Now I was back in the torture chamber, and Damon had had enough of playing nice. The thought of what was coming made my whole body rigid with fear. But there was nothing I could do to halt what was coming, so I would not give him the satisfaction of letting him see my fear. Damon regarded fear as a sign of guilt.
I couldn’t see the fire, but I heard the flames roar to life. The room changed as the flickering light danced across the machines. My father sorted through the different brands and pokers on display on the rack in front of me. Smiling, he selected one in particular, and brought it over to show me.
“What do you think of this one?” he asked, holding it up for me to see. It was newly forged, the metal not yet tarnished with blood. On the end was a detailed brand, a masterpiece of the blacksmith’s art. Damon turned it so I could see the brand. “I had it made recently.”
“An interesting brand,” I said, as I recognized the two crossed swords and the coiled snake. It was the same symbol that appeared on the amulets Tjard and I had found. “Have you had our family crest redesigned? I like it, very subtle.”
“No, not ours.” He said, and walked toward the fire, his voice becoming muffled as he moved across the room. “Lord Benedict is to take a new wife, and this is her family crest. She’s an extremely intelligent and beautiful woman, and well-connected in society. She’s proven to be an invaluable asset to my plans, giving her own men over to me to become new scharfrichters. It is thanks to her that my witch hunt will go ahead on an even larger scale than even I had imagined. But this is a conversation for another time, when you are yourself again, my son. For now …”
The iron touched the skin on my back, just below the bottom of my ribcage. The pain robbed me of breath. My whole body shook, juddering the cross on its supports.
But the sting of the hot metal against my skin was only the beginning. As my father held the rod in place, the heat seemed to burrow deeper inside of me, boiling my blood, tearing my organs to shreds. I gasped for breath, so that I might scream, but I couldn’t expand my chest any more. My body was frozen, the pain had taken it completely.
My vision swam, the room bubbling and swirling as the pain robbed me of sight. The light dancing on the walls shifted, becoming something different, something that moved closer to me. The colours and shapes congealed, becoming a beautiful woman, surrounded by a pale light, her golden hair shimmering like water. She floated toward me, her face leaning closer, her clear eyes boring into mine.
Ada.
The vision was so real, I could feel her breath on my face, her lips resting just inches from mine. The pain become but a dull ache in the background, a thrumming that only intensified my joy at seeing her, and having her only an inch from me. If only I could reach out and touch her. I strained myself to lean forward as far as I could, but the restraints held me tight in place.
“Ulrich,” she whispered, her voice the sweetest song I’d ever heard. “Be strong.”
“Ada!” I cried out.
Ada leaned closer, her lips just brushing mine, the sensation like a spark of light in a dark place. But then…
“Maerwynn?” she cried out.
Behind Ada, I saw the figure of Maerwynn, a stoic expression on her face. She shook her head at me, and stepped closer, her eyes fixed on Ada. She raised her hand, the light glinted off a silver blade—”
“Maerwynn, no!”
“The demon speaks!” Damon said, his voice pulling me back. To my horror, Ada’s vision faded, replaced by the terrifying visage of my father, his expression pleased, as he held the smoking brand in his hands, the tip now clotted with my blood and charred skin.
The pain rushed back, the full force of it hitting my body like an earthquake rolling over me. I thrashed against the restraints, howling as I tried to flee the fire that flared within me. But it was part of me, it was here, it was real.
“Ada,” Barba repeated. “He spoke the word ‘Ada’.”
Damon handed off the brand to the löwe. “That is the name of the witch that enchanted him, I know that much from interrogating the village Elder. It seems that my son is still under her spell. As long as this Ada lives, she exercises control over my son. If I have any hope to get him back, then I must find his woman, and kill her. But thankfully, Ulrich himself has given me the tool to do it. This other name he spoke, Maerwynn. She is the key, I am sure of it. If I find this Maerwynn, then I find Ada, and in her death, the key to my son’s salvation.”
“No!” I cried, despite myself. “Don’t touch her!”
