Only the thinnest rays of light filtered through the steel bars that caged Jonrah and his new ally, Murdul.
Jonrah was able to see that he had dark hair, flecked with thin silver strands which matched the stubble on his well chiseled chin.
His eyes were a watery blue, almost grey, similar to those of only one other person Jonrah knew, that person being Lorda.
'How're you feeling, Jonrah?' Murdul asked, his husky voice sending a shiver through Jonrah's spine, but at the same time comforting him.
Releasing a cough, Jonrah replied, 'Better.'
'Good,' came the reply.
The eye contact between them only lasted a second, before Murdul was on his feet and at the metal gate, looking from side to side. Jonrah slowly got to his feet, letting the pain fill his body as it had done before.
He limped to the small wooden bench opposite the door and sat down next to the wall, examining his left foot and seeing the crisp flakes of dried blood were embedded into his shoe.
Putting his dirty hand to his neck was a bad idea. The grit from the floor caused a horrible stinging to radiate through his neck, causing Jonrah to whince in pain, clenching his teeth as he did. There was no more blood, and Jonrah wasn't feeling quite so dizzy any more, but he was quite wary of making the wounds worse, either by infection or increasing the size of the incision.
To take his mind off the pain, he looked to where Murdul was standing, dangling his arms out of the bars, looking still from left to right.
'How long have you been here?' Jonrah broke the silence.
Without looking back at him, Murdul answered, 'About a week.'
Murdul was obviously not too keen on answering questions, so Jonrah remained silent, instead thinking about Lorda, and what he might be doing right now, either to flee the plains or to free Jonrah.
The silence, however, really got to Jonrah, and so he asked another question. 'Why were you captured? I mean, what did you do?'
A slight hesitation was noticeable, until Murdul answered, this time looking round over his shoulder to Jonrah. 'I resisted.'
Resisted the uprise of the East? Resisted their propaganda, their violence? Resisted capture or enslavement?
'My youngest son fell into the trap of believing that The Eden had something to offer other than violence and hate. He believed that by rising against the West, he could avenge the death of his mother, my wife.' Murdul turned to face Jonrah, now. 'He was made the leader of a faction intent on bringing down one of the Western kingdoms. Litana. As a Westerner, you've probably heard of it.'
Jonrah froze, shocked. The man that had kidnapped his son, the arsonist that had taken Jodar from his father... His name had been Gurden. He had been the leader of the Litana faction of The Eden.
This man was the father of Gurden, a member of the Eden.
Lorda had said that he was Gurden's brother.
This man, Murdul... Could he really be Lorda's father?
Murdul had obviously thought nothing of Jonrah's stunned silence, for he continued. 'I am a member of The Fall. We fight against The Eden in any way possible. I intend to bring my son's senses back to him. What he and his fellow Easterners are doing is wrong. They have been tricked into believing that this is the right path for justice.'
Murdul had said all he meant to, and looked back through the bars of the prison cell. Right, left, right, left.
Jonrah sat in silence until his ears started ringing.
'Your son's name was Gurden, you say?'
'Yes,' Murdul replied.
'Then what does the name Lorda mean to you?'