Chapter 6.8

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My limp, battered form was dragged into the Great Hall where all the castle folk waited to eat. I was the pre-dinner entertainment. Sharp, sitting at the foot of the Lord’s own table, grinned at my wretchedness. The Lady Victoria could not take her gaze from my bare feet, her expression one of recognition and horror. Elise, serving at the edge of the room, set down her tray and looked at if she might cry. Lord Guerney heaved his bulk from his chair and stepped down to stand in front of me.

"So, are we now what we appear to be?" He laughed.

Just like your daughter? I vomited blood at his feet.

"Excellent. Go back to room and pack – I’ll have my answer to Lord Reinard sent there before much longer. You can leave straight away."

And be on the road in the winter darkness, prey for the wolves and the Silver-eyed. Not even my Lord Reinard deserved such a man for a father-in-law.

Chapter 6.7

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"Enough screaming," the old man said. I was aware that the younger man was back in the room. "You’re fainted now."

I was grateful. My throat was sore from this command performance, which had been encouraged by a red hot poker held uncomfortably close to my fingers.

The younger man held up a blackish slab of flesh. "Fresh cut, even. He must have owed you a big winning."

"I caught him with the Miller’s daughter."

But I thought she was..." The younger man shook his head. He held up a bladder. "And he sent some fresh blood, too."

"Good." The old man took the bladder, then forced its sour contents into my mouth. I swallowed a good bit, but the rest splashed out onto my face and clothes. He chuckled. "Excellant. Couldn’t have done a better job myself."

Chapter 6.6

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I struggled as they forced me out of the hall, through the rain-soaked back gardens, and down a stairway cut into the mountainside. In a rough-cut room, dimly lit by smouldering torches and ringed by barred cells, they chained me to a table. Iron rings cut into my ankles and wrists as I strained against them.

"Lively one, aren’t you," muttered the Captain.

Two men rose from a bench at the side of the room. One was grizzled and balding, with sunken cheeks where he had no teeth. The other was young, probably an apprentice. Both wore leather aprons and high boots, and they stank of old blood and offal.

"What’s this?" asked the older man.

The Captain jerked his thumb at me. "His Lordship wants his tongue."

"What does he want to know?"

"Nothing. Just take his tongue and be quick about it."

The old man shook his head. "I don’t like no audience. I’ll send for you when I’m finished."

The Captain stared at him; the old man stared back, arms crossed. Finally the Captain turned and left, taking the other soldiers with him.

"Well, now," the old man said, slapping his hands together. "We’ve got work to do. Jesse, get those irons on the fire."

The stench of smoke, the sizzle of iron on the coals, the clank of tools by my head – it all brought back bad memories. The old man tightened leather straps on my face, and forced my mouth open. Then he paused, and brought the lamp closer.

"What’s this?" he said, poking inside my mouth with a stick.

If he couldn’t see for himself, I certainly couldn’t tell him.

The younger man peered in. "That’s a problem. Should we take what’s left?"

No, by all the gods. No.

"Nothin’ to gain by it." The old man tapped his stick on the table by my ear. "If his Lordship wants to see a tongue, he’ll want to see all of it. Tell you what – run over to the butchery and tell Elias I need a pig’s tongue, and it’ll make us even for last weekend. If’n he stays silent."

Then he leaned over my face. "And you better stay silent, too."

"Who’s he going to tell?" asked the younger man.

The old man shrugged. "If his Lordship finds out about this, it’ll be the pear for all of us."
I felt the blood run out of my face at that, and the young man whitened. He left without further comment.

Chapter 6.5

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On the way to the great hall, I was pushed into walls and tripped no fewer than seven times. Finally, bruised and bleeding, I was presented to Lord Guerney, who sprawled in his massive chair. “He didn’t come peacefully?”

“We found Sharp the Bard bound in his room. This dog intended violence to the man.”

Why would I intend that? The child had only tried to kill me.

“Well, then,” Lord Guerney huffed. “So it seems that you are not at all what you seem. Are you a spy?”

I shook my head.

“A spy, yes. But for who? Not Lord Reinard. My dear friend would never be so base as to send a spy into my castle. No, he must believe that you are as dumb as you act – and therefore won’t be insulted if I put truth into that dull fiction.” He looked at my keepers. “Take this man below and have his tongue ripped out.”

That bastard.