Page 5 of Seized to Sacrifice
He finished his drink in silence, waiting for her to awaken, which she did a little while later, stirring with a groan.
‘Get up,’ he said, not waiting a moment longer.
She got to her feet with a whimper, holding her head and he canted his at her pretense. Why this charade? With a roll of his eyes, he grabbed her again by the arm and walked her quickly from the hall while Thorne and Nyx looked on, the barest hints of curiosity in their expressions.
They knew how creative he could be with his tortures. They’d seen enough of his work over the many, many years. Thorne and Nyx might be the only ones left who knew how he’d learned most of his skills, but even they’d not seen all of his scars.
His face was grim as he took her towards the beginning of her end. They couldn’t kill her, but he swore that if she never saw the light of day again, her mind would be well and truly broken. He’d start with the things she hated most. The cold. The darkness.
Taking her down the steps into the deep, dark bowels of their ancient fortress, he was gratified by her body’s fearful quivering though they’d not even begun their torments properly. Down here it was dank and wet, the oldest part of the keep.
He pushed her into the last cell, hard against the grimy wall. He grabbed her arms and pinned them over her head, chaining them above her.
She fought feebly, pulling against the bonds with a cry. His hands, starting to burn from the iron, left hers and he couldn’t help trailing them down her body lightly. He rolled his eyes at himself. This was meant to be forhertorment not his.
Backing away from her so that he wasn’t so tempted, he shut the door of the cell and locked it securely.
‘Why are you doing this?’ she cried with tears in her eyes. ‘What do you want with me?’
He turned away with a sneer. ‘If you really don’t know, you will soon enough,’ he called over his shoulder.
He went back upstairs to the hall, taking his seat with the others and not believing for a second that she was as ignorant as she claimed.
‘We told Quin we’d help him in the north,’ Thorne said as they sat in silent camaraderie. ‘Are we not to join the Army again now that we have our little guest downstairs? I’m sure you’d like to get started … or perhaps you’d rather begin by making her wait, imagining the many fates that might await her here?’
‘I think I’ll let her stew in the cold down there for a while,’ Rye said with a grin. ‘You remember how much she hated to feel the chill. I’ll send a bird to Quin to tell him we’ll be delayed.’
‘You both seem so sure now that it's her,’ Nyx said, gazing into his drink as if it might hold answers. ‘Why?’
Rye sniffed. ‘Besides the fact that the woman currently in the cells could be her twin?’
Thorne frowned, looking into the fire. ‘I can’t explain it. I just know it’s her despite her scent. She’s finally come to show her hand. She’ll see whatever game she’s playing through to the end. We all know her well enough to deduce that much. Why else would she have come? She’ll torture us further if we let her. Mark my words. In our dungeon is the bitch who put us here, who cast us into this place. BanishedUS! I aim to get revenge for the years we’ve endured. You two do as you like, but don’t get in my way.’
Thorne shrugged and his lips turned up into the ghost of a smile. ‘Whether or not it’s her, it’s been a long time since we indulged our old selves and took a slave girl to play with. Too bad breaking her will be so easy from what we’ve seen of her so far,’ he chuckled.
‘Looked to me like she was well and truly broken already,’ Nyx muttered.
Rye nodded absently. ‘Killed a slaver on the road while I was out. Brought his wares back as freemen.’
‘Can't keep taking in all the strays in the realm,’ Nyx said. ‘Got a lot of fucking mouths to feed without three more.’
Thorne chuckled. ‘Somehow I don't think the female downstairs is going to be getting much.’ He stood and stretched. ‘It's late and I’m fucking tired,’ he said, stalking from the room.
Nyx followed soon after and Rye stayed where he was, staring into the fire, knowing that neither of them had truly gone upstairs to bed.
It looked like she would be getting little respite during her first night.
* * *
She
She was dimlyaware of his footsteps receding into the darkness. Her knees gave way suddenly, practically pulling her bound arms from their sockets and she scrambled to push herself back up, her feet sliding in the damp, rotten reeds that covered the stone floor. Her mind was in confusion and turmoil, fear reigning over all.
She shivered, thankful for the old shoes that one of the other slaves had given her in that cart although they were much too big. It had been the only kindness she’d been shown. She doubted the large man on the horse who’d bought her would have thought of her feet as they journeyed here … wherever here was.
Her knees knocking together, she leant against the stone wall at her back. It was damp and slimy in places, but at least the cold of it eased the pain of the lashes on her back from that horrible man's whip.
She didn't know how long she'd been in that forest, walking around in circles, but when the merchant had found her, she was exhausted and parched and stupidly thought that his smile was a friendly one, that he would help her when she begged him for water.