And with those four words, I had doomed Ada to death. Damon looked at me, and nodded, my protests sealing his belief. He would not stop until he had hunted her down. He spoke to the löwe. “Arrange a meeting with the future Lady Benedict,” he said. “She will know something of this Maerwynn.”
Ada
I swam in a void of agony – a desolate place that was without feeling, without light, without love. My eyes searched through the mists, and I knew without knowing that hidden somewhere in this nothingness was Ulrich. He was alive, but trapped in this place between worlds.
I turned around and around, calling out to him, driven onward by some kind of instinct, some animal scent that told me I was on the right trail. The mists swirled all around me, and then, suddenly =… I saw his face. The mists parted, creating a dark hole through which I could peer, and on the other side was Ulrich. My Ulrich. His eyes were dark with pain, his mouth open in a silent scream. I swam towards him, calling his name, pushing through the thick, dark void to reach out to him.
I came right up in front of him, my face only inches from his. Oh, he looked frightful, his naked body crisscrossed with welts and open cuts, his dark hair matted against his scalp, his face drawn and gaunt with horror. As he recognized me, I watched his features change, his locked jaw soften, and his eyes lose some of their darkness. He looked… hopeful.
I tried to touch him, but it was as if some thin, invisible wall separated us. I pressed my lips against the wall, imagining they touched his. Ulrich pursed his cracked lips in return, his eyes swimming with pain as he strained to reach me. But still, we could not touch.
“Ulrich, be strong.” I whispered, tears welling in my eyes. His gaze bore into mine, his eyes flicking with agony. He was so close to the edge, so close to giving up.
I felt a presence over my shoulder. My blood ran cold. I don’t know how I knew it, but whoever was behind me did not wish me good. I tore my eyes from Ulrich, and turned, my stomach churning with fear.
I saw the blade first, the glint of silver held aloft, the sharp point directed at my heart. And then I saw who held the blade, her face cold, determined.
Maerwynn.
“No!” I held up my hands to shield myself. Behind me, Ulrich cried out. Maerwynn’s face never changed, her eyes never leaving mine, as she brought the blade down—
Light blinded me. I grew dimly aware of hands on my shoulders, shaking me. Someone poured water over my face, but I turned away. I did not wish to drink. I wanted only to fade away, to be with Ulrich once more. Where was Maerwynn? Where was the blade? Was it inside me? Was I dead?
“Ada, sweetheart.” It was Aunt Aubrey. “You were having a bad dream. Ada, please open your eyes.”
A dream. I kept my eyes closed, as it all flooded back to me. I was alive, but Ulrich was dead. I wouldn’t find him in the void, or in any other place. He’s gone forever. I sank back into the furs, rolling away from my aunts and pulling the deerskin over my head as fresh tears wet my face.
“You say she hasn’t moved from this bed in four days?” It was Maerwynn. Her voice sounded flat, emotionless.
“She won’t eat, either.” Aubrey’s voice, faint and wavering. ”I am so worried. None of my potions have worked.”
“I’ve seen the way you look at her, Maerwynn.” Bernadine said. “There is something you have not told us. You will tell us now. Just because you are leader of this coven does not mean I won’t strangle you with my—”
“You don’t need to thre
aten me. Ada is heartbroken, because Ulrich is dead,” said Maerwynn. Those words reverberated through the void. Dead, dead, dead. Maybe the dream was a prophecy. Maybe I would soon be dead also, and we would be together again...
“What?” Bernadine growled.
“Ada and I scryed for him four nights ago—”
“You taught Ada to scry?” Bernadine raged.
“Someone has to help that child unlock her powers,” Maerwynn replied. “The two of you have been more than useless. I cannot believe Ysmay trusted her into your care, for you have failed in your duties as guardians of your coven. You will be lucky if the last of your magic doesn’t die with her.”
“I cannot believe you would go behind our back like this. Ada has no control over her magic. When scrying she could damage—”
“She damaged nothing. The important thing is that we saw Ulrich in a dungeon. He approached a man with his sword drawn – I imagine it was his father, for they had a similar appearance – and they had a fight. But several other men came up behind him, and cut the witch hunter down. Ulrich will not be returning.”
