Book V: Chapter 1| De Consolatione

Alexander struggled against the guards before being thrown into the cage.

“Get in there, you troublemaker, fshh nya!” one guard snarled.

The other barked, “Grya! Stop struggling or I’ll make it worse, nya!”

As they closed the door, one muttered, “Ne… the commander doesn’t pay us enough for this, nya. I’d like to see him do it himself for once, nya.”

“Yeah, well, maybe then he won’t give us that raise he promised, neeya.”

“That raise? He’s never gonna give us that raise, nyaaa. He probably already spent it, ne.”

“Yeah. Probably tell us we’re not doing enough, nya.”

They grumbled, then turned to the prisoners.

“Grya! All of you elves in the cage, shut up, fshh! We finally got the rest of these dogs to quiet down, nya. Don’t you rile them up again, fshhh!”

The elves were stripped down and locked together in a single cage.

Alexander rushed back at the bars, pulling at them.

Regulus, sitting in the corner, told him, “Knock it off. You’re not doing anything helpful.”

One of the cat guards came up with a spear and jabbed Alexander in the stomach with the butt of his spear.

“I said knock it off, fshh nya!”

The cat turned to the rest of the prisoners.
“Be good and quiet, nya, or else I’ll forget to feed you, fshh. If you’re good, maybe I’ll remember, nyan.”

Barbara sat in the corner, feeling sorry for herself. She looked at the others.

Castra and Pollux sat side by side, tending to each other’s wounds. Castra plucked straw from Pollux’s hair.

Alexander paced angrily.

Regulus sat quietly, watching and observing.

Arachne also paced, unable to keep her focus.

Marcus stood at the back, head bowed, hands behind his back, clearly angry. He spoke to Aeneas.

“So this is where our grand expedition ends, eh?

We escaped the island of monsters just to be imprisoned by a bunch of talking cats.

Well, Barbara, you got what you wanted. We’re not gonna die next to the tree. We’re gonna die here in an arena.”

Regulus interrupted. “No. We’re not gonna die in an arena.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” Marcus sneered.

“Because we probably have more value as slaves. We’ll be sold.”

“Oh, thank you. I was worried no one recognized my value.”

The humor was present, the mirth was absent.

Olivia got up and shouted down Marcus.

“Why do blame Barbara? Why not Alexander?

He’s the one who made us build that stupid ship.”

Castra looked away from the Dolphin smiling in mockery, “She was the one who encouraged us to do it.”

“So you’ll blame the motivator, not the creator of the plan? You’re just covering for House Pompanianus.”

Castra jumped in. “Because. There was nothing wrong with Alexander’s plan. We got off the island. Who spoke to the crazy cat lady? Pliny and Pompanianus.

Who translated for them? Barbara.

Who sat at dinner with them? Barbara.

Maybe we could have lived on the sea a little while, but Barbara got seasick, so we had to find a port in this city.”
The others mummered in agreement.

Pollux grew visibly agitated. His sister fussed over him, but he brushed her aside and stood.

“What are you saying?

Listen to yourselves!

After everything Pliny and Pompanianus taught us, after all we learned—do you think they’d be happy to see us tearing each other apart at the first sign of failure?”

Olivia timidly interrupted. “Do we know where they are? Are they okay?”

Mutterings followed: they didn’t know, they were unconscious when Pliny and Pompanianus were taken.

“What if they’re dead?”

“No—they’ll come rescue us.”

Pollux raised his voice the tremor could be heard under the bravado. “No. We must imagine they are dead.”

Gasps filled the cage.

Olivia burst into tears. Castra turned to her brother. “What are you saying?”

“Remember why we built the boat in the first place?

If we just wait here for Pompanianus and Pliny to rescue us, we might as well plant another tree in this cell.

We’d be repeating the same mistake as before.”
The boys began to stand around Pollux, Castra got up to defend him. Pollux was undeterred.

“So we need to prepare. We need to plan our exit. We must act as if Pompanianus and Pliny are no longer with us—carry their legacy, or rescue them.”

Castro stood, supporting her little brother. Barbara joined her, then Alexander.

“You’re right,” Alexander admitted. He looked at Marcus. “Well? Are you going to apologize?”

Marcus sheepishly nodded. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Arachne apologized in turn.

They began discussing escape plans.

A shout came from the guards:
“Hey, knock it off with all that babbling, fshh! If I don’t get my nap because of your elf noise, you’re gonna feel pain, grya!”

Castro smiled. “They don’t understand us.”

Regulus advised caution. “They don’t need to know our words. If they see prisoners huddling, whispering, they’ll know.”

Everyone admitted he was right.

“So what do we do?”

Regulus looked at Oliva. “Actually, this time shouting is the better choice.”

Olivia blinked.

“We put on a little play. We act like a bunch of poor elf children, mixing our native language with Common. We whisper our plans in Latin, mixed with wails and cries about our fate.”

Olivia straightened herself, smiled and prepared the performance of her lifetime.