Brotherhood: The Recruits
Author: name-me-regret
AN: I wanted to use Russian in some sentences that are said in the language, but the translations are a bit skewered. So, forgive me for any mistakes. I used a translator and this is what it gave me. Please let me know if I made a mistake. This chapter came out of a dark part that ReZ likes to retreat to and make picnics in. It could have been even darker, but I was afraid if I unleashed it. Onward with the chapter!
[Edited: June 14, 2014]
Chapter Twenty-one: Ad Infinitum
May 12, 1500
The young woman inhaled sharply as her eyes snapped open and noticed that it was pitch black. However, up above she saw a small patch with millions of stars. She soon saw that it was a hole in the ceiling that would be too high for her too reach, and too small to squeeze through either way. Annetta gasped as she sat up and immediately regretted it as her head pounded, and she felt nauseous and dizzy. Once the urge to vomit had passed with no incident, she went over the events that had gotten her into this mess.
She'd been in the Piazza della Rotunda for the petals that had never fallen, and as she'd been mourning that small loss she had been attacked. It had been dawn and hardly anyone had been out in the plaza at that time, since there weren't any shop stands in that particular place for someone to be there that early. So, that meant nobody would have seen the figlio di puttanas that carried her off, and no leads for when Ciro came looking for her when she didn't return. Also, it would be well into late morning by the time the thief realized that she'd been taken, since she didn't get there until almost that time every week.
The more she thought about it, the more she thought that it was all so convenient, since someone had known she would be there. As she'd been distracted by her thoughts, they had struck. The only thing she needed to do was figure out what they wanted. Annetta knew that it was unlikely that it had anything to do with her father, since the man had died seven years ago. Also, she didn't go by Annetta Abete on the streets, since Annetta was as good as dead. In essence she had completely become Yeoman; a street urchin with a mean right hook, and that was dangerous with throwing knives and a dagger.
So, she was unsure of the reason she had been ambushed in the piazza. At this late hour she wouldn't get any answers, or at least she thought it was late since she had no concept of how much time had passed. Until they came to interrogate her, Annetta would remain in the dark, and all she could do was wait for morning.
Annetta closed her eyes and she slept.
~o~
The door slamming open woke her and a few moments later she was grabbed and dragged to her feet. Annetta acted on pure instinct as she broke the hold and elbowed the one manhandling her in the face. She heard the snap of his nose breaking and then a howl of pain before another guard slammed a blunt object to the back of her head, and the young woman crumpled.
Annetta came to a few moments later as she was being dragged down the hallway, but she feigned being unconscious as she tried to figure out where she was being taken. She noticed that she was within easy reach of one of the guards' daggers, however, she would bide her time until she knew where she was before attacking them. In the mean time she slyly relieved the guard of his dagger and managed to hide it within her sleeve.
When she'd awoken last night, she had noticed that they'd taken all her possessions, including the dagger she had hidden in her boot. So, she was weaponless besides that stiletto blade she'd stolen off the guard. It wasn't even that sharp, and Annetta hoped she wasn't tied up with her hands apart from one another. Although, knowing her luck, she'd be tied up spread eagle.
Annetta realized she was being taken out of the room and that it was almost morning, but she had already guessed that by the sky lightening through the barred window. It was some kind of compound and there were walls surrounding this place, but they were in need of repair. This place looked familiar, and as the sun rose higher into the sky she realized she was in the Terme di Traiano. She had taken refuge here enough times hiding from the guards that she'd have a hard time mistaking it for another place.
Her eyes were half-lidded so she could see where she was being taken, but the rising sun shone right into her eyes as she was brought into the open. Her eyes slammed shut of their own accord, and she must have flinched because they realized she was awake.
"Don't try anything stupid, ragazzo," the one on the right warned. It was the one whose nose she hadn't broken, and they still clearly thought she was male, which was a small relief while it lasted. This meant they wouldn't try to rape her yet, but she knew it was only a matter of time until that happened and hoped Ciro found her before she was defiled by these bastardi.
Annetta had lost her hat somewhere in the time she'd been knocked out and waking up in the make-shift cell. Also, she hadn't tried to escape before because she had no idea where she was. Now she knew the location, and she was going to try something stupid.
The female thief let the stiletto blade slide into her hand as she caught the handle before it could fall out of reach. They noticed the weapon too late as she managed to slice into the hand of the guard on her right, and when he let her go she drove the weapon up to the hilt into the other guards' thigh. His scream of pain was almost the same as when she'd broken his nose, but she felt no satisfaction as she yanked the blade out in a spray of blood.
