The Isle of Torment

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The Isle of Torment Page 14

by Andrew Hunter


  “Just get us some good knives and swords if you can find them,” Tanys said, “sturdy and sharp as you can get. We’ll have to make do with speed and surprise. How many bodyguards does Vriene have?”

  Brynn waved his arms. “The whole fuckin’ place, really,” he said, “I mean everybody in here is so scared of him that they’ll fight if he says fight… But real bodyguards… maybe twenty.”

  “Can we pick them off a few at a time?” Tanys asked, “What about that one with the key you mentioned?”

  “I don’t know,” Brynn said, running his hand through his hair, “I don’t keep track of shit like that. I have enough work to do here.”

  “Well, figure it out soon!” Tanys hissed, “If we can hit him first and get to the armory, I can get my daggers back, and the rest of you can take what you need.”

  “What we need is to get the hell off this island,” Brynn growled, “and the longer we fuck around with your stupid plan, the less chance we have of doing that!”

  Tanys smiled. “Grow some balls, stableboy!” she said, “You’re about to be a free man.”

  “Fuck you!” Brynn said.

  “Can you get me down to see Berra and Tyll?” she asked, “I want to tell them the plan.”

  Brynn shook his head. “Too risky,” he said, “People are starting to look for those two assholes we dumped in the sewer. It’s better I go alone and let your friends know to be ready.”

  “You know what to tell them about the plan?”

  “Your plan is pretty much just to kill everybody and run away, right?” Brynn laughed.

  “Yeah, that’s about it,” Tanys said.

  Brynn started to speak, but a voice called out from the doorway of the storeroom.

  “Am I interrupting something?”

  Tanys’s blood ran cold at the sight of Vecca, framed in the doorway. The former Daima wore a short black dress, revealing her pale limbs that still bore the bruises of the brutal punishment she had received. Her eyes seemed hollow and sunken with exhaustion.

  “Shit,” Brynn muttered under his breath before raising his voice, “What do you want, Vecca?”

  Tanys noted the flash of pain in her eyes at his harsh tone and guessed there was a history between the two ghasts.

  “Master Vriene wishes to speak with your… student,” Vecca said, her eyes now cold and hard as she refused to even look at Tanys.

  Tanys’s heart sank. She and Brynn shared a worried glance.

  “Why did he send you to tell us that?” Brynn asked.

  “It… amuses him,” Vecca answered.

  “What does he want?”

  “How would I know?” she scoffed, “Just send the little slut to him and be done with it… or don’t, and you can both suffer the consequences, for all I care.”

  Vecca turned and walked away, her hips swaying erratically in the staggered gait of one recovering from a terrible injury.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Brynn said. He picked up a nearby jar of balm and hurled it to shatter against the storeroom wall. “Fuck!”

  “Hey! Hold it together!” Tanys said, glancing at the doorway, “Stop worrying. It’s probably nothing. I’ll go see what he wants. He probably just wants me to watch him torture somebody while he sips wine and stares at my tits or something. I know how to handle him.”

  Brynn snorted with laughter. “You think he wants your body?” he asked.

  Tanys shrugged. “He likes seeing me naked as much as you do,” she said.

  “He likes seeing people wriggle on his hook,” Brynn said, “He wants to know what makes you squirm, and he’ll keep pushing until he figures out what that is. As for the other… I’ve never known him to fuck anyone, boy or girl. He’s more of a… soul rapist.”

  Tanys frowned, mentally reassessing the demonologist.

  Brynn sighed. “Just go,” he said with a wave of his hand, “Give him whatever he wants. Let him think he’s found a way to hurt you if you have to, just don’t do anything to make him suspect what we’re up to.”

  Tanys nodded and moved to go. Brynn caught her arm.

  “And don’t make him angry!” Brynn groaned. He gave her a tense smile and added, “Please?”

  Tanys scoffed and pulled free of his grip.

  Chapter 11

  Cold fear seized Tanys’s gut when the black iron doors swung open, and she saw Princess Anavaiel standing in the inner circle of Vriene’s pit. The girl was wearing a shimmering white dress, beaded with thousands of tiny pearls, and a silver coronet, braided into her golden hair. She looked back over her shoulder at Tanys, her large, jade-green eyes fearful and pleading.

