Raised By Wolves Volume four- Wolves (7 page)

I recalled his words about deriving pleasure fromcruelty and I smiled grimly. Though Thorp dressed and acted much as Alonso once had, this was a man much as Hastings had been: a manwho enjoyed the painofothers.

you are merely doing a job you were paid to do, by men who will bear the responsibility in this life and the next, will not save you, either.”

“Cease your foolishness, my lord,” Collins said. “We are doingGod’s work. Your threats willhave no effect onus.”
I sighed. “Well, Mister Collins, it is not for me to
judge
, or
you
, but
God
.”
“I have no fear of His judging me harshly for this,” Collins said.
“And I have no fear of His judging me harshly for the things youjudge me for.”
“Mylord… that is…”
I smirked. “Heresy? Or Blasphemy? Make up your mind quickly, Collins. Youdance withthe Devil, remember?”
“Aye, aye, I do,” he said with conviction. “And you shall no longer callthe tune. We willcommence withyour instruction.” He frowned at me anew. “But first, you will don a proper shirt and we willremove those heathenhoops fromyour ears.”
“Nay,” I said. The shirt I was willing to bend on, the earrings, no:Gastonhad placed themthere. “Fuck off.”
Apparently they had discussed such an eventuality
Apparently they had discussed such an eventuality beforehand. Collins stepped back, and Watkins and Lots hauled me to myfeet, looped mymanacle chainover a hook ona beam, and gave me five sharp blows witha cane across myshoulders.
The suddenness of it drove the breath from my lungs: I inhaled fire. At another time in my life I would have feared the helplessness and beenstunned bythe treatment suchthat I would have sought to appease my captors and said some droll thing in capitulation before withdrawing to lick my wounds until I could determine what course of action to pursue to foil them. Not this time. My Horse would have none of it. He raged, rearing and nearly unseating me such that I knew I best appease Himor lose myselfto madness. So I let Himhave His head.
“Now my lord,” Collins was saying, “we do not wish to…”
I twisted inmychainand spat onhim. “Fuck you!”
I soon found myself wearing the shirt, gagged, my earrings removed, and my limbs fixed in a pair of iron stocks such that I was nearly bent in two with my wrists between my ankles. To my credit, they had to call two additional men in to accomplish this. I was bruised and battered, and still angry beyond reason. Thorp had laughed through the whole of it. Collins had withdrawn.
All I could do was fervently thank the Gods yet again that Gastonwas spared this.
At last Thorp withdrew, and my gaolers retreated to the far side ofthe roomto sit at the table and playcards. I tested my bonds and found they were designed quite cruelly: the loops of metal holding my ankles and wrists were aligned along one flat metal holding my ankles and wrists were aligned along one flat surface and did not move such that I could draw my legs up a little and find some comfort. I would shortly be miserable as my muscles cramped at such an awkward position, and ifI struggled I would quicklybloodymyselfonthe roughmetal.
I held still and tried to think. I knew a sane man, a man who believed there was order to the world based upon lies, would have vowed to alleviate his suffering at their hands by whatever means he could concoct, untilsuch time as he could be rescued from them. I could come to lie convincingly enough for Collins’ feeble brain: never giving himall he wanted, but allowing himto feelthere was no need to resort to torture: and thus spare myself a great deal of trouble. But I was no longer such a sane man. I was committed to truth. It was all I had. That and faith: faith in my love for Gaston and his for me, and faith that the Gods would not be so cruel or misguided as to let men such as this or myfather triumph.
I vowed I would accept the pain. I would fight them, and every ache served to reinforce my anger and indignation such that when Collins returned and ordered my release I had a great army of resolve at my disposal. I fought. My gaolers were fast, but Lots would have lost an eye ifmy back had not been so stiff. I ended up tied down over a barrel, the silly shirt torn from me, and my back striped by the cane until I bled. I wanted more. This was akin to my Horse running beneath Gaston. I had the bit inmyteeth, and the painreceded as ifblownawaybythe breeze ofmypassing.
In the morning, I did not attempt to fight at once: I could barely stand from the stiffness when they released me. They left barely stand from the stiffness when they released me. They left the remains of the shirt flapping on my arms, and warily offered me water and a pot. I drank the one and used the other. Then theyled me to the table to sit untilCollins and Thorp arrived.
“I heard I missed something,” Thorp said as he crossed behind me to sit.
“Mylord, it does not…”Collins was saying.
“Spare me,” I snapped. “How is my sister? What atrocities have youheaped uponher?”
“None, my lord,” Collins said. “She is a lady and has beenmost cooperative.”
I sighed. So Sarah was sane: good for her: there were enoughmadmeninthe family.
“You shall be allowed to visit with her if you are cooperative,”Collins said.
I shook my head. “She is a grown woman. There is no aid she can offer me or I her in this. She willface it her way, and I inmine.”
“And how will you face this… endeavor?” Collins asked.
I spit onhimand grinned.
Watkins raised his arm, but Collins waved himoff.
“My lord, do you truly intend to test us so?” Collins asked with a troubled frown as he dabbed the spittle off his cheek.
“I willnot cooperate,”I said flatly, “withthis
endeavor
. I willprayfor deliverance, and I willsuffer as necessary.”