Annetta ran from them, up the stairs and then scaling the nearest wall with nimble movements, and on top of the wall she paused for a moment to take in the nearby threats. There was a patrol that had been making its rounds that were alerted of her escape, and were now making their way to her location. Her eyes flashed to the east where a shadow blocked the light of the rising sun, and saw it was a crossbowman that was even now taking aim in her direction. There were two more that weren't within range at the moment, but the first one she had noticed was and she flipped away from the crossbow bolt.
She only had the dagger as her sole weapon, so she knew she had to keep away from them. Annetta was very skilled with a short ranged weapon, but there were simply too many for her to take on alone. Then she had to avoid stopping for too long or the crossbowman would get her within his sights, and one careless moment would be all it took.
The young woman jumped onto a nearby broken column that was flat enough to stand on, and then the next that was lower until she was finally close enough to the ground that the fall wouldn't hurt her. She dashed across the grounds between two short walls that she ducked under to avoid another projectile, then under the shade of a tree growing there, and her aim was the stairs leading down to the path. However, she found that way blocked by two brutes, and was forced to stop her momentum. When she tried to turn around it was to see that she was suddenly surrounded by the patrol that she'd been trying to keep away from.
Of course Annetta fought against them, because they wanted to take her alive, and she knew there were worse things than death. In the end, she was disarmed as the stiletto flew too far away for her to try to recover, and one of them managed to pin her to the wall with a forearm to her throat. Annetta's feet were clear off the ground as the man measuring six feet held her in place like she weighed nothing, and to him she probably didn't weigh anything.
And the world soon faded away around her.
~o~
May 14, 1500
Annetta cried out as she felt freezing cold water dumped on her head, and it soaked into her clothes quickly. She sputtered as some got into her mouth and spit it out, and she lifted her head to look around the room. It was mid-afternoon at least because there was still a little sunlight coming into the room she was in, and she was chained to a stone table. Annetta's arms and legs were completely immobile, but at least she was alone in the room.
She lifted her head and to where the small amount of sunlight was coming from, and saw the hole in the ceiling where the bucket of water that had been dumped on her head. The person that had thrown the water on her was gone, so it was obvious she had been woken for a reason. It meant that she wouldn't be alone for long, and wanted to make sure she'd worked on a way to get free. So, she started to try and test if the metal cuffs were rusted or if several pulls could unhinge them from the stone table.
This is what she was doing, yanking as much as she could until the pain in her wrist became unbearable and was forced to stop. However, the sound of footsteps stopped her attempts and listened attentively to determine whether someone was simply passing by, or coming to her cell. This wasn't the baths anymore, and it was most likely that she was in the tower close by.
Her heart started to pound a bit louder when the heavy cell door opened and a man stepped inside. He wasn't an attractive man, or an ugly man. In fact, he was rather plain with a slightly crooked nose as if it had been broken before, and it made her think of the soldier whose nose she had broken early that morning. Perhaps it had been yesterday morning, because she wasn't sure how much time had passed since she'd been unconscious.
"Let's see if things can go smoothly for once," were the first words out of his mouth. He clasped his hands behind his back as he started to circle her. "I'll ask you a question, and if you give me the truth I won't hurt you."
Annetta's lips pressed into a bloodless line, but didn't shake or nod her head. In fact, she didn't say anything and only stared at him. "Bene," he muttered with a nod of his head. He stopped just in front of her as he leaned forward until his face was inches from her. "Tell me where I can find Il Solitario Assassino."
The question confused her, since she had no idea who he was referring to. As if he read her thoughts, he clicked in tongue against the roof of his mouth in annoyance. "Don't feign ignorance with me, via ratto," he snapped. He still hadn't reached out to touch her but she'd seen it in his eyes. If she didn't tell him what he wanted to know, then he would hurt her. But she really didn't know whom he was referring to.
"Let's start small, shall we?" he whispered. His hands moved from around his back and they snapped forward. His cruel fingers grabbed hold of her hair, and only now realized that the pins had all come out and it flowed in wavy strands to her shoulders. His other hand pulled a dagger from a sheath at his waist, and Annetta closed her eyes in anticipation of the pain. However, it never came as the knife sliced through the air and her hair came away from her skull.
