“Is
that all you know?” The voice is low, sweet, and yet seems to come
from the very pits of hell.
Gritting
my teeth against the fear that clamors in the pit of my stomach, I
nod. “That is it. Please… Leave me be, my Lady.”
She
leans forward from the wooden chair; her small feet touch the stone
floor, covered in mud, stains of blood, and the many signs of the
tortures that have been carried out in this small room. “And you
are certain that is all you know?”
The
hands holding me down tighten. A waft of sheer heat from the red hot
brand held too close touches my cheek and I feel the terror begin to
build in my middle once more. I keep my eyes locked on her smiling
green ones. “Yes, my Lady. It is all.”
“Is
it?” She muses over the words slowly, removing her gaze from my
sweating body to rub her delicate hand across the gilded armrest of
her seat. “Somehow… it seems that you should know more, Stellen.”
A
tremor runs through my frame; I try to hide it, try not to let the
dread
in my heart show on my face. It doesn’t matter. You can smell it in
the air. The entire chamber reeks of old agony, of broken promises,
and trusts that were not sacred enough to be kept when faced with
what all men fear.
Her
attention moves to the man holding my right arm. She favors him with
a lovely smile, brushing a single black strand of hair behind her
ear. “The metal has cooled. If you would see to it?”
“But,
my Lady…” His grip stiffens; he stares at her in uncertainty.
She
waves her hand towards the chains hanging from the walls. “Put him
back where he came from, by all means. He claims he knows nothing.
What else can I do?”
Hope
sends a dangerous thrill through me. I know much, too much for my own
good. I know everything,
and she must realize that. What is she doing?
I
don’t bother resisting as they press my raw back once more against
the damp wall and raise my hands over my head. My shoulders scream in
protest, but I ignore the shards of discomfort already piercing the
sore muscles. She’s
letting you off too easy. Don’t be a fool, Stellen. There is
something else wrong.
Ignoring the haunting suspicion, I try and focus my
muddled mind on her again; the cold iron cuffs close on my wrists.
She’s smiling, but not at her man this time. The expression is
centered on me. Her lovely, but cold eyes are glued to my blood
smeared face.
Both men step away from my side. With their support
gone, my body moans once more in protest against the unbearable pain
that has laid hold of my being.
“Out,” She commands with a slight gesture of her
fingers, not even bothering to glance in their direction. They
probably bow when leaving the room, wouldn’t dare to do otherwise,
but I can’t tell for certain. There is only enough strength left in
my sleep deprived mind for one more struggle. Maybe, if I can get
past this, maybe then she will let me die. Maybe.
The heavy door slams behind them and we are left alone
in the torture chamber. Her smile grows.
“Stellen.” She rises to her feet in a single
graceful movement, her black gown falling in perfect folds about her
slim form. “You have held out admirably.”
Her head cocks to the side. “I’ll admit, I didn’t
excepted such steadfast resistance. Ava has loyal followers, if not
very many of them.”
“She
may have more of them than you think, Melody,”
I reply, surprised by the wave of fury that catches me off guard.
“Insolence,” She notes with equal surprise. “Not
the response I thought to have from you. Your strength seemed to be
of the quieter sort, without any of the bluster that many of your
companions have shown when put to the test. I struck a tender cord,
then?”
“You
will speak of her as Lady
Ava,”
I answer coldly. “That is her title. You may deny her right to the
seat of power, but you will at least address her by the name that
those of her blood merit!”
“And sudden anger.” Turning, she bends closer to the
fire-pit set in the center of the stone floor and stirs the coals
with the heavy branding iron placed there by the guard at her
command. “A very tender cord.”
“She is the true heir.” I choose the words
carefully. “With the line of male descent broken, she holds the
best claim. All true men follow her, or wish they had the courage.”
She stands, turning back to me. Her small hand is still
closed around the rough pole. She holds it towards me, a faint smile
curling one end of her delicate mouth.
A tremor runs through my soul again. I want to scream,
to send a visible sign of the terror in my heart to all that walk the
earth. And I remain silent.
“You know this symbol?” Her free hand gestures
towards the shape on the end. Finely formed beneath all the soot, it
glows a dull red.
I focus on it, even though I already know. The two
dragons chase each other in an endless circle, wings arched in
flight, feathers streaming back from their crested heads. If it was
on a banner, one would be white, the other black as midnight. Now
they are red. Glowing with a fiery hunger. “It is your family
crest.”
