his other scratches and bruises from the battle were wrapped and he was wearing different clothing. The green tunic Edmund had gave him gone. In it's place was a over large white shirt with laces at the neck and a pair of black trousers. He was barefoot. Otto picked at it, not happy at the fact that someone had changed him while he was unconscious.

A door slammed and footsteps echoed off of the stone walls as they approached his cell. Otto brought his knees up to his chest as a group of people appeared at his door. Two men stood at the front, peering at him through the gaps in the bars. Behind them stood about three soldiers. The man wearing the most amount of finery was in his late middle age, with a small black beard. His eyes reminded Otto of Caspian, although their blackness was cold and dark, holding none of Caspian's wonder and warmth. Miraz looked at Otto like he was a rather amusing chalk drawing on the wall, ready to be wiped away at any given notice. At his side stood what must be the captain of the guard. A man with dark curly hair.

"What's your name boy?" Miraz asked, tone a fake attempt of politeness.

"Otto Birch", Otto replied with a scowl.

"Otto. Interesting name", Miraz smiled. It was a predatory thing. All sharpness. "Now you are not from around here are you Otto? It's rare to see hair as light as yours here. The only other person who I have seen with golden hair, brighter than yours really, was the boy king who tried to kill me last night along with my traitorous nephew". Miraz stroked his beard, face hardening with anger at the mention of Caspian. "You are obviously not one of the old kings and queens, but you are not from here either. You have obviously come with them. So I ask this Otto Birch. Where did these kings and Queens come from and what is their plan?"

Otto didn't let his facial expression change. He responded to the growled question by raising his chin and staring Miraz evenly in the eyes. "As if I would tell you anything. You are not my king", Otto hissed, words filled with venom. This was the man who had killed hundreds of Narnians. Who had tried to murder his own nephew. Otto wasn't telling him anything.

Miraz smiled at him like he had just seen a small dog do a trick. It was patronising and petty. "Very well. I was planning to treat you like a guest but if you plan to be rude to your host, then I can show you how unpleasant your stay could be". He waved a hand and the Captain produced a ring of iron keys. He unlocked the door to the cell bustled inside with the three guards. They stormed at him before Otto could fully react. Two grabbing each arm and one holding his feet as the captain unlocked his chains and switched his cuffs for a pair that were chained together. Otto kicked and struggled as best as he could but the men were much broader and stronger than him. They barely moved.

"Be compliant", the captain whispered frustratedly as the handcuff snapped closed on Otto's wrists. "Do not give him a reason to make this worse".

"Fuck you!" Otto snarled back. A guard drove a fist into his ribs and he jerked in pain. Miraz watched the whole scene from the door with a bored expression. Eventually, cuffs now locked on and arms chained together in front of him, Otto was forced to stand up. Two guards gripped his upper arms and shoulders and marched him to the door. He was sure that there would be hand shaped bruises on him soon.

"Was all that really necessary?" Miraz sighed. Like Otto was a toddler throwing a tantrum. Otto spat at him. The flow of spit landing on Miraz's embroidered deep red tunic. The man looked at it then back handed Otto across the face. He was wearing a few rings of heavy silver. They caught on Otto's face, cutting the inside of his previously uninsured cheek. He was pretty sure that they had also cut his eyebrow. Otto wriggled his stinging jaw and grinned bloodily at him. Both sides of his face now bruised and bloody.

"Caspian may be a emotional, ignorant, spoiled child",  Miraz commented as he shook his wrist. Otto was glad that the blow had hurt him as well. "But he really know how to make friends with the wild ones".

"Wild?" Otto smirked. "I am a gentleman of London dear sir. If you want wild. I am happy to direct you to a few friends. I know a few minotaurs who will be happy to teach you the meaning of the word".

Miraz smiled like he knew a private joke. It was a vicious expression that had Otto faltering, sudden nerves rising in his gut. "I am sure you do. It's a pity they will all soon be slaughtered. Captain, alert the men. We will be moving out in the morning. The bridge is finished so we attack".

"Yes my Lord", The Captain bowed. "What should we do with the boy sir?"

Miraz glared at Otto. He waved a hand and began stalking down the corridor. Heeled boots clacking with a audible echo. "Bring him with us. But make sure he won't be a nuisance".

Otto swallowed, tasting blood. He felt his fear pick up as the soldiers holding him began to walk down the corridor. They kicked his feet out from under him, so he was forced to be dragged behind them like a sack. He didn't like the grim face of the Captain, who followed behind them. The man's face was fully of distaste and when he met Otto's eye, pity.

Otto didn't think he would like what came next.

Unedited