Her eyes snapped open when she realized he was cutting her hair. "No!" she finally spoke, trying to pull away as he grabbed more of her hair and mercilessly cut it all off.
"Finally the piccolo ratto speaks," he taunted, but he didn't stop until he'd cut the last strand. Annetta watched wide eyed as it fluttered down and out of sight, and remembered all the times Vittorio had lovingly carded his fingers through that same hair that now lay on the filthy ground somewhere out of sight. A small sob almost escaped her mouth but she bit her lip so hard that she tasted blood. It would be a truly foolish thing to show this man any weakness that he could use against her. "Did that hurt you, bambino?" he purred, leaning so close to her that he was close enough to touch.
Annetta blinked back the tears and adopted a detached expression and reigned in all her emotions. She realized that this man could read everything she was feeling as clear as day on her face and in her eyes. So, she made herself like a blank slate as she lifted her head to meet his gaze. "It'll take more than that to hurt me, stronzo," she spat. And because he had dared to get close enough, she lifted her knee as much as she could to drive it into his groin. He grunted as he staggered back while clutching himself, cursing rapidly in another language. That's when Annetta realized that he wasn't Italian, and that was the reason his Italian sounded strange. She couldn't be too sure since she'd never heard it, but it sounded Russian. He was at least in his forties, so if he was Russian that would explain his presence in Italia, since there was much warfare and fighting in the country at the moment.
He was upon her before she could blink, and the dagger he'd used to cut her hair was now at her neck. Annetta knew he wouldn't kill her due to any information she may have, but that didn't keep her from feeling nervous with such a sharp object against her vulnerable throat. "A truly foolish thing," he whispered as he leaned forward and inhaled deeply, and for a crazed moment Annetta wondered if he could smell the fear on her.
Then he chuckled as he pulled back and patted her cheek hard enough to make her wince before he turned around. He walked out of the cell and left her chained to the stone table.
~o~
May 15, 1500
Annetta squinted against the light flooding through the cell door as it was opened, and by her guess it was very early morning. The same man as before appeared in the doorway, but he had changed clothes. He had obviously bathed quite recently and had doused himself with some kind of sweet perfume. It was the opposite of how she was right now, since she was dirty, sweaty, and filthy. They hadn't even released her when she had to use the chamber pot.
The bastard had the gall to wrinkle his nose at the smell, but before she could open her mouth to damn him to hell, he gave a signal with his hand. Annetta shrieked as freezing water was dumped on her from the same opening as yesterday, which had been closed before now. "There now, that's better," he said as he came closer. However, before he'd taken more than two steps before he stopped in his tracks. "No, I was wrong. Do it again."
Annetta cried out as she was doused once more with equally cold water. "Basta!" she yelled before they dumped more water on her. However, he seemed to be satisfied with her smell by that point, and she glared at him as she shivered, since it was cold most mornings. Although winter had already gone, spring was in full bloom and the fields in Campagna district were filled with flowers of all kinds. If she concentrated and closed her eyes then she could smell the heady scents of them wafting lightly in through the hole in the ceiling.
She was snapped out of her memories of past days spent lying in those fields of flowers as the man's riding crop burned a painful strip across her temple. Annetta grit her teeth to keep from yelping, and turned a glare on the torturer. "Perhaps you should pay attention to what's happening to you here."
If she weren't strapped to this table, then she was sure the situation would be a different one. She was itching for when Ciro came for her and she was allowed to be free to teach him a lesson. Although Annetta wasn't like the torturer, and wouldn't make a person suffer just because she enjoyed it. She hadn't even killed someone before, and didn't think she had the stomach for it.
Annetta spat at his feet in defiance, and the man looked at where the spittle had landed then back up to her. He turned and walked back to where he'd laid his gloves after removing them, and walked back over as he put them on. The man crouched down and scooped the clump of dirt where the spit had landed and moved toward her. Annetta's eyes widened and clamped her lips together firmly, but his free hand grabbed her by the face and his gloved fingers digging painfully into her jaw. She tried to keep her mouth closed but when she felt the bones groan from the strain, Annetta finally gave into him lest he break her jaw.
He shoved that clump of dirt turned slightly muddy by her own spit into her mouth, and she felt revulsion roll her stomach and heaved. However, he was having none of that as he clamped his large hand over her mouth. Annetta felt bile in her mouth and when he pinched her nose, she was forced to swallow it down along with the muddy spit. When he released her she took in a deep breath before going into a coughing fit at the acidic taste of the bile as it had gone down her throat.
