Bloodless Knights by Melissa Lynn Strasburg

openings anywhere except one small window at the top of the room. In a way I
was proud my father had built such a sound dungeon but that thought was quelled
by the frustration that I was a captive in the admirable prison.
    This
wasn’t my initial unlucky time serving as prisoner. The first time I was
arrested had been at the small city of Surgaton. I was a prisoner of war that
the general thought would earn a handsome ransom for; he apparently didn’t know
my father had left me there to rot. My escape route was a crazy, but lustful,
princess who thought I would propose to her if she released me. Like I said,
she was crazy. With a slight kiss on her puffy cheek as a grammarcy, I
disappeared from the gluttonous city as soon as the homely lady unlocked the
door.
    My
second incarceration was at the castle of Bingstown. I was, yet again, a
prisoner kidnapped from the battlefield, expected to earn ransom upon my safe
return to the homeland. The escape from that decaying hole was mere luck. My
platoon simply crushed through the side of the cell wall with a battle ram. The
men didn’t know I was in the castle and were literally inches from smashing me
to death. However, as soon as the ram knocked down the wall, I leapt through it
with my hands waving in the air. The astonished men were happy to see me.
    Never
before had I wanted out of a cell as desperately as I did this one. I had to
get to Vivian or I feared I may lose her forever. I reminded myself again that
I had no idea where she was from. I smudged the thought that I may never leave
the cell from my brain. I had to get out!
    I
sat on the floor, not wanting to feel defeat. It just wasn’t in me to give up.
I did, however, worry that this time my father had me beaten. I went from
second in command of his pathetic, emaciated army to being a prisoner in his
jail. He was probably ecstatic as he painted a dark-haired angel, who “didn’t”
look like him, smiling with a shiny pair of chains around his wrists.
    “Hello?”
I heard a small voice whisper from beneath the cell. That couldn’t be right;
there was nothing under the dungeon. I stayed still in case my imagination had
me hearing things.
    “Sir
Tristen?” The voice was unmistakable this time. I believed it came from the pot
that protruded awkwardly in the corner. Oh great, I really was losing my mind
this time: a talking privy. I shook my head knowing what I had to do next but
not believing I was really going to do it. I peeked into the pisser and said,
“Hello?”
    “My
Lord, it’s me Jadorion!” A familiar voice came from a dank, smelly hole.
    I
closed my eyes, shook my head and tried to hold my breath while saying, “Art
thou really in the pot, Jad?”
    Silence
filled the hole then, “Well…aye, so don’t send anything down right now, sir.
Friar Thespis sent me in the sewer to tell ye that he’s going to get ye out of
there so don’t do nuthin’ stupid or nutty like gettin’ killed or worse.”
    I
smiled into the bowl as I pictured Jadorion’s innocent face in the dark. “Jad,
thou art very brave to do this but I must bid ye, what is worse than getting
killed?”
    “Well,
like tortured and stuff. That’s shorn worse than just gettin’ stabbed in the
heart and bein’ done with it fer good!” I could tell by the tone in his voice
that if he could see me, he would surely be looking at me as if I was a fool
for not knowing the knowledge he just imparted. I laughed a bit.
    “Jad,
please hurry and leave the sewer. I need ye to do me a favor. Will thou do
something important for me?” I crossed my fingers then looked to the ceiling as
if it was heaven.
    “Anything,”
was his simple reply.
    I
hoped what I said got through to him and he could do it without a problem. The
rest of my life was riding on the important message I laid in his hands to
deliver. “There’s a clearing of trees just north of the Lists. I need thee to
go there directly at dusk. There will be a lady there. Tell her I’ve