It was late afternoon on a spring day. Our scene is set at Castle Alb, a portly mound of whitewashed stone placed on the top of a hill. Within its shadow slithered the river Newic, a thin length of water only useful as a marker between it and the neighbouring county. A day’s journey away, the noble King Richard Sebastian VII celebrated his 91st birthday. Here, however, a thief is being thrown into an oubliette; a fancy sounding name for a hole in the ground where undesirables are left to rot and be forgotten.
Daisy rubbed her backside, easing the strain from her unceremonious landing. She wiped the grime off her trousers as she stood on wobbly legs. She sighed – then she gagged. The smell of rot burned her nose as the flavour of oily grime wriggled along her tongue. The miasma of the forgotten, fermented dead violated her soul and irreversibly soiled her favourite pair of trousers. The soup of death and waste-water lay a third way up her shins.
The first thing Daisy swore to herself was to burn them as soon as she escaped.
The second was a reminder to not look down, fearful that she should see something she would never be able to forget.
Thus, she turned to the walls. Four faces of black brick, icy to the touch and glass-like from the moisture. At the top, they curved upwards, melding into a dome. Capping the ceiling sat the hole she was dumped into. A chimney that stretched up and up until it ended with a rusted iron grate. Blue sky shone through, illuminating the pit with a pale haze that highlighted every surface. In front of Daisy, a flat slab of steel filled a rectangular hole, a rusty featureless door. No locks to pick, nor exposed hinges with which she could lever the door off.
Not that she had picks or a crowbar anyway, everything but her clothes were stripped from her before her imprisonment. It didn’t matter, the door was a red herring, the passage on the other side would have just wormed through the underbelly of the fortress. If there wasn’t a guard stationed outside, she reckoned it would be less than a minute before she bumped into one. Instead, Daisy knew that the correct way would be to go back up the way she had come.
The shaft was going to be tricky with how slick the bricks were, but once she had lodged herself in place she could easily keep pressure with her back, hands, and feet and shuffle her way upwards. The grate at the end was not locked in place, a guard just picked it up before unceremoniously throwing her down. They would not expect someone to be mad enough to try climbing back up, all the others had surely broken a limb upon landing. Sliding it away and dragging herself out would be the easy part. Then would come the issue of being in a courtyard filled with guards. Luckily for her, when she was being dragged along, Daisy had noted that there was only a waist high wall separating anyone walking along it from the cliff overlooking the river. Daisy’s tumbling skills saved her legs on the way down into the pit, but she reckoned that an arm would need to be sacrificed to ensure she made it down with her life intact. After that, it would have been a quick jog down to the river, the shock, and confusion affecting the guards would make it easier for her to play up a limp too.
It will be important to make the next part of the deception more believable. She would then stumble, fall into the Newic and let the currents whisk her away. From her point of view, she would be skimming under the surface, holding her breath for dear life till she would get far enough to sneak some air without being noticed. From the guard’s point of view, however, they would be witness to an unbelievable escape attempt, followed by the young girl throwing herself off a cliff and promptly drowning in the river. She smiled, her plan was utterly, completely perfect.
Her smile faded.
A realisation struck her hard.
The roof was too high for her to reach the bottom of the tube.
Sure, Daisy could leap higher than her short stature would suggest. But the task above her was beyond anything she could manage without a stepping stool. Daisy turned to the iron door once more. All the other prisoners that were trapped here must have spent their energy trying to pry it open. Success was impossible, but perhaps in the desperate process a few stones were loosened. She took one confident step forward.
There was a crunch.
There was something hidden in the muck, and she had stepped on it. Reflexively and regrettably, Daisy looked down. Then she stumbled backwards, falling into the water. A man, or what used to be one, a scattering of yellowed bones with a few bits of tissue still clinging to the joints. The noise had come from her shoe snapping a forearm like a rotten twig. Her heart pounded, desperate to rip itself from her chest. All her plans and fantasies vanished. Daisy found herself trapped, unable to rip her eyes from the outline that rested just beneath the surface.
“Oh, I see you found Toby.”
There was nobody there. And then she looked down again.
