Chapter 7: The Gaunt Scholar

The torch in the sconce sputtered and died a few hours later. The darkness that filled the dungeon was absolute, a thick blackness that pressed against her eyes. Elinalise sat on the pallet with her knees drawn up. The only sounds were the steady scrape of Corporal Bren’s whetstone across his dagger and the faint, wet breathing from the other cell. The gaunt man had not moved again.

Her own breathing felt loud. She focused on it, counting inhales and exhales to mark the passage of time. The curse-warmth remained a constant presence, a low furnace in her belly that pulsed gently with her heartbeat. It wasn’t an attack, just a reminder. She tried to ignore it.

Eventually, a new sound intruded. Boots on the stairs. The heavy oak door opened with a groan, letting in a wedge of greyish light from a lantern. A different soldier entered, a young man with a sparse beard. He carried a wooden tray.

“Change of watch,” he said to Bren. His voice echoed in the small space.

Corporal Bren stood up, stretching his back with an audible crack. He sheathed his dagger and nodded to the new guard before leaving without a word. The door thudded shut behind him.

The new guard set the lantern on the floor by his stool and placed the tray on top of it. He sat down, pulling out a chunk of bread from his own pouch and beginning to chew methodically. He didn’t look at Elinalise.

Time passed differently without the torch. The darkness made everything feel slower, heavier. She must have dozed off at some point, leaning against the cold stone, because the next thing she knew was a metallic clang against the bars.

She jerked awake. The new guard was standing there with a wooden bowl in one hand and a dented tin cup in the other.

“Meal,” he said flatly. He slid the bowl through a narrow gap at the bottom of the bars where a hinged flap could be opened. Then he pushed the cup through after it.

Elinalise stood, her muscles stiff from the cold and the awkward position. She walked over and retrieved the offerings. The bowl contained a thin gruel, lukewarm and grey, with a few unidentifiable vegetable pieces floating in it. The cup held water that smelled faintly of iron. She carried them back to the pallet.

She ate slowly, forcing each spoonful down. The gruel tasted of nothing much, just salt and grain. It was fuel. Varek’s instruction about maintaining strength echoed in her head. She finished every bit, then drank the water in slow sips until the cup was empty.

Across the hall, she heard a similar clang. The guard had moved to the other cell. A low, rasping voice muttered something she couldn’t catch. The guard grunted in response and walked back to his stool.

Elinalise set the empty bowl and cup by the bars as instructed. She returned to the pallet, wrapping the rough woolen blanket around her shoulders. It did little against the cellar’s chill.

The guard’s shift seemed to last forever. He occasionally hummed a tuneless song under his breath. He checked a small timepiece he kept in his pocket twice. When the door finally opened again to admit Corporal Bren returning, grey dawn light briefly illuminated the stairwell behind him.

“Anything?” Bren asked.

“Quiet,” the younger guard said, gathering his things. He left.

Bren resumed his post, pulling out his whetstone once more. The rhythmic scraping began again.

This was the routine. Elinalise observed it through that first full day. Two meals, one at what seemed like mid-morning and another at dusk. The guards changed every few hours, always two men she didn’t recognize followed by Bren’s return. They never spoke to her beyond issuing basic commands about the food dishes. They never entered her cell.

The gaunt prisoner across the way slept most of the time, or pretended to. He only stirred for meals, sitting up slowly to accept his bowl and cup before retreating back under his blanket.

Her strategy was simple: be invisible. She stayed on her pallet for most of the day. She moved only to use the bucket in the corner or to collect her meals. She kept her face neutral, her eyes downcast when the guards looked her way. She was a docile prisoner, resigned to her fate.

Inside, she was anything but.

The curse provided a constant, unwelcome distraction. The warmth would occasionally spike without warning, sending a flush across her skin and a tight cramping sensation deep in her core that made her want to double over. She fought those episodes by clamping her jaw shut and focusing on breathing evenly until they passed. She couldn’t afford to show any sign of distress that might prompt a report to Adrion.

She thought about Varek’s words. Rockfalls are common. Ambush sites exist. Road narrows at Black Gorge. They were specific geographical details. If it was a trap, why give her real information? To make the bait more convincing, probably. To make her believe in the possibility enough to walk into whatever snare they had prepared.

But if it was genuine, then those details were a gift. A map of potential opportunities.

