Rage and Rebellion (Histories of Havenhearth)

6.2 Andri

Andri watched his friend get led away, through the doorway at the side of the courtyard, and off to spirits know where. The remaining seven of them were then sent back down into the dungeon, where they all sat in silence and darkness in the musty dampness for some moments.
Brownwarren spoke first, "Where did she go? Off to a palace chamber? While we lot remain stuck down here?"
Another captive, by the name of Lancel Longstream said, "Enough, combattant."
"Don't you see?" Brownwarren had no intention to stop, "we'll never escape now. They've gotten us good."
"We'll be rescued no doubt,"
"Oh nonsense. We can't escape without Snowberry, and she won't escape without us. It's a move as old as the Herb Hills themselves. Divide and conquer." She spat. "We're doomed. No way the commander is gonna send any rescue party out for us, even for her own daughter. And especially for her own daughter. In fact, we are probably even less likely to get rescued 'cause of her."
"You're right," Andri finally spoke.
"I am?" Brownwarren was surprised to have a supporter.
"You're absolutely right. We're better off without her." Brownwarren wasn't wrong about the divide and conquer tactic, in fact Andri even remembered studying that during his training. Was she also right about the likelihood of rescue? Probably not, but the priority now was morale. Especially given that the scurry of rats could be heard. "let's just hope word gets back to her about what's happened here. But don't you worry, we are going to get out of here." He hoped his speaking had prevented others from hearing the rats.
"I'm in charge now," he said forcibly, "Does anyone contest?" No response. Andri stood up, as if to solidify his self-declared higher position, "ok good," but of course there was nowhere for him to go, so he sat right back down next to Brownwarren. At least he was closest to the trouble. What would the commandaire do in this situation? What would Gwinael do? She always seemed to have natural instincts for protectorate. Keep everyone busy: thinking in silence was bad, you could definitely hear the rats now, and thoughts were too easy to run away. He had to keep them all occupied. Mentally. Everyone down here was inexperienced, nobody really knew what the best thing to do was. Singing? Story-telling? Both. "Ok listen guys, I wanna hear all about your childhoods. Where you grew up, what you did, that sort of thing. And how you ended up in the land protectorate. We'll all have a go. Who first?"
At times, the stories became so funny that laughter rang out through the slits in the wooden boards which made up the trap door to the dungeon. They were fine, at least for now, if only they could soon get something to eat and drink. But it wasn't too long until the dungeon door was hoisted open, and Andri could see two silhouettes standing at each side of the exit. This must be food and drink delivery. "You must come," one called down to them. They drew swords, as the captives stiffly, slowly got to their feet and trudged up the stairs. Led by Andri, they stumbled up into twilight, blinking, even though the daylight was dim. It was not a summoning for a banquet, that much was clear. Brownwarren, as soon as she came up and assumed her spot in the line, gave a salute, her fingers shaking as she held them at her forehead, as if waiting for orders to be given. One of the robed Cassioni figures gave a command, and a knife was placed against her back. She lowered her arm to her side. Someone grunted another command, and a key was handed over to one of the guards, who took it and marched over to the wall with the iron plate in front of it, placing it into a hole. Andri had noticed the iron plate on the way in, and had wondered what it was. I guess we are going to find out right now.
She added a bar to the hole in the key and began cranking it round and round, and as she did, the plate began to slide to the side, revealing a long space between where the plate had been, and the stone wall. The guard turning the bar, stopped and grunted something.
"You will all stand in front of the wall there." Brownwarren, Longstream, Sandshield, and the rest did not move, but Andri was certain he knew what was coming. "Quickly, in to the gap."
"This is savage! You cannot do this," Andri said, determined to stand up for them. "You already call us savage!" one of them said.
"And yet you do not seem concerned with showing us otherwise," Andri retorted. "We need food and water. You cannot do this."
