Chapter 7: Chapter 7

When she woke next, she was still on the horse with Mandalay at her back. The rain continued to hammer upon her head. The streets were gloomy.

A strange mist hovered over the town. People stopped to watch them trot by. Lilitha sat frozen in her saddle, shaking so badly Mandalay had to hold her in her seat.

With a grimace, she gave in and reached for his cloak.

“There, now. It’s about time you saw sense,” he said.

He drew his cloak around her, holding her tightly with his left arm. The other held the reins. He was murmuring things in her ear—but Lilitha couldn’t understand them.

Cold and weak, senseless in his arms, Lilitha didn’t fight him.

She must have fallen asleep again, because she suddenly found herself in the town square, the cathedral looming above. She stiffened against Mandalay’s arm.

The town dungeon lay just ahead.

They halted before the courtyard’s tall gates, and a Champion called for admittance. A hatch in the door opened, revealing a man’s face bathed in lantern light.

He peered at them briefly before latching it shut again. The gates opened with a groan.

Inside was a sprawling training yard: a fighting arena, archery targets, a muddy racing circuit, training weapons discarded on the ground. A couple of jousting dummies sagged on their posts.

The Champions pulled their mounts to a stop at the rear of the cathedral.

The horse shifted as Mandalay dismounted, and Lilitha began shivering again away from his warmth. She tried to get down, but her muscles were no longer at her command.

All she could do was slump in Mandalay’s arms as he pulled her to the ground.

The entrance to the dungeon was an iron door with a heavy bolt. Two Champions hauled it open, revealing a dim glow trailing down narrow stone steps.

Mandalay clutched her tightly to his side and half-carried, half-dragged her into the depths.

Down below, Lilitha squinted against the sharp light of the torches flickering in their brackets. There were several iron doors, each with a small, barred window.

From behind the windows came the faint stirrings of life. Four guards stood to attention, their card game abandoned. They looked at one another in surprise at the sight of Mandalay’s battered figure.

Embarrassed, he squeezed Lilitha’s wrist until she cried out.

“We have another prisoner. See her to her cell but don’t try anything funny. She’s as slippery as an oily rat. Besides, she’s mine. Got it?”

They nodded. Lilitha gasped as Mandalay slowly pulled her head back by her dripping hair, forcing her to look up at him.

He peered down at her, his one eye glinting in the flickering light, breath hot on her face, strong fingers sitting lightly against her throat.

He gave her an odd look, as though unable to figure something out. Shaking his head, he released her in disgust. Sneering at the guards, he climbed back up the stairs, the door booming shut behind him.

With a jangle, one of the guards took a large ring of keys from his belt. Another seized her elbow and hauled her over to one of the cells. The other two guards trailed behind.

“What’s wrong with Mandalay, do you think?” one of them said.

“I don’t know. Maybe the knife pierced his brain.”

“Maybe this is the one he’s so obsessed with. The one that took his eye. Didn’t he say he was going to go and look for her?”

Lilitha felt his eyes brush against the back of her bowed head.

Opening the door, they shoved her inside. The door closed behind her, shutting out all but a sliver of light. Except for the sound of light snoring, it was quiet and still.

Several figures were slumped at odd angles on the straw. Most were asleep. Two, however, were awake. One of them peered up at her with achingly familiar eyes.

Clara leapt to her feet with a shout and flew into her arms. Lilitha tried to hold her but sagged beneath her weight.

“What’s wrong?” Clara asked, gripping her shoulders.

Darkness clawed at the edges of Lilitha’s vision as she sank to the floor. “Tired. Thirsty. Hungry.” She clutched at her chest as the air wheezed in her lungs.

“Here.” Clara raced away to the corner of the cell and brought over a dish of water. She also pulled out a hunk of bread from a pocket in her skirt. “That was for me but you can have it.”

Lilitha reached out for it with her bound hands and pushed it into her mouth. It was tiring to chew. It ~hurt~ to chew. She leaned her head against the wall as Clara undid the rope from around her wrists.

Lilitha gulped down the water. When she was done, she seized Clara’s arm. “Are you okay? Did he…did he…?” She couldn’t even say the words.

Clara shook her head. “They took me and just left me here.”

Lilitha fell back against the wall. “Thank God. ~Thank God~.”

Clara gave Lilitha an impressed smile. “Too busy with you, I think. Did you ~really~ stab him in the eye?”

Lilitha nodded.

“The guards have been talking about it. That’s ~all~ they’ve been talking about.” She twisted her mouth. “I hate that you were caught.”

“It was stupid,” Lilitha said. “~I~ was stupid.”

Clara sat down beside her with a sigh, leaning her head alongside Lilitha’s. They gripped each other’s hands.

Lilitha closed her eyes.

They stuck by each other’s side for the rest of the day and deep into the night. The other prisoners kept their distance.

