The Commander a Prisoner

A pained screech of iron on iron and a ray of blinding light announced his visitor. The bars of his cell sliced through the light that was flooding the cold chamber. The musty smell of his cot reminded him that he was still a prisoner of the thane and his family. Three men clad in mail had entered with a couple of lanterns. The prisoner could only see the dark silhouette of these men, but he knew two of these men were the servants of his captor from their gait and the sound of their breathing.
“Leave us be,” said the man in the center. The voice was oddly familiar and the prisoner felt a pang of nostalgia hearing it. “If I need you, I will call.”
The two other men bowed their heads and left, leaving one of the lanterns on a stool outside of cell.
“You don’t look well, Captain. Why in the devil did you think it wise to come back to Rohan? Do you fancy the justice of the Thane?”
“Lothair?,” the prisoner spoke. He choked on the word. It had been weeks since he had spoken.
“Aye, your loyal friend and Sergeant. Though you left me without employment, sir. I fight for other men now.” Lothair walked to the table in the far corner of the room.”I see they have left plenty of water and food just out of your grasp. Here, allow me.”
Lothair poured the prisoner a cup of water from a large earthen pitcher and offered it to him.”Why come back?”
The prisoner quaffed the water and exhaled a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Lothair,” he gasped. “Not the question I expected.”
“You expected me to ask why you left?” Lothair laughed,”No, that is ancient history. You no longer had roots to hold you to these lands. I am sorry about what happened to Branwen and your…”
“Enough, Lothair”
“I know this isn’t your first time back, Captain. Or should I say Commander? Your friends from the West call you that.”
“The Company,” the prisoner muttered to himself. He wondered if they had moved on or were planning some scheme to free him. He shook his head and returned to the conversation, “They can manage without me. They are all stronger than they seem.”
“No doubt of that, Captain.” Lothair laughed. “Now why did you leave with a daughter of the Thane back to Dale? Did you not think the Thane would be cross?”
“I brought her back-”
“After she died, Captain.” Lothair refilled the cup. “The Thane is not at all pleased. When he hears of this…”
“He does not know I am hear?” the prisoner interrupted.
“No, not yet. He does not attend to many of his duties these days.”
“Then why am I here?” The prisoner’s voice echoed violently in the chamber.
“The King does not want foreign soldiers marching through his lands. He is more suspicious of outlanders than usual as of late. And so when a bunch of armed westerners come walking in our lands, led by, mind you, a warrior wearing elven armor… well, then somebody had to be brought in to our cells.”
The prisoner sat back in disbelief. “Then it is by mere chance that it was me who you found. I am not wanted for-”
“For the kidnapping and killing of your wife? No” Lothair brought the lantern closer to cell. His face was far older than the prisoner expected, as if the river of time had cut through his face with weary. “No, dear Captain. You are here under much different circumstances, but I am afraid there is still a bounty, albeit unofficial bounty, on your head. The Thane does not even know you are here. He is too busy dying from his injuries.”
“Injuries?” The prisoner’s voice sounded of deep concern and empathy.”Was he in battle?”
“If only, Captain. He fell from his horse and was trampled upon his host. A horrible accident it would seem. What is this? I thought you would be relieved. With the death of the Thane, the bounty goes away, Captain.”
“Lothair, I take no pleasure in hearing about the Thane. To be truthful, I had hoped that he would see me.”
The prisoner’s visitor guffawed.”Are you mad? He would only want to see you driven before him and your body dragged across the Norcrofts by his fastest horses.”
“Lothair, I need to see him.”
The visitor jumped to his feet and tossed the pitcher angrily against the wall. The pitcher shattered and the mist of water touched the prisoner’s forehead reminding him of spray from the Lake on a windy day. “Damned Dale-man, I know what you are going to ask and don’t you dare.”
“Sergeant,” the prisoner’s voice was now calm yet stern. “I need you to take me to him.”
The man paced outside of the cell, visibly upset.He turned his back to the prisoner and raised his hand at the sound of another plea.
“Very well, Altheric.” Lothair said after a long silence. “I will find a way.”