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Faladel
It’s bad enough that we got captured by vagabonds, but the fact that they know who I am is horrible. I mean, it might be good for Balderk, he’s probably going to live a little longer if they think he could have value diplomatically, but once they find out he’s nobody, he’s dead.
Briareth’s probably dead too. King’s Archer’s are expected to be able to get themselves out of tricky situations; there isn’t a ransom fund for them. Not to mention, they’ve probably cracked down on brother groups to this one in the past, so, if these thieves find out his job, the best he’ll get is a slow painful death.
I’ll survive this. To these raiders, gold is worth more than vengeance against my family, so I’ll be ransomed. My parents will pay. They’ll face pushback if they use taxpayer money, but they’ll pay up.
Unless we can escape, I’ll be the only survivor. Again.
I got over the guilt of being the only survivor of my platoon, but it was hard. Can I do it a second time? With people I’ve become this close to?
My thoughts swirl as I’m roughly tied up and force-marched to their camp. Balderk’s behind me, he looks confused. Briareth’s in front of me, so I can’t guess how he feels. I watch as a few members of the troop plunder our supplies, ripping open carefully packed bags to see if there’s anything good inside. I overhear one of them asking the leader if they should try to take the deer with them. The leader only shakes his head in response, and I know why. The deer wouldn’t obey them anyway, and they most likely have plenty of food already. Why anyone would want to help feed or clothes these outlaws is beyond me, but they do have supporters from the rural countryside who provide them with basic necessities.
Things changed in the twenty-two years I was gone, and the change has sped up in the two years I’ve been back. Or maybe I just didn’t notice it earlier, and really nothing has changed. Not everyone likes the crown and the way our country is run, not everyone wants the war to end, not everyone thinks the war should continue; although their beliefs are different the extremes of all these sides all think my parents should be ousted, the system should be overthrown, and someone new should come to power. Petty groups of thieves grow with popular support and support of some in power, and we end up with organised bands like this one with over forty active members and connections to other bands across the country.
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Briareth
I mean, it’s kinda our fault for not setting a guard. We should have expected something like this. I’ve been getting tons of memos about things like this happening recently. I should have set a guard, but I was too excited to finally be doing something important again. Everythings been dull since Faladel and I got back, but we were finally going on an adventure again. I was so busy being excited the entire ride that I plum wore myself out! Lesson learned. I’ll do better next time.
Probably.
I might forget.
Whatever, no sense dwelling on the past.
After roughly being tied up, I manage to convince one of the people who were threatening us earlier that taking along Myrddin would be worth it. Horses are much better behaved than deer after all, and Myrddin isn’t very skittish. I watch and make sure that the outlaw is treating him right as we are led along a forest trail, presumably heading to their camp. Faladel is so lost in thought that he doesn’t even notice as one of the elves guarding us tries to trip him. He still avoids it somehow. Does being a prince make you immune to embarrassing situations or something? No bad hair days, no tripping, no clothes out of place, heck, he doesn’t even look dirty from sleeping on the ground last night! I want to know that trick!
Eh… on second thought I probably wouldn’t bother to use it. I’m not that good with keeping a schedule or a ‘morning routine’ anyway. But that doesn’t make me want to know it any less.
Balderk looks a little lost, I can see why Faladel felt the need to stand up for him last night. It probably never even struck him that all elves might not be on the same side. Poor little guy.
As we enter the camp, I notice one group training over by the target practice. They’re not very good, they wouldn’t even get close to Raegel’s standards. I mean, they’re supposed to be aiming for the nose, right? Since that’s the center of the face? That guy in muddy boots just hit a chin cleft! That’s nowhere near the nose!
Suddenly I remember that faces aren’t supposed to be used for target practice, and take a second look at the targets. Fudge. They’re all painted with faces of Faladel’s dad. No wonder that nose looked familiar. No wonder Faladel looks like he’d like to murder these guys. I knew I was getting an unusually hostile vibe from him.
Once all of us are actually in the camp– Myrddin included, I double checked –the leader of this gang starts shouting orders again.
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“Stick the guard and the dwarf in the pit, bring the Prince to me for questioning.”
I’m about to protest. Not the being stuck in the pit part, the part where they called me a guard. I’m a King’s Archer, calling me a guard is like calling an eagle a pigeon! They both poo, but one’s a lot more dangerous.
I open my mouth, but Faladel flicks me and glares. I’m not sure why he’s glaring; I’m the one who got flicked after all. He continues staring at me. I stare back confused. And then it dawns on me, if I was getting memos about these people, the King’s Archer’s have encountered them. If these folks have been encountered by King’s Archer’s, they probably don’t like us. Therefore telling them who I am might be a bad idea. I blink gratefully at Faladel, but they’re already taking him away.
