That Not Your Trespass but My Madness Speaks

"Oh, my head." Galen opened his eyes to the light of a strange room. He was lying flat on a strange bed, and the back of his head pounded with pain.

The last thing he remembered was arriving at Courtside and being on his horse looking at what he had assumed was the makeshift hospital building that Hemele had spoken of before they set off. The next thing he knew, he was lying on this bed with his pain. He concluded, obviously, that he had been hit on the head to unconsciousness and dropped off here. He could only imagine what false pretenses that he was admitted under. He was entering this situation at a strong disadvantage, so he would have to be quick to utilize everything he could in himself to turn that around.

There were no other beds in this room, just his. The room itself was very small and could only accommodate one person's living comfortably. The only light came from a single window too high to reach or even see out of except the sky. Nothing else adorned the simple room. There were no chairs, no tables, no furnishings or ornaments. There was only the bed and a single pot. Galen was not thrilled about what was clearly resembling a prison the more he studied it, and it was familiar to him.

He sat in silence for over an hour. He could tell by the heat of the sun that it was coming onto mid-morning, so he had been unconscious for some time. He tried not to dwell on the anger he felt towards these men who had done this to him and, even worse, had done what they had done to Althea. Instead, he focused on her. He meditated and drew from her strength, her bravery, and her resilience in the face of adversity. He knew that, with her help even so far away and her inspiration, he would find the right way out of this.

When the door did start to open, a small-framed girl who looked barely the age of a woman came in with a pitcher and a loaf of bread. She was at least a full head, if not more, shorter than he was with large, innocent-looking eyes and straight black hair. She entered the room timidly. Galen noticed her shoulders arched into her neck with high tension and her steps small and the objects in her hand held close to her body. She was afraid, yet she was brave. What was she afraid of?

In an attempt to per her at ease, Galen spoke out to her in his soft, naturally comforting voice. "Good morning." His dulcet tones reached her ears, and her eyes lit in what seemed like surprise. She relaxed her tension only a small amount, but nodded to him at his words and smiled somewhat.

They simply looked at each other not knowing what to do or say next for what seemed like an eternity, though in reality it was only a minute or so. Galen felt the pressure to continue to put her at ease as she just stood there looking at him almost as if she were inspecting him. He reached out his hand to her very slowly, "Are those for me? I could use some water, if that's alright."

At that she seemed to realize again her purpose in coming and blushed a bit in embarrassment as if she had lingered too long. She set down the pitcher of water and the loaf of bread on the floor before him and quickly retreated backwards with her back to the door and facing Galen. Her movements reminded Galen of a rabbit or timid fawn so reluctant to trust and inherently cautious. But he knew how to deal with traits like that.

He bent down to the water and drank deep from the pitcher. The water felt so good, and he drank about half of the pitcher. He put it down afterwards and worried that he wasn't going to be getting more than that pitcher for the day; perhaps he should have rationed. He wasn't sure if he was being held as a prisoner here for some crime or something else. He looked at her again then, and she still held an innocently inquisitive look. Galen smiled as warmly as he could to her in an attempt to ease her mind. "Thank you very much. That water was very much needed."

Still she said nothing, but at least then she smiled brighter. The sound of his voice began to both put her at ease and seemingly confused her. But with the smile she gave, he felt that at least he was getting through to her.

A shadow crossed into the room then from the high window that made her jump for just a second. They both looked up and saw a crow sitting on the ledge into the room. Before Galen could move towards the bird at all, he noticed her smile a warm and familiar smile. She placed her hand into a pocket of her skirt and pull out a handful of something. She took one step towards the window and knelt to the ground depositing what appeared to be breadcrumbs from her hand onto the floor. Then she backed away again.

The bird simply looked at the gift from his perch, tilted his head towards the sky, reangled himself with a jump, and then flew away with a cry. Galen looked at his companion thinking her innocent eyes might show terrible disappointment, but she just seemed to shrug then and smiled a half smile as if she knew her offering only worked every now and then.

"My name is Galen, and I appreciate your kindness here. May I ask your name?" The melody of his voice at first made her smile as she closed her eyes to listen to it. However, her face darkened when she heard his question. She gave no response, just a frightened look. "I'm sorry," he replied at her reaction. "Did I say something wrong? I don't mean to be rude or intrusive. I just want to know your name to thank you for your help."

He saw her hands feel the door at her back and move toward the handle as she smiled at him an obviously forced smile. Galen could tell she was moving to leave then, and he had so much he wanted to ask and find out. He reached out his hand and used as much of his comforting charm as he possibly could to try and keep her there. "Wait, please. I'm sorry. Please! I didn't mean to scare or offend you. I need help."

