It's hard to tell time in a dungeon. But the pale woman is able to count heartbeats by the throb of her injured arm. Five hundred beats after the Old Man had decided to look around the citadel, the door to her cell opens with a screech.
Expecting a guard, the appearance of a nervous young man dressed as a page is curious. As is the medical kit thrust toward her.
“Uh… miss Nerta, y-you need some medicine and bandages right?”
Her breath steaming in the cool air, she swallows hard to clear her throat.
"Thank you, lad. I hope the Old Man wasn’t too big of a scare.”
The boy fidgets with his tunic while Nerta opens the pack to pull out salve and alcohol.
“It’s alright miss. I heard about what you did down at the quarry…”
A faint smile turns to a wince as she cleans the wound, and the page fills the silence.
“The Captain is just worried about the war, the army was routed in Qual and there’s been looting.”
The splash of alcohol has Nerta hiss and tense, leading the page to nearly jump out of his skin. As the pain subsides, Nerta shrugs.
“The captain arrested me for the same reason you’re staring.”
The boy had the decency to flush and look away, leaving Nerta to fill the silence.
“It’s alright. I’m used to it.”
Working the salve into the cut, she continues.
“I heard others being released but I’m still here. Why?”
The boy rubs his head and glances over his shoulder.
“The Duke’s busy with the war and the Captain wants you transferred out of the city and to the judge.”
Nerta snorts as she winds the bandages around her arm.
“The Royal Judge for little old me? I guess the Ice Queen was in a hurry to balance her scales of fate.”
Tying off the bandage, Nerta folds back up the pack and pushes it toward him with her foot.
“Thank you lad, now get going before you get in trouble. I have to clean up my cell for company after all.” |