Refusing the autarch’s offer to be subservient to him, Felanar and company find themselves back in prison. NOTE: This is as dark as this tale ever gets.
Blackness. Deep despair. A dull ache. Felanar sat hunched over in the darkness of the dungeon cell and let his mind drift into oblivion. Hours had passed since he and Kara had been marched at spear point back to this cell, the same one they had originally occupied, or so it seemed to him. What did it matter really? All cells were the same here.
It was an hour or more before Alessa and Dolen were brought to the cell, accompanied by guards but not marched there against their will. Namonikkar had one more attempt in mind. Alessa explained to Felanar that she and Dolen were not prisoners, that they were told they were free to leave, but before they did the autarch had asked them to try to convince Felanar to change his mind.
With the guards standing beside her Alessa tried to be circumspect in her language, but the gist of it was that if Felanar would sign the treaty they could all leave freely, and how smart it would be for him to do so. The guards heard Alessa say those words, but they did not see her eyes, which shone brightly in the dark cell. Felanar did see the eyes and could tell immediately that Alessa was telling him to ignore her words.
He refused and Alessa and Dolen left, only to return a few minutes later at spear point. Having failed to convince Felanar, the autarch announced they too would be held for Vélakk’s men. The four prisoners had spent several hours in the dark saying nothing. Kara had tried to talk to her brother, but his lack of response cut the conversation short.
Blackness. Pain. Anguish. Felanar’s thoughts swirled in a jumble of incoherent emotions. He had his head buried between his knees as he sat on the cell floor. Silence.
The slot in the cell door slid open and a meal was delivered. Felanar raised his head at the sound.
“I despise power,” he said softly.
The others stirred, but remained silent.
“Power leads to deception. Deception leads to death. I would never have been born to power if it were in my control.”
“I know,” said Kara softly in the dark.
“Who can I trust?” cried Felanar, the words spilling out of him now. “The guardian? The autarch? My army captains? Who?”
“My father,” said Alessa.
“I wonder,” said Felanar bitterly. “All I hear in these lands are how awful the elves act.”
“Do not say such things!” Alessa’s eyes burned brighter with her emotion. “You cannot trust this ruler, he says whatever brings him gain and would tell lies as easily as he takes breath.”
“It isn’t only him, Alessa,” said Felanar. “Jela and Pross said the same thing, and I have no reason to doubt their word.”
“You have no reason to trust their word,” countered Alessa. “They admitted they knew nothing first hand of the border lands. They are ignorant people who repeated old tales told by those who want to create a fanciful story.”
“Me,” interrupted Kara. “You can trust me.”
Felanar was silent for a long time.
“I know,” he finally said. “I’m sorry. I am too trusting, and now that I am throwing away my trust I throw you away with it. I’m sorry. I’m tired, sister. I’m tired of being chased and hounded and jailed and bullied. I’m tired of this life as a king with everyone trying to take what I don’t even want! I’d give it all away if I could have my old life back. I would give it all away!”
“What do you mean?” asked Kara.
“Just that,” he said. “Let Ravesfel run the land and you and I can go back to Brindledown. A fisherman’s life for me.”
“No,” said Kara, “I do not think that is the life for me, a fisherman’s wife. Nor do I see it for you.”
“You cannot abandon your subjects,” said Dolen gruffly. “Kings are not chosen, they are who they are. You are king, and always will be king so long as you have life. A king living as a fisherman a king remains.”
“I may not have life long,” said Felanar.
“That is something we shall have to see,” said Alessa hearing his bitterness. “I assure you I will not give up so easily. As I explained, a life to an elf is a bit more precious than it is to a man.”
“What is the point of taking power?” said Felanar, his voice rising. “Do you all wish me to become like the autarch, turning against friend if it buys me an advantage? Shall I become like Ravesfel and apologize oh so softly while I seize what I need from another? Or should I become evil like Vélakk? Which example of power would you like me to follow in my life?”
“Those are not the only choices, brother,” said Kara.
“They are the ones I know,” said Felanar.
“There is one in his cell who has shown true loyalty, and yet you ignore his example!” cried Alessa.
“Dolen is a good friend,” said Felanar, “and I wish him nothing but best times in his rule. But he is just now come to power, and who knows how the corrupting influence will affect him in time. What is the point of taking power if that very act sends you down the road to ruin or worse yet despair? Better it is to not have power than to be brought down by it. At least we won’t have to worry much longer, for death seems to wait for us at every turn and now has almost got us in its grasp.”
