An Oath Forgotten: Chapter 1

Why would he come for me? He was only an old maester? And a women...

"True," came the women’s voice. "Any farther down would be torturous; it’s bad enough where we are now."

The voices became loudest right in front of the door. Aaron stood as straight as he could.

"How long should we leave him down here?" the man spoke again and something moaned.

"Until he confesses," the women replied.

"Confesses?" Aaron whispered. "Has some new charge come to me while I’ve been here?" he was confused.

"Turnkey hurry it!" the women shrieked, "Pick him up! If I dirty myself down here you’ll find yourself managing one of these cells from the inside."

"Yes, m’lady," replied the turnkey. The dragging stopped. The torched had passed and so had their shadows. They had not come for Aaron.

"Don’t you just adore courtesies?" the women said.

"I have not had the pleasure to know them," the man with her replied respectfully.

Aaron figured they threw the new prisoner into the cell at the end of the hall. Aaron’s was last along the wall before the end. "Throw him in," the women commanded. Aaron heard the prisoner’s bones crashing the ground. The man began to whimper. Aaron listened to the door slam, and the key turn. Aaron was almost glad he was not alone now.

Aaron heard women jump at something. "Come let us leave before we are eaten!" she said losing patience.

"By a rat or a prisoner," the old man jested.

No. Not Old Salomon, Aaron figured.

"By both," the women snapped. "Turnkey, keep up with that torch,"

"Yes, yes," the stupid oaf replied. The oaf’s feet splashed through the puddles on the floor as he skipped to keep pace.

The voices that at first took forever to reach him, faded quickly. The light under his door was gone, but for how long...

"No..." Aaron was alone again. He fell over, and he felt the walls to find a corner. What have I done to deserve being here? Remaining true is a crime, Aaron learned finally. He at last understood politics.

"I need food," Aaron was crying, "Please, what am I doing here?" Aaron yelled with little strength he gained from frustration. His voice echoed back and forth in his hollow cell.

Ahhhhh... the new prisoner cried along. Owwww, ah, ahhhhhh, the man continued on. The moaning went all night, or morning and Aaron put his head into his hands and fell asleep to it.

He was alone in darkness; even his dreams provided no escape, but then something happened. Aaron felt the floor beneath him; it was soft with goose feathers. "What is this?" he felt the walls too, but they were hard, wet, and stone. Through the darkness he could see he was no longer in his cell. It was his chamber. Only everything of his was not in it. Hinges creaked as two huge oak door swung open. In rushed three people. Two of them were men and one woman. None of them had he ever known. All of the sudden the room was lit with torches that hung on the walls. Two of the guests carried with them, a box. The first person was a short, bald, man with spots covering his bare head. His box was golden, and when he lifted the lid inside was a small dagger, "Take this. Make it bloody." Aaron looked at the man questioningly. The old man stepped aside, and behind him stepped forward the other man. He was younger. Half of forty Aaron guessed, with brown hair. He came with a smile, and opened his bronze box, "Here you are," the man said. Inside was a rope. "Make it quick," the man smiled.