by Phil Parker
‘This man is a spy, my lady. And a traitor, he is of the Fae but he chooses to spy for the humans. The worst part is that I even trained the swine, he was one of my Trooping Fairies.’
I felt Taranis’s eyes watching me, and I knew why. My mind raced as I tried to decide how to react, in the end, there was only one way.
I let rip.
‘What you are doing to this poor man is inexcusable. How dare you treat another person in such a way. And how dare you force me to witness such mindless violence. Is this likely to be common when we are married Taranis? Will you bring me down here to your torture chamber to show me your latest victim?’
The grin widened. If I’d been a man I’d have punched him and not cared about the consequences.
‘So you are not concerned we have a spy in our midst, my lady?’
I stepped forward, determined not to react like a frightened girl, so I could look at the man in front of me. His eyes focused on me, I saw rage and something else, though I didn’t know what it could be.
‘My lord,’ I spat, ‘I am more concerned that the stories of cruelty we hear amongst humans do not compare to the pain and degradation you are visiting on this poor man. I insist you stop it instantly.’
The last sentence escaped before I realised I’d spoken the words and I knew I’d issued him a challenge, one he’d ignore, which would leave me in a weak position. I cursed myself for letting my heart rule my head. So when he replied, he surprised me again.
‘Of course, my lady.’ He paused to take in my reaction, I couldn’t hide my surprise and it made his grin widen. ‘However, there is one condition.’
His comment in the corridor made sense suddenly. Events had turned out perfectly for this bastard, events which wrecked all my plans. I kept my expression neutral.
‘This man’s lover is a friend of yours. Or of your grandmother’s I should say. He is the author of the libellous document I mentioned.’
He paused, if he waited for my admission of guilt, he would wait a long time. When I didn’t reply he continued, his resentment obvious in the set of his mouth.
‘Therefore, I will cease my scientific experiments on this man if another document is published establishing my honour and integrity, stating the previous work to be an act of spite and jealousy, along with a complete and full apology. Until that document is in my hands and readily available to the population, this man will continue to experience the rigours of my experiments.’
I looked from one pair of eyes to another; from Taranis’s gloating satisfaction to the wild, rage-filled agony of the man on the bed frame. I wanted to cry, to scream, to free this man and release him from his torment but I could do none of them.
‘I will approach the gentleman and inform him of your conditions. The fact you deem it necessary to use a person’s life as a bargaining tool horrifies me beyond words.’
He watched me without expression.
‘Tell me, my lord, what happens when I announce your unscrupulous use of torture?’
He must have expected my question because he arched one perfect eyebrow and didn’t pause in his reply.
‘My research is bringing substantial benefits to our people. When they learn that a baby has been born as a result of my scientific research, they will hail me a hero. My attempts to uncover what the treacherous humans are doing now, from this traitor, will only prompt further praise. The information I extract from this man might even prevent another war.’
The grin returned.
‘So make your choice, my lady. Make your discovery public and you will counter the insults and character assassination of your friend’s document wonderfully.’
I turned and made for the door but he hadn’t finished.
‘By the way, my lady, how is Sibeal? I hope, once the baby is born, she will decide to return to me, as her husband?’
I turned so quickly I hadn’t hidden the shock on my face, he spotted it and that grin widened still further so that he flashed perfect teeth.
‘Didn’t she tell you we were married? It must have been down to the suddenness of her departure and the medication I provided to maintain her health, factors which placed that precious specimen in her womb in considerable danger. I wonder how the public will respond to that news?’
My brain whirled.
‘If you already have a wife, my lord, why are you preparing to marry me?’
‘Very simply, my lady. I had been told my wife had died during the abduction, I kept my grief very private. You can imagine my surprise when I learned she had been abducted by the woman who was eager to marry me herself. What the public will make of that?’
I strode out of the torture chamber with that man’s laughter echoing along the corridor that took an eternity to escape.
Chapter 11
Every cell in my body screamed its torment, Taranis’ drug left me inhabiting a new world where pain was everything and everywhere.
Eventually, I don’t know how long, my voice turned into a hoarse croak, making me a silent hostage, unable to beg anyone to end the torment. I learned quickly that the stuff Taranis pumped into me reacted to my emotions, they fuelled my pain, not the drug. When fear threatened to overwhelm me, or the fury I felt for Taranis took control, my body ignited the purest form of agony I had ever known. I drove Puck into a dungeon in the darkest depths of my brain so his primal responses didn’t make the torture worse. What spooked me the ease with which I did it. He was his own master, yet he made no effort to appear, to fight the battle I was waging. Taranis had talked about harnessing my demon, turning me into a nice man, it made no sense that he could undo the damage he’d caused for my younger self. Taranis didn’t do philanthropic. His motives centred around making him more powerful and that worried me just as much.
I was left fighting a battle within myself. Anger is a natural reaction to torture but I had to fight it, not easy when every spasm, convulsion and seizure triggered greater fury. Every form of misery Taranis visited on me involved repressing the body’s natural need to react, no matter what he did to me, whether it was invasive or humiliating, I fought it. I knew if I failed in this battle, I would die, I couldn’t allow Taranis that satisfaction. I’m a stubborn bastard in that way. So with each new abuse forced myself to stay calm.