“Is this true, Ada?” Aunt Aubrey asked, her voice tight.
I could not bring myself to utter the words. A strangled sob escaped my throat. Aunt Aubrey placed her hand on my shoulder and squeezed it tight.
“Then Ada must go to the village,” said Bernadine. “There is no longer any reason for her to shirk her duty to her family.”
Go to the village? At first I did not understand the reason for this sudden order. But then it dawned on me. Of course. The curse.
My beloved had died, and Aunt Bernadine expects me to lie with another man?
“No!” I yelled, my stomach churning. The thought of touching anyone else after Ulrich made bile rise in my throat.
“Ada, you listen to me—” Bernadine growled.
“No, you listen to me!” I screamed, throwing off the covers and glaring at the all. Aunt Aubrey shrunk away, her expression aching with pain when she saw my face. “I don’t care about the stupid curse. I hope we all lose our powers, because so far they’ve bought me nothing but misery. Now get out! I’m sick of the sight of you.”
“Impossible child!” Bernadine lunged at me, her mouth twisted into a horrid scowl, her hands raised like talons, as if she intended to claw me. Aubrey grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet. Without a word, Aubrey dragged a struggling Bernadine through the door.
Maerwynn paused at the door, her grey eyes burning into mine. “I am sorry,” she said, the words loaded with meanings I could not possibly comprehend. Then she too, left me alone with my grief.
Ulrich
Days faded in to each other, a never-ending ocean of agony that ebbed and flowed in great tides. My father had ceased working on me in the torture chamber. He saw no use in breaking my body, when he knew that as soon as he cleansed me of the demon, he would find me at his side once more. I didn’t bother to correct him. There was not much use talking to the righteous. Instead, he had his löwe use different techniques to keep me subdued. I knew them all well, but that didn’t stop me from succumbing to their horror.
Barba kept me locked in a dark room so small I could only stand upright. He left me there for hours on end. When I emerged my legs were so sore I could not move them. He starved me for days and then gave me a fine, rich meal – roasted pheasant, or pork stuffed with truffles and cheese – and even though I knew what would happen I was so far gone that I just gobbled it up, and for hours afterward would lie prone in a bed of my own excrement as my stomach purged itself of my overindulgence.
Through it all, Ada’s face hovered ever above my body, her kind eyes shining down on me. I felt her touch, as real as the pain that scoured my body, caressing my arms, ravishing my lips. She kept me alive, she drew me into the darkness of my own heart, where I found what little solace and strength I had remaining.
I lay on my back in the cell, my legs propped up against the wall, staring at the ceiling as strange colours swam in front of my eyes. I couldn’t tell if it was the hunger or the darkness that was messing with my vision, or if I were simply going mad from the pain. Maybe I’ll see another image of Ada, I thought, watching red dots and swirls move across my irises. To see her beautiful face again would make all of this worthwhile.
I heard footsteps in the hall. I didn’t bother to rise from my position, for they would soon yank me to my feet anyway, and I was now too weak to stand under my own weight. My whole body tensed as the footsteps stopped outside my cell. I wondered what horror awaited me today. How much more would I be able to endure?
“You have a visitor,” Barba said, as he unlocked the door to my cell and ushered a cloaked figure inside. Dimly I thought to attempt to overpower him and make a move for the door, but my limbs were too weak to move. I continued to lay where I was, watching the red blobs swim across the figure’s face.
I heard the door of the cell slam shut, and Barba’s footsteps echo down the passage. The visitor did not speak, nor did he remove his hood.
After several moments of silence, curiosity got the better of me. “I’ve not many friends in these parts,” I croaked out through cracked lips.
“Who said I was a friend?” The hood spoke. A female voice. The figure raised her hands and removed the hood from her face, revealing a cruel, cold face and a head of shining black curls.
Clarissa.
I was too stunned to react, so I stared at her dumbly.