"Bastardo!" she screamed at him, her voice hoarse since her throat felt raw. She flinched back as he lashed out with the crop across her mouth, and she tasted blood and knew he'd split open one of her lips. Annetta didn't dare spit at him again in case he shoved it back into her mouth, so she settled with just glowering at him.
"Let's try a different approach, shall we?" he said cheerfully, amused as her lips pulled back in a snarl at him. "What's your name?"
It was obvious they already knew who she was, but she wasn't sure by which name that was. So, she went with the safer one, and the name they most likely knew her by. "Yeoman." The whip snapped across her cheek. "Cazzo!"
"I said your name, via ratto, not your street name!" he snapped. When she remained quiet, the whip hit her across the other cheek as she hissed in pain, but otherwise made no effort to answer his question. "Well, I'm going to have to get serious with you." He made a 'tut-tut' sound as if he were somehow disappointed in her, but she was interested in what he was doing instead of what he was saying. The man unraveled the bundle that had been sitting there in the corner on a stool ever since the first day she had woken up in this prison cell. Now her eyes bulged a bit as she saw knives of several different shapes and sizes revealed, along with two knife-like objects attached together that made them appear almost like scissors but they were several times bigger.
The man lifted up the scissor contraption and Annetta's heart sped up in anticipation "Well, maybe not yet. I'll save the best for last. These are good for castration, and they're so sharp that one good cut is all it'll take. It's the bleeding out that will be tricky, but I'm sure I can stop it before you die. Maybe." He put them down and instead picked up a knife with a wickedly curved tip and turned to face her. "This beauty allows me to cut neat little pieces into the flesh more easily than with a regular knife, and they'll come off easier too. It's all in the grip."
Annetta clenched her teeth in anticipation, waiting for the pain that was sure to come and wondering how long she would be able to hang on. She hoped Ciro found her soon before she broke and told him everything she knew and didn't know.
When he started to tear her shirt up the middle, she panicked and bucked against the restraints to try and get loose. However, she found that her struggles were in vain as the bandages pressing her breasts flat came into sight, and he paused for a moment. "Were you already injured?" he inquired curiously, not sure what to make of it. He lifted one end of the bandages and used the knife to start cutting at them. Annetta closed her eyes and waited for him to discover her closely guarded secret for so many years.
As the bandages fell away, his hands stilled as he inhaled sharply in surprise. It was so quiet she could have heard a pin drop, and then he gave a small chuckle that soon turned into full blown, slightly crazed laughter. "Well, you certainly shocked me, madonna!"
He roughly grabbed her face with his hands, fingers digging painfully and whimpered as she felt her jaw crack from the strength in the long digits. "This changes things, Мало Воробья," he whispered. She didn't understand what he had called her, and without actually knowing it, she felt like the little sparrow he named her. Like a small, trembling sparrow trapped underneath the paw of a hungry wolf.
~o~
May 25, 1500
Annetta struggled against the iron shackles that kept her imprisoned to the stone table that was the bane of her existence. It had been ten days since that monstro had discovered her gender, and they had been the worst of her life. He had ripped the rest of her clothing off of her and left her naked night and day. The lack of clothes was a relief during the days when it got stifling hot, but the nights and mornings were cold enough to have her teeth clattering.
They had bathed her like clockwork in the mornings from the opening in the ceiling and it was so cold that her nipples were rock hard and they ached. It would have been a God-send if they had bathed her in the afternoon during which time the heat was almost unbearable. However, all those thoughts didn't matter at the moment as she bucked against the large body of the militia man, and shuddered in disgust as his calloused fingers ran along her clammy skin.
Her eyes widened as that hand moved between her thighs, and she savagely bit the hand clamped over her mouth. "Don't touch me with your filthy hands, figlio di puttana!" she snarled. The guard cursed as he pulled his hand to his chest and assessed the damage. When he was sure it wasn't anything, he struck her and her head snapped back from the force of his slap, and a second hit had her tasting blood.
He was upon her while she was dazed from his abuse and felt disgust as his hands once more went for her most intimate of places. Annetta knew this had been inevitable eventually, and as she saw his form in the doorway of her cell she had known that today was finally the day. However, that didn't mean she'd be compliant about the whole thing, and when he moved his face closer she inhaled and spat bloodied saliva into his face. He wiped his eyes and mouth angrily, and then he wrapped those big hands around her slender throat.