  “Come in!” Vriene said, gesturing with a wave of his cane, “We’ve been waiting for you!” He sat, as usual, in the highest chair overlooking the pit.

  “My apologies, Master,” Tanys said, hurrying inside as the iron doors closed behind her.

  “Ugh, what are you wearing?” Vriene said, wrinkling his nose at the sight of the rough workman’s garments that Brynn had given her to wear.

  Tanys faltered in her steps and looked down at the stained, torn tunic and trousers. “I… didn’t have time to change… would you like me to remove them, Master?” she said.

  Vriene shook his head. “No… I think your raggedness offers an excellent foil to the flawless beauty of our honored guest.” He waved his hand toward the princess.

  “Yes, Master,” Tanys agreed, still hesitating at the edge of the outer circle, her eyes on the trembling princess.

  “Well, hurry up then,” Vriene sighed, “Take your seat. The show is about to begin.”

  Anavaiel bit her pink lower lip, and her shaking grew more pronounced as her eyes darted from Tanys to the demoniac ghast.

  Tanys swallowed her outrage and found the nearest empty chair at the raised table surrounding the pit.

  “Please, Master Vriene,” Anavaiel sobbed, “please don’t call that… thing! I’ll do anything you ask, just please…”

  “Hush!” Vriene scoffed, “Such nonsense! I have no intention of bothering my friend for such a simple matter as this. You have nothing to fear from me, my dear girl.”

  Anavaiel’s eyes glistened with tears as she covered her mouth with her silk-gloved hands. “Thank you, Master Vriene,” she cried.

  “Silence!” Vriene said, “Speak no more of it… I forbid it!”

  Anavaiel nodded sharply, her hands clamped tightly over her lips.

  “Now that I think of it,” Vriene said, touching a finger to his chin, “I’d prefer that you didn’t speak at all.”

  Anavaiel nodded again, dropping her hands to her sides.

  “As a matter of fact,” he mused, “if I hear a single word from you again this evening, I’ll have your tongue cut out.”

  Anavaiel whimpered in fear.

  “Do you understand me? Not a single word,” he hissed.

  Anavaiel nodded again.

  An evil grin bled across Vriene’s face as he turned his cold eyes to meet Tanys’s burning gaze. “You disapprove of the way I treat my toys?” he asked.

  Tanys took a breath to calm herself before replying, “It is not my place to disapprove… Master.”

  Vriene chuckled, turning his eyes back upon the quivering princess in the center ring. “This is to be a simple exercise in reconditioning” he said, “The princess still cowers behind the imagined grace of her station. If I am to work with her… to shape her into what I wish her to be… We must take away that false security to which she so desperately clings.”

  Tanys spoke without thinking, her voice hoarse, “What are you going to do?”

  Vriene looked at her and raised one eyebrow. “I’m glad you asked,” he said. He lifted his cane and brought it down with a loud thunk on the floor at his feet.

  A large ghast emerged from behind the curtains at the back of the chamber. The man wore only tight gray legging and knee-high polished boots of black leather. His long white hair was tied back in a ponytail, and his pallid skin glistened, his bare c
hest oiled and hairless. His thin lips curled in a cruel smirk as he walked around to enter the pit, his eyes never leaving the cowering princess.

  Tanys held her breath when she saw what he carried in his hands.

  “You recognize them?” Vriene laughed.

  “My daggers,” Tanys said, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the edge of the table before her.

  “I hope you don’t mind if we borrow them for this little… procedure,” Vriene said with a sneer.

  Tanys said nothing, watching as the ghast guardsman approached the frightened girl in the center of the ring. Tanys gritted her teeth as he scraped the edges of the blades together, and the black steel shrieked in protest.

  Princess Anavaiel squeezed her eyes shut as the shirtless ghast approached her. He leaned close, sniffing at the scent of her golden hair and chuckled wickedly. Anavaiel whimpered.

  “Remember now, Princess,” Vriene said, “not a word, or you lose your pretty little tongue.”

  Tanys glared at the cruel demoniac, but he did not notice it. His cold eyes flared with malicious glee as he watched his man circle the girl.