She had no way to know which it was. Not yet.

On the second day, during the afternoon meal, she decided to test a different boundary. When Corporal Bren slid her bowl through the flap, she didn’t immediately retreat.

“The water,” she said, keeping her voice soft and hoarse from disuse. “It tastes of metal.”

Bren looked at her, his expression bored. “It’s well water.”

“It’s different from before.” This was a lie; it all tasted the same.

He shrugged one shoulder. “Different well maybe. Drink it or don’t.”

It was a minor interaction, but it served its purpose. She had spoken without being spoken to first and hadn’t been punished for it. The guard’s response was indifferent, not hostile. It suggested a baseline level of permitted communication.

She took her bowl and cup back to the pallet.

Later that day, after the dusk meal had been collected, she heard a fit of coughing from the other cell. It was a deep, wracking sound that went on for a long time. When it finally subsided, she heard harsh, ragged breathing.

Elinalise waited until Corporal Bren left for his own supper break, replaced by another unfamiliar guard who immediately seemed engrossed in picking dirt from under his fingernails.

She stood up and walked to the front of her cell, gripping two of the cold iron bars. The gaunt man was sitting on the edge of his pallet, head bowed, shoulders shaking slightly.

“That sounds painful,” she said quietly.

His head lifted slowly. In the dim light of the single torch Bren had lit upon his return, his face was all sharp angles and deep shadows under his eyes. He looked at her for a long moment as if processing her existence.

“It is,” he croaked finally. His voice was like dry parchment tearing.

“Have they given you anything for it?”

A bitter smile touched his lips. “A blanket.” He gestured weakly at the thin wool covering his legs.

He wasn’t nobility captured in the assault then, Elinalise realized. A nobleman would have complained more specifically about neglect, would have demanded better treatment by right of rank. This man’s bitterness was more general, directed at the entire situation.

“Who are you?” she asked.

He coughed again, a shorter burst this time. “I was Master Alric,” he said after he caught his breath. “Keeper of the Royal Archives.” He said it with a ghost of pride that quickly faded into resignation.

A scholar. Not a warrior or a lord. That explained why he was still alive and down here instead of executed or pressed into labor like Lissa. His knowledge might have value to Grenville, or they simply hadn’t decided what to do with him yet.

“Elina,” she offered, using the same false name from the shrine. It felt strangely fitting now, a mask she kept putting on.

Alric nodded slowly as if filing the information away out of habit. “You were at court? I don’t recognize you.”

“Laundry service.” The lie came easily now.

“Ah.” He looked down at his hands, which were long-fingered and stained with old ink despite the grime now covering them. “They burned them, you know.”

“Burned what?”

“The archives.” His voice went even flatter somehow when he said this “Two days after they took the castle I saw smoke pouring from the library tower windows I asked one of guards why He said Lord Crell ordered it All that paper he said Just tinder”

Elinalise felt something cold settle in her stomach alongside the curse-warmth Her father’s library had been one of largest collections in region Centuries of treaties histories scientific treatises poetry All gone Not just seized but destroyed

“Why?” The word escaped before she could stop it

Alric looked at her his eyes glinting in torchlight “To rewrite history you must first erase original text” He leaned back against wall with weary sigh “Crell always had particular interest in historical narratives He used borrow scrolls for private study I thought he was just curious Now I think he was looking for something specific Maybe he found it Or maybe he just wanted make sure nobody else could”

This was new information Crell’s betrayal wasn’t just political or personal; it was ideological He wanted control over story itself

The guard by door shifted on his stool but didn’t look up

“What will happen to you?” Elinalise asked keeping her voice low

Alric shrugged bony shoulders “I expect they’ll question me eventually Try dredge up whatever I remember from memory Then probably hang me or send me dig latrines until I drop” He said it with chilling matter-of-factness “What about you? Pretty young woman in Grenville dungeon You must have angered someone important”

She hesitated How much to share? This man was fellow prisoner broken and likely doomed That made him potential ally but also potential liability if he decided trade information for favor

“I was in wrong place” she said vaguely “They think I might know something”

Alric gave soft snort that turned into another cough “Don’t we all”

Silence fell between them for while The guard finished with fingernails and pulled out small knife start whittling piece wood

“They talk you know” Alric said suddenly his voice so quiet she almost missed it “The guards when they think I’m asleep or too far gone listen They get bored Standing watch down here is punishment duty They gossip”

Elinalise felt pulse quicken She kept her face still “Oh?”

