Rhada shook her head in response but Nanny Obina did not seem to notice. “I’ll show you cold!”
Nanny Obina tightened her grip on Rhada and began dragging her out of the room. She cried and pleaded with the nanny but her words fell on deaf ears. She drug Rhada through the dark hall and through a side door that led to the courtyard outside. When the door was thrown open, Rhada was immediately hit in the face with a cold gust of wind.
Nanny Obina dragged Rhada to the center of the courtyard and threw her against a wooden post supporting a decaying lattice which had been placed there to provide shade.
Rhada began to sob uncontrollably, hearing her cries echo throughout the courtyard. She knew that everyone inside the orphanage would be able to hear her but she cried anyway.
“Take off your clothes!” Nanny Obina shouted but Rhada shook her head in defiance, not wanting to lose the only protection against the cold she had, however small it may be.
“I said, take them off!” Nanny Obina shouted again and she reached forward and struck Rhada on the cheek with a hard slap.
Rhada fell to her knees and reached a hand up to her already swollen cheek. She knew she had no choice but to obey and with shaking hands, she pulled her nightgown over her head.
She kneeled naked in the dirt, crying and shaking all over. By this time, the commotion had stirred the house and all the other children began pouring out into the courtyard. When they saw Rhada’s naked and exposed body, they began to point and laugh.
She tried her best to cover herself from the eyes of the other children but Nanny Obina would not allow her to. She reached down and pulled Rhada up by the hair and pushed her against the wooden post so that her face was resting on the frozen wood. She cried into the wood as though it would console her. She wrapped her arms around the post and held herself up, trying her best to ignore the laughter of the other children.
Nanny Obina found the reed switch that was kept next to the post for just such an occasion. She lifted it off the ground and stared at Rhada’s back for a moment before raising the reed above her head and bringing it down as hard as she could.
The sound of the switch whizzing through the air made Rhada tense and hug the post with all her might. The sting of the switch was amplified on her cold skin and in her child’s mind; she worried it would cause her frozen flesh to crack.
She screamed from the pain and with each scream, the laughter of the other children grew. They always came out to watch the beatings, laughing with joy at the fact that it was not them being smacked with the switch. Rhada certainly was not the only child who was reprimanded in this way, but it seemed to happen to her more often than it happened to the others.
Each strike of the switch made Rhada scream and fresh tears would roll down her cheeks. She counted eight whacks this time instead of the usual five and she knew from experience her back was dripping with fresh blood.
Nanny Obina set the switch down and turned to the other children in anger.
“All of you back to bed unless you’d like a turn at the post!” Every one of them turned hastily and ran for their beds, afraid to look back.
Nanny Obina pulled Rhada away from the post and held her a few inches away from her own face. Rhada could smell the woman’s retched breath as it pierced through the air and into her nostrils.
“Now when you go to bed, that blanket of yours is going to be the warmest thing you ever put on your body!” She reached down and grasped Rhada’s nightgown that had been lying in the dirt. She held it by the seams and pulled as hard as she could. The sound of the ripping fabric filled Rhada’s ears and she began to cry even harder.
Nanny Obina dropped the tattered shreds of what used to be Rhada’s nightgown back into the dirt and sneered down at the shaking girl.
“Now, back to bed with you!” She shouted and Rhada ran, quick as she could back inside to her bed where she climbed in and pulled the thin, freezing blanket over her head.
She spent the rest of that night crying under her blanket, shivering from the cold and listening to the howls of the other girls as they called her names and made fun of her naked body until the sun began to grow in the morning sky.
Chapter 39
Their voices were high-pitched and shrill; their words flying through the air like daggers. They laughed and shouted, calling her ‘dirty whore’ or ‘naked rat’. The thin blanket did nothing to block out the sound of their voices.
Then their voices began to echo, as though they were filling a large void.
Rhada moaned, only slightly aware of the pounding in her head. She was surprised to find that her back did not ache at all. Instead, the pain was behind her eyes. It pulsed and thudded, trying to break through her skull it seemed. She shook her head back and forth, hoping it would help the pain but it would not subside.
“Dirty whore!” The girls’ voices rang in her ears as though they were standing next to her.
Rhada wanted to tell them to stop, to leave her alone, but when she tried to open her mouth, pain shot up through her jaw and the most that could escape her lips was a groan.
Then the voices vanished and were replaced with a loud screeching sound, like metal being dragged across stone.
Rhada turned her head and tried to open her eyes but they seemed to fight against her. She felt something hot and wet begin to drip down the side of her face and into the corner of her mouth. She tasted it with the tip of her tongue- blood. She knew from the aching in her head that it was her own blood.
Finally, her eyes opened, only a sliver at first, revealing the blurry image of a darkened chamber. The meager light from a wall sconce danced in her vision, casting frightful shadows on the walls and for a moment, she thought they were the girls from the orphanage, dancing circles round the bed she was hiding in.
But I am not in a bed. She realized as her senses began to return to her. She felt the flow of blood begin to tingle in her arms and legs and she pressed the palm of her hand firmly against the solid stone she lay upon. The vague memory of sailing in a small boat, seeing the spires of a towering fortress and being pushed through drafty, dark corridors returned to her.
