Chapter 3.2

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I came to as the soldiers were dragging me down the steps. They pulled me up, and slammed me into the wall. Several more times they tripped me or simply pushed me into the stone, until finally dropping me on the cold floor of the torture chamber. I lay there, bleeding and wondering why Lord Guerney even bothered to keep torturers.

"Duke! Jesse! Get yer lazy bones up!" yelled the Captain of the Guard.

The torturer’s apprentice stumbled through a door and pushed greasy hair out of his eyes. "What do ye want?"

"The Lady Laurice has run off, and this monk knows where. Lord Guerney wants to know it by breakfast."

Jesse rubbed his head, looked at me, and frowned. "Duke’s out."

"Where’d he go?"

Jesse shrugged. "With a wench. He’ll be back, soon enough. Her husband is jealous."

"Get to work on this fool as soon as you see him." The Captain hauled me up by my protesting arms and locked my wrists into chains that hung from the ceiling. I was too short for them, and hand to balance on my toes while the iron cut into my wrists. Before the soldiers had all left the room, I could already feel blood trickling down my arms.

Jesse stumbled back to his bed, leaving me to hang, and to await a slow, miserable death because my Lord and my childhood friend could not be bothered to take me with them.

The world is filled with bastards.