Alwyn
The huddled form in the jail cell stirred at Wilder's voice. With broken movements, the form shifted and lifted his head to the light. Wilder sucked in a sharp breath. Even with the man's face cut on one side and bruised on the other, Alwyn knew this was Wilder's father. Who else would share the same striking hazel eyes as his son?
"Father," Wilder said. He rose from his crouch and swiveled around, searching. "We need to find the keys. I have to get in there."
The urgency in Wilder's voice sounded strange to Alwyn. She'd never thought that type of desperation would come from Wilder. Before he could run off to find the keys and in the process get them caught, Alwyn grabbed his arm.
"Hold this," she said, pushing the torch into his hands. "And hold still."
It spoke to how rattled Wilder was that he didn't argue or question her. That alone unnerved Alwyn. She extracted two slender metal picks from a cut in her belt and went to work. The lock was more complex than the one in the main prison. But Alwyn steadied her breathing and felt as she guided the picks through the tumblers.
A satisfying click filled the quiet prison and she swung to door open. Wilder hurried inside, kneeling by his father. The light made the man wince and Alwyn snatched the torch from Wilder's hand before he could blind his father. Wilder didn't even seem to notice.
"Father," Wilder said. "I thought...I thought you were dead."
Alwyn stared at Wilder. No longer could she see the arrogant, commanding leader that had stepped onto her ship. Instead, she saw a boy. A boy who'd lost his father and found him again. The vulnerability of the moment forced Alwyn to set aside her previous anger at him.
Wilder reached out and gently helped his father to sit up. Wilder's father grunted with the movement and Alwyn dropped her gaze away from his face and to the rest of him. His uniform was dirty and ripped in places, exposing barely cared for lashes and bruises. His feet were bare and it looked like someone had sliced the bottom of them, making it impossible for him to walk. The brutality of it all made Alwyn hurt for this man.
Wilder's father opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a low grasp. Failing a second time to speak, he leaned his head back against the metal bars and closed his eyes, exhausted. It was then Alwyn saw beyond the beating, instead saw the starvation.
"Stay here," she told Wilder.
It was a pointless command since Wilder appeared to be made of stone, his eyes pinned on his father. Alwyn left the cell, taking the light with her. She retraced their steps until she returned to the escape tunnel door.
With more effort than she thought it would take, she pried the door open enough for her to slip through. She rummaged through her pack until she found her water canteen and her rations. When she returned to Wilder's side, she held out the gift.
"This will help," she said.
Wilder wordlessly accepted the water and food. Shifting closer to his father, he carefully tipped the canteen to his father's lips. The Commander started to revive at the first dribbles. When he'd drunk half of the contents, he seemed more awake.
With the same caring movements, Wilder fed his father bits of food. As the last of it vanished, Wilder's father stared up at his son. Weakly, he raised his hand and touched Wilder's cheek.
"Wilder," he said, his deep voice still rough from pain.
"I'm here," Wilder said, his voice choked.
His father blinked then frowned. "The Princess?"
"She's safe."
The Commander let out a sigh of relief. "I knew you would do it." Another thought wrinkled his brow. "Why are you back here? Where is she?"
"We came to learn what was happening here," Wilder said. "And Lydia is in-"
His father stalled his words with a hand. "Don't tell me. I don't want to betray her if asked."
Wilder paused, confused by the remark, his logical brain having fallen asleep for a moment. But Alwyn knew what the Commander meant. She also knew how this reunion would end. But couldn't tell Wilder, not right then. Before Wilder could speak, Alwyn cut in.
"Is there anything you can tell us about what is taking place in the palace or the city?"
The Commander nodded. "Yes. The guards like to torture me with news as much as they do with their blades."
Alwyn noticed as Wilder paled but he curled his fingers, anger building up inside him. But this was not the time.
"Tell us," Alwyn said.
"They have kept the rouse of Prince Corwin surviving." The Commander cough, the sound ragged. "They've told the people that he is very weak but recovering. The North Isles king, King Titus arrived a week after the attack. He said he'd come to help aid us. He's provided food and guards." He coughed again. "All his actions are said to be done for peace. But his guards have been replaced my soldiers."
Alwyn hated the question she was about to ask but knew it had to be done. "Are all your soldiers dead?"
Closing his eyes tiredly, The Commander shook his head. "No. But they have been locked away in the main prison. The lie for that was they aided the assassins."
The lie was a smart one but keeping the soldiers alive seemed like a foolish move on the King's part.
