"You'll find out soon enough," said Beetlestone. "Come on."
A cold chill ran down Liam's spine. This couldn't be good.
His loaf in one hand, Liam followed Beetlestone out of the cell and down the hall. The guard captain led him into a large room at the far end.
Obviously Purdun didn't want whoever it was to see how they had been keeping Liam. Though this new room was still a cell, it was much larger and cleaner than the one Liam had just been in, and there were barred windows high up in the walls that let in fresh air. Liam took in a lungful of the stuff. It felt so good.
In the middle of the room, hanging from the ceiling, were at least a dozen sets of shackles. Unlike the chains in his last cell, these didn't allow the prisoners to sit on the ground. Beetlestone gently nudged Liam toward the hanging shackles.
"Left," he said, grabbing at Liam's wrist.
Liam complied, too tired to fight back.
"So, what do you think of our dungeon now?" quipped the captain.
Though the remark was meant to sting, Liam could tell Beetlestone didn't really put his heart in it. His voice was somehow sad, almost apologetic.
When Liam was securely fastened to the ceiling, the captain and his two guards exited the room, leaving the wooden door wide open. Once they were gone, Liam gave the chains a hard tug. They rattled against each other, swaying back and forth, but they held him fast. Letting the chains hold his weight, he leaned forward, holding his arms out to his sides. Up on his tiptoes, he twisted to one side then the other, feeling a little bit like a child on a playground. His mind had wandered for days on end, and now he finally had some light and something to play with. If he was going to be held against his will, at least he could entertain himself.
Standing up straight, he broke another piece off the loaf of bread and stuffed it in his mouth. Though it wasn't very pleasing, it did satisfy his grumbling stomach.
From down the hall Liam heard footsteps. Then two people appeared in the door.
"Gods. Look at you, Liam."
Liam lowered his head. He had expected some sort of interrogator, someone who would try to coax information out of him now that he'd had some time to suffer in the dungeon. He didn't expect this.
"Hello, Mother."
Angeline came running into the room only to stop several steps before her son. "Are you all right?"
Liam looked at himself. His clothes were filthy. He smelled, and he was slouched from having spent the last few days sleeping on a stone floor. "What do you think?"
Angeline put her hand to her mouth, and tears welled up in her eyes.
Liam instantly regretted his gruff response. "I'm fine. A little worse for the wear, but I'll live."
"That's what you get for being involved with those Awl," said Douglas.
Liam looked up at his father. "Now that I'm chained up you've come to finish that fight, pop?"
"Stop it," interjected Angeline. "Both of you." She looked at Douglas then turned and put her hands on Liam's shoulders, trying to calm the situation.
Liam glared over her at his father. He hated the man. He'd never had the courage to even think that before. In his exhaustion, he'd lost his inhibitions, his fears over the consequences of having such thoughts. He had been afraid of what the other farmers in Duhlnarim would think about him if they knew his secret feelings for the man who had brought him into the world. But sitting for more than a tenday in a stone-walled dungeon had given him plenty of time to fear much larger things. He had very little left to lose, and this man no longer scared him.
"Then why did you come?" he asked, not lowering his eyes.
"One of Purdun's guardsmen came and asked us to," replied the old man, staring back at Liam, a look of disgust on his face.
"We came because we were worried about you," interjected his mother. "You just disappeared. We didn't know where you were. We thought maybe you'd been killed on one of those stupid raids, like Ryder."
The sound of his brother's name made Liam break his staring contest with his father. He took a step back from his mother.
"Ryder died fighting for what he believed in," he said, not raising his voice. It hurt him to hear her belittle Ryder's sacrifice. "You both are just too stupid or thoughtless to recognize that."
"Oh, Liam." Angeline began to cry.
Douglas put his arm around her. "See what you did?" he shouted.
Liam looked at them both. He was tired of feeling sorry for them. "What do you want from me? Why did you come here?"
"We just came," said Angeline, trying to hold back a sob, "to try to talk some sense into you."
"Well," said Liam, holding his arms out to make the chains shake, "I'm a captive audience. Talk all you like." He leaned back, falling backward until the chains caught him, holding him off the ground by his wrists.
Liam hung there, his head resting back, his eyes closed, smiling to himself. He'd never been able to tell his folks off like that. There was no guilt, no fear of reprisal, none of the feelings he'd had when getting in a fight with his parents as a child. His captivity had changed him. The chains of the dungeon had set him free. Despite the aches in his bones, and the weakness from lack of sleep, Liam was stronger now, and it felt great.
He leaned farther back, stretching the tired muscles in his neck. Then he lifted his head. He wanted to see the look on Douglas's face. Opening his eyes, he looked up at Samira. Both Douglas and Angeline were gone.
"Hi," said Samira, a reserved smile on her face.
Liam stood up, suddenly feeling ashamed of his appearance. "What are you doing here?" He blushed, his sense of triumph transformed into flustered insecurity.
"I mean, hi."
"Oh, look at you," she said, stepping up and taking hold of his face.
Where she touched him, it stung, and he pulled back. Putting his own hand to his face, he felt a long fresh scratch, complete with dried blood, running across his right cheek.
"Where did that come from?" he asked.
"I was hoping you'd know that."
Liam shrugged. "Must have been the rats."
The smile on Samira's face dissolved into a look of disgust. "Rats?"
Liam nodded. "In my cell."
Samira scanned the floor.
Liam shook his head. "Not here. They had me in another cell before you came." He looked around. "One about a third of this size. No windows. Kind of damp."
Samira put her hands on his cheeks and turned his face to hers. "What are you doing this for?"
"Doing what?"
"Putting yourself through this," she said.
"What choice do I have?" replied Liam. "I didn't ask for this."
"If I ask you a question," she said, letting go of his face, "will you answer me honestly?"
"Of course."
"Did you try to attack Lord Purdun in his own chambers?"
Liam smiled. "You heard that, did you?"
Samira nodded. "Is it true?"
"Yes," he said. "Twice."
"Twice?" Samira's voice rose as she said the word. She put her hand over her mouth, as if embarrassed of her outburst. In a more hushed tone, she said, "Really?"
He nodded, still smiling. The thought of how bold and truly stupid that was made him warm inside. Oddly, he was proud of himself for being so foolish.
Samira covered the smile on her mouth, but Liam could see in her eyes that she too was amused by his brash behavior.
"Ryder would have been proud of you," she said.
Liam nodded his agreement. "Yes, I think he probably would have been."
"But he also wouldn't want to see you like this." She grabbed hold of his filthy, tattered shirt and gave it a tug.