A Tale of Revenge Ch. 13

She turned her eyes towards Serena who looked concerned but unafraid at the show of power. "Afterwards I would like to speak further," Serena said softly. "Evo's chambers are in the noble's wing of the palace, in the western edge of the main castle. Will you meet me there?"

Anna nodded without speaking. She was focused, her entire attention diverted to that flicker of energy pacing the underground prison. Her mind cleared of everything except for her intention before Serena put her hand on her arm. "Do you promise to meet me in two hours' time?"

Anna flicked her eyes up, annoyed at being deterred a moment longer. But she knew the woman was giving her something that extended to 'afterwards,' something to anchor her during the coming confrontation.

"One hour," Anna said and she disappeared out the door of the workroom.

In order to reach the cell where Orlith was, Anna had to pass through the prison block, descending level after level of caged men, all sitting in various degrees of filth and cold. The prison guards were methodical and organized and more than once she'd had to duck out of the way so she would not brush up against a passing patrol. She started to hear the screams on the third level, but they were far off and muted.

On the fourth she encountered a long narrow hallway, lined with heavy wooden doors. The few souls unlucky enough to find themselves here were cowering in their small stone cells, no light but the flicker of torches that managed to come through the space below their doors. At the end of the hall the screaming filtered through a heavy door. Anna made sure there was no one near enough to hear her and she shoved her magic into the lock, forcing the door open at the same time.

To her right was a hidden stairwell that would take her to Orlith but on the left was an open space where a massive jailor was systematically torturing a man who was chained to a great wooden table in the center of the room. Another man, well dressed and official looking, sat at a desk, writing implements in hand, no doubt waiting for the man on the table to start speaking.

Anna froze at the sight before her. The prisoner screamed as the huge man brought bright red metal against the skin of his belly. It held her still in shock, her recent experience rippling through her. The smell of burning flesh filled the space. The jailor kept at it too long though, and the prisoner on the table fainted before the injurious metal was retracted. A chill ran down her back.

"Slow down," the officer sitting at the desk snapped at the larger man. "He's not one of your chambermaids. We need him to survive long enough to extract information."

The great hulk of man threw the iron bar back into the embers where it reddened in the heat. He picked up a hammer and gestured at the bound man's hands.

"Can't you do something that won't give him festering wounds? If he doesn't talk today then he's liable to get a fever overnight and then we won't have anything to work with." The smaller officer stood, his fine robes and words seemed rather out of place in this room.

Behind her she could hear someone approaching. Quickly she stepped off the landing down a few steps of the stairs, her spell wrapped around her to keep her from view. A man she recognized from the king's entourage entered, two guards flanking him.

"Lord High Steward," the man said as he followed the short stairway on the left down towards the open chamber, "I wasn't aware you had returned with a possible spy. You put the rest of us to shame with your dedication. It is barely seven in the morning." Anna peeked around the wall that hid her stairwell from view.

The Steward bowed in greeting to the man, who was no doubt nobility. The two of them looked at one another with barely concealed disdain. "Indeed, Your Grace, the matter is pressing, though it seems we have been overzealous in our application of pain," he said pointedly at the large man who was organizing various horrible looking tools on a table next to the bound prisoner.

"No matter, he will be awake and talking in no time. If you will accompany me now to give a full report you can be back before he's come around." The Duke ushered the Lord High Steward up the stairs though the man seemed reticent to leave the spy in the hands of the torturer.

"Do not touch him until I return," he called out as he was leaving.

The large man grunted and went to gather up some more instruments to add to the table he was preparing.

The two men and the guards started up the stairs towards daylight.

"Is the king aware that I've returned?" the Lord High Steward was saying as he passed Anna's crouched form.

"He hasn't been informed yet," the duke replied. "He's been dealing with another incident..." The man's voice filtered out as they moved away, one of the guards closing the heavy door behind them. Anna turned back to the scene before her, considering the large man.