Collins puffed up to say something and paused. “Wait, youwillprayfor deliverance?”
“Fromevil. Frommyfather. Fromyou, youimbecile.”
Collins appeared sincerelyperplexed. “How canyousay such a thing? I amnot evil. Your father is not evil. It is you who exist ina state ofsin. Are youtrulypossessed?”
I paused to consider my words. It was one thing to have themtorture me to correct my moral deficiencies; it was another for this man to think he must exorcise me or some such rubbish —or to announce in England that I should be burned. My father might have none of it—but the Church, either Catholic or the Church of England—could override the wishes of a lord. Oddly, I found I was willing to die for love, for being a sodomite even, but not for heresy. To that end I decided I would watch my tongue, and perhaps risk angering the Gods by referring to Them inthe singular.
The thought caused me some amusement and I smiled. “Nay, I amnot possessed by any spirit or demon. You gave me muchto think onlast night, and I thought onit withgreat fervor.”
“And you came to the conclusion I am evil?” he asked withwonder.
“Nay, I knew that before. Nay, last night I came to resolve that I will live as a man of truth, though it take me to my grave. It is all I feel I can offer God as to the truth of my convictions and the integrity of my soul; that despite whatever sins I might have committed against my fellow man, that I will walk inthe Light ofTruth.”
He shook his head. “But… that is… What is this light of truth? Is it not God?”
“It is love.”
“Love? For God?”he asked hopefully.
“Aye, and for… man, or rather, one maninspecific.”
“But… My lord, God views man loving man as an abomination,”he said.
I had been quoted the Bible verses involving my purported perfidy before. I smiled. “The Bible says that man lying with another man as with a woman is an abomination. I have never lain with a man as if he were a woman. I have no interest in such a thing. If I lie with a woman, it is because she is a woman and I want to treat her as one. If I lie with a man, it is because he is a manand I want to treat himas one.”
Thorp beganto chuckle.
Collins frowned with confusion. “But… but… Do you not wishto place your prick ina man?”
“Aye.”
“Then that is what is meant,” Collins countered. “Aman should onlywishto place his prick ina woman. So ifyouwishto place your prick in a man, then you wish to use him as you would a woman.”
I shrugged. “I see your argument. I do not agree withit.”
“But, my lord, you…
must
agree with it. It is the Word ofGod,”he said.
“Nay, it is
your
interpretationofthe word ofGod.”
“But Mister Collins’ interpretation is the generallyaccepted one,”Thorp said.
I shrugged again. “Aye, I know. I think it is wrong nonetheless.”
“So you would place your opinion above all others?” Thorp asked.
I smiled. “Why should I not? Martin Luther did. Henry the Eighthdid. I assume neither ofyouare Catholic.”
“So youare sayingyouare their peer?”Thorp taunted.
“Why not? I am a nobleman by birth, and it is a thing I cannot escape—as you noted. They were men. I ama man. We are entitled to our opinions. Granted, it helps if one can marshal an army to defend one’s position when it threatens the politics and power ofothers.”
Thorp looked to Collins. “You will not win this argument.”
“Why, sir?”Collins asked.
“Well, for one thing, youare too stupid,”Thorp said with a shrug. “But nay, you will need to break his will before he will hear your words.”
Collins took a deep breath. “I had hoped to avoid…”
“Of course you did,” Thorp said dismissively. “Unless you are entirely successful—such that Lord Marsdale
thanks
you—you will have to explain your methods to the Earl. You have been told what will likely trouble him the most—short of our havinghis lover onhand—and I suggest youemployit.”
I tensed at his sly smile, and felt Lots heavy hands close over myshoulders and press downto hold me inthe chair.
Collins sighed. “Very well, then.” He looked to Watkins. “We willemploy the harsher measures as we discussed. I do not wish to…witness such things.” He stood and left us with a wave ofhis handkerchief.
My gaolers dragged me out of the chair and threw me over the barrel I had occupied in the night: gagging me and tying mywrists and ankles to rings inthe floor once again. I was afraid I knew what they intended, but I frantically maintained the hope that I was wrong, and myfather had included the thingI feared in the list of proscribed injuries to be delivered to my person. The hope died when they tore away my breeches. Why had I hoped he would proscribe it now when he had allowed Shane to perpetrate it before?
I lost myself to my Horse’s rage and panic when I felt the grease on my arse. I was only barely aware that the thing occurring was not what I expected. Instead of raping me, they stuffed a large object in my hole and left it there. The initial penetration hurt immensely, but once that passed, it was merely uncomfortable and humiliating. I hung there on the barrel, struggling to breathe against the pressure on my chest and the desire to cry.
I prayed. Not in my usual manner of telling the Gods what I desired. Nay, I begged the Gods that I would be rescued fromthis night terror; and that none I cared for would be harmed in the doing of it; and that all involved in this atrocity against me would die horrible deaths at my hand; and I thanked Them ferventlythat Gastonwas spared this.
When darkness fell, the object—which I was at last able to see resembled a carved wooden turnip—was removed, and I was released from the barrel, given a small cup of water, and placed in the damnable stocks and dumped on my pallet. I spent the night in misery. I no longer felt the need to run. I was full of anger, and pain, but surprisingly, not fear or uncontrollable