A long shape that hugged the edge of the floor began to uncoil and stand upright. Grime clung in mats to the thing’s red fur. The hole was filled with a sucking wheeze as a stumpy pair of front paws grasped onto the brickwork and pulled the beast upwards, unfurling the coils of its serpentine body with a stretch. A head that resembled a fox skin pulled tight over a lizard’s skull turned around to look down at her. Slitted yellow eyes looked down at Daisy. The half-dead drake flicked a forked tongue. Out from its mouth rolled the voice of a man, more appropriate for a church usher than a giant furred serpent.
“Hello there, new friend.” Bernard coughed; he tried his best to be soft-spoken, but his throat was roughened by his time spent in the pit. The wyrm managed his best smile, lips curled, and teeth exposed, as per human custom. His attempted friendly greeting fell upon deaf ears as Daisy’s panicked screams drowned him out. Bernard sighed. He did his best to be optimistic, even if every new companion repeated the same terrified song and dance. Much to his chagrin, the small mousey girl wallowing in the mud was keen on repeating the pattern.
He waited.
He kept waiting.
He continued to wait.
The others had exhausted themselves from screaming after the first few minutes. She had been doing it for fifteen. The girl thrashed back and forth in the filth, both covering herself, and splattering the walls with the foul slurry. He perched over her, observing from a respectable distance, waiting for an opportunity between the screams to begin his introduction.
“Oh, sweet mercy,” Daisy wailed. “This can’t be happening!”
“Welcome to –”
“I don’t want to die here; I am not going to die here!”
Bernard cleared his throat, trying to get the girl’s attention, “I said welcome –”
“I need to get out, how am I going to get out? There is no way out!”
“– To your new home.”
“Somebody, please help me. I don’t want to get eaten by this horrible thing!”
“Okay, now that is just uncalled-for!” Bernard’s voice rang clear like offended thunder. Daisy stood stunned, baffled by the response and the fact that the giant hairy snake in front of her had not pounced on her during that entire pathetic display.
“As I was saying. Welcome to your new home, friend.” he bowed. “My name is Bernard, and I will be serving as your host during your hopefully pleasant stay. I apologize for its current state. Due to its punitive nature, regular cleaning of the oubliette is of a low priority among castle staff. I do need to warn you, we’re currently dealing with a nasty batch of mould, probably what caused the cough that took out poor Toby.”
Daisy stuttered as she found her words, “W-why are you doing this? If you are trying to get my guard down, it won’t work.”
“Work?” there was a pause, then he gasped. “Oh dear, you are still under the impression that I am trying to eat you. Not to worry, I have completely sworn off animals, minerals, and vegetables. In all of their forms.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You'll starve if you don't eat anything, you're basically saying you want to die.”
“Correct!” he proudly boasted.
Daisy turned away, gathering her bearings once more. Ensuring that she wasn’t dreaming.
Unfortunately, the situation was too ridiculous and the smell too foul for her to make up.
“Why?”
Bernard answered with a sigh, “You are not the only one imprisoned here. For failure in my previous duty, I was sent here to ensure there are no escapees and that all prisoners would be put to rest. The only meals provided to me are those sentenced to the oubliette. I can't remember how long I've been here nor when I'll leave. I've been trapped in a dark, wet brick pit filled with waste and putrefied corpse liquid. There is no sense in continuing this torment. Eating you will do nothing but steal my progress.”
Slowly rising to her feet, Daisy tip toed around the creature. “That sounds like a horrible fate, mister” – she paused, her eyes rolled back as she tried to remember the monster's name – “mister –”
“My name is Bernard.”
“Lovely to meet you Bernard, it is very, very lovely indeed. But me being in here is a mistake that I am going to rectify. So, I wish you luck on your starvation adventure, and I am just going to see if any of the stones near the door are loose –”
With a flash of red, he pinned himself between her and the door. Her hands grasped onto the wall to keep her slipping again.
“I can’t let you escape.”
“Why?” she demanded.
“I may not wish to live, but as long as I draw breath, my duty is to ensure no one escapes their punishment.”