Self-control has never been one of my natural attributes, but I developed it. Oh boy, did I develop it. Repressing your emotions is like holding back water with a dam, without a sluice gate, water spills over and floods everywhere and kills thousands. The bastard didn’t need to inflict enormous pain on my physical body, a slice here, an insertion up there, that was all he needed. Each time the flood waters got a little higher and I knew, when they reached the top, the wall wouldn’t withstand the pressure. It would crumble, like my sanity.
I’ve always been a fighter, inside my head a tiny part kept telling the rest of me that this was just another battle. It kept me alive, moving from one battle to another in a war I fought against myself. The abuse of my body might have stopped for a time, I wasn’t certain, time was meaningless in this new world I inhabited, the world beyond my body was irrelevant. I was vaguely aware of others around me from time to time, mostly the young man who met my few physical needs. He would vanish when Taranis returned for more fun and return when I was left alone to deal with it. I thought a young woman stood over me at one point but it could have been an hallucination, my brain liked to generate them as a way to deal with my host’s unique brand of sadism.
I became aware of movement. Pain flared in every part of me. Taranis was using new playthings. I cursed him, without any emotion of course, though I had no idea if my words were said aloud or just in my head. I thought I was being carried, my arms held my weight and after so long tied in one position acid coursed through the muscle tissue. My feet touched cold stone and it felt good, the rest of my body was permanently on fire so the cool floor and movement of air were the signs telling me I was being moved. Taranis was moving me to another location. The alternativ
e was another hallucination, even though the physical sensations felt real enough, I’d stopped believing them. Pain kept flaring as my body was shifted into new positions and I lost consciousness quite often, I looked forward to those moments, they were a release. Death was the ultimate version but I was determined not to provide anyone with that satisfaction. I was a fighter.
I woke amidst darkness and the smell of damp and mould. The pain had lost some of its edge, rather than it being all-pervading, it centred on certain parts of my body. I groaned and a cold hand clamped across my mouth, at any other time I’d have fought back but I guessed this was a new type of torture in a new environment, there was no point in fighting.
‘What shall we do?’
It was no more than a faint whisper, hardly discernible, this hallucination had sound effects.
‘Wait. They’ll be gone in a few minutes.’
‘But he needs help, he’s lost so much blood.’
It had to be the young nurse speaking though the other voice sounded vaguely familiar. I didn’t care, my limbs felt so heavy they were lead weights. My head was worse, it was about to fall off my shoulders, I’d never find it again in this darkness but I wasn’t sorry, I could lose Puck that way. The roaring sound in my ears took over and darkness consumed me.
I woke. I rode a strange horse. Spread-eagled across a wide back that rocked from side to side as we moved through darkness. The air was cool and smelled differently. I was tied to my strange horse, ropes wound around my chest and underneath my armpits, they hurt but not as much as the pain elsewhere, especially in my head. My weakness left me feeling that I’d turned to water and I’d slip through my strange saddle, the horse would get wet. Perhaps that was why it stumbled.
‘Careful!’ I heard someone call out.
The jolt caused so many parts of my body to complain at once that I had to repress the anger as a matter of urgency. Except the effort was too great.
I fell down a deep, black hole.
I woke again. A glass of water stood on a small table when I opened my eyes. It sparkled in the light peeping from behind curtains. It looked cool, inviting. I was thirsty. I reached out and pain lanced through me, I dropped my arm back to my side and realised it had been put there to torture me. Taranis had chosen a new approach, he wanted to weaken my resolve. Exhaustion claimed as its own, I couldn’t last any longer. I had vague memories of welcoming death once before, I’d been exhausted beyond belief then. I welcomed it now, told it to reach out and take me.
With that knowledge, I fell asleep.
When I opened my eyes they met with another pair, chocolate in colour.
‘Hello, sleepy head.’
I felt heavy. My head, my limbs, my eyelids.
‘Water.’
I vaguely remembered the drink and hoped I’d be granted a sip by the nurse. I felt the glass against my lips, sipped the water and felt it trickle through my dry mouth and down my parched throat. I had never tasted anything so good. The glass moved from my lips.
‘More. Please. Please.’
The glass returned instantly, I swallowed more water, like water on desert sand it disappeared. It ran down my chin and it felt good, cooling. I let myself groan with satisfaction.
‘Steady. Don’t overdo it. You’ll be sick.’
The glass moved away again and I moaned and whimpered but a moment later it returned and I drank more. My thirst eased. I tried to open my eyes, the face was still there, filled with concern.
‘Thank you.’
My eyelids collapsed. I felt a hand pat my arm. Sleep took over.
The next time I woke pain was more localised, movement was next to impossible so when I tried to shift my legs, my head ached like a herd of animals had stampeded through it. The room was in darkness but I could see the outline of someone in a chair by the side of my bed. The glass of water was in the same place and I tried to reach for it, there was pain but nothing as bad as before, grasping was another problem entirely. My hand shook as I placed my fingers around its smooth surface and I grunted with the effort, it woke the nurse.
