Chapter Four: Inevitable

Time dragged on endlessly for Orwen. He had no way of sensing how fast or slow it was passing. He only knew that one day had ended and another had arrived when a servant brought a trough of bread crumbs and a tin cup of water to his cell. The gnawing hunger he constantly felt was barely even touched by this small meal. And his thirst was tortuous. He tried to sleep when he could, but only escaped his living nightmare to plunge into various other nightmares of his imaginings. He wondered if Jansen had tried to visit and been turned away. Would anyone even know if he died in this dark place? And even if he was missed by Jansen, Thoreau was too powerful for his younger brother to touch. In fact, Jansen might also be in grave danger since neither he nor Orwen had ever thought to doubt their Uncle's intentions.

Orwen thought of his parents, lost to a plague when he was very young and Jansen only an infant. In a world of politics and instability he had been happy to know that his father's only brother was so powerful and wise--fully capable of offering Orwen and Jansen a secure and happy life until they were old enough to take responsibility for themselves. How wrong he had been to trust a man he knew so little about! Why had his father not made a will? Their old steward, overwhelmed by the sudden demands upon him to resolve the estate and inheritance, had agreed quickly with Thoreau's offer to handle everything.

"So why now?" Orwen thought aloud. "Our entire childhood was spent here. Why did he wait to attack us until this late hour?"

Something must have happened. But Orwen, who had never been required to think much outside of his own daily sphere, was unaware of anything politically or financially different occuringg. He suddenly realized that the country could have been at war he might not have known it, he was that oblivious.

With a sigh, Orwen tried to silence the questions and whirling strings of thought that plagued him. Sleep overtook him.