Chapter 14

Sleeping had been difficult for them, as they were chained so close to each other. There was some filthy straw that did not provide anything of value as a mattress, and the sanitary arrangements, if they could be called that, was a narrow ditch next to the wall.

Worse than that, for George, was the knowledge that he had dragged three other people into this, who need not have come. He could have refused Howard and Frances. And what call did he have to drag Urien into this? What would Bar4nabas say of the way he cared for the boy?

When early morning came they were fed. One big bowl of a think watery broth, which they slurped as best they could among the laughter of the guards. Then some stale bread, that they chewed on. They poured water into the ditch so that their contents were washed into a drain. Then they left, leaving them again in darkness.

"What is going to happen to us?" whispered Urien.

No one answered. No one dared to. They were caught in the grip of a power that they could not withstand and for whom pity was a foreign word.

"At least we are together." Frances said, trying to cheer herself and the others. "they could have kept us apart."

"That may come, said Howard, glumly. He had no false hopes. he knew how bad things could get. Yet once he had escaped from what seemed a hopeless situation., more than once. Could he not do so again?

If only he had insisted that Frances did not join them. Why had he been so glad, so proud of her when she did it? Was he a kid, that still believed in grand gestures?

There had to be a way out, a chance to escape. George tried to think. He could not abandon himself to guilt and despair. He had to keep trying.

If only he had not pushed Urien into volunteering, if he had not shamed him as a coward when he balked...

After what seemed hours of lying there in silence and darkness they heard steps approach. The door opened, in a flash of blinding light, and Vassily Petofi stood at the entrance of the cell.

He had a whip which he cracked as he stepped into the cell.

"Get up, slaves!" he shouted at them.

George glared at him. The whip bit into him and he almost screamed at the pain, but held himself.

"Get up!" Vassily repeated.

"I am not a slave." George answered, defiantly.

Vassily laughed. "Very, very good. Just as I expected. Big heartfelt speeches from an American, a man from the land of the free and home of the brave, one who shall never wear the chains of another, is that not true? But there are ways around it. There are ways to make you fall to your knees before me, and make you kiss my feet."

"Never!"

Howard saw this with sorrow. There was indeed such a way. Men like Vassily always found them. It was better for George to submit now, and plan to strike later. But it was a bit of wisdom that those born and raised to freedom could not understand.

They pushed a table in. There were straps in it, and tubing to the side.

George flinched. Torture. he had to expect it...

Well, if he had to endure, he would. He hoped that he had courage enough.

But they did not come for him. They came for Urien.

'Not him., bastard, not him!"

In spite of his screams and struggles, Urien was strapped to the table and gagged.

With a smile, Vassily ran his hands over Urien's neck, finally stabbing the big vein tehre, and letting teh blood flow into a colelcting bottle.

"You see, the vampire has to be fed." he explained. "and the blood has to be obtained daily. We bleed our servants regularly, but we cannot allow them to die of it, as we need their labor. This one is no slave." he poked at Urien, "so we can drain him completely. There are between ten and twelve pints in him, and they wills last a while. We will feed them to Barnabas, and when he's finished with them, he shall be informed where the blood came from.

George lunged at him, only to be stopped by his chains.

"You can't do this to him!"

"I can and I will. Do you doubt it still?"

The blood began accumulating in the bottle. It was not much, not yet, but it was flowing continuously, pushed by the frenzied beatings of Urien's heart. Soon it would be too much. Soon Urien would be death. And Barnabas would be fed that blood.

"Wait!" George shouted.

"You dare order us, slave?" the whip cut across George's face. He did not feel it. He felt the blood pumping out of Urien, slowly and inexorably. He imagined Barnabas being told that Urien had died to feed him... What would he say to Barnabas then?

He went down to his knees. "Please..." he said. "I will do all you ask. Just don't kill him."

"Kiss my feet, slave."

George did. Anything to save Urien's life, anything..."

"Will you be an obedient slave?"

"I will, master."

Vassily laughed. "You learn quickly our ways, American." he gestures to the guards, who pulled the needle out of Urien's neck.

Vassily towered over George, the whip in his had. "You will answer my questions now." he said, in a silky voice.

"As you wish, master."

"Why did you attack us as you did? You had no hope of ever winning."

"We were desperate, no one would help us, and we had to try anything."

'The sorceress Angelique denied you help, true?"

"She cares nothing for us. She even stole that which we hoped would give us weapons."

Vassily laughed. "She is smart, as you are not. Neither of you is smart, but you will learn here. Rise, slave."

George did so, reluctantly.

"I see in your eyes that you still hold foolish dreams of rebellion. You say to yourself that you did not kiss my feet for real, that I hold no rightful power over you, and that you lied when you said so. That's what you believe now. And I can punish you for such thoughts."

"Master, please." George went down on his knees again, thinking desperately of Urien and that needle so close to his neck.

"A new horse must be broken to the saddle, and a new slave must be broken to his chains. You will go to my slave tamer tonight and learn to think proper thoughts in my service. So will the others. Taken them to their cells.

Cells. Not cell. They were put in individual cells, which were smaller and cleaner than the first one. They were chained upright to the walls and left alone in the darkness, to wait, to listen to the screams of those who were handled before them.

And the screams came. Urien's. George shouted with him and pulled at his chains... What were they doing to him? Why couldn't they leave him alone?

The scrams rose in pitch, and became hysterical sobs. Pain, humiliation, fear... what was being done to the boy?

And it was his fault, all his fault. Why had he goaded Urien as he did? Why had he virtually forced him to participate in that suicide mission? Why had he been such a fool?"

The door opened and Vassily stood in the rectangle of light.

"You are a stubborn man, George Brant."

"Don't hurt the boy. I will do what you want, anything. Just don't hurt him."

"He's my slave and he is to be taught obedience, just as you will be taught."

Another scream reached them.

"What are you doing to him?"

"Me, nothing. I do not know what the slave tamer does, only that he is good at it. You will find soon enough." he leered at George. "Are you the one who lies with the vampire to satisfy unnatural lusts of the flesh?"

George did not answer. He listened to Urien's screams, wondering when they would stop.

"Answer, slave. Do you lie with the vampire and couple with him?"

George still did not answer.

"You have never been whipped, George Brant, and it is time you were. I will come back after the tamer has been with you, and then you will answer all my questions. You have no rights, here, only those I grant you, and I don't grant you the right to refuse to answer my questions. You will tell me all about your couplings with Barnabas Collins or suffer for your refusal."