For a long time nothing much was said and eventually they fell into sleep as this day drew to a close.
They were woken the next morning by the sound of the cell door being opened and guards marching in. Before Felanar was fully awake he was grabbed by his arms and lifted to his feet. He cried out as he was dragged from the cell while other guards kept the other prisoners from advancing.
“Where are you taking him?” cried Kara as she pressed against a guard.
“What do you want?” yelled Alessa.
Felanar having been removed, the other guards backed out and the cell door was slammed shut. They heard Felanar being walked and dragged across the stone floor down the hall. A door was heard being opened far away and then it too slammed shut. Then silence for a few minutes. Then came sounds that filled Alessa with dread – and then everyone. Felanar crying out in pain from something being done to him. His voice was distant and muffled but clearly in pain. Alessa, who could hear it more clearly than the others, shrank backward in shock at the awful sounds. Kara rushed over to Alessa’s side and urged her to tell what she was hearing.
“No,” Alessa whispered.
“Why?!” cried Kara. “What are they doing to him? What can you hear?”
Alessa closed her eyes, and in the dark her inner light was shut off to Kara’s view. “Terrible things.”
The sounds continued for a while then ceased. There was silence, briefly, and then the same sound of feet being dragged across the stone. The cell door swung open and Felanar’s body was hurled to the floor of the cell. The door slammed shut. Kara and Alessa rushed to the fallen Felanar groaning in a stupor.
“How hurt are you?” cried Kara. “What did they do to you?”
Felanar moaned.
“Brother! Where are you hurt? I can’t see a thing in this stinking cell!”
“Let me examine him,” Alessa said softly as she gently moved Kara aside. Her eyes could see more, though even the elf could see little. Partly through concentrated vision and mostly through feel, Alessa ascertained where the wounds were most grievous. She carefully and gently peeled away Felanar’s clothing to get at the injuries. Felanar cried out in pain as his shirt was removed, but said nothing. Alessa caressed each wound as she had done with Pross and Jela earlier. There were many.
Almost half an hour passed before Alessa was done, and Felanar had by this time slipped into unconsciousness, something Alessa said was best for him at this time. “He will feel better when he has rested and his body has healed somewhat.”
“Will he be all right?” asked Kara anxiously. “What did they do to him?”
“Yes,” said Alessa, resting her had on Kara’s arm, “he should recover from his ordeal. What they did to him was damage his body in horrible ways, but by what means I cannot say. But he bore up under their torture or else they would not have locked him back in this cell.”
“He defeated them, in other words,” said Kara with a shudder, “but at an awful cost. How horrible!”
“Yes.”
Apart from being served a meal, nothing disturbed the prisoners during the rest of that day or the night that followed. Felanar remained unconscious the entire time, except to stir from time to time before slipping back into sleep.
The next morning when another meal was brought and the cell door slammed shut again, Felanar finally awoke. Speaking quietly in the darkness he said:
“I have been asleep a long time, I think.”
“You are awake!” cried Kara happily. “I was so worried about you! Alessa tried to heal your wounds. Are you hurt badly? Are you all right?”
“Slowly, Kara,” said Felanar weakly. It felt to him that he was just emerging from a long dark tunnel.
“I’m sorry, brother, to overwhelm you with words! I was just so worried.”
“Thank you,” Felanar said more strongly. In the dark the others heard him struggling to sit up. He made a cry of pain and then lay back down.
“I did what I could to heal you,” said Alessa apologetically, “but your wounds were so severe that I didn’t have the proper herbs, or you would be much better. But you will recover in time. I had to go mostly by touch, I’m afraid.”
“Thank you, Alessa,” said Felanar as he felt the pain receding.
Her eyes acknowledged his thanks.
“Brother, what did they do to you?”
Still feeling pain he said:
“The autarch wanted to convince me one last time. He had not yet sent word to Vélakk, he told me, and preferred not to, but that his powers of persuasion had failed on me. So he wanted to try another way.”
Felanar felt himself shudder. He did not continue.
“So he has not yet sent word?” asked Kara.
“By now he has, but not . . . when did this happen?” asked Felanar.
“A day ago,” said Alessa.
“Then he had not as of yesterday,” Felanar continued, “but by now he has, or else he is once again lying to me.”
“What did he do to you?” asked Kara again.
“Terrible things.”
Kara moved to his side and took his hand.
“All right,” she said quietly.
“So now we wait for Vélakk’s men to arrive for us?” asked Dolen.
“Yes,” said Felanar quietly.