A Cassioni command, and knives were pressed up against their backs. The combattants filed into the space. There was total silence for a moment, and then the woman began turning the bar around. The metal plate slid back over them, one by one, and then settled with a bump, leaving them in total darkness. The sounds from outside the box were muffled, and someone began sniffling from inside. There was only an inch or two in front of each body, they could scarcely move a hand or foot. "Looks like we're gonna be spending the night here, combattants, better get comfortable," Andri said, trying to make his voice sound as relaxed and casual as possible. He later tried to talk some more, check in with everyone in order to keep up morale, but the only response he ever got was from Brownwarren, who half-heartedly resumed an angry rant. The others just ignored him, so he had stopped, feeling weak and useless and dispirited. Despite it being summer, it grew cold, fortunately not too cold, but it was uncomfortable, to say the least. Some of the bodies shuffled around so they were slouching onto the walls and each other, trying to relax, stay calm, keep each other warm. The air became staler and the smell of dirty bodies and urine, increased, but at some point nonetheless, each one of the captives dozed off, their legs swollen up with having to keep weight on them the whole time and unable to move. At some point in the early morning however, rain began to fall, and began to drop into the box on their heads, trickling down their backs, through the gap where the iron box met the wall. A blessing in disguise really since it had been ages since they had had anything to drink, so some managed to tip their head slightly and get a few drops into their dry mouths. They were tired, smelly, starving, thirsty, uncomfortable, cold, and soggy. But they survived, and all were jolted awake when the bar was placed back into the keyhole and cranked slowly. Inch by inch the metal plate released them one after the other, dumping them onto the ground of the courtyard. Although the day was overcast, and even raining, they blinked in the daylight, stretching their backs, neck, legs and arms. Andri stepped out into rain drops, and noticed Gwinael, apparently she had been brought down to observe the opening of the box. He gave her a little nod.
"You see, Snowberry, if you refuse to do as I ask, or, if your mother refuses to cooperate, then after breaking fast, your friends here, will return to the box. Do you still require further clarification on the situation?" All Brownwarren heard was breaking the fast, at least that's what Andri figured since she said loudly, "yes let's eat!"
Gwinael shook her head slowly, Still concerned about the implications of her accepting this was- she was not concerned about the meeting itself. "Then, my second in command will escort you to meet your mother shortly. You see, I took the liberty of contacting your mother in advance, and she has agreed to a meeting with you, as my representative."  She lifted a hand as Gwinael started to speak,"please do allow me to finish. Yes, it is as my representative, and to do so, a little extra motivation for you," she nodded back to the box. "Indeed you are lucky it rains today, because it can become hot inside, rather hot indeed. Today it will just be wet."
Gwinael did not mind going into the box, her colleagues had done so, she was sure she could too. "I will go into the box," she announced. The woman laughed. "Ah no. No no no not you Snowberry - them." Gwinael should have known, and she knew she could never bear to have them suffer on her account. "If you put them back in there, then I will not go willingly,"
"Well, i think you might rethink your position, because they will go in whatever you do. And they will stay there until you come back and we have obtained an agreeable response." Her eyes widened, and everyone looked at her. Andri tried to communicate that it was fine, that they could handle more time in there. But he did not understand much of what they were discussing. There was a slight movement of her jaw, as if she was setting it firmly. Her eyes were panicked, and Andri tried to show her he was not afraid, he was strong, and that she was strong too. There was silence, except for the rain, pattering down and splashing off of the stone walls.
A sudden movement among the Tainish ranks broke the stillness. Andri shouted. Brownwarren had lunged forwards, towards the leader woman. Gwinael shouted too, but it was too late. Swords were drawn and Brownwarren's neck sliced before the echo of the shout off the walls faded. She hit the ground convulsing, blood streaming out of her neck, mixing with the rain. At the same time, guards with swords surrounded Gwinael. The others stood frozen, in shock and fear. These were largely inexperienced combattants.
Andri spoke, staring into Gwinael's eyes.
"We'll do as the rebel leaders says, Gwinael." The guard near Andri raised her sword in preparation to strike, but the head rebel waved it off, "All of us. I know you'll get the agreeable response," he quoted what he heard before, not knowing what else to say,  gave her a nod and then a Tainish salute. The others followed suit.
"I will come to you in one hour for your final decision" The captives may eat, drink and relieve themselves in the meantime." This time, Gwinael watched as the six of them were filed away, back down into the dungeon. She had to do something. But what? She couldn't just let them go back to their prison.
"Wait!" She called out, nearly quaking from fear.
"You have killed one of your prisoners," her voice came out with confidence, unwavering. Thank the spirits for that.
"I regret the death, but it is not my wish that you are here. You must think yourselves lucky to be alive, no? After all, Gwinael Snowberry, this is war."
"She requires a burial, a decent one."
The leader looked down at Gwinael, studied her cynically.
"Do your forces also give Cassioni casualties decent burials?" Gwinael's confidence left her immediately, and she flushed. "Our ways differ and we do not know what looks a decent burial for Cassioni,"
"Perhaps not, but instead you leave them to the animals and the elements. It is only the former that are perhaps happy to have you here." She said, philosophically, looking grave as she regarded her young captive for a few moments. "Do not think I have no respect for the dead, even non-Cassioni dead. I respect combattants, on both sides. You may have your burial. You will be informed as to when."