Burial of hearts the black widow's malice (17 page)

BOOK: Burial of hearts the black widow's malice
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I thought about the offer for a
moment, agreeing upon it. Even if it was high risk I knew that it was the only
option that I had and that was the route I was going to have to follow.

Leaving their home, I went back
to my own room, relaxing upon my bed until evening came.

The city prison was close by to
where Camerine’s mother was executed. Walking up Henson Road, a slight glee
took over me; Jane and her family were no longer there, they must have been
able to find a room for their family and possibly even a job; at least I did
some
good that day.

At the prison, I watched from a
distance as all the carts left outdoors were being brought in. A prisoner was
being held within a small cage, dark as the horses that drew it. He looked
strikingly similar to the rogue sorcerer whose image had been placed upon the
city noticeboard. All about him were persons clothed in hooded robes, hiding
their identity.

There were a few carts left to be
pulled in past the large grilled gates. I snuck behind one filled with barley.
Carefully hiding myself, avoiding any quick movements which may have attracted
the attention of the nearby guards.

“Come on, there are only a few
carts left, let us get these in then we can have a rest”. Said one of the
guards.

I held onto my nerve as they
began to pull the cart I was within. A small rat was chewing upon the barley
below me; spotting me it began to run around my legs, inspecting me for any
signs of more desirable food, thankfully I had none.

“Put the barley over there in the
corner”.

Dropping the cart, I smacked my
head upon the solid wood below; I had to bite my lip so I did not screech in
pain.

“Right men, I fancy a drink, I
think we deserve one after hauling all
that
lot”.

I could hear the crunching of
stones beneath their feet as they walked away. Sitting up, I peered out of the
cart to see all that was around me. There were still guards watching the
prison; they were stood shivering in watchtowers, waiting for anything unruly
to take place.

Behind me I could see a door
ajar. Making a final check, I slid myself backwards out of the cart, coming
face to face for a moment with my new peckish acquaintance. Crawling upon the
floor, I hid from the guards above, slithering my way through the doorway.

Standing up, I was at the foot of
a large hallway, lit by the light of the flames. The ceiling seemed to reach up
forever, the walls strong and thoroughly thickened to prevent any prisoners
from escaping. I peered into the first room; though bars broke up the view, the
sights I saw were grotesque to the eye.

A single man held onto a clawed
metal shaft, which was meant to encourage the prisoner to talk. Ripping at his
flesh slowly, as his body was stretched upon the chair he was sitting. His
cries of pain shot through me with every slice of his skin. To the side of them
were several others who were hung upon the walls, able to watch in every
detail, what was also to happen to them if they would not speak.


Where
is the money you
stole?
”.
Said the torturer, as he was threatening the prisoner
with more punishment.

He did not respond, merely
breathing in, holding onto his words.

“Very well, you do not wish to
talk”.

He turned towards a large table,
covered in a varying degree of painful instruments of torture. He came back. In
his hands was a clamp, heated by hot coals, he closed it around the leg of the
prisoner; the shrieks of pain now intensified, I could smell the putrid
fragrance of his burning flesh. I walked on, no longer wishing to watch, hoping
for the prisoner’s sake that at the least he would have a quick death.

I could hear that the guards were
heading my way; I quickly hid in one of the rooms, behind a desk. I thought
they may pass by, but they did not; by my usual luck they also entered into the
exact room I was in. I could hear the rustling of keys as he replaced them back
onto the hook that they belonged.

“What a tiresome day, can you
smell that? Smells like cooked beef”.

 “I think I shall put my
feet up for a moment, then we can go home”.

My heart began to race, if he sat
down he would see me and then I would be the one in prison getting tortured by
that brute. I could see his legs in front of me beginning to bend, the boots he
was wearing were smudged, from the now dry mud.

“How about we go for a drink?
”.

“Let me think, the other half
wants us to go for a banquet tonight… very well, let us go for a drink,
anything must be better than seeing these so-called relations”.

 He stood up, they both
exited the room, closing the door firmly behind them. I stood, looking around
the room this must have been the guard’s place to rest when on their breaks.
There were several places to be seated, a large selection of books were on
offer to read, if so they wished, as well as a range of delicacies left to
snack upon.

I noticed the set of keys that
were not there before. I picked them up, surveying what was written upon each.
Most were for doors, of no importance; there was a key to open the cells of the
prisoners, one for the gates at the front, but predominantly they were for
storage rooms, where they most likely kept possessions stolen from their
captives.

They were all labelled but I
could not find any that would relate to a room where the book would be kept.
Placing them in my pocket, I started to search around the room. Looking in every
drawer I found nothing but the occasional vulgar sketch of women’s breasts. I
continued to search the room. There was a place for all the uniforms of the
guards to be hung; perhaps one of them had forgotten to put the key back after
finishing his duty. I searched in vain, as fast as I could in case anyone would
come, but the key was not to be found anywhere in this room.

I opened the door slowly, making
sure no one was about, then walking back into the hallway.


Stop
there. Who are you?
”.
Said one of the guards, pointing his spear up to my neck.

“Avis”. I said as my body began
to quiver from fear.

“I do not know
how
you got
out of your cell Avis, if Hecate hears about this we would be slaughtered like
dogs. Get here you are going
back
”.

