The Bandit Queen

Chapter two

 Edmund couldn't see it at first.

 But he did smell it.

 Before his eyes adjusted, he could smell the stench, one of sweat and grime. There was dim moonlight filtering in through a far up window. Edmund blinked, adjusting, and looked again into the room.

 He saw a sea of people.

 Men, women and children. They all stared up at him, with a hungry, blank look in their eyes. The air was heavy, with desperation and defeat. The stench from earlier Edmund now recognized as the smell of unwashed bodies. thick heavy chains encircled their wrist and ankles.

 Edmund stumbled back. This is not  what he anticipated.

 He crashed into a man, much taller than him. Edmund turned, expecting one of his men, but instead was faced with a large hulk of a man, his face marred and twisted. Edmund's hand darted for his sword, but the man was quicker. He shoved Edmund hard against the wall, Edmund's head slamming against the brick. Edmund's vision swam, his thoughts in a jumble. He tried to dart around the man, but the previous blow dulled his movements. The man easily grabbed him, and slammed Edmund into the wall again. This time, darkness overtook Edmund.

_

 Edmund awoke with a throbbing head. Groggily, Edmund tried to understand his surroundings. He hands were tightly bound, but seemed like his feet were free. That was good. He could still try and kick his way to freedom, if it came to that.

 He was in some kind of hall. The room was tall but not wide, the walls covered in thick dusty curtains. It was still night, and the chamber was dimly lit by lamps off to the side. Guards stood silently off to the side, and right next to an lavish, but empty chair. other than these men, he was alone.

 What had happened to his men? This question bugged Edmund the most. How had someone snuck up on them so quietly, and how had Edmund not noticed when the fighting began? Had there even been a fight? Edmund shuddered to think of where they were now. Maybe, he thought hesitantly, they weren't even alive.

 The door behind him creaked open. Edmund sat still, locking his jaw into place. He was a king after all- and he would act like it.

A man in a lavish robe and sauntered into view. He walked with a cruel confidence, an attitude that could only mean trouble for Edmund. The top part of his robe was loosely tucked into a leather belt, embedded with jewels and holding a wicked looking set of daggers. The man smiled cruelly.

 "Imagine my surprise," the man began in a thick Mediterranean accent, "When I was woken from my slumber, because the impetuous Prince of Narnia decided to try and ransack my cargo!"
He leaned towards Edmund, an ugly sneer twisting his face. "Would you like to explain yourself?"

 Edmund returned his gaze evenly. "First of all, it's King Edmund, not Prince." The man raised an eyebrow and Edmund continued, "Who am I speaking to?"

 The man straightened, "The grand Ardit Dervishi, in the flesh.", he replied smugly.

 Edmund smiled sarcastically. "I see. Ardtwit Dervishi, where are my men?"

 Ardit narrowed his eyes at Edmund. "You are not in the position to ask questions, nor to be snide."

 Edmund stifled the urge to roll his eyes. "Then I assume you have questions for me."

 Ardit flicked his hand toward the guards, and they yanked Edmund to his feet roughly. Ardit leaned in close, his stale breath on Edmund's face.