Then the sound of metal on stone began again. It echoed in the room like an alarm, telling her she was in danger.
Rhada moaned once again as she tried to lift her head to get a better look at the room. The pounding pain behind her eyes grew in intensity and nearly blinded her but she fought the urge to close them.
The room was small; a square of four stone walls with only a flimsy, wooden door to make an escape through. There was a table centered in the room with thick, iron chains dangling off the edges. There was a rack situated on one wall with several sharp tools resting in its rungs. Some were long like spears and others as short as daggers and jagged at the edges. There was a basin in the corner next to Rhada’s head that fumed with a stench so foul, it made her eyes water. And lining the walls on all sides were iron chains. They dangled from the ceiling or were secured into the floor.
She turned her gaze towards the scraping noise and saw there a giant of a man, standing at the wall, pulling a set of four chains through a large, metal wheel.
Clunk. She was beginning to remember.
She remembered standing in the stateroom with the warden, fearful of his desire to take her for his own- afraid he would put his slimy hands all over her cold and exposed flesh. Panicked, she turned her eyes down to her chest and saw with relief she was still wearing her cotton undershirt and woolen pants- the clothing she wore underneath her leathers at all times. Though the leathers themselves had been stolen from her, she was glad to see she was not entirely naked.
Naked rat.
Rhada lowered her head to the ground and squeezed her eyes closed, wishing the headache would subside. Then she heard the pounding of the giant’s footsteps as he walked to where she was lying. She felt him grab her ankles and raise them up into the air. She opened her eyes and watched the ceiling of the chamber drift past her as the giant dragged h
er across the room. She made no sound, nor did she try to fight against him- she knew who would win that fight.
He dragged her close to the wheel on the wall and dropped her legs as though they were a toy he was no longer interested in playing with.
Rhada watched with anxious eyes as he bent down low and reached for four solid iron shackles and when he turned, she could see spikes lining the inside of the rings like sharp teeth in a gaping jaw, just like the spiked shackles the dungeons of Axendra possessed.
The giant dropped the shackles next to her and reached for her legs first. She cried out and tried to squirm away, not caring that her fear had taken control of her. The giant let out a loud bellow of anger as he reached out and firmly grasped Rhada’s kicking leg. She shouted in pain from his grip, hoping he did not break her leg in the process.
He reached down with his other hand and grabbed the shackle nearest to him then he placed Rhada’s foot inside, not seeming to notice that she was pushing against him with all her strength, and slammed the shackle closed around her ankle.
Rhada screamed. Her scream echoed off the chamber walls like the sound of the girls’ voices. She closed her eyes tightly; forgetting about the pain in her head- the pain in her leg surpassed all other feeling. It shot up through her knee and into her hips in waves, causing the rest of her body to shudder. She could not tell if the leg was broken but she knew that either way, it would be completely unusable.
Then the giant reached down for her other leg and she began to scream again.
“No!” She shouted and kicked at his large fist, which he brought down on her knee. Water began to fill her eyes. Then the cold steel of the shackle against her soft flesh made her stiffen and the sound of the shackle being slammed closed rang in her ears and deafened her. She was aware that her mouth was gaped open; she was aware that she was screaming into the small chamber, but the sound was distant, as though she was floating away.
She felt her hand being lifted from the ground and this time, she did not fight. She did not wish to suffer any more blows from the giant’s large fist.
The shackles hurt as traumatically on her wrists as they did on her ankles. She was crying and writhing on the floor, completely unable to control herself. She tried to pull her hands up but the weight of the shackles held them in place. She realized she could not move her feet either but the rest of her body squirmed like a worm on a fish hook.
Finally she stopped writhing and screaming, knowing that she was only causing herself more pain. She opened her eyes and looked up at the ceiling through her tears, breathing heavily, the cold air of the chamber stinging the back of her throat and her lungs.
There were a few moments of silence then the scraping of metal once more attracted her attention back to the giant. He had moved to the wall and taken hold of the handle on the iron wheel and was starting to turn it. Rhada felt the pressure on the shackles tighten as her body was being pulled across the floor. She held in her cries of pain as long as she could but when she felt her feet being lifted off the ground, she could hold them in no longer. The pain was immense and took from her any ability of keeping silent she possessed. She did not scream like before but cried out with a shout of agony as her legs were lifted off the ground entirely. A few more turns of the wheel and her whole body was dangling in the air like a butchered pig. Her arms were outstretched over her head from the weight of the shackles pulling them down, and she could feel the spikes in her ankles dig deeper from the stress of holding her up. She knew her skin was being torn to shreds and could feel fresh, hot blood running down her legs.
Rhada stopped her shouting and began to whimper instead. She felt her body shake and jerk with each pulse of pain but could do nothing to stop it.
Her dream suddenly returned to her and she wished she was back in the courtyard of the orphanage, getting struck by the reed switch. The pain of that was nothing compared to what she was feeling now. She would have gladly traded the pain of the shackles for a hundred whacks of the switch if she could.