He was on his feet in a second, ready to whisk it away from me I was sure. Instead he held it up to my mouth and I drank every drop. I sighed with satisfaction. He poured more water into the glass from a nearby pitcher and held it up to my mouth again. After finishing it off he lit a taper and brought it to the table. In its guttering light I saw his face.
‘Luke!’
He smiled. ‘You recognise me at last. Don’t try to talk. Save your strength. I’ve got some small pieces of meat and cheese if you think you can eat them? Are you hungry?’
I was. The mention of it made my stomach churn and gurgle. Slowly, I managed to finish off the morsels of food. After another drink I looked around the small room, bewildered. The other man smiled again.
‘It’s a long story. We’re not safe by any means. But we couldn’t travel any further with you in the state you were in. I don’t know how you’ve survived.’
Neither did I. Death, it appeared, didn’t want to claim me.
‘We’re in hiding until we can work out how to get further away. Your aristocratic friend has gone to a coronation but he’s expected back soon and when he realises you’re gone, he’s going to be angry and come looking for you.’
I nodded. It was a mistake. It hurt.
‘How do you feel? Strong enough to travel?’
It was clear in his tone. It wasn’t so much a question, more a gentle hint. I nodded.
‘Good. Arrangements are being made. In the meantime, get some sleep.’
I wasn’t going to argue with that instruction, I closed my eyes and remembered nothing until I was gently shaken awake. I looked up into the large round eyes of the young nurse and I panicked. I’d been captured, I was going to be subjected to more torture. I flailed and went to scream but a cool hand covered my mouth. Luke’s face appeared in my line of vision.
‘Robin, you’re safe. It’s OK. This is Cori. He’s helping us. Don’t be afraid.’
I took a couple of deep breaths, the sudden burst of fear alerted my brain to reactions it had been denied. Pain blossomed, though not as profoundly as before. The world around me wobbled and I grabbed hold of my bed.
‘We need to keep him calm. The residue of the drug will still cause him intense pain.’
‘That’s not going to be easy.’
I recognised the voice, even though I couldn’t see the speaker; Mahon.
Luke moved closer, smiling reassurance.
‘Listen Robin, we think we’ve got a way to get us away from here but it means you having to do some acting. Are you up for it?’
I blinked my confusion and his smile relaxed slightly.
‘You’re going to be a corpse. Cori has painted your body to make you look like you’ve got a disease that’s common around here. We’re going to be disguised as pall bearers, they cover themselves up so they don’t catch the disease. The main thing is you mustn’t move, try not to breathe if they examine you. OK?’
I nodded.
I heard Cori clear his throat.
‘He’s still in pain. Sudden movement is going to hurt him, he might groan even though he’s trying hard to stay silent. We’ll need to keep the bier level and not jolt it.’
From nearby, Mahon’s voice.
‘That won’t be easy if we’re running.’
Luke turned his head towards the big man.
‘If we’re running it won’t matter, it means the disguise hasn’t worked.’
The young nurse stood over me, his petite features looked anxious, his skin was pale and he looked tired.
‘I’ve given you a sedative, to help you stay relaxed, hopefully you’ll sleep. The main thing is, just look dead, otherwise that’s what we’ll all be if his lordship captures us.’ He looked at the others. ‘And it won’t be a nice death either.’
Mahon stepped into view, his enormous shoulders and head hovered over me.
‘This is going to hurt.’ His
tone suggested he wasn’t all that concerned.
He picked me up like so much laundry and placed me onto a stretcher laid on the floor by my bed. He was right, it did hurt but I controlled the need to let out a scream and bit my lip and balled my fists until the pain eased.
Cori draped a cotton sheet over me, thin enough that I could see through it and without any warning the bier was lifted up into the air, Luke at my feet and Mahon behind me. It was dark outside, though dawn was approaching, with deep purples and mauves; there had been a time when I thought I’d never see another dawn, I felt tears burn my eyes and dismissed the whole thing as ridiculous, we still weren’t safe, not by any means.
The rhythmic swinging of the bier, as we moved through the narrow alleys of the shantytown was strangely soothing, though it might have been the sedative. My eyes grew heavy despite my best efforts. I woke when I heard Mahon’s rumbling whisper.
‘There are more guards at the gate than usual. They’re searching for us.’
The tension in the young nurse’s voice could be heard in his clipped tone.
‘So shut up and leave this to me. Don’t say a word, either of you. If they take your masks off your face, look stupid. This isn’t a job that needs intelligence.’
I saw him lean over my body.
‘Are you all right?’
‘Fine,’ I managed to whisper.
I could see stone walls loom up on either side of us, silhouetted against a sky slowly turning to a dark pink. We stepped forward and a gruff voice ordered us to stop.
‘What we got here?’ The short-tongued lisp of a boggart.
‘A corpse. Swamp fever. A bad case too.’
Someone gasped.
‘Can you catch it?’ The boggart again.
Another boggart, with a deeper, authoritative voice. ‘Of course you fucking can. Why do you think they’ve got masks?’