*

Orlith's back was to her when she rounded the final corner of the winding hallway. This cell was indeed buried deep, and nearly impossible to find. Anna watched as the torchlight danced over his tightly knotted hair. The flames skipped over various implements of torture hanging from the walls. She chose not to peruse the selection. Between her and him was a wooden table, restraints at its corners. More chains hung from the ceiling. Now that the moment to confront him was here, she found herself hesitating. Every instinct inside her was screaming at her to run while he wasn't looking at her, that all would be lost if he turned and saw her.

She had to stay focused on Dev and what Orlith had done to him, keep her mind off all that had passed between them in that attic room. She lowered the spell keeping her hidden, but still made no sound to alert him to her presence. Her heart was racing. Focus, she schooled herself.

Orlith placed the whip he had been tinkering with back on the wall. Anna caught the briefest glimpse of it before she pulled her eyes away. She would not feel the bite of that lash. Enough with this weakness.

"Did you grow up in a monastery?" She asked loudly, her voice sharp and sudden in the small cell.

Orlith whipped around, his face studiously contained but she could practically feel the shock coming off him. He looked at her closely, his eyes falling to her bare neck, and to the fine men's clothing she wore.

Then his face softened and he chuckled almost to himself, as if enjoying a fine joke. "I never should have listened to that idiot in the tower. You were never going to be that easy."

"I ask," Anna said, ignoring his response, "because you seem so fond of whips. I understand the boys left at the monasteries of the Dark God are introduced to them early in life. And the monks can be especially vicious towards youthful behaviors."

She kept her eyes on him, searching to see how her words fell. She saw a flicker of pain was it? But then he was back, a tight smirk on his lips.

"I knew you would come back to me," he purred. "I've been waiting."

He stepped towards her. Every inch of her body begged her to flee as he approached, but she held fast, her face calm, her breath controlled.

"I would not come closer if I were you," she said stonily.

Orlith looked into her, his face hungry, his intentions bare. "We have unfinished work, pet." The word sent a chill down her spine. "If you've disposed of the king then we have all the time in the world, a wonderful gift. And I get to keep you." He was only a few paces away from her. He reached his hand up as he drew nearer. She felt the pull of his touch, the fear of disappointing him, the need to submit. It was as though two opposite people had begun living together in her head. One raged, furious and afraid. The other was beaten, submissive and broken down, but at peace. The calm was seductive.

His hand came to her cheek, the blade of his finger running from her cheekbone down her face to her neck. She was paralyzed, trapped between two minds. Orlith smiled cruelly at her, his true self. His presence was overwhelming her. He was too open, too intense.

Without fully planning her motions, Anna reached up and grasped his hand as it slid down her neck. Her grip wasn't tight and he allowed her to do it. She brought his hand down and cupped it, palm up, in both her hands before her. She lowered her gaze from his piercing eyes to the callused palm etched in deep shadows. Her eyes traced the lines she found there. She brushed the tips of her fingers over the ends of his. These were the hands that hurt her, had violated her. And they had soothed her too. It was conflicting, as he had intended it to be.

Without the benefit of her magic there was no way to see it, especially in the dark of the dungeon. He had washed but some things do not come off as easily. There it was, etched into the ridges of his fingers, trapped in the crevices around his nails, dusting the rough surface of his calluses.

Dev's blood.

"No," she whispered. Orlith withdrew his hand from hers. She looked back up at him, her face contorted in anger. "You killed him. You hurt him and you killed him." She was shouting now, her rage burning away any thoughts of quiet submission.

Orlith's hand moved faster than she could see, but not faster than her magic. Before his hand could close on her throat, the fire inside her welled up and pushed him back, leaving behind the sensation of a soft caress instead of his intended strangling hold. His body smashed into the wall behind him.

She stood her ground, breathing hard. She felt her magic falter, as confused as her responses were. Part of her wanted to rip him apart, the other to beg forgiveness. It was too much, he was too much, she wanted out and away from him. He had wormed himself too well into her mind and she was not free of his influence.