With his last words she smiled and gave a knowing nod. She quickly opened the door and hurried out of the room. He could hear a latch being bolted, and he knew that he was trapped in that room.

In that moment, Galen fought hard against the crushing disappointment. He didn't have time for playful and infuriating mysteries. He had to get out of there and find some way to help Althea. The more he thought about the situation and what the guards had done, the more he knew that she was in danger. If he could find some way to help, he knew he had to do it no matter what it was. But here he was in a familiar barren room locked away without even an accessible window to escape out of. Even if he learned to climb the wall to reach it, it wasn't even larger than his head. He thought then that he could maybe try to break the door down, but what good would that do? He didn't even know where he was, where he would go, or what the people in this building would do to someone who showed such aggression escaping out of a room like this.

He sat on the floor then with his legs crossed. He stared at the bread and hadn't the heart to even pick it up off the floor, much less eat it. He bent his head down, closed his eyes, and thought again of Althea. The sight of her collapsing body into the arms of the man who drugged her played over and over again, and his fists clenched harder in his vexation.

Then a fluttering sound above him and then soon near him brought him out of his meditation. The crow had returned and was pecking at the offering left by the girl. After a few pecks the crow looked around the room, saw only Galen, and seemed to take a hop closer. He reached out his hand to the bird and said, "Don't be afraid. It's just you and me." His voice wafted to the bird like a spell, his gift in action, and the bird flapped once to fly up and rested on his offered hand.

The two regarded each other for a long time. Seemingly having that inexplicable connection that only Leporems could have and understand. The warmth of the sun increased the heat in the room making it uncomfortable. But the connection was kept even as both of them became increasingly uncomfortable with the heat.

Finally, Galen's posture relaxed, and the crow flew away out of the room through the high window. Galen stood up and turned to the bed and paused. His thoughts were still wrestling with so much of the unknown, but at least now, with the help of the crow, he knew a little more about the woman who was caring for him in this place. He laid down then and stared at the ceiling deciding to sleep away the heat and pain in his head until the next move was made.

"So, she's a mute..." he said as he closed his eyes.

…............

Upon waking, Galen was surprised to see that the light in the room was changed to shades of deep orange and red. It was obviously now just before nightfall. He had slept most of the day away, and he was grateful for that. His head still hurt, though with the rest, it wasn't as bad as before. And now the heat was starting to dissipate, so he wasn't conscious to try and suffer through it. Though he registered his hunger, he was more concerned about the feeling that he was not alone in the room anymore.

He looked around him and saw a figure standing in the corner of the room along the same wall as the door. He recognized Hemele right away with his arms crossed and one leg bent with his foot resting behind him on the wall. He made a good effort to appear superiorly nonchalant, almost as if he was inconvenienced having to take his time out to visit this man.

Galen didn't want to play the game with him of moves and countermoves. He wasn't going to draw out the silence dramatically. "The hit on the head wasn't necessary, you know."

Hemele's expression changed from holding in reserve his thoughts to an impressed smile and nod. He had to admit to himself that this man was brave and even had a sense of humor. But he didn't respond right away; he just put his foot down and squared his stance more.

"Where is she?" Galen asked in a more serious tone.

"I told you before where we were taking her."

"And you're ok with that?" Galen was holding back a flood of resentment and not too successfully.

Then Hemele took a step closer to him. "Why shouldn't I be?" This he asked not in jest or in any trivial intent. Hemele's question was actually genuine.

Galen actually registered the change in his tone. He thought carefully on how best to approach this as he still didn't trust Hemele or any of his men in the least. They were the type to follow orders strictly and simply. No amount of his words was going to register to him much less change his mind about his charge. Galen finally decided that if this man hadn't snapped to what was wrong with this situation, he wasn't about to now no matter what manner of persuasion he used.

So, Galen decided to change the subject. "I appreciate you getting me to a hospital and providing me the need to be seen in one," he added harshly, "but I'd rather leave now. I can tell that is only going to happen with your permission given the nature of the locked door all day."

Hemele resumed his laid-back posture then as he recognized he once again held the upper hand. "That will depend a lot on you, I think."

"I kind of figured."

Hemele knew that this man wasn't an idiot. In fact, he was dealing with a highly perceptive individual. The way he was carrying himself, he seemed to be used to manipulation or at the very least expected it now. "What would you do," Hemele asked slowly, "if I were to let you out of here? I mean, I take it you are a long way from home. Can we be any assistance to you in getting you there?"