"Why not kill them?" Alwyn asked.
"Because if they use my father," Wilder said, coldly. "They can make the soldiers swear loyalty to King Titus. With Prince Corwin truly dead, the final loyalty they have is to their Commander."
His father nodded to this. "Already they have made an example of me to keep them in line."
With all the injuries marking his body, Alwyn could imagine how persuasive of an example he would make. It turned her stomach thinking of it. She shared Wilder's anger.
"Can you tell us anything else?" Alwyn asked.
The Commander opened his eyes, focusing on Alwyn as finally realizing she crouched next to him. Despite how beaten he looked, she could still see the spark of life in his eyes. In seeing him, she understood Wilder. This man had raised his son to fight, to survive.
"The servants are still loyal to the crown," he managed to say. "They have kept me and my captains in these cells alive by sneaking us food and water."
Alwyn surveyed the other darkened cells, imagining more huddled men. She admired the courage it would take to slip past guards to bring the food, all the while knowing that if caught the fate must be worse than a cell.
"Thank you," she said. "This is what we needed."
Wilder reached out and took his father's arm, about to wrap it around his shoulder.
"We should leave," he said. "If there is anything more you think of, you can tell us on the ship."
Alwyn froze, her heart seizing. How could she possibly tell him the truth? She couldn't. Not with the hope she'd seen in his eyes. But she didn't have to.
Wilder's father drew his arm back from Wilder's hold.
"You can not take me," he said.
Wilder frowned, confused. "What do you mean? Of course you're coming with us. I'm not leaving you. Not again."
The Commander tried to smile at Wilder but the effort was too much.
"You never left me. You protected Princess Lydia. That is what I asked of you."
"And now I'm here and can protect you."
The fear in Wilder's voice was evident. Alwyn touched his shoulder in comfort but he shoved her hand away.
"Father, I'm not leaving here without you."
His father gripped Wilder's arm, though it seemed to take all the strength he had.
"You must," he said. "If they find me gone they will know you were here. It could cost lives. You have to leave me."
Alwyn watched as realization then panic followed by determination dart through Wilder's expression. Wilder grabbed his father's shoulders, unaware of how it hurt the man.
"No," Wilder said. "I can't...Please don't make me lose you again."
Wincing at Wilder's grip, his father touched his son's face.
"You were brave last time," he said. "I need you to be brave again."
Alwyn felt like she was intruding on Wilder's private thoughts as he stared at his father and she saw the war taking place inside him. After a tense minute, Wilder slowly released his hold on his father. The single action seemed to break him.
"Stay alive," he said, his voice low and rough with emotion. "We will come back and I will get you out of here."
This time the Commander managed a small smile. "I know you will."
Alwyn stood and after another struggled moment, Wilder rose as well. He stared down at his father, face tense.
"I will come back."
"Go," his father said.
They left the cell and Alwyn passed Wilder the torch as she relocked the door. The bolt sliding into place held an ominous sound. Wilder stood there and it took Alwyn taking the torched from him and hooking her hand around his arm to get him to move. They traveled further into the prison until they reached the escape tunnel and closed themselves inside.
The thud of the door sealing seemed to break Wilder. He crossed to the tunnel and slammed his hands against the wall. Over and over again he hit the stone. Alwyn remained motionless feeling each hit, feeling the raw pain of emotion. How could this be the same person who'd she thought unbreakable back on the ship?
Finally, Wilder stopped and leaned on it, pressing his forehead into the stone. When he started to cry and his shoulders began to shake, Alwyn wanted to hide away.
She didn't know how to comfort him. Didn't know what to say to take away the pain. She could make promises of them returning, but what was it worth when it was a hollow promise?
"I thought he was dead," Wilder choked out. "I thought I'd lost the last of my family. And now...I've lost him again."
"You haven't lost him." Wilder dropped his hands, head bent. "We will come back. And everyone in that palace who has hurt him, you will hurt."
Wilder stiffened then slowly raised his head, curling his fingers. Instantly, Alwyn knew what he was thinking. Knew the way his shoulders drew back, the way his spine straightened. She knew because she'd felt that same resolve to fight so many times before. As Wilder spun around, Alwyn intercepted his path to his weapons.
"No," she said.
The Wilder she knew, stared down at her. His face showed no sign of emotion. Even with the redness around his eyes, it was hard to believe his heart had been breaking moments ago. Instead, a cold, calculating soldier stood before her.