"You can fight this," Orlith said as he righted himself, "but you know you belong to me, you can feel it inside you. Eventually you will have nowhere to hide."

Anna studied him, considering his words. "You're right, Orlith," his name felt heavy and awkward on her tongue. "I can fight this."

She launched herself at him, moving like a phantom in the flickering lights. He was masterful, fast and brutal when he fought, she could almost admire it. She struck his body with every ounce of her grief and anger and he returned it, blow for blow. The fire inside her pulled her from the worst of his force but still he came at her. She struck him hard in the jaw and followed with a blow directly to the center of his torso, where his ribs arched to meet each other below his heart. When he curled around the blow she brought her elbow down on his back, on top of those sensitive organs hugging his spine.

In return he twisted under her defenses and landed a punishing blow to her side, followed with another at the top of her chest, sending her back from him so he could recover his stance. He opened his body as he came at her and she struck his chest with her fists, feeling his hard flesh beneath her knuckles, a sickening feeling of pounding meat with her hand. He hit her back across her cheek, her head snapping to the side. She stumbled back on the uneven stones beneath her bare feet. He too seemed to take a moment before he came at her again.

There was a moment, a flash of weakness that went through her as he advanced. She felt her body tremble at his approach, her mind twisted away from her and she dropped her fists. Orlith saw it and he reached out, grasping her neck and pulling her towards him.

"Stop, Anna," he hissed at her. "Submit and have it done. There is nothing left for you beyond this room, beyond me." Her heart lurched even as she grasped his wrist. Part of her believed him. Her magic was also confused. One moment she was fighting him, the next she wasn't and her power followed suit. She felt like she was slipping, back into complacency, back towards him. And so the black fire at her core settled; if she was content, it had nothing to add.

Anna felt panic wash over her. She couldn't be trapped again, not by him, not again. Serena was waiting, and Leonid had asked her for three days. There was something beyond these walls. She held onto those thoughts as if they were a lifeline, pulling herself out of the mire Orlith had created for her to fall into.

She gripped his wrists harder, her fingers digging into the tendons of his arms, finding the weak spot he'd used on her buried under his muscles. Orlith's hold loosened enough for her to pull back, weakening it further. She used her grip on him to balance as she lifted her leg, striking him on the side of his ribs with all her strength, releasing him as she landed the kick. His bones gave way and her foe was thrown against the wall, cushioned only by the implements of torture that hung there waiting for her.

"Is that what you felt when you hit me?" she came at him, dragging him up to standing. "Did you like feeling my body break under you?" She struck him again, her fist meeting his tensed abdominal muscles. She twisted as the punch landed, bringing her elbow up and cracking it across his cheekbone. Her other hand held him against the wall when he sagged, She struck his broken ribs again with her knee. The pain that had been wiped from her body lingered in her mind and she almost felt the sharp crack under her own skin. It made her sick. Orlith was breathing shallowly through the pain as he raised his face to meet her gaze, but he smiled at her all the same, and punched her in the stomach with both fists.

Anna doubled over and stepped back but he brought his knee up and struck her forehead. She reeled backwards, her back striking the table meant to hold her. "Of course I did," he said, wiping the trickle of blood that had started down from his lip. "You were meant to break under me, and I would have built you back up again, perfect and complete." He struck at her again; she blocked him with her forearm. He kneed her in the gut and her stomach rolled so she nearly vomited on him. He grasped her hair and dragged her face up to his. "But you've ruined it," he breathed as he edged closer to her face, "you'd rather go on, empty inside, lost in a world that doesn't want you."

His fingers ran over her cheek softly and a look that could almost be called regret flitted across his face. Before Anna could react his lips were on hers, his kiss bruising and forceful. Again she faltered, the trap he set so much more tempting than the continued fight. She softened for a second, and then she bit down, her teeth meeting each other with a click through the skin of his lower lip. He yelled as she released his mouth only to have his voice cut off by her fist under his chin, followed by a foot in the center of his chest.