"Oh, I appreciate your offer," Galen lied as he matched Hemele's false tone. "Unfortunately, all of this business has left my home town pretty much abandoned. I have no home to go back to." Galen continued to look into Hemele's eyes with a conviction that his determination wouldn't be diminished no matter how hard the man may push against hit.

Hemele decided not to try and be passive any more. He found he respected this man, and he wasn't about to insult him with false niceties. "Let's not waste any more time then."

"Yes, and thank you."

"I have my orders, and you are about to complicate them."

"I can promise you that I don't willfully intend to be complicated," Galen responded genuinely. Hemele even believed his sincerity.

"Regardless of your intent, the fact is going to remain that your very presence and existence is going to complicate things." Hemele decided to sit on the bed opposite of Galen. He wished he would have thought to bring in a chair, but this would work. He wanted to appeal to Galen and make this as easy as possible for both of them, but he could see where the complications could be as well.

"Complicate things for who, exactly? For Durai?" Galen took the risk of showing his knowledge, and he noticed Hemele register his words with surprise.

"Among other people. Not the least of which being your friend. I have my orders that, for Althea's protection, she is to be reported as found dead. As I understand, this is to protect her. But you know that her death isn't true. And thus, you see my problem."

Galen couldn't respond for the shock that he felt at the directive that had just been explained to him. What was he going to do?

"My God, man. Protect her from who?"

Hemele rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. "Wasn't my place to ask. Isn't my place to ask. But I imagine in order to protect her from any number of things. The Queen's anger, the people who took her in the first place, the people who might panic if her powers to stop this don't work. It could result in mass chaos, I should think, if it was known that a Healer was found and she couldn't deliver in the end.���

Galen looked intently at the man sitting next to him. Galen wasn't sure if Hemele himself was convinced of his own regurgitated reasoning or not. He kept himself reserved and was so hard to read. Galen was at a loss as to what to try. How can you fight against a believer?

But then Hemele looked at Galen, and the look was an incredibly subtle call for help. He wanted Galen to challenge it. It was like he needed to know the other argument. Galen returned the look confused and almost afraid. Hemele's eyes remained persistent.

Galen took a deep breath first, and then he said, "Have you spoken with her? How does she feel about being pronounced dead?"

Hemele looked down in resignation. Of course he would ask that, and of course he had to answer shamefully, "I have not had any contact with her outside of what you saw. My mission was to get her safely to Durai. Durai, by the way, was the one that kept pressing to continue the search for her long after it was called off by the Queen. I have no doubt he cares deeply for her and will keep her safe."

Galen then felt pity for this man and his unwavering faith is someone who was using him. "Did those orders include to drug her?"

Hemele dropped his aggressive tone as if he was a small child being reprimanded by a parent, "Yes," he admitted shamefully. "Yes, it did."

"I kind of figured, sir. You don't seem the type to have your own drugs on hand for poisoning young women into submission."

Hemele felt anger rise in him at this. How dare this man speak to him in such a manner about his orders, which he followed with the honor afforded those who follow through with their duties? He couldn't imagine what made this man so brave in his impertinence. Yet, at the same time, nothing he said was a lie. Nothing he said was wrong. But did that mean something about his orders were wrong? Was he wrong?

They couldn't both be right.

Hemele didn't like this feeling. He didn't like the thought of following orders and being in the wrong. He did his duty; he upheld his honor. Then why was he feeling this way? What was it about this man that made Hemele even engage in this dialogue? His frustration turned to anger, and as he felt his limits being reached, he stood to go.

He reached the door and looked back at Galen. "Obviously you see the problem. You pose a threat to this secret that I have been sworn to uphold. I'll leave you here another day. Let's just make sure that you understand the situation clearly. You know where you are, right? You know what this is?"

"Yeah, I know." Galen had long figured out that he was in a room all too familiar to him given his mother. The high windows, the lack of furnishings, the thick, heavy walls and doors were to keep locked away people who had gone mad. Obviously Hemele registered him as a lunatic who was prone to lies and elaborate fantasies. Anything he would say to anyone wouldn't be trusted then. He was even given a woman to attend him that was mute and wouldn't be able to tell his story even if he somehow managed to convince her.

Galen had to admit it was well played.

Hemele had no doubt that a man as clever as this understood all that had been implied. He nodded and left Galen alone in his cage.

Still, Hemele thought as he closed the door and latched it behind him, there was something that wasn't quite right. He didn't want to admit it, but Galen said some things that rang true to him. How it made him feel aside, he couldn't shake the impending ramifications if this man were right. Perhaps he would talk with Jian about it at the fire tonight.