madness. Old memories of Shane’s abuses had not surfaced, nor did I feelthe stormofinsanity circling me as I had last winter inPort Royal. Mymind was calmand sure.

At dawn, I was released and allowed to stretch and attend to my needs. Once again I was given only water, and my stomach knotted in disappointment at the empty intrusion, even as my mouth and throat delighted in drinking it. I was lightheaded when they sat me in the chair. I reveled in sitting with my back straight and tried to think about what tack I should take this day. I supposed it depended on what winds I was presented with.

Thorp seemed amused at my appearance for some reason. “Is it comfortable to sit?”he goaded.
I ignored him, and he sat at the table with a bottle of wine I could smell. It made me ill.
When Collins arrived, he had the gall to gaze upon me with apology and sympathy. I glared at him until he mustered words.
“My lord, was that pleasant? Do you truly find pleasure insuchtreatment?”Collins asked.
“Nay, youdamnfool,”I growled.
He grimaced. “But is that not the pleasure you find in other men:impalingone another inyour nether holes?”
Watkins was behind me, but his hands were not about my shoulders. My chained hands rested upon the table. I lunged. I knew they would not give me time to strangle the bastard, so I chose to do as much damage as one plunge would allow. I got two fingers in Collins’ right eye. They pulled me off him and

clubbed me to the floor, but I had been successful: my fingers were coated in jelly, and Collins was screaming and holding his bleedingsocket.

I laughed as they dragged me to the beam and chained me standing with my hands above my head. The beating that followed left me hanginglimplyfrommywrists.

I woke inthe stocks, not rememberingbeingtakendown fromthe beam. There was light, but whether it was the same day or the next, I could not tell. I ached so that I thought another beating might have been a relief. I was released and allowed to relieve myself. Then I was given a cup of gruel and another of water. I drank them greedily. Then they chained me standing again and beat me with a knotted rope until I passed into unconsciousness.

I woke over the barrel with the plug in my arse and they caned me. I woke in the stocks. This went on for days. I could not tell how many. I did not see Collins, and even Thorp soon found mypainboring. There was grueland water here and there. Sometimes they allowed me to relieve myself in a pot. Sometimes I pissed and shat when the need struck me and let thembeat me for havingto cleanthe mess.

Collins finally arrived one day when I was tied over the barrel. He was wearinganeye patch. I laughed at him. He asked if I wanted to speak to him. I laughed harder. He left, and things continued as theyhad.