Five of them in all, they ranged from the young to the middle-aged to an old, humped woman who could barely get to her feet. Lilitha didn’t recognize any of them.

As to why they were there, they kept their secrets to themselves.

Through the walls on either side of their little cell came the deep voices of the male prisoners. The guards outside were playing with their cards. Other than that, it was quiet.

The floor was hard against her backside but at least her hands were no longer shaking—and she had Clara.

And that was all she really needed.

The calm didn’t last long. Lilitha was resting on the floor when she jerked her eyes open at the loud clunk and groan of the dungeon door opening. It closed with a boom. Footsteps descended.

“I brought in a prisoner yesterday. Where is she?” came Mandalay’s voice.

Lilitha jerked upright. Clara did the same. They glanced at each other.

“We don’t know, sir. None of us was on duty.”

“Fine!” he snapped. “Then we will search the female cells one by one.”

The jangle of keys and harassed footsteps followed as they approached a cell further up. The door groaned.

“Shut it! Next one!” Mandalay snarled.

Lilitha and Clara backed into the far corner.

Closer still, another door opened. “Again! Next!”

Clara pushed her further into the shadows, shoved her to the floor and heaped straw all over her. Just as Mandalay’s face peered through the barred window, she sat on top of her.

The other prisoners were trying to keep away, heads down, staying as quiet as possible. The child whimpered.

“Open it!”

The lock caught, and the door swung wide. Mandalay stepped inside, sweeping his torch across the cell, chasing away the shadows. The women winced and looked away.

He stopped in front of Clara’s huddled form and lowered the light, casting its glow upon the hillock of straw. He spotted Lilitha instantly.

“Here!” he said, handing the torch over.

“Leave her alone!” Clara screamed.

Mandalay flung her aside. He plunged his hand into the straw. Lilitha scrabbled at his arm but his strength was astounding as he dragged her to her feet and yanked her out the door.

The guard latched it behind them. She could hear Clara screaming. Four guards eyed Lilitha curiously within the brightness of the outer room.

“Bring the light,” Mandalay ordered.

Gripping the front of her tunic, Mandalay dragged her stumbling down the row of cells. He stopped at the last one and pushed open the door. Unoccupied, it contained bedding and a bundle of cushions.

“No!” Lilitha cried.

She tried to grip onto the doorframe, knowing exactly what he wanted. He ripped her away then shoved her inside. Staggering, she tripped over her feet and slammed against the wall. She sagged to the floor.

The Champion placed the torch into its bracket, then left. Mandalay threw the door shut behind him. Slumping against it, he pressed his forehead against the cold iron.

The back of his golden head gleamed against the light; the polished handle of his sword shone at his hip.

Lilitha pulled herself into the corner, keeping to the shadows as much as possible, skirts pulled far over her legs. She wished she had her hood. She wished she had her cloak.

She felt naked. She felt dirty. She couldn’t be in the same room with him.

Not again.

He stood there for several moments, unmoving, his big shoulders rising and falling with every breath. Then he finally turned.

He glared at her with his one blue eye, then dragged a tired hand down his face. Dried blood surrounded his eye patch. He started to pace, boots thudding dully on the straw.

All Lilitha could do was breathe.

After several passes, he stopped and folded his arms. “You’re a queer one, that’s for sure. You’re not my type at all. Small, scrawny, plain. And yet I can’t get you out of my mind.”

He spat on the floor. “I should hate you for what you’ve done. I should want to destroy you.”

He glared at her. Lilitha kept her eyes averted. He stormed over, seizing her throat. She grabbed at his wrist as he slowly pulled her to her feet.

“Why is that? ~Tell me~.” He squeezed his fist and Lilitha choked. “Perhaps you are a witch. You and your pretty friend.” He released her and Lilitha slumped against the wall, gasping.

His blue eye shone as it twitched over her face. His breath was ragged and panting. He was so close she could smell the liquor on his breath.

She jerked back as he slid a hand behind her neck. Pulling her close, he kissed her.

Lilitha could do nothing as he wrapped his arms around her so tightly she could hardly move. Then he began shoving her toward the bed.

She toppled into it and Mandalay climbed in after her. Grabbing her hips, he flipped her onto her belly.

“No,” she gasped as he shoved up her skirts and yanked down her underwear.

Then he stopped. It became quiet. All she could hear was her pounding heart and his panting breaths. Miraculously, she felt him pull away.

Twisting around, Lilitha pulled up her underwear and fixed her skirts. Scrambling to her feet, she pushed herself up against the wall.

Mandalay was standing in the middle of the room, eye wide, all the color drained from his face.

“What are you?” he said.

Lilitha stared back.

He wiped his mouth. “You ~are~ a witch.” He backed his way to the door. “The sooner we get rid of you, the better.”

Spinning around, he flung open the door and slammed it shut behind him.

Sagging to the floor, Lilitha burst into tears.