A quiet laugh escapes her. “Yes, so it is. And this
brand… it is the one I use on the cattle. I ordered it brought to
this room especially for the occasion.”
She smiles at me again, green eyes glinting with
suppressed laughter. Her slim body moves closer, so close that my
skin begins to crawl with revulsion. She leans against the wall at my
side; I shrink back, staying as far away as the chains on my wrist
will allow.
And she speaks once more, still with that slow, hungry
smile. “Why do we mark cattle? Will you explain it to me?”
I’m
trembling, I can’t help it. All the pain and fear from the last few
weeks of torture pour into my soul. Ava,
how much must I give you? My
soul sends the cry up in silence, and I bite my tongue. I swore, gave
my word to keep silent. Even if it means death… or worse.
“Since you are mute, I suppose I must finish.” She
comes even nearer; her long black hair wafts gently in a gentle
breeze that slips through the bars of the single small window in the
far side of the room.
“I mark my cattle, Stellen, to show that they belong
to me. My property, thralls to my will.” The branding iron lifts
higher as she brandishes it before my weary gray eyes. “Tell me
what you know, or you also shall bear my mark. Do you wish for the
world to see you as my slave?”
I force my shoulders to lift in a careless shrug. “With
or without your mark on my body, I will still die. You have flogged
me, my Lady. Daily tortures for almost two weeks. Burns on my arms,
and legs. Threats, lies, flattery and promises… You almost tried
the rack once, only passing it by for fear that I should die without
telling what I knew.”
“Wounds heal.” The iron wavers in her hands; her
eyes narrow in sudden alarm.
A tired grin touches my mouth. “That’s right, my
Lady. But you can’t whip me day after day, and then leave the
wounds exposed in your rat infested prison without some sort of
repercussion. Every stripe on my back is inflamed. Infection has set
in, I’m not going to last.”
“You would steal from me my revenge,” She hisses
through clenched teeth. Spinning round in a whirl of black silk, she
calls for her guards in a voice that shakes with barely controlled
rage.
The sound slaps the side of my aching head. I wince,
letting my eyes slid shut and allow my body to hang from the chains
on my wrists. Every muscle in my beaten form screams in agony,
wailing for rest. If only she would order me killed, or leave me in
peace to die in my own time.
“Stellen.” My name is spoken quietly, almost
swallowed by the grating of the rusty hinges on the door.
Forcing myself upright, I level my gaze on her tiny
form. Movement behind her warns of the approach of her men, but I
ignore them. This moment is my battle.
“You don’t have enough information stored within
your soul to merit my wasting any more time on breaking you.” Her
green eyes smile, but the expression is cruel, sharp as a freshly
whetted knife. She is out for blood. “My councilors tell me that I
spend too much time on your sorry carcass, that you are useless
unless you can be broken.”
“You
can’t break me.” I spit the words into her beautiful face,
dragging out the last few drops of my strength. “Kill me, Lady
Melody. Let me die, throw me in your dungeon with the rest of the
ones that proved useless. If I have
information worth telling, I’m obviously not giving it!”
She holds the branding iron out, a guard takes it from
her hand. He carefully places it back in the fire, and reaches for
the poker leaning on the side of the open fireplace. A billow of
spark rises as he plunges the iron rod into the heart of the flames.
“Allow me to finish, if you will. I was going to say
that I disagree. I firmly believe that you can be of use to me,
Stellen. Bloodied back and all.”
“And how,” I say carefully, fighting to keep my
voice steady in spite of the pain that threatens it. “Would I, a
lowly laborer, serve you?”
Her dark head inclines to the side, and the smile on the
lovely face grows softer. “As my example. Let the country see what
it means to go against Lady Melody. To go against the heir to the
throne. I shall allow you to live, even permit you to return to your
darling Ava.”
I bite my lip to force myself to remain silent. There is
a time to defend her honor, and her rightful title, but it is not
now. Ava would understand.
“But
you shall bear my mark. Until the day you die, most likely in defense
of your idol, the mark of Melody Stygian
will be on your skin.”
The terror in my heart ascends a notch. This is it. My
instincts tell me that this is the end. I have evaded her questions
for two and a half weeks, most of them put to me under torture.
Now,
at the last test, pain and terror both rise up together to scream
silently in my chest. Words bubble up in my throat. The words she
wanted to hear, everything that I held back. Keep
silent, you fool! Remember your oath.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” She turns slightly towards
the brown-haired man at the brazier behind her. “Just when you
think that honor is extinct, you find a man that will give his all
for it.”
