It felt as though I was a tower, crumbling in on itself and crashing into oblivion. I was ripped apart. Emptied. Collapsed into a ruin from which there was no returning. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't make sense of anything, couldn't form a clear thought, couldn't breathe. I sat there, frozen in time. Balliol was speaking--I could see his lips moving--but I had no idea what he was saying. Perhaps he was gloating. He'd finally done it. He'd broken me.
I allowed myself to be pulled up from my spot on the floor, stumbling along as I was dragged across the room by a tight grip on my arm. Suddenly, brightness. So bright my eyes squeezed shut of their own accord. Fresh air hit my face and brought me back with a jolt.
/Outside./
I'd forgotten what sunlight felt like. The warm, gentle kiss of it on my skin eased my shaky breath. The air was cold and dry, a sure sign of midwinter, and it waged war against the warmth from the sun on my skin. I simultaneously wanted to escape the sensation and bask in it.
"Your reward, Lynarra, for the information," the slick voice of Lord Balliol explained. "You were never here to be punished. We want to give you power, respect, a chance to help your kingdom. You just need to let us. Help us--as you did today--and we will give you more than you can imagine."
He released his grip on my arm, apparently deciding I could be trusted not to run. I opened my eyes nervously. I wasn't sure what to expect. Some new torture, perhaps. Instead,I found I was standing in the middle of a fort. High walls surrounded a cluster of single story buildings. Soldiers were everywhere, all of them seeming to walk with a purpose as they made their way toward some destination or another. Most of them glanced at us. A few of them let their gaze linger too long for comfort and I became painfully aware of my less than modest dressings. Since my capture I'd been afforded no clean clothes. The skirt and blouse I'd been wearing that night now hung in filthy tatters and provided barely any coverage. Suddenly the cold air won out against the sun. I shivered and hugged my arms around my chest.
"Where are we?" It came out as little more than a scared whisper.
"Fort Jocund. It's where the kingdom trains its soldiers and--"
A loud roar interrupted him, reverberating through the air. I jumped and looked around wildly.
"--and breaks its dragons."
/Dragons? Real dragons? He mentioned them once before, but I thought it was just some twisted joke./ I filled it away to ask about later.
"And its Praecants," I added flatly, recalling the conversation from the first time we'd met. Lord Balliol eyed me strangely.
"You're an unusual exception," he admitted. I wondered how long we would stand here in the cold, me hugging my tattered clothes to myself, before something snapped in one of us. It was odd to have a casual conversation with the man who'd caused me nothing but pain and terror for weeks.
"What do you mean?"
"Normally, we get Praecants as children, when they're easier to train. In the rare instances when we acquire an older Praecant, they learn quickly or are killed." He paused, and gave me the same strange look as before. "Your insolence should have gotten you killed by now. But for some reason, the king has taken a special interest in you."
"Special interest?" I repeated dumbly.
"Why do you think none of the men here have had their way with you--the goodness of their hearts?" Balliol laughed, his voice laced with sarcasm.
My stomach flipped.
"He intends to have you for himself. King Alaric is many things, but a sharing man he is not. He's claimed you, and he will have you. Once you are properly trained, you will be sent to the castle."
"I refuse to be some royal concubine," I retorted, straightening my spine. "You might as well kill me now."
"Obviously I can't do that. Not to worry, he still wishes you to be part of his army as well. You begin training tomorrow. For now, enjoy your reward."
He summoned a soldier over to us.
"Take her to the baths, and see that she is brought clean garments. I have some important information to relay."
~~~
Soon after, I was soaking in a large metal tub. There was a soldier on the other side of the door, but none in the room with me. I contemplated escape, but thought better of it for a number of reasons, not the least of which was my lack of clothing. After I'd stripped of my rags, they'd been taken away, but new ones had not yet been brought. I couldn't very well escape into the wilderness naked. Even if it weren't winter, I couldn't bring myself to do that. Lord Balliol knew it.
Then there was the issue of how I would ever escape a fortress crawling with soldiers and surrounded by high stone walls. No, better to stay and accept my "reward" as he'd called it.
The word sent a stab of guilt through me.
/Failure. You're weak. You're nothing but a traitor./ I was sure that as I sat in the tub, Balliol was informing the king of all he'd learned...would he send an army to Vrysdale? The grim reality was that I could do nothing about it. Nothing but pray to the Gods that they would be spared, and I would be granted death instead.
While the heated water did nothing for my soul, it did assuage the aches of my battered body. I sank lower into the bath with a sigh. I closed my eyes and listened carefully. Yes. There was a faint roar that could be heard even through the thick stone walls around me.
"Dragons," I breathed, awestruck.
I listened to the roars for a long time, their angered cries echoing my own pain.