The Princess and the Bandit

Chapter 15

I charge forward, whipping my knife about and ducking beneath heavy arms. But I already know it's too late. There are far too many of them. Their armor is heavy and full, with no weak-spots whatsoever. Even if they are poor, stumbling warriors, they suffocate us by brute mass, and within ten short seconds of scrambling, screaming, and clawing, me and Connor are being dragged, kicking and snarling, from the throne room.
Just before the warriors in black had closed in on me, however, I had known I couldn't win, and jammed the dagger back down my bodice before they could see it disappear. And it presses against my skin, cold and sharp, as they drag us roughly down sand-stone corridors, through patterns of flickering shadows and lights cast by yellow torches. We descend, down endless staircases and slopes, receding forever into the pressing darkness of the earth, until I can feel the ground, hundreds of tons of sand-stone, pressing down on us from above.
"In here." Someone grunts, and I'm shoved roughly forwards, spilling onto the ground. A door screams in the darkness, and there's another thump beside me. Then footsteps, voices; the guards leave, retreating back up to the daylight and the sunshine.
"This. Sucks." Connor moans from somewhere in the darkness. My eyes are slowly adjusting to the dankness of the dungeons, the few flickering torches caught in alcoves lining the walls.
"No kidding. I'm stuck in a cage with you." I spit back contemptuously. My eyes finally become accustomed to the dim light, and I can see the bars along one side, the dark corridor behind them, and the damp stone walls to my back. The dank pile of straw in one corner.
"I think that's the least of your concerns now, Hollie."
"You think, Connor? This is all your fault!" I don't even bother to pick myself up off the ground where I fell. I just collapse on my back and stare up at the ceiling. There's a single barred window, not even a foot tall, near the ceiling, looking out on the ground outside.
"How is this my fault?" He huffs, sitting on the ground next to me and leaning forlornly against the wall.
"I... I don't know." I bury my face in my hands. I stopped him before he could really offend the queen after all... I did my best to be com-pliable and polite... but she had her heart set to destroy Clockman from the beginning.
"Why did we ever want to be allies with them?" Connor says incredulously.
"Yeah..." I chuckle weakly. "But allies are better than enemies. And now we're stuck in a hole for who knows how long..."
"She did say she'd 'think things over'," Connor mimics her voice. "whatever that's supposed to mean. But we could be down here for weeks..." I stare at him. "most likely a day." He amends. He stretches, rolling his shoulders, then abruptly pushes himself onto his stomach and begins rolling out rapid fire push-ups.
"Connor...."
"Mmm?" He grunts, his steady, controlled breathing filling the small room.
"What're you doing?"
"Training." He puffs, not slowing down.
"Why?"
"Because, I could turn soft in here." He says, as if disgusted at the thought, lowering and prying himself back up even faster. "I could turn weak."
I snort. "Yeah... We're kind of in a dungeon."
"Yes, so I noticed."
"And... you're... training."
"Yes, we've established that!" He huffs, and because he's watching the ground, I feel free to watch his well-formed arms lifting his weight, his entire body a taut line, never faltering, never shaking. "Fifty," he sighs after a full minute, leaning back agains the wall, barely breathing hard. "and I get some of my best training done in dungeons!"
"Wait-what?" I raise an eyebrow at him. "You've been in a dungeon before?"
"Oh, yeah." He snuffs it off with a wave of his hand. "Loads of times. Every month or so... it happens." He shrugs. "Anyways, you get used to it." he scoots onto his back with a sigh, and begins to do sit-ups.
"Mmm. Well, you have fun with that." I sit back against the wall and stare out the barred window as the afternoon light fades away, switching to the fading grey of dusk, and the room grows even colder.
I pull my knees up to my chest, shivering slightly. Connor continuously cycles through his exercises, push-ups, sit-ups, crunches, even jumping jacks. He rarely speaks, except to comment on the poor suitability of the cell.
"Nowhere to do pull-ups..." He sighs at one point.
"If that's your biggest problem, then you ought to be having a blast."
"Seriously, it's no big deal. Stop freaking out-"
"I'm not freaking out!"
He raises an eyebrow, and I lower my gaze to the ground, as he moves on to the prison bars, testing their strength, then yanking on them as hard as possible.
"Trying to break out?" I say sarcastically.
"Nah... that would just cause more problems." He shrugs. "She'll warm up to the idea eventually. Don't worry, our armies have a reputation; she won't even think of actually attacking Clockman. As for us... she just wants us to feel like our fate is in her hands, like we're helpless. No, breaking out would just infuriate her so she would attack Clockman anyway and destroy Arreton in the process."
"Wait..." I say slowly. "You're talking about this like it's our choice. Like you're choosing to be in here..."
"I am." He snorts, like it's obvious. "Duh."
"Then why are we in here?" I yelp incredulously.
"I just explained it to you." He rolls his eyes. "Breaking out will just set of a chain of events that will take a long time and cause us a lot of trouble- I think one night in prison is worth avoiding all that that."
"But I don't see how you could be choosing to stay-"
"Breaking out is a cinch." He rubs the back of his neck. "No problem at all. Done it a million times before... but right now, it will cause more problems than it will solve."
"You've broken out... of dungeons..." I say in disbelief, crossing my arms.
"Hell, all the time. Once and a while I choose to stay, make them feel better about their security... but I could be out of here any time I want." He finally rests from his intense continual workout and slouches back against the wall.
"Talk about modesty." I snort.
"Yeah, I think I'm being pretty modest, to be honest." He says, looking at me seriously. Then we both snort at the ridiculousness of the sentence, chuckling softly.
I glance back out the window at the rapidly darkening sky, my muscles sore and aching from stiffness. I try and think like Connor is, that we'll be out of here in a matter of days, that everything will be worth it... but dark, sinister doubts swarm my mind... two days princess of Clockman, now doomed to spend the rest of her life in solitary confinement with...
Connor.
We sit in silence, watching the last flickering rays of sunlight drain from the sky and blackness consume the earth. A guard arrives to extinguish torches, and the cell is plunged into pitch darkness.
I feel my tired eyes closing of their own accord, and fold onto my side with a sigh. After a moment I roll over to face the wall, trying to conserve my body heat, but I shiver nonetheless.
"Good night." Connor calls dutifully, without emotion, from the other side of the cell, his voice flowing like gold, puncturing the oily blackness and the eery silence that presses on my ears.
"Yeah... if you can call it that." I mutter back sleepily, trying to keep my teeth from chattering, as my body begins to quake in violent shivers that wrack my entire petite form.
Breathing shakily, I curl up as tightly as possible, wishing for once I had worn a heavier dress. And I let shivering, shaking darkness drip behind my eyelids like poison oil, filling my ears and suffocating me, luring me down forever into the bottomless pit.