“And what is that meant to leave for me, then?” her voice was shrill. “You expect me to starve in here with you? Wait till I drop-dead and rot in this disgusting pit?”
“As I said, my duty is –”
Daisy snapped, “Your duty is to have me starve to death with you because you decided to adopt the stupidest version of pacifism I’ve heard of.”
Bernard, coiled in front of the featureless door, lowered his head in his best attempt of a shrug. “Everyone else either broke a limb or got a really nasty open wound on the way down. They all expired without the need of starvation.”
“Well, sorry for knowing how to stick a landing.” If her eyes could roll any harder, they would pop out of the sockets. “It truly would've been lovely if it went your way. Me face down, legs twisted like broken twigs. Sobbing into the filth as Bernard the fur snake recites his pet philosophical theories.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
A hot and itchy sensation came over Bernard, like ash crawling under his skin. He could not let this insult slide; he could respect nonsense from his other ‘house guests’ but this slant against his education and heritage would not stand. His opinions were formed via strict research during his original role within the castle. And he surely wasn’t whatever in god’s name a fur snake is. He collected his thoughts, honing his argument into a fine edge that would metaphorically lay her low. But in his frustration, his focus slipped. As soon as he opened his mouth, two words shot out with the grace of a brick through a window.
“Scribe wyrm!”
“Pardon?” Daisy saw Bernard go quiet; his eye sharpened as he stared her down. Before blurting out the two words with a goose-like honk.
“I’m a scribe wyrm. And those ideas are not my own, I got them via careful research while employed within the castle library.”
From what Daisy could remember, the wyrms were said to be the bastard offspring of the dragons found in ancient myth. Smart, powerful, and cursed with unbearably large egos. She raised an eyebrow at the idea that he was employed. Lords flaunting their wealth and power by owning exotic beasts was an unspoken requirement that came with the profession. Two headed birds, rabbits that spat fire. Daisy even remembered catching a view of a Count’s ‘pet’ during a parade; a ball of black flesh with at least a dozen human arms that it used as legs, dragged along by its master via a leash of golden thread. The idea of such a creature that is intelligent working within a court was only the subject of rumour, ramblings that one public official or another is being controlled by gnomes spouted by a drunk or the local crazed hermit.
“They hunted down and tamed a dangerous creature, to organise their library?”
“If you had only seen the state of it before they were able to gain my services, you would understand why they would need someone of my –”
“But what did you really do?”
“Pardon?”
“Nobody is seeking out a wyrm just to sort their bookshelves,” Daisy said, “what did you really do here?”
Bernard’s head lowered as he coiled into a ball, his eyes shifting from side to side, refusing to make contact with Daisy. “Well, along with my usual duties, they also found use of me during the interrogation of certain individuals.”
“They brought you in to scare the truth out of them?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, they kept me in a side room during the process. I can taste when someone tries to lie.”
She gasped with excitement, “Now that sounds properly useful.” she paused for a moment, “so why are they letting that kind of talent go to waste down here?”
The fur down his length stood up on end, a low agitated groan filled the chamber. The sudden sign of aggression almost made Daisy lose her footing.
The wyrm took a deep breath as he regained his composure. He couldn’t tell if she meant that question to be as pointed as it came out as. The memory made his gut churn. But without a nasty wound, she was going to be here with him for a very long time. He can’t avoid the question and wait for her to drop dead like the others. Best to get it out of the way to avoid the guaranteed pestering if he didn’t.
“There was a boy. Half the size of you, with dirty blond hair. I can’t remember if his eyes were blue or brown, but they just stared through me with these big orbs of colour. His parents were being tried for adding a man who tried to assassinate the count. They did not catch him, but they caught the couple blocking the door he fled through. Guards wanted to know how much they knew, but they were being difficult, everything they said was vague. Nothing that I could tell was a blatant lie. So, the guards brought in their son, and he let a lot slip. I knew that he understood what his parents were doing. During a break, I asked what the fate of the boy would be once his parents were dealt with, the man leading the interview said that regardless, the boy would live. That was a lie. I pressed him on it, he said that as a collaborator with traitors he would be marked as a traitor.” He swallowed before continuing on. “They were going to hang the boy along with his parents if they were found guilty.”