“Interesting sensation, is it not?” The familiar voice of the warden echoed to her ears. She had not even been aware of his presence in the chamber but she did not open her eyes to look at him- she could not open her eyes. They had closed with the intensity of the pain and refused to open again.
“I understand you are used to being in charge.” Daren continued. She could feel his presence as he stepped beside her dangling body. She could smell the stench of his grimy flesh as he drew nearer. “You are used to telling people what to do- commanding them to do your will.
‘But you are not in charge here, I am!” The warden’s voice portrayed a hint of anger as he spoke to her. He leaned in close, as though she could not clearly hear him.
“You are no longer High Protector. You are nothing! You are the scum I scrape from my shoes at the end of the day.” He whispered so close to her ear now, she could feel his hot breath on her cold cheek. She could respond with nothing but a moan of anguish.
“But you are mine now! You belong to me. And when I give you a command, you obey that command without question.” Finally, he leaned away, relieving her nose from the wretched stench emanating from his flesh.
“Soon, you will understand.” She could hear him turn and begin to walk away.
“Clunk!” He called after the giant. “Let us leave the prisoner alone to mull things over for a while.” The giant’s footsteps followed the warden’s out of the chamber and the next thing Rhada heard was the slamming of a door and she knew she was alone. She wondered how long she could hang there before she lost consciousness or death took hold of her.
Please! She begged no one in particular. She wasn’t a believer in Gods but she begged nonetheless.
Please let it be death that finds me and let it find me quickly! She cried out as a new wave of pain traveled through her body like a wave of the ocean and she knew that death would not save her- nothing could save her now.
There was no telling how many days or nights had passed. Everything was the same in the small chamber. Every once in a while, a strange, awkward man would come in and re-light the candles on the walls and without saying anything to her or even passing to her a pitiful glance, he would be gone again, leaving her alone in her torture chamber.
The pain in her wrists and ankles, while still there, had subsided considerably. Now, it was a crippling thirst that consumed her. She could see the solution to her pain, sitting on the floor in front of her but she could not reach it. The bucket had been placed just outside of her reach. Each time she inched forward on her stomach, the chains that were attached to her shackles would pull against their wall-mounted hooks, sending new waves of pain up and down her legs and arms and causing fresh blood to ooze from underneath the iron. She could touch the side of the bucket of water with her fingertips but no more.
She gave up quickly and spent the rest of her time staring at the smallest hole in the bucket, watching a tiny trickle of water drizzle into the cracks of the stones and vanish from sight.
Watching the water disappear into the floor in front of her was pure torture. She wanted to scream at the bucket in frustration but she did not have the strength. She wanted to try to reach for it again but the heaviness of the shackles had finally beaten her. Her body was weak and broken and she could not move even if she wanted to. She just stared at the bucket with dejection as she slipped in and out of consciousness.
Something echoed in the distance and Rhada recognized the sound of the chamber door being thrown open. She knew the sound should have been louder but her mind was not fully conscious. Her eyes remained closed as the giant’s footsteps drew nearer, causing the stone underneath her head to vibrate.
“Oh my.” She heard the voice of the warden. Slowly, she began to open her eyes. Her breathing was hard and it was difficult for her to suck in the stale air of the dank chamber. She turned her head slowly to the side and was greeted with the sight of the warden’s and the giant’s feet.
“D
id I put this bucket out of your reach?” He asked in a mocking voice. She thought she could hear him laughing.
“It has been nearly three days and you are not dead yet.” He kicked the bucket over, spilling the water onto the floor around her.
Rhada suddenly found enough strength to throw her arm over her chest and roll to her side, sticking her face down into the stone to lap at the spilled water like a dog. The amount she got was only enough to wet her tongue. It did nothing to quench her thirst but only served to torment her more. She cried out with anger and rolled onto her back, giving up entirely.
“Clunk,” the warden said to his servant, “I do not think the prisoner got enough to drink.”
She closed her eyes again and tried to ignore what was going on. I will just die from thirst then. I am so close already- a few more days of suffering and it will all be over. The thought was a comfort to her, knowing the pain and thirst would disappear entirely.
She was vaguely aware of the sound of her chains being freed from the wall and her body being dragged by them. It was the stinging pain in her ankles and wrists that brought her back to her senses. She opened her eyes to find Clunk holding the loose ends of the chains and dragging her across the room to the foul-smelling basin. He dropped the chains and reached out for her head. She wanted to squirm away but could not find the strength to move.
Suddenly, Clunk lifted her head off the floor and dunked it into the basin of stale, tainted water.
At first, the wet washing away the dryness of her mouth was a relief but when the taste of the water registered, she nearly vomited it back up. She jerked and tried to push against Clunk’s hand but could not free herself and he held her under until she stopped struggling and her eyes began to fill with darkness.
Rhada wanted to scream but her mouth and nose filled with the retched taste of what she assumed was water at some point, but it had turned into a festering pool of mold and slime and reminded her of the bog she had slipped in once on her journey to Tyos.
Rise of Darkness (The Watchers Book 2) Page 39