  Anavaiel steadied herself, letting out a long, slow sigh as she opened her eyes again. She looked straight ahead, ignoring the leering ghast as he lifted a lock of her hair with the point of Tanys’s knife. She flinched only slightly when he flicked it away, and a few blonde strands fell, severed, on the shoulder of her creamy white gown.

  “You have such lovely hair, princess,” Vriene said, his voice a low growl, “I wonder if we shouldn’t take it all.”

  The ghast flicked the knife again, and a curling lock of Anavaiel’s hair landed on the floor at her feet. She bit her lip, fighting back tears, but her eyes remained forward and unfocused.

  Anavaiel gasped as the Ghast warrior slipped one of the black daggers beneath her hair at the back of her neck. He looked to his master, awaiting the order to cut away the girl’s hair.

  Vriene relished the look of terror in Anavaiel’s eyes for a moment. Then he gave a little shake of his head, and the knife-wielding warrior stepped away without cutting any more.

  Tanys released a silent sigh of relief.

  “I wonder…” Vriene said, leaning back in his chair and bringing the ruby head of his cane to his lips, “What does one find inside something so beautiful? Is it, by necessity, something ugly and crude? Are we each given only a certain amount of virtue, and those of us who spend it on our exterior appearance are left wanting within? What do you think, Tanys?”

  Tanys thought a moment before answering, “I’ve met plenty of people who were ugly all the way through.”

  Vriene laughed. “True, true. Does it stand then to reason that some of us are given the shares missing in others? Can it be that one such as this can be rich in both outward and inward beauty while others are left wanting altogether?”

  Tanys said nothing.

  Vriene shrugged. “Well, I suppose the only way to find out what truly lies within her…” he paused and smirked, “is to keep cutting.”

  The ghast warrior stepped in close behind the girl and reached around to lift one of the black blades under her small left breast. Anavaiel’s breath came shallow and fast as he raked the edge of the blade along the beaded white silk that covered the soft mound of her breast, but she made no move to struggle against him. One by one, tiny pearls fell to bounce away on the dark stones of the floor, sheared off by the razor edge of the knife. He gave the dagger a little flick, sending a single pearl to bounce off her reddening cheek. He laughed as he stepped away.

  Anavaiel lifted her hand to cup her breast, lowering her face in shame. The ghast had not cut through the silk, but a large patch of the fabric lay, denuded of its pearls by the blade.

  The ghast warrior stepped in front of her, smiling cruelly as he ground the pearls on the floor to powder beneath his boot.

  Anavaiel lifted her face again, her eyes unfocused and staring once more.

  “Continue,” Vriene said.

  The knifeman stepped away, circling Anavaiel slowly, his eyes studying her body. Suddenly, he stepped in and flashed a blade across her shoulder. Anavaiel cried out, and Tanys flinched, but no blood stained the white cloth of the girl’s dress. The silk hung open in a narrow slash, revealing Anavaiel’s pale, undamaged skin beneath.

  Anavaiel closed her eyes and drew a steady breath as the man flicked open the collar of her dress with a touch of black steel. She did not flinch as he cut again, and a slash in her skirt parted to reveal a portion of her right thigh.

  Tanys relaxed a little now, watching as the ghast methodically destroyed Anavaiel’s gown, one cut at a time. Vriene obviously meant to frighten the girl, nothing more. Vriene had toyed with Cranston as well, but Anavaiel was the real prize, and he would not be so quick to be rid of her. He would have some plan for the girl, doubtless unpleasant, but he wouldn’t cause her any real harm. The princess just had to endure this little humiliation, and, by tomorrow night, she and the rest of them would be free.

  All Tanys would have to do is watch and feign indifference. She looked up to find that Vriene was looking at her. She met his gaze and nodded toward him.

  Vriene smiled.

  Anavaiel gave a little moan as the knifeman slipped a blade, point down inside the torn throat of her gown. He tugged hard, ripping downward to her navel. She gasped as he hooked both blades beneath the shoulders of her dress and slashed outward. The tattered silk fell away to the sides, and Anavaiel stood, naked to the waist, and trembling.

  Tanys choked down her rage as the guardsman stepped behind the girl once more, wrapping his muscular left arm around her neck and bringing the blade of the dagger in his right hand up between Anavaiel’s heaving breasts. He grinned as he present the stripped girl’s body for his master’s approval.