“Bloody hell,” Daisy spat.
“The only evidence they had to make a firm guilty verdict was what I was able to get from the questioning. Many people believe my kind are unable to lie due to our ability. We can, but it's something I personally find repulsive. So, I twisted the truth a little. The boy did know what his parents were doing, but I implied that he didn’t understand the seriousness of their statements. The venting of frustrations by a couple upset with one policy or another. They would still be doomed to rot in a dungeon until a confession could be forced from them, but the boy would be spared. Passed along to a faraway orphanage where the men here wouldn’t be able to hurt him. Thank the almighty that it worked.”
“Then how did you end up down here?”
“After a few days, after the boy was far away and the brutalizing of his parents began, it all began to weigh on me. I lied, and horrible things were happening to that man and woman because of me. I don’t know what they did to them before they hanged them, but the screams kept me awake at night. During breakfast one day I broke down, told them that I nitpicked the truth from the interrogation and withheld information, so the boy could go free. There was no way they could've found the boy again, so they wanted to make an example out of me. Have me deal the final punishment to all those thrown down here.”
The oubliette echoed with the gentle dripping of the stonework.
Daisy and Bernard held their breath for a long time. Neither knew what to say.
Bernard had poured out his soul, it was the first time he had been able to articulate what was biting at the back of his brain. The guilt from lying had buried him emotionally, and then physically. He was a proud beast, unable to make mistakes, and left wondering where it had all went wrong. Wanting to starve rather than live to think of it a moment longer.
Daisy was left wide-eyed, boggling at her host. Reeling as she tried to make sense of it, Daisy realised that she was sorry for Bernard. He hadn’t had a choice in the matter; with all the times she had dealt with the law, she knew that for a fact. The guards had wanted to make an example of that man and woman. Bernard had only been there so that they could twist whatever he said into an excuse. It was the guards that brought the child into it, not him.
“Bernard.”
In the silence, Bernard had forgotten that Daisy was still in front of him. Even with her voice just barely above a whisper, he flinched.
“It wasn’t your fault –”
“Of course not,” he flicked his head to the side, quickly agreeing with her in order to dismiss the statement.
“No, I mean it. You didn’t have a –”
“No!” he hissed. Reeling onto his back legs, his skeletal frame rose up, looming above her. “You don’t have the right to say that. After the way you’ve acted and the terrible things you’ve said, you have no right to say that to me!”
Daisy slumped down into the waste-water; primordial fear weakened her legs. “I’m sorry. I really am, but I’m trying to say you were put into –”
“Oh, enough out of you!” the exasperated wyrm moved from the door, pacing around the hole in a loop. Daisy dove into the centre, narrowly avoiding his path.
“Cry like a lamb at the sight of me, calling me stupid names and now trying to comfort me. I see it now.” he rambled. “You said I was trying to lure you into a false sense of security, but it's really you that's trying to do it to me!” he stopped his race around the pit. Rows upon rows of hooked teeth sat just an inch away from Daisy’s neck. “Make me think you are pathetic and confused before trying to get on my good side. Leaving me vulnerable to your attack. With me out of the way, you would have all the time in the world to plot an escape.” every syllable dribbled from his mouth with malice. “All you needed to do was wait till you could find the right shaped rock –”
Bernard yelped, racing back to his coiled position in front of the iron door. His front paws rubbing his head, trying to ease the pain from the slowly growing welt. All the vile bravado and righteous fury of a dragon vanished in an instant.
Daisy rubbed her knuckles; she hadn’t expected his skull to be as hard as it was thick. “For the love of all that is good, would you listen?”
The meek fox head with watering reptilian eyes nodded.
“I want to escape,” said Daisy. “I don’t want to die here. But I don’t want to kill you to do it. You were dealt a terrible choice where no matter what, that man and woman were going to die horribly. Someone tried to assassinate the count and the guards couldn’t catch the guy, they needed to send a message to all those who might've had similar ideas. What made it worse was that they wanted to use the child, to make it even more graphic.”