“About you specifically” Alric confirmed He glanced toward guard who was focused on his whittling “They don’t know who you are They have orders not speak with you But they speculate”

“What do they say?”

“That you’re some noble bastard daughter maybe That you tried poison someone That you’re witch” He paused letting that hang air “Mostly they complain about escort duty coming up Week-long trek north through bandit country with precious cargo They’re not happy about it”

This matched what Varek had said But Alric wasn’t finished

“Heard two them talking last night” Alric continued his eyes fixed on middle distance as if reciting text “One was complaining about having take orders from pointy-hat again Other said at least mage would handle problems if curse-actress got difficult”

Elinalise went very still

“Pointy-hat?” she asked though she already knew answer

“Mage Adrion” Alric said “The skinny one who arrived with Crell Apparently he’s going along on trip To monitor you they said Keep your condition stable” He finally looked at her “But then other guard laughed Said condition wasn’t only thing needed monitoring Said Crell wasn’t letting his prize pet travel without leash either”

The coldness in Elinalise’s stomach spread down into limbs

“Crell is going too?” she asked needing hear it confirmed

Alric nodded slowly “That what they said Lord Crell and mage both accompanying transport Personal oversight Whole thing” He leaned forward slightly lowering voice further “They sounded resentful about it Like extra commanders looking over their shoulders would make journey even more miserable”

Elinalise released bars she had been gripping Her hands felt numb

This changed everything Varek had implied—or she had inferred—that he would be in command of escort That opportunities might arise from natural hazards or his own orchestration But if Crell and Adrion were personally attending every decision every moment would be under their direct scrutiny Varek would have zero autonomy

Worse it made Varek’s offer seem impossibly naive or deliberately false How could he possibly engineer escape with two most dangerous men in kingdom watching him every step? Unless he wasn’t trying to engineer escape at all Unless whole thing was script written by Crell

A test A cruel joke exactly as she had initially feared Give prisoner hope let prisoner plan around fake opportunity then crush it publicly Or use attempted escape as pretext for lethal response No messy questions from Lord Grenville just regrettable incident on dangerous road

She must have shown some reaction on face because Alric was watching her closely now

“Means something to you” he stated not asking

Elinalise didn’t answer She walked back to her pallet and sat down heavily Straw rustled beneath her

The pieces rearranged themselves in her mind Varek’s offer delivered privately but within possible earshot of guards if they were listening hard enough His coded information about road hazards which could be interpreted as help or as mere professional assessment His instruction to stay fit which could be genuine concern or way ensure she was capable of running when trap sprung

With Crell and Adrion present likelihood of trap increased exponentially They were architects of her current hell They wouldn’t risk losing their specimen unless they wanted lose it They wouldn’t leave security solely in hands of captain who had already shown questionable loyalty by helping her once before

So Varek was either incredibly foolish thinking he could outmaneuver Crell on road under Crell’s own nose or he was part deception

Which was more plausible?

She thought about Varek’s face when he crouched before her in lower hall The intensity in his eyes when he spoke about clean fights and dirty magic That hadn’t felt like performance It had felt like genuine disgust

But good liars could simulate sincerity

She had week left in this cell A week gather more information A week decide

The guard finished whittling blew shavings off piece wood and pocketed both He stood up stretched and began pace short length hallway

Alric lay back down on his pallet pulling blanket over himself His coughing had subsided leaving only silence broken by guard footsteps

Elinalise stayed sitting up staring at opposite stone wall but not seeing it

If Varek was lying then his plan—or Crell’s plan—would rely on her trusting him enough to act during transport She would need play along pretend trust him wait for his signal then spring trap herself somehow

If Varek was telling truth then he faced near-impossible task of freeing her under noses of two most observant enemies imaginable He would need miracle or suicide mission

Both scenarios ended with her needing escape on own terms without relying on him

Problem was she had no resources no weapons no allies chained in moving column of soldiers through unknown territory

She needed new plan One that accounted for Crell and Adrion presence One that didn’t hinge on Varek being savior or betrayer One that started from assumption everyone around her was enemy

First step survive next few days Continue appearing docile Manage curse flares Second listen Learn everything she could from guards chatter from Alric Third during transport stay alert not for Varek’s signal but for any moment of chaos real chaos not staged one Rockfall ambush bandit attack something Crell couldn’t control In that chaos she would have to move fast and disappear

Fourth she needed understand curse better It was power according Adrion A terrible power but maybe only weapon she would have

She realized Alric might have more useful knowledge than just overheard gossip

When guard settled back onto stool she stood again and returned bars

“Master Alric” she said quietly

He turned head toward her but didn’t sit up

“You mentioned Crell borrowed scrolls for private study Do you remember what kind? What subjects?”

