Far Sighted Ch 4: Change

Chapter 4

Change

         Blinking my eyes against the light, I gazed around the tent.  It was bare except for the pole in the center I was tied to.  Disoriented and confused, I tried to remember where I was and what happened.  There were glimpses of forests and plains. 

         Sir William.  Where was Sir William? 

         The memories began to return, only a trickle at first.  Sir William left to leave a false trail, leading the trackers in the wrong direction.  Then a steady stream.  I’d traveled alone through the night.  There were horses.  Now a raging torrent swept every other thought from my consciousness. 

         Clover.  His scream of pain echoed through my memory, piercing me to the core.  I would have curled up from the agony if my hands and feet had not been bound.

         Everything was wrong.  How had it turned out like this? 

         I let the sobs rock my body, crying for Clover, crying for the loss of my home, crying for everything that happened since I met Sir William.

         Sir William, he was the problem.  Everything was fine before he came along and tore my world to pieces.  My hands balled into fists as tears of anger coursed down my cheeks.  Pulling against the ropes holding me captive, my wrists and ankles grew raw and bloody.

         “It’s all your fault!”

         I don’t know how long I ranted and screamed, letting my anger numb the tortuous pain.  I didn’t care if everyone knew I was a woman.  Maybe if they knew it would all end, I’d wake up and be back at the monastery.          

         Exhaustion took me, but I found no rest, no peace. 

         When next I opened my eyes, the world was dark.  Sleep refused to return, leaving me to face the cruel injustice of the world.

         Every muscle burned and ached from being held in the same position for hours on end.  It felt like thousands of needles protruded from my knees, on which all my weight rested. 

         Hours later the rustle of the tent flap announced someone’s presence, but I stubbornly kept my eyes trained on the ground.  A warm breeze fluttered past, playing with the dirty, knotted tendrils of my hair.

         “Such a pitiful sight.”  A pair of boots deliberately came to stand within my line of sight, mocking my humiliation.

         Lifting my gaze to meet his, I glared, defiant.  No one would intimidate me.

         Empty, cruel, blue eyes met mine, a sinister grin slithering across his face.  “I can’t believe my men mistook you for a boy.”  He knelt, taking my chin in his hand.  “These features are far too elegant to belong to a boy.”

         I wanted to squirm out of his grasp, but resisted.  The lack of pity in his gaze twisted knots in my stomach.  This was a man without mercy.

         Still smiling, his hand moved from my chin to caress my cheek.  “I suppose that knight is your noble protector.  Tell me, who are you that you would warrant a protector?”

         I maintained my silence.  Let him think what he will.

         Anger hardened his eyes.  His hand was a blur, reaching up and pulling my head back by my hair. 

         Gritting my teeth, I endured the pain stoically.

         “You would do well to answer, milady.  I have very little patience and I might just have to torture that brave knight of yours if you don’t.”  Spittle flew as he hissed in my ear.  His grip tightened and he slammed my head against the pole.

         “Are you really willing to let him suffer for you?”

         “Why would I care?” I hissed back.  “He’s the reason I’m in this situation in the first place.”  I played his game…and won.

         Flinging my head forward, he stomped away, wrestling the tent flaps out of his way as he left. 

         Sighing, I grinned ruefully at my small victory.  Letting my head droop, I fell back into despair.



         The night returned once more, with a vengeance.  Lightning split the sky and thunder shook the ground.  Pain speared through my skull.  I swore the pain was worse than ever before.  For the first time in years a whimper escaped my lips.  The whimper quickly escalated to a full scream as indescribable agony ripped through my head and rippled down my spine.

         Fire flooded my veins, burning, searing.  My screams ripped through the night, echoing the sound of the thunder.  The world around me ceased to exist as a world of torment evolved.

         A howl rent the air, primal and savage. 

         What was happening?  Never had the episodes gotten so violent.

         The cry sounded again and again, each in time with the waves of torture breaking upon my mind and the cries escaping my lips. 

         So consumed in agony was I, that I never noticed my bonds being released and falling into a strong, supportive arm.  Instinctively my freed hands wrapped around my stomach, trying to hold back the raging torrent.  I pulled my knees to my chest with little hope of escape.

         Wave after brutal wave pounded away at my sanity.  I was beyond all help.

         Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, a tidal wave ripped an excruciating wail from my lungs.  Eyes bulging open, I panted, struggling for breath in this suffocating haze of unbearable pain.

         The world took shape before me, a face filled with a mixture of concern, terror, dread, and pity.  For a moment the depths of his dark eyes swallowed my pain, allowing me to see clearly.

         “S…Sir Wil…”  All hate for his existence in my life fled in wake of the agony.

         “Shhhh.”  He took my face between his hands, his eyes boring into mine, trying to communicate something unintelligible.

         “I-It hurts.”  I could barely get the words out between gasps.

         “I know.”  In spite of the pain I could hear the sympathy of a man who knew the pain I suffered.  Guilt swept across his gaze before he disappeared from my line sight.

         Another howl sounded in the night, full of sorrow.

         Pulling me to him, Sir William held  me in a crushing embrace, my back to his chest.  The pressure of his arms kept me from completely losing myself in the pain.

         Through the night he never faltered, whispering words of encouragement and comfort I could barely hear through the waves of agony.