Orlith recovered, faster than he should have been able to, and he leapt towards the wall, moving away from her. She advanced again but then he turned back towards her, something clenched in his hand. Before her brain had managed to register the sound of the whip flying through the air at her, the magic that flowed through her brought her arm up to protect her face from the wicked end of the lash. The leather wrapped itself around her forearm, pain lacing its way up her skin. Orlith snarled and jerked the whip back, pulling her with it. She didn't resist as he expected her to and used the slackening of the cord to release the whip's grip on her arm before landing a kick just under his ribs, missing the broken few. He stumbled back, hitting the wall again and raising the whip.

She spun away and threw herself towards the table, leaping onto it even as the whip cracked in the space she had just occupied. She dodged the empty restraints embedded in the wood of the table and made it to the other end even as she heard Orlith coming up behind her. She turned again, the lash striking at her ankle as she jumped from the edge of the table. Propped against the wall was a rod that looked suspiciously like the metal the jailor upstairs had been using on his victim. Anna grabbed it and brought it up just as the whisper of the whip sounded through the air again. This time the lash wrapped itself tightly around the thin metal over and over again. Anna twisted the bar and yanked the whip from Orlith's hand. She saw his face for only a moment, glaring at her from the far side of the table.

Anna threw the bar as hard as she could, aiming for his head. But she didn't wait to see if it landed, as she was sure it wouldn't. Instead she scrambled back over the table and threw her body at him, letting the bar and flailing whip distract him long enough for her to get close. She tackled him as he caught the bar. He landed hard, the metal flying from his hands. She was on him in a second, striking him over and over feeling her fury build as she recalled every time he'd hit her, every time he'd broken her skin or pushed her head below the water till she thought her lungs would burst. She hit him for every time he's taken off the blindfold and soothed her, for every time he'd comforted her from the pain he had caused.

Orlith blocked her right arm with his left and grabbed it, jerking it across his body. His right snaked around her right side, furthering her momentum off him. In an instant he was on top of her, his blood dripping from his face onto hers. He trapped her arms against her chest and leaned his weight on her. She stilled as his weight bore down on her. His bloody lips curled in a sneer.

"You stupid cunt," he growled. "I should have known you were useless." The gleam in his eye set her off somehow, the fear of being trapped beneath him, the memory of what he'd done to her body served to force her away from her complacency. She was sick of him, of his words and his fists. This ended now.

"And you are a coward and a murderer," she spat back. With a burst of power she shoved his body off hers, sending him smashing into the wall once more. He got to his feet, still intent on her, but her conflict was gone, and her intention finally clear again.

She moved forward, advancing on him, striking out at him and giving him not a moment to recover before another blow fell. "Is this enough intensity for you?" she yelled at him, grabbing his head between her hands and bringing her knee up into his nose; the flesh buckled beneath her kneecap. He fell back into the wall, finally having run out of space to retreat from her. Her breath was harsh in her lungs; the feeling of his blood on her fists was unnerving as the warm liquid dripped between her fingers. The man at her feet was a mess. His face mangled by her blows, blood dripped freely down from his broken nose, staining his shirt. When he had stood over her broken body he had felt triumphant. She felt hollow-no relief, no satisfaction. He was still in there, in her head, making her feel uncomfortable for her resistance.

But she had planned for her weakness.

"I must go," she said, stepping away from him and back towards the door. She raised her hands, shackles grasped his wrists and drew him up, left him hanging in the center of the room. She began to build her illusion, ignoring the discord within her. Her thoughts were not sound, she felt herself bouncing back and forth between different emotions. She should not be doing this, that much was clear, but it was the only way to seek her revenge for herself and Dev and keep to her promises. She focused on her plan, one she'd made before she'd come to him.

"You may run, Anna," his voice sliced through her, but she stubbornly stayed her course. "But I am inside you, I am in your mind, you will see me when you close your eyes, feel my hand on your throat, my lash at your back."

His words struck deep inside her, but she did not have the luxury of time. Serena was waiting. She finished her spell, placing the illusions on their forms and looked back into her own eyes.