“Two and a half, but who’s counting? I’m certainly not.” Footsteps walked away from her then something rustled, like rough material rubbing together. His footsteps returned. “I have a small piece of bread from lunch. You can have it, if you’d like? It’s dry and inedible but better than nothing.”
“Don’t you want it? You must have saved it for a reason?”
“My reason just presented itself, now, didn’t it? I had a funny feeling it may come in handy, so I wrapped the piece in my cloak to keep from drying out too much.”
“Thank you, Castien. Right now, I would love your offering, even if it were made of sand.”
“Wow, you must be starving then, but don’t be surprised if it does taste like sand.” A small piece of bread appeared through the hole. Taking the tidbit from his fingers, she stuffed the entire morsel in her mouth, grateful no one had seen her do that. Not very ladylike, but right now, starvation ruled. She slowly chewed, silently agreeing with her new friend. The bread was, indeed, dry. And very stale. She would be lucky if she didn’t choke to death trying to swallow it.
She swallowed and, after a few coughs and hitting herself in the chest, she managed to get the bite down. “That wasn’t so horrible.”
“Liar. I heard the choking. Guards probably did too. Wouldn’t be surprised if they showed up to see if you were still breathing. Surprisingly, they were very gentle when they brought you in. Didn’t throw you on the floor like they did me. You must be special.”
“I’m no one.”
“That’s my line.”
“I wish I had a light,” she said. “I detest the dark. Something from my childhood, I think. I’ve never been able to sleep without a nightlight.”
The pale blue light returned, and she moved closer to the hole in the wall and looked through. The face on the other side was startlingly beautiful. His skin was the color of obsidian and his eyes, a pretty heather green. His hair was unkempt but the most perfect shade of silvery blond she had ever seen. She smiled. “You are quite handsome. Are there many dwarves like you—who like men?”
He shook his head. “Not that I know of. Even if there were, they wouldn’t dare let on. Being gay is a death sentence in Svartheimr, thanks to our mad and totally corrupt king. One who took the throne by force, I might add. We even had to borrow Midgard’s terminology for what we are since we don’t have a word for someone who likes the same sex in our native tongue.”
“Dwarves are actually cousins to elves, so don’t you speak the same language?”
He nodded. “Sort of. Because of our time in slavery to the light, dark, and black elves, over the centuries, we developed a dialect, if you will. Some words changed but mostly, only the pronunciation is different.”
“I’ve always wondered why we’re called elves and you’re not. Where did the dwarf name come from?”
Shrugging, he sat down, the blue light lowering with him. “I have no clue. To me, we’re all the same family. What was in the past needs to stay there. We can’t grow as a people if we don’t learn from what happened and change things so it never happens again, right?”
“Completely. I abhor slavery. Pay a person a livable wage if they would like to work for you. There’s no reason to imprison people to do your bidding. That’s the ideology of tyrants.”
“Yes, but the Nine Worlds are full of such people.”
Her gaze narrowed as she looked at him through the hole, noticing the sad state of his clothing, which was torn and filthy. At first glance, he seemed normal, but as she studied his handsome face, she noticed his sunken cheeks and wide, prominent eyes. Her concern for him grew. Even though they had just met, there was something so refreshing about him. They were destined to be friends. To her, friends were priceless, and she never let anything bad happen to those she cared about. Not if she could help it.
“Castien, how long have you been imprisoned?”
Pursing his lips, he frowned in thought. “About a year now, I believe. I’m surprised they haven’t killed me. We’re on the lowest level of the king’s dungeon, so maybe they forgot I was even here? The same two guards bring me food and drink. I’m polite to them, so maybe they don’t mind me so much compared to the other prisoners who aren’t so nice to deal with.”
A sharpclangechoed down the corridor, followed by the soft treads of boots. Definitely one difference between dwarves and elves. When elves walked, their steps were silent.
“Would you like for me to find out about your friend and why you’re here?” Castien’s voice startled her, and he must have been speaking directly into the hole.
“Yes, but how?”
When he didn’t answer,she peered through the hole and saw his cell door open. A guard stood there, holding what looked like a plate in his hand. Castien leaned in and whispered to him. The guard stared at him a moment before leading her new friend from his cell.
Worried he was about to do something stupid, she paced her tiny enclosure, waiting for his return. Almost an hour passed before he returned, looking a little better than he had before he’d left. His cheeks weren’t quite so concave, and his step seemed lighter.
The moment the door closed behind him, she jumped to the hole in the wall. “Are you okay? Why would you risk yourself like that? You don’t even know me.”
“I do, Shalendra. I pride myself on being a good judge of character, and you, my dear, are a treasure. You speak from the heart and are passionate against the ills of the world. If someone you cared about was in trouble, you would move the heavens and planets to help them. Am I wrong?”
She shook her head. “No, but how do you know all this?”
“From your own words and reactions. I get impressions and sensations from people. Kind of like an empath, but not. My impressions aren’t as clear, but it is how I knew I could trust you with my secret. No one but you and the guard know I’m gay. The poor man is too afraid to admit it out loud, but he is like me and is tortured every day by that knowledge.”