         At one point everything became too much to bear and I clutched at Sir William’s supporting arms wishing I would die.  It felt like I was being crushed beneath a mountain, every bone breaking and every muscle seizing.

         There was a difference in my voice that startled me from the haze, but in a moment it was forgotten, the suffering finally diminished.  In the absence of my cries there was silence.  The storm was past and dawn on the horizon.

         I felt Sir William brush the sweat dampened hair from my face.  Meeting his gaze, I was amazed to find tears. 

         “Adanna?”

         I hardly noticed the switch from my assumed male name to my given female name. 

         My tongue was stayed.  What could I possibly say to him?

         “We have to move.  Can you walk?”

         I flexed and found my joints locked in place.  Shaking my head, I knew there was no possibility of escape.

         “Go.”  My voice cracked, but I knew he heard from the horror in his eyes.

         “I’m not leaving you to be tortured Adanna.”

         I wanted to laugh.  Did he think man could inflict greater pain than what I had endured last night?

         “Torture is the least of your problems.”

         We both whirled to face the owner of the voice, Sir William standing to confront the threat.  It was the same man who had come yesterday.

         “You evade us without effort only to sneak into the camp and be caught now?  You’re really making this too easy.”

         Sir William protectively shielded me from the man’s heartless smile.  An involuntary shudder shook my frozen limbs.  As if sensing the terror this man evoked in me, Sir William turned, kneeling at my side.

         “Adanna?”  I could feel his hand, supportive on my shoulder, worry suffusing his gaze.

         I could hear the muffled footsteps of more men entering the tent, approaching slowly. 

         “Take him.”

         The change in Sir William was instantaneous.  Whirling in rage, he unsheathed his sword and swung.  Two men fell, bleeding, to the ground.

         “What are you waiting for fools?”  The man shouted at the remaining wary guards.  “Take him!”

         Hesitating only a moment before rushing forward, two men paid for their obedience with their lives.  The remaining four guards managed to get their arms around Sir William, preventing further casualties.  Struggling to escape, Sir William fought like a rabid wolf. 

         For a split second our eyes met, and what I saw sent a chill through my veins.  Not only an uncontrolled rage burned deep within his gaze, but terror, desperation.  He fought like a man with everything to lose.

         The warmth of unbidden tears burned my cheeks as I looked on with a mixture of loathing and fear.  Sir William slaughtered men like animals, blood staining his tunic as if testifying of his inhumanity.  I’d never witnessed such brutality.  The sight was so sickening I averted my eyes.

         All went silent.  Lifting my head, I saw Sir William had ended his struggles.  Our eyes only met for a moment before he lowered his gaze in regret and shame.

         “Take him to the prisoner’s tent and bind his hands and feet.”  The man turned to face me, his evil smile twisting his already hideous features.  “And take the girl to the questioner.” 

         Sir William’s head shot up. 

         Questioner?  I gasped when the realization hit me. 

         Torture is the least of your problems.

         Torture.

         How could I be so afraid when only minutes ago I was convinced I could endure anything after last night?  Sweat poured down my face and back, my body shook in terror, and my hands grew cold and clammy.  Was I so weak?

         The men holding Sir William dragged him through the tent flaps.  I could only look on as his form slowly disappeared from sight.  A heavy ache burdened my heart, his absence almost tangible.  The violence of my need to see him was overwhelming.  If I had been able to move, nothing short of death would have kept me from running to his side.  As it was I could feel my muscles begin to strain in their drive to pull me forward.

         “You’re not actually trying to rescue him, are you?  You’re hardly in a state to attempt a suicidal mission.”  Snapping his fingers, he signaled to guards to take me.

         “You have a secret, and you’re going to tell me what it is, one way or another…”  His voice gradually faded as I was carried away.



         Wildflowers, mountains, valleys.  The image in my mind’s eye was blurred, distorted.  The soft, puffy clouds were nothing but white globs floating in a sea of blue.  The mountain peaks, jagged and magnificent in my memory, were now dulled by a misty haze. 

         “She’s receded into herself.  Take her back to the tent and tie her up.  We’ll continue tomorrow.”

         The voice that had haunted my worst nightmares returned.  Why did he have to come back time after time?  What was it that he wanted? 

         The black of unconsciousness blanketed my mind…



         Days, weeks, months, years.  How much time had passed?  How many days had I endured?  How many more before my body and mind finally broke?  I was on the edge, only a slight tilt to one side or the other and it would all end.  I dreamt of death and the blissful release it would grant me.  I longed for it, hoped for it.

         The torture sessions only ended once the sun went down, a slight respite only to last until the sun rose.  They were almost worse than the torture itself, my mind dredging up horrible images of what might be done to me next.  Even worse, I thought of what they might be doing to Sir William and despaired that his suffering was my fault. 

         Another night riddled with nightmares was nearing it’s zenith, sleep eluded my grasp after waking for the fifth time.  The windless silence was broken by a low, mournful howl, a howl that sounded every night at this hour.  Tonight it sounded different, stronger, more determined.

         I could hear the guards shift uneasily outside the tent.  They, too, had heard the different tone in the wolf’s howl.  The whispers started and I knew their superstitions would get the better of them.  If there was ever a time to escape, it was tonight.  My mind broke from the prison of torture and grabbed hold of new found hope.

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Far Sighted Ch 5: Wolf  (13+) "I cannot stand up against you, brother. Not now. The bond has been forged.” #1559667 by Far Sighted