“So, what do you mean?” asked Bernard. “That no matter what, I was doomed to make a bad choice?”
“No. I am saying that had you made the best choice you could've.”
“What do you mean?”
“The boy wasn’t tortured and hung along with his parents. He is safe because of you.”
“I know” – he whimpered – “but why do I still feel guilty?”
“How long have you been employed in this castle?” questioned Daisy.
There was a pause, “For as long as I can remember”
Daisy was shocked, “Don’t tell me you were raised here? They must have gotten you when you were still an egg –”
“Scribe wyrms give birth to live young, so I would've been here since I was a pup.” the words lingered. “That doesn’t sound any better, does it?”
“Bernard, I don’t think you were ever given a chance not to do as you were told. Your whole life was based on you being a lie detector with no thoughts of your own. You are stuck rotting in a pit, starving yourself, and you are still focused on keeping me trapped here because they told you to.”
“Stranger, I hate to admit it. But you are right.”
“Daisy.”
“What?”
“My name,” she said. “I realised I didn’t introduce myself, so that's my name.”
“I see, it's nice to meet you.”
Daisy took a deep breath as she stood upright once more, “Look, Bernard. I still want to leave. I hope you won’t try to stop me from escaping. But after everything you’ve told me, I hope that you might want to come with me.”
“I am hungry, tired, near death and don’t know who I am outside what I've been told to do all my life” – Bernard let out a deep sigh – “but if I leave with you, I might find something to help with that, the rest can be dealt with along the way. I’ll take your offer.”
“Great!” she exclaimed. “Now I know it's going to be hard, but if you help lift me up, I can climb up the chute, lift off the grate –”
“Don’t be stupid”
“What?”
“It's not going to work.”
“Why not?” Daisy whined.
“I am practically a desiccated corpse. Even if I could lift you up, the bricks are far too slippery. Even if you could climb up, you can’t move the grate up, not even if I could help you.”
“But it's not locked in place!”
“It is an oversized chunk of iron. We would not be able to move it, even if we weren’t simultaneously gripping for dear life inside a slippery tube”
She pouted, “Alright then, mighty wise scribe wyrm. What's your idea?” sarcasm radiated from her.
“I can stick my tail through a gap between the bricks by the door.” said Bernard.
“And what would that do?” asked Daisy.
“It’ll let the guard on the other side know to open the door because I need something from him. We developed a communication system so that he didn’t have to regularly check in. Less work for him and it gave me more time to starve myself.”
A nervous realisation dawned on her, “We were being listened to this entire time?”
“Oh, don’t worry,” said Bernard. “It is super thick. We tested it by screaming at each other through it, can’t hear a thing when it's closed.”
“Right,” she gave herself a moment to make sure she heard him correctly. “So, what's the plan?”
“You hide next to the door, and I give the signal. When he opens it slightly to ask what I want, I will dramatically say that you have escaped. He will fling the door open to make sure there is still a prisoner in here. That's when you jump out and we both tackle him. Do you understand all of that?”
“Sure?”
“After that it's going to be a nasty fight, but he is the only one outside, and we are deep in the castle away from anyone, so we should be able to tussle in peace. Once he is knocked out, we can strip his uniform. You can put on the disguise, throw him into the oubliette, and we should be able to slowly sneak our way out. Sound good?”
“No,” replied Daisy. “What if we get caught, wouldn’t alarm bells be rung if someone saw you outside?”
“I mean, sure. But due to, what I now realise was a terrible way to take my life, I am skinnier than I was before I entered this cell. I might be able to play off as one of my less rotund siblings if anyone asks.”
“The dungeons sound very dark and expansive.”
“Very much so.”
“Maybe once we are out, we can just hang around till it gets dark before going above ground? Then see if we can nab a horse before making a break for the gate.”
“Of course, Daisy,” he said, his head tilting to the side. “It feels like you are implying something”
“It sounded like you wanted us to just bluff our way straight out of the castle instead of hiding till a better time.”
Bernard tried to think of a counterargument, but quickly gave up. “I was, yes.”
“Thank heaven above that I fell into your pit,” sighed Daisy.