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Balderk
When they bring Faladel back and dump him in the pit with us he’s quiet. The sun rose around two hours ago, and the shadow of the pit’s edge does little to hide his bruising eye or the blood dripping from his split lip. He holds one arm tenderly, not volunteering any information about what happened to him as Briareth gently tries to attend to different cuts. It’s rather obvious what happened though. He doesn’t need to state it. His answers to the questioning were unsatisfactory, they beat him up, he probably didn’t cave, so they beat him up again.
We sit in silence for a while. Briareth eventually asks him what sort of information they wanted.
“They’ll probably ask you different things than they asked me.” He responds curtly. “Don’t tell them anything.”
“I thought you elves were all supposed to be on the same side.” I offer.
Faladel snorts. “If only that were true.”
Briareth elaborates for him. “If you’re looking at it from a dwarven perspective, sure. After all, one of the few things Faladel and these elves who captured us would agree on is that they don’t like most dwarves. However, these elves also don’t like the way the current government is run. Although the people in this group probably have different ideas over how it should be run, they all agree Faladel’s parents shouldn’t be in power. I’m sure such things exist in the dwarven empire as well.”
“I’ve never heard of them.” I say, confused.
“Everybody has differences in opinion.” Faladel says cryptically. “Most just keep them quiet.”
“What’s the punishment for revolt for dwarves?” Briareth asks.
“Umm..” I hesitate
“How about treason? Or what you did, running away with secrets?” Briareth presses
“That’s easy.” I reply, I’d considered the consequences of me running away dozens of times before I actually went through with it. “Death.”
“So is it hard to believe that if there is no knowledge of open revolution going on, people will keep their opinions to themselves?” Briareth asks, smiling.
“I suppose not.” I realize. “So the government is just trying to keep the people too scared to band together? To make sure no revolutions form?”
“Quite possibly.” Faladel confirms. Above us I can hear the sounds of elves waking up and going about their daily business. “The other option is that there already is a revolution and the government has effectively stopped it from communicating it’s existence.” He adds on.
“I mean that’s basically what we try to do after all, even if we aren’t successful.” Briareth chirps in.
“I wouldn’t even call these idiots a rebellion though.” Faladel argues. “If they really had the support of the people and had the movement necessary to create a proper rebellion, they would wait and prove it through an election instead of kidnapping and torture. Then they could change the government from the inside. These groups are just resentful pests. We arrest them on charges of assaulting travelers or robbing government caravans, trying to keep their violent ways from spreading.” His voice is low, but I still glance up worried one of the elves guarding our pit will overhear and react. Neither of them do. The breakfast rush has started, and the chattering of hungry elves must be drowning out the noise of our discussion.
“So Faladel.” Briareth says, seemingly having caught on to the reason Faladel is so talkative now. “What should I expect when they take me in for questioning? Anything fun?”
“I never would have pegged you for the masochist type, Briareth.” Faladel answers dryly, shifting his wounded arm with a wince. “Like I said earlier, your questions will probably be different from mine. I feel like they knew from the start I wasn’t going to tell them anything, so they just had fun asking me a bunch of classified information and beating me when I wouldn’t tell them. Meanwhile, these egotistical jerks probably think that you will be more malleable than me, and will try to get you to answer their real questions.”
“Want me to give them false answers?” Briareth says, smirking.
“I’d like to say ‘no, don’t give these personified rodents even the temporary satisfaction’ but if you feel like their trust could be worth it in our escape, go ahead. I trust you not to tell them anything useful.”
“You guys are already planning an escape?” I’m rather shocked. “How often does this sort of thing happen to you?”
“Of course we’re already planning an escape.” Briareth grins. “Faladel’s an old hat at getting kidnapped.”
“Oh ha ha.” Faladel’s voice is anything but laughing. Looking at me, he explains “Briareth’s an idiot, and I’m leaving our escape in his hands.”
“That doesn’t fill me with confidence.” I reply, slightly scared.
“Don’t worry, his job requires him to get training for this sort of occurrence. Much as he’d love to deny it, he’s actually quite capable. By the way, Briareth, from what I overheard from the guards, you’re up next on the interrogation list. It will probably happen right after breakfast is over, so you should mentally prepare yourself.”
“I’d rather go in without a plan. Things tend to turn out better that way.” Briareth replies cheerily. I can’t tell if the elf is joking or serious. Either way, I find myself being slightly worried for him despite Faladel’s assurances.