“Melody.” The words I allow to leave my lips are
short and clipped. “There is something that I love even more than
my honor. It is for that I am willing to die. And if necessary, I
will also give my life. Dying would be easier, but I am willing to
live on maimed if it is asked of me.”
“How heroic,” She comments dryly. Then speaking to
the guard once more, “Is it ready?”
He lifts the brand out of the blaze. It pulses in the
stinking air of the room, burning through the scent of blood to touch
my nostrils with its metallic odor. “Yes, my Lady. It is ready. Do
you wish for it?”
Her nose curls in distaste at the mere thought. “No,
stupid one! It is one thing to threaten him with it, but for me to
actually do it myself? You may hold the iron.”
“Where would you like it done?” His body comes
towards us slowly. I feel myself tremble at his every step, eyes
fastened on the red-hot dragons that are to sear their mark into my
skin. Forcing them up, I look at Melody. I will not beg, but the
temptation calls for my attention anyways. And I can’t ignore it.
Not now.
She continues to smile at me in her charming, cold way.
“The right cheek. I want it to be in plain sight.” Her hand rises
in the air and gestures for the man by the door to come forward.
“Hold him down. If he thrashes, the burn will be misshapen. I want
my crest to be obvious for the world to see.”
My blue eyes dart to him, but I don’t see him. A thin
reel of shock slices through my soul.
The
face is that of an angel, despite the ash and blood that besmirch the
skin. Brown eyes watch me with deep concern. The round chin trembles
in silent compassion,and a tear slides down through the dirt on her
freckled cheek. Ava.
Reason
tells me she can’t be here, that this image is the product of fear,
pain, and weeks of abuse. But it is her face, her slim body in its
black leather pants and tattered green tunic. The shirt of metal
rings pulled over the top of the tunic and fastened with the belt of
stained brown leather is as I remember it, complete with the five
broken links at her right shoulder from the arrow.
“There is no need to hold me down, Melody.” I press
my back firmly against the stone wall; a thousand needles slice into
my back on contact. I’m not flinching in front of Ava.
Her green eyes are on me, I feel the icy touch sliding
across my body. “I believe you. But all the same…” A white
hands waves carelessly in my direction. “Hold him down.”
The tanned girl by the door winces in anticipation of
the iron. With my eyes on her, I don’t see it coming, but I can
sense the body of the man moving steadily closer. And then I can’t
avoid the sight, he draws so near.
The glowing metal rises directly in front of my eyes. I
cast a look at the bearded face before me; his expression is that of
a dead man, no heart within the body. And no pity.
The
rough hands of the second guard grab my head and slam it back against
the wall. A jab of pain pierces my building terror, wrapping round my
neck and sinking into my torso. No
use in struggling.
The thought is bitter, but I accept it anyways. When he presses my
head to the side, I turn it for him without being forced.
And the branding iron comes, both dragons pulsing a
heavy red; I make no movement to stop it, or withdraw out of the way.
Melody’s dark hair moves round the other side of her
man. She moves closes, hungry for a glimpse of her revenge on a
person that would not break, or betray the faith bestowed on him.
The hot metal touches skin.
Pure heat sears into my cheek. It grows, consuming
everything else in its path. There is no other pain, no guards
watching. I hover in another world where there is nothing but me, and
this torture. And there is Ava.
She is faint, somehow a part of this red existence that
tastes of death and despair. And she weeps. The tears stream down her
face as she watches. I don’t move, but the torment must find
release somehow.
My voice escapes into the filthy air. It rises high in a
scream of agony. And then the pressure on the side of my face is
gone. But the heat remains. Sinking deeper with every second, a part
of me. It will leave, but only after it has left its mark.
I hear words being spoken. They somehow slip into the
world that I inhabit and curl around my mind. And then I’m leaving
the world. A gentle force pulls me towards the door and does not
relent until I pass through.
I don’t return to the room. The dark claims my mind
immediately, and I give into its calls. Slowly, I fall beneath the
pall of the night. But even in my unconsciousness, I feel the pain.
It is living. It will leave someday, but its mark will always stay.
In the black of night, there is nothing. Nothing but the
screaming agony. Even Ava has left me. And I’m alone.
Points: 200
Reviews: 5
Donate