  Vriene licked his lips, savoring the moment. At last, he spoke again, “She is beautiful, don’t you think?”

  Tanys nodded her head sharply.

  “What was that?” Vriene said, cupping one hand to his ear.

  “Yes… Master Vriene,” Tanys said, “She is beautiful.”

  “Although, I suppose, we shouldn’t rush to judgment,” Vriene said, “We haven’t seen everything yet.” He gave a small wave to the guardsman.

  The ghast released his hold around Anavaiel’s throat and flourished both knives at her sides before stepping close to her again. He pressed the bulging codpiece of his pants against Anavaiel’s lower back and leaned against her as he slid the twin blades down along either side of the girl’s abdomen, between the waistband of her dress and her naked skin.

  Anavaiel turned her face away from his as he pressed his lips to her ear and whispered something that made her blush anew. With deliberate slowness, he cut away the last bindings of her ruined gown, and it fell to the floor around her feet.

  Anavaiel balled her small hands into fists at her sides as the man ground his hips against her. As he stepped away again, Tanys noticed the huge bulge between his legs and the dampness evident on the taught gray cloth of his trouser front. The princess shuddered as he dragged the tip of one of his blades lightly up the crease of her backside and up her spine. He laughed a dirty sort of laugh.

  Something seemed to change in Anavaiel then, at the sound of the man’s cruel laughter. Something changed in her face, and the tension went out of her narrow shoulders. The princess stared up at Vriene then, unblinking and uncowed.

  Surprise flashed in Vriene’s eyes and he seemed taken aback for a moment.

  Tanys marveled at the sudden show of strength in the girl. Anavaiel stood there, her small breasts rising and falling with slow, even breaths, her hands at her sides, naked and unafraid at last.

  “I think we’ve uncovered something remarkable with our latest cut,” Vriene chuckled, “I think we’ve found the girl’s heart!”

  “Yes,” Tanys agreed, a hint of pride in her voice, “I don’t think she’s afraid of you anymore.”

  Anavaiel’s eyes went to Tanys then
, and a fierce smile flashed on the girl’s lips.

  “I think you’re right,” Vriene agreed. He touched his fingers to his lips in thought for a moment. “Well… we can’t have that… Fuck her.”

  Tanys’s eyes bulged as she stared in horror at the grinning demoniac.

  The ghast warrior laughed again and tossed aside one of Tanys’s knives. It clanged and rattled against the stones of the floor as he used his now free hand to pull his swollen, wet cock from his pants.

  Anavaiel crossed her hands in front of her and staggered backward as the leering man advanced toward her. He ran his tongue along the blade of the knife he still held in his left hand as he fondled himself with his right.

  “If you try to run, I’ll make it hurt,” he said.

  Tanys’s feet hit the floor of the pit with hardly a sound. The scrape of steel on stone a moment later, however, certainly got the man’s attention. He turned, cock in hand, with a confused look on his face to find the raven-haired warrior woman holding the blade he had so recently cast away.

  “You dropped my fucking knife, pigshit,” Tanys growled.

  He recovered quickly from his moment of confusion, parrying Tanys’s strike and then passing his blade to his right hand in one fluid motion. His grin returned as he danced away, his genitals still bouncing free between his legs as he circled her.

  Tanys thrust high, testing his guard, but the ghast warrior only dodged to the right, flicking out his own blade. Tanys twisted her body mid-strike, and his knife cut the air an inch from the tip of her left breast.

  She withdrew a few steps, putting her body between him and the princess. The ghast’s eyes lifted to his master, but Vriene said nothing. The warrior sneered at Tanys, satisfied that he had permission to deal with her as he pleased.

  He was tall for a ghast, so Tanys closed on him slowly, careful of his reach. She watched his body, noting the movements of his feet, watching for anything that would herald an attack. He danced lightly on the balls of his feet, twirling his knife playfully as he stepped close then away again, just as quickly. Tanys saw him shift his weight to his forward knee a moment before he lunged, and she leapt to the side to avoid his attack. She seethed with frustration as he snatched his arm clear of her slashing riposte.

 

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