Page 16 of A Touch of Savagery

“I’ll give you something to whine about, traitor’s son.”

“King Taven’s lying-and I’m not my Father either. I didn’t kill Sam! Please! I-”

The backhand across his face came so fast, he had no hope of avoiding it. Oriel tasted blood as the guard dragged him down the hallway by one arm.

The large room at the end looked like it was for storage since a bunch of crates were on one side, but it had been hastily turned into a place to torture him. A hook in the ceiling had a chain hanging from it, and a small cage was to one side. Oriel wondered if he’d ever leave this room again. Maybe the lord’s son would use him down here when he felt like it.

The guard undid the elbow binding but left the cuffs on, and he attached the chain to them. He turned a wheel on the wall and drew up the chain so that Oriel's arms were lifted high, forcing him to bend over. The new strain on his shoulders nearly broke him down to tears.

He knew this was only the start.

“Strappado usually helps with defiance,” said the guard.

He went to a crate and pulled out something. Oriel started to breathe heavier as the whip unfurled, and the thin tip hit the floor. Elira, why couldn’t he have just died with his family?

“If you say a word, I’ll crank the wheel again and start over with the lashes.” The guard advanced with the whip.

Chapter Six

Aspen had no memory of getting to the room where a bunch of other people were chained to a railing. The heat was stifling, the floor was filthy, and flies buzzed around. The chain connecting his collar to the railing barely had enough length to let him lie on the floor.

He thought he remembered someone hugging him and saying they loved him, but it couldn’t have been real. It certainly wasn't any of the others sitting on the floor and spaced along the railing. He didn’t even feel real at that moment, and he stared ahead, not caring about where he was or why. Someone would probably come to rape him again.

Just like on the ship. That’s all his life consisted of now.

Two others talked in hushed voices about Oriel and how he’d been publicly shamed and named as a traitor’s son. Then they argued over whether that was a lie or not. Aspen didn’t care. Why couldn’t have just died on the ship?

“Hey.” Someone kicked his leg. “Drink this.”

A wooden mug of water was placed in front of him on the floor. Or he assumed that’s what it held. It wasn’t like he looked or cared to see the contents.

“Drink.” Someone kicked his leg again.

Aspen didn’t care that his mouth was dry, and his throat hurt from it.

“If you don’t start acting right and drink, we’ll put you down tomorrow.”

Good. He closed his eyes.

He didn’t feel pain if he went to that quiet spot like he did on the sixth day on the ship when he stopped feeling everything else. Maybe he could stay there forever if they killed him soon. It seemed like only seconds had gone by before someone was tapping his face.

“Sit up,” said a woman’s voice.

“I don’t think you want that one. He’s useless. He won't even sit up.”

“Because you don’t know how to take care of him. You just dumped him on the floor.”

"I'm not here to baby anyone."

“This place is disgusting too.”

“Then go to one of the fancier slave markets.”

Hands touched his face and turned it. He didn't bother to open his eyes. "If you expect to make money, you should keep the slaves in good condition."

“Pfft. He’s all used up. You can tell by his eyes, and he won't drink now. They should have pitched him off the side. He's lucky he's getting a chance at all because we’ll kill him tomorrow if he doesn’t straighten out. The soldiers who brought him said he used to be a pleasure slave, but who wants a half-dead rag doll?”

"I'll take him. He just needs food and sleep."

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