Alric frowned thinking “Historical accounts mostly Chronicles of kingdom foundations Genealogies Some treaties with neighboring houses Why?”

“Anything about magic? About curses specifically?”

His frown deepened “Some Theoretical texts Royal collection had few bestiaries that touched on magical creatures There were philosophical discourses on nature of power” He paused “And there were sealed archives”

“Sealed archives?”

“Records from time before Dragon Kingdom consolidation” Alric explained “From when this region was patchwork of warring clans led by shamans and witch-kin That material was restricted Access required king’s personal seal” His eyes drifted closed as if searching memory “Crell requested access several times over past year Your—the king denied him first two times Then relented third time last winter I had retrieve scrolls myself They were written in old dialects barely legible”

Elinalise heart beat faster Her father seal hidden against ribs might have been key to those very scrolls And Crell had been studying them

“What did they contain?” she pressed

“I only glanced at them while carrying” Alric admitted “Rituals mostly Descriptions of pacts with old spirits Blood magic Things kingdom founders tried suppress” He opened eyes looked at her “Why does this matter to laundry girl?”

She met his gaze “Maybe it doesn’t But maybe Crell found something in those scrolls he decided use”

Alric held her look for long moment then gave slow nod “Maybe he did”

He didn’t believe she was laundry girl Not anymore But he didn’t press issue either Perhaps he understood some truths were safer unspoken in place like this

“Thank you” Elinalise said sincerely

He just nodded again and turned face toward wall

She returned pallet mind racing now with new connections Crell’s interest in old magic Mage Adrion expertise Her own curse born from spell cast over father corpse It wasn’t random torment; it was specific design rooted in something Crell had learned from forbidden scrolls That meant curse might have rules weaknesses maybe even counters

But she had no way research that now All she had was time and own body as laboratory

She closed eyes focusing inward on curse-warmth Instead trying suppress it she tried examine it mentally tracing edges Where did heat originate? Did it flow? Did it respond emotions?

As soon as she focused on it directly heat seemed intensify Flush spread across chest She stopped immediately breathing hard

Not yet Too dangerous here where guard could see any physical reaction

She would have wait for transport for darkness or privacy to experiment if such thing existed on road surrounded by enemies

For now survival meant stillness

Next two days passed same monotonous rhythm Meals guards changes darkness Alric occasional coughing fits She spoke him few more times careful always when less attentive guard on duty She learned he had wife grown children who likely thought him dead He didn’t ask about her life again They talked about small things taste gruel chill air quality light seeping under door at top stairs marking passage days

On fourth day something different happened During morning meal guard who brought food wasn’t alone Captain Varek followed him into dungeon

Elinalise felt immediate tension grip shoulders but kept face neutral as she accepted bowl through flap

Varek stood few feet back hands clasped behind him He surveyed cell then looked at her His expression was captain doing routine inspection nothing more

“Prisoner is behaving?” he asked guard

“Quiet as mouse sir” guard replied “Eats what given Causes no trouble”

Varek nodded “Good Continue” He turned as if leave then paused looking toward Alric cell “Other one?”

“Coughs lot sleeps rest time sir”

Varek grunted acknowledgement Then his eyes flicked back to Elinalise held hers for fraction second too long before turning away “Carry on”

He left dungeon without another word

Message was clear He knew she knew routine Knew she behaving He had checked That meant he still expected something from her during transport despite Crell presence Or he wanted reinforce illusion he did

She couldn’t decide which more unnerving

That evening after dusk meal as Elinalise sat listening guard scratch himself idly Alric spoke again voice barely whisper across space between cells

“Heard more today” he murmured “Guards talking about supplies for journey They packing extra manacles Special ones lined with something silver他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法他们说可以抑制魔法