"You said it yourself, I will make them hurt."
"Not now!" Alwyn hissed.
"Yes, now," Wilder said, voice hard. "Get out of my way, Alwyn."
Despite not showing emotion, Wilder was driven by them. In that breath, Alwyn saw herself. She saw all the times she'd let her emotions rule her, fuel her actions. Actions that had always ended in disaster. And how many times had Cyrus tried to stop her? If only he were here he'd laugh at this irony.
"Don't be me," she said. "It's not worth it. I'm telling you now, it's not worth it."
Wilder squeezed his fists but remained there. Even though her words stopped him, she saw the battle raging inside him. She knew his love for his father and fury over seeing him were nearly defeating his logical side. She reached out and touched his arm, trying to turn the tide.
"Lydia needs you alive," she said. "Think of her."
The battle ended and Wilder turned his face away from Alwyn. He closed his eyes and in the light of the flame, she spotted a final tear spill out.
"We should go," Wilder murmured.
Alwyn said nothing, simply retrieved her weapons and pack. The trek back through the tunnel vastly contrasted the one earlier. Neither of them spoke and instead of hating Wilder for his condescending manner, all Alwyn wanted to do was offer support. But she didn't know how, so stayed silent.
At the hatch, Wilder boosted Alwyn up and she pushed the trap door open. With a grunt, she pulled herself up. The day had slipped away, leaving them in a cool night lit by a clear sky crowded with stars and a bright moon. Alwyn turned back to the hole, peering down. The flame was extinguished. A second later, Wilder jumped, his hands grasping the edge of the hole. Alwyn grabbed his arms, helping him as he clambered up.
Once free, he pushed himself to his feet walked a few steps. He stopped and stood there, hands on his hips, his face tilted up. Alwyn eased the trap door closed and arranged the ivy around it, hiding it. She sat back, leaning on the wall, eying Wilder. With his back to her, she wasn't sure what state he was in. She didn't speak, wanting to give him space.
Wilder turned his head this way and that, inspecting the surroundings. Nothing stirred in the night except the forest, the trees brushing fingers with each other while birds cooed goodnight.
Wilder bent down, picking up a fallen stone, and hurled it at the furthest wall. The force of the impact cracked the brick. He grabbed another, sending it crashing into the wall. Stone after stone, he threw until he screamed with rage.
All while Alwyn sat there. This she understood. This anger, this frustration, this pain, she knew. It came from being helpless to change something. Powerless to act when action was what was needed. She didn't stop him. She didn't bother him. She let him be.
After all how many times had she wanted to break something because she couldn't get her crew to follow orders? How many times did she feel she wasn't living up to her mother's name?
Wilder threw the last stone and his arms hung by his side, his chest rising and falling with heavy breathes.
"Feel better?" Alwyn asked.
Wilder faced her and seemed surprised that she wasn't at all startled by his actions. Then his brow lowered.
"I'm coming back here and I'm destroying the men who did this," he said.
"Good, I'll help."
Wilder held her eyes and nodded once. At that moment, they understood each other.
**********************************************************************
"All right, we didn't die today! I call that an unqualified success!"
*grabs your hands and pulls you over the ledge. We both fall to the ground panting*
Woo we're off the cliff hanger.
*Glare at me then point to the cliff that hangs above us*
Yeah, and one more to go.
*I sigh* Right.
Well, at least this one is over, that's something.
*You push yourself up and staring down at me*
Except you've now felt me with an emotional damaged character, YET AGAIN!
So is that how you feel? Are those all your thoughts on the chapter or do you have more to tell me? If you do, go ahead and share. 🧜🏽♀️⚔️🛡
I for one feel like we've reached a milestone. Alwyn and Wilder have found some common ground, this is good people!
Can we talk about how Alwyn was the one to keep a level head through this! Not going to lie, I didn't know our girl had it in her. So proud.
*flops onto the floor and lays back* Well, that was an emotionally draining chapter, I'm just going to take a little cat nap before the next one. Wake me up in a week.
Oh before you go question for you dearest dearie reader: having people on covers do you hate it or love it?
I like having people on covers, I feel like it gives it a factor you can connect to. But I don't like the photo look, instead I like a cartoon, edited, or animated person. When it looks like an Instagram pic I'm not really a fan. Not exactly sure why.
It's funny saying this since you know what my covers look like but if I could have custom made covers for all my books I would have them. Till then I got to work with what I got.
Royal decree: vote, comment, follow!