| Subject: Waiting |
Author:
Aragorn
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Date Posted: 11:43:14 06/23/02 Sun
He sat, alone, in the darkness. His head throbbed and the uneven stone of the floor cut through the material of his now hopelessly soiled garments.
The king had woken in the blackness of this cell; a trickle of sticky blood oozing from one temple, the smell of stale urine and rotting flesh strong in his nose. He had stood up immediately but the dizziness that followed had forced him to resume this sitting position and so he sat and waited.
What had happened was still a mystery to him so Aragorn focused instead on what was happening now. The situation must be assessed; an escape route, if there was one, planned. He rose, the sickness gone and felt his way carefully towards one of the walls he could not see. His fingers found the damp granite and he moved slowly along it until he found the place it joined the gate. The iron bars were rusty and he felt them flake under his hands. An opporunity perhaps. But as he felt the rest of the barrier he knew the hope to be a futile one. The rust was less than a year old and the other rods were solid. There was no escape from this hell he had created for himself.
He felt his way round the other two walls, his hands recoiling from every moist growth on their surfaces. His search complete he resumed his place on the floor dejectedly. His cell was perhaps six foot square. No windows adorned its walls and the only exit was by the iron door way through which he had entered. It seemed as though he was going to be here a very long time.
He was reaching up in an attempt to stop the blood that still leaked from his forhead when the cheerful voice came through one of the walls.
"Hi! You're new aren't you. So am I? What are you in for? I'm in for stealing. It's awful down here isn't it? I don't like it one bit. What's your name? Mine's Derek."
"Sam," Aragorn lied before adding, "You ask alot of questions for one who it is likly will never see the light of day again."
"Oh, I don't believe that. I'll be out soon enough. The king will free me I can just feel it."
"I wouldn't place to high a hope on that my friend if I were you."
"That's what I keep telling him," a somewhat more subdued voice remarked from his other side. "But that one won't listen. The king this and the king that. He never shuts up about the flaming king. Give it a rest for pity's sake."
"Oh why don't you give it a rest?" Derek called back. "Always moaning and complaining. Sam here doesn't want to listen to your belly aching. Not when he's going to be rescued soon along with me."
"Give it up lad. You've been in here for two years and your wonderful king hasn't lifted a finger to get you out so far, has he?"
"You've been in here for two years?" Aragorn whispered. "What did you steal?"
"I can't quite remember," Derek admitted. "Probably some kind of food. Oh wait, it was an apple from Old Man Oak."
"And you?" the king turned to the other man he could not see."
"Vandalism. Some soldiers were riding through our town as I was playing catch with my son in the square. I threw the ball too hard and in the wrong direction. It hit the statue of the king that stands in its center. The nose snapped off and I was convicted of vandalism."
"Don't worry Masters. The king'll get you out too."
"Yer sure. And I'm a duke."
The two other prisoners fell silent and Aragorn lay down in the cell between the apple stealer and the statue smasher. He felt the drip of blood from above his eyebrow drip down his cheek and mix with the salt water from his eyes.
The king will save us.
How can he, Aragorn reflected bitterly, when he can't even save himself?
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