Grabbing me by the arm, he pulled
me, squeezing tightly so that I could not escape from his grasp.

“Now this time, do not
think
about trying to get out”.

He flung me head first into one
of the cells, my head smashing against the brick wall, causing me to bleed.

A man in the cell came over to
me.

“Are you ok?
”.

“I will be fine. I have had
worse”. I said as I looked up at him, the blood now trickling down past my
eyes.


You
, I have seen you
before, you are a poet, are you not?
”.

“If by a poet you mean I take
words and give them their truest meaning, then
yes
I am”. He said whilst
I observed all the dragonflies that were hovering around him; a beauty not even
the mightiest of guards could take away.

“What are you doing in here?
”.

“I chose to speak words that they
could not appreciate. They took me here to try to silence me, but words spoken
cannot be locked away, for they live in the minds of all that hear them”.

He paused for a moment, giving
thought to his words.

“The aromas you bring to me, are
as sweet as your hair is soft. Your eyes are lost within utopia, holding onto
the touch of your lover’s lips. Why is it then you come to this place? What
means do you place upon it?
”.

“I am trying to retrieve a book
that is locked away here, but I do not know where the key is ‘The Grimoire of
Pansel’ have you heard of it?
”.

“No, of that I have heard none,
but there are many about me who will know where it lies”.

“What do you mean?
”.

“I shall tell you, but tell me
first what you feel of these words”.

 “The time untold,
but my heart does fall for each moment we have lost. My reach would go as far
as I could to find you, but that distance never was far away, locked in my
heart you will stay forever, even now you have departed, my journey would be
our destinies united”.

 

“That was beautiful, who did you
write it for?
”.

“The one who I chose my life for,
but now she is with the gods”.

“I am sorry to hear of your loss,
it is always painful to lose someone you care for deeply”.

He sat there beaming a smile for
a moment. The dragonflies spun into one; the light they gave off was
spellbinding as they fluttered from the cell.

“Where have they gone?
”.
I said.

“You shall see, wait”.

I sat upon the hard straw bed,
looking at the metal hooks that were scattered around the room, ready to
shackle us if our deeds were contrary to their expectations.

Returning the dragonflies were
somehow supporting a book; they flew beneath it and beside it and placed the
book down before me.

“This is the book you wanted is
it not?
”.
He said pointing down at the title.

“Yes, but…
how
? Thank
you”.

“Even the smallest of creatures
have great power within them, respect their power and they will respect you”.


Thank you
”. I said again,
as I flicked through the pages of the book, being careful not to rip any of the
delicate work.

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled
out the keys that I had placed there before the guards slung me in this most
unpleasant cell.

“Fancy escaping?
”.

Playfully shaking the keys in
front of him, you could not hide the pleasure on his face.

“That sounds like a very good
idea to me”.

“I need to find my friend
Camerine in here, I do not know where he is, but I have
got
to find
him”.

We both stood up, unlocking the
door, we walked out. We were in one of many hundreds of cells that made up the
city prison.

“How exactly are we going to get
out of here alive now? The guards easily out number us and even if we get to
the entrance gate,
more
guards would be alerted”.

“Strength in numbers, we need to
create some turmoil”.

We ran quickly to each cell,
letting every prisoner out on the first floor and then making our way up to the
second floor. In the first cell we went to, we were greeted by a scrawny tall
man, his facial hair as messed up as the words he spoke, constantly beating his
fist against his head; he did not seem to notice us.

“You there, stop what you are
doing
now
”. Said one of the guards as he walked around the corner.

He began to run towards us, so I
quickly released the prisoner who quite happily jumped on the back of the
guard, covering his eyes; the guard swayed about as he tried to beat him off,
accidentally knocking over a torch in the process.

The flames began to rise as they
touched upon wooden supports that lined the walls around the cells.

“Avis, we need to get out of
here, the place is going to burn down”.

“I
will not
go without
Camerine. I need his help”.

“Ok, I will find him, I promise,
but please go
now
”.

I turned around to see the guard running
still with his eyes covered; I backed away as he ran past, not knowing where he
was going, he smashed straight through a window.

Running back down the stairs, the
guards had come out in full force, but were easily overcome by the masses of
prisoners that were slowly filtering down towards them. I routed my way back
outside along with many of the prisoners. Hiding behind a wall, the main
entrance doors opened, a group of around thirty guards had gathered outside,
alerted by men in the watchtowers.

“Remain where you are and you
shall not be harmed”. Said the man furthest forward. Their words were merely
ignored as the prisoners stormed towards them, their own well-being no longer
had pride of place in their egos, as they sought to rid the city of those who
constantly wielded their power through unmerciful command.

The guards had pushed forward and
the melee was now within the prison grounds; but by no means did they have any
advantage; many of the guards were being attacked in groups; they stood no chance.

Seizing the opportunity, I hid in
the shadows, slowly pacing myself around the side of the prison’s wall,
sneaking out while they were preoccupied.

I ran part way down the road; a
group of onlookers were stood there, so I merged myself among them, ensuring I
did not seem suspicious to anyone.

BOOK: Burial of hearts the black widow's malice
3.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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