There was little sleep to be had. The overnight guards' voices, the shuffling of boots passing her cell, the occasional lecherous whisper of the other prisoners, all served to deny her any slumber.
Even if the place had been utterly silent, sleep would've been unlikely. She knew her beloved was outside. He'd come in, asking for her whereabouts, arguing with the Watch for her release, offering bail, anything he could think of. It hadn't worked. He'd been forced out with the combined muscle of half a dozen guards. She knew he wouldn't leave and go home without her. He'd be somewhere nearby, perhaps at the Pony, drowning his frustrations, or finding a few of their mutual friends to relate his story to.
Was Aallan, even now, being taken into custody? She kept glancing at the door, half-expecting to see him being dragged in. Béma forgive her, how she hated his father! He'd been needling the Watch against his son for days, and had dragged her own name through the mud in his attempts to find Aallan. She'd told them his whereabouts, albeit very reluctantly. There'd been no point in hiding it any longer, since Richard himself knew. Adalbart had asked her about the murder...she had skirted around the truth, and to his credit, he hadn't pressed her to say more. She'd felt certain they were about to release her, when Richard - that blaggard, that fiend - decided to pour more venom into Adalbart's ear, muttering that she couldn't be trusted not to run and tell others of their search for Aallan. She swore she wouldn't, and she'd meant it. She was no liar. But there was no one there to vouch for her, no one to speak for her character, and Adalbart had laid down his decision; into a cell she would go.
All she could do now was pray. For Aallan's safety, whether he hid, fled, or fell into the Watch's grasp.
She could still hear the screams of poor, little Amanda. The angry shouts of Dryn. The child had burst into the back office of the jailhouse, eliciting angry reprimands from Adalbart. She'd clung to Brynleigh, who was already in tears, and they'd been forced to lay hands on the girl and drag her outside, kicking and screaming, quite literally. Brynleigh had been stunned to see Corrben suddenly enter the room, a face she'd not glimpsed in untold months. He was gentler of voice and demeanor than his older counterpart, but still held a quiet solemnity. The jailhouse had become a den of mayhem for several minutes, as the guards tried to usher Amanda out without doing her any harm, and from the sounds that reached Brynleigh's ears, the girl had fought tooth and nail, mingled with more angry yelling from Dryn on her behalf.
Brynleigh had been led to a cell then, quaking and frightened. Other prisoners took notice of her, leering at her, she felt their eyes on her as she walked past. Adalbart spoke as gently as he could manage, but she could find no voice to reply, accepting her fate in silence.
After Adalbart and Richard had departed, taking most of the guards with them in their pursuit of Aallan, a woman had appeared. She and Brynleigh had regarded each other for a moment, curious and questioning, before the woman approached and gently spoke her name. Brynleigh had been quietly surprised, asking how the woman knew who she was. The woman crouched before the cell, where Brynleigh sat crumpled against the bars, and had offered her name as Aggy. Aggy had extended a hand comfortingly towards her, and she'd taken it, so moved by the woman's kindness that it hadn't seemed an odd gesture at all. Aggy was there to speak with Adalbart, and had been overlooked in all the chaos, and was now locked inside until they returned. She and Brynleigh spoke for a time, and the latter found great comfort in this enigmatic new friend, brief though their interaction was.
Some time later, Corrben returned with a new charge. She was shocked to see Kris, the masked man who kept close to Gwaed, being brought in. He boldly shouted across the jailhouse to Bryn several times, accusing the Watch of wrongfully keeping her, and casting audacious insults to the guards. Why had he been arrested? Had the whole town gone mad this night?
Quiet fell again, though the hour was untellably late. She sat on the stiff cot, facing the wall. A guard brought her food, and extra blankets, and she was grateful, knowing that Adalbart took no pleasure in her captivity, and wished to soften the blow. But there was no sleep to be found. Not while her beloved sat outside in the darkness, and one of her dearest friends had his life on the line, and others were worried and fretting for her sake. She would not sleep.