Annetta gasped as her eyes bulged, trying to desperately get him off her, but she couldn't move him as his hands slowly crushed her trachea. Her vision was starting to darken as she bucked against the shackles to no avail. When she was sure the darkness of death would swallow her whole, he was suddenly gone, and she sucked in a greedy lungful of air followed by several others. It still felt like a pressure was on her throat and struggled to take in oxygen, but once she had managed to calm sufficiently, she lifted her head.
Her attacker was getting the tar kicked out of him by another, older man and by the helmet he was wearing with his militia uniform, she identified him as the leader. From her experience with several types of guards and running away from them, these regular guards were the ones that were drawn from the local populace. In her past altercations with the guards, she had no problem defeating them, since they were mostly sword-fodder that fell into the lower ranks of the militia. Even the leaders with their protective helmets weren't that hard to defeat.
It was obvious that it wasn't a large group guarding her, since it was always the same two guards at the door of her cell. They fed her twice a day, in the morning and after sunset, and it was always the same two men that brought her the food. At the moment she could tell that it was most likely noon due to the sunlight pouring through the opening above her head. Also, it was the time that the guards were scarce, since most of them went to their homes to eat lunch and never mind that they weren't allowed to leave in the middle of their shift.
This was the reason that beast of a man had tried to rape her then, since there wouldn't be anyone to say anything to him. However, Annetta doubted they would say anything to him even if they'd all been in their posts and others might even join in. So, she was shocked that this man was stopping him.
The older man gave him a kick in the ass so he stumbled out of the cell. "Nobody is allowed to touch Messere Havloh's prisoner!" he snapped angrily. "Change places with Francesco! And don't let me catch you near the prison cells again!"
The door slammed shut after the lower ranked militia man, and when the footsteps had retreated away the leader turned back to Annetta. When he stepped toward her she flinched and he immediately stilled. "Calmarsi, ragazza. I'm not going to hurt you." She gave him an incredulous look and he sighed and ran a hand across his hair that was cut very close to his scalp. "I guess it's a hard truth to believe while being in a place such as this."
He spied the over turned bowl of mush they gave the prisoners as food; porridge in the morning and a clumpy soup in the evening. It was obvious she hadn't been given her breakfast and it was still many hours until sunset. He picked up the bowl and at that moment the girl's stomach grumbled loudly, and he turned to see her eyeing the wasted food longingly. The man was sure that if he offered the dirty mush to her than she was likely to eat it; she was that hungry.
His hand clenched into a fist at his side as he left the cell, closing and locking the door before moving down the hallway. Francesco hadn't come to take the other's place yet, but figured that a few minutes without a guard wouldn't matter. When he returned ten minutes later, the guard still hadn't returned. It would still be awhile before he turned up, since he had most likely gone home like most of the others. They weren't allowed to leave but he permitted it to give the prisoners a reprieve from their cruelty. Usually, he wouldn't interrupt when they raped the female prisoners, but he couldn't help himself this time around.
Her eyes immediately snapped toward the door as it opened to admit him as she watched him fearfully. As he closed the door behind him he wondered naught for the first time what he was doing as he clutched the sack with food in one hand. He looked at her, small in size and those large eyes that silently begged for mercy, and he knew then why he couldn't hold himself back from interfering. She reminded him of his own daughter who had just turned fifteen this past winter. This girl looked to be the same age and with her badly cut short hair, she appeared even younger. He imagined his own daughter in the same situation and the thought horrified him.
The terrible image was banished from his mind as he moved forward as she cringed back, but there was nowhere for her to go. He said nothing and merely unlatched the manacles that kept her arms imprisoned to the stone. She slowly sat up as she watched him warily, and he couldn't blame her. Instead of trying to reassure her, he simply offered the piece bread and cheese from the sack. Her hands snatched the food out of his hold as if she were afraid he would change his mind, and ate with the fast, desperate movements of someone that knew what starvation felt like. When she had finished inhaling the food, he handed her the water skin and she greedily guzzled it down. He wondered when they'd last given her water.
"Don't drink so fast or you'll throw up," he chastised. The girl stopped and stared at him for so long that he thought he may have said something wrong. She then looked at the water skin before her face lowered and she used an arm to cover her small breasts. He realized what she was thinking would happen for having accepted his charity. "I'm not