She laughed. “Why, the great Witch Hunter lies before me, utterly silent? What is the matter, Ulrich? Has Daddy pulled out your tongue? Don’t you just love the justice of it? If only he knew how horrifying this would be to the witch population of Europe. I imagine many of your father’s favourite victims have also been the victims of that slithering, pleasuring tongue of yours.”
“You,” I finally managed to croak. “You.”
“Yes, dear.” She patted my head, her fingers felt like ice against my burning skin. “Your witch’s little fire spell didn’t kill me. In fact, it faded quite quickly as soon as you moved away. She really needs to work on her abilities, or she’ll be no use to anyone. Not that she’s any use to you now.”
“What are you doing here, Clarissa?” I managed to choke out. “Did you come to gloat over my state?”
“Oh, nothing as petty and small minded as that.” Clarissa waved a delicate hand away.
“If you’re here to kill me, then hurry up about it.” I lifted my arms above my head. “As you can see, I’m in no state to fight you. In fact, you’d be doing me a favour if you just snuffed me out now.”
Clarissa laughed, her high-pitched voice shrill with mania. “Kill you? Oh dear Ulrich. I don’t want to kill you. I came here to teach you a lesson, of course, but killing you would spoil all my fun. In fact, I didn’t come here for you at all. It seems your father is in need of certain information, which I can provide him in exchange for certain favours of my own.”
“I don’t follow you.”
She laughed again, her tinkling laughter chilling my just as much as my father’s calm face. “You don’t? Funny, I never took you for a simpleton. But perhaps all this doom and gloom has rotted your mind, so I shall explain it all to you, very slowly. After you left me behind so cruelly in that clearing, I realized that you didn’t take your promise as seriously as you should. So I decided to follow you.” Clarissa held up her hand, and I could clearly see the dark scar across her palm from our oath. “After all, I couldn’t allow my husband to disappear on me, could I?”
“I’m not your husband.”
“Oh,” Clarissa grabbed my wrist and raised my hand into the light. Even through my pain-soaked vision I could see the scar across my palm. “But according to magical lore, the only lore that matters, you are. And I intend to have you believe it. I’ve been waiting for the perfect chance to remind you about the importance of being faithful, but I believe Bernadine’s oath has done that for me. All that’s left now is the little matter of your witch. While she
lives, you and I will never had the relationship that I truly desire. But luckily, between your father and I, we should have it sorted out.”
“My father?” Something he’d said earlier was tugging at me mind, but I was too tired, too sick to put it together. “He would have nothing to do with a gypsy whore like you.”
“I’d be careful about addressing me in that tone,” Clarissa said, holding her nose in the air. “That is no way to talk to the most powerful Lady in the land.”
“You’re … Lady Benedict? But how?”
“Oh, I’ve been planning this for years,” Clarissa said. “While you and Tjard have been fucking witches and freeing whores, I’ve been secretly putting in place everything I needed. All it took was some stashed clothing and jewels stolen from your more wealthy victims, a few well-placed favours in the nobility, and a few men willing to die for me, and here I am.” She twirled around, and as the folds of fabric fanned out I saw that beneath her dark cloak she wore a fine dress woven with gold thread. The hem of her skirt had been elaborately stitched with a detailed repeating pattern – the crest I was starting to see everywhere: the two swords, and the snake.
“You’re mad,” I whispered, partly in fear, partly in awe. How had she done this? How had she built up the tools to impersonate a noblewoman right under my nose? How had she seduced the most powerful Lord in the land? And why? What was she planning? How did I factor into it?
“Oh no.” Clarissa snapped her fingers, and Barba appeared on the cell door. He swung the door open, and Clarissa slipped through. “I am blissfully sane. And now, Ulrich, I must leave you. I’ve come to speak with your father, you see. I’ve heard that he’s looking for a witch named Maerwynn, as he believes she is harbouring your Ada. And I happen to know just where this Maerwynn is hiding. Damon of Donau-Ries won’t just get the woman who corrupted his son, but he’ll be able to capture several of the world’s most notorious witches into the bargain. What price do you suppose he’ll pay for that information?”
Coven: a dark medieval paranormal romance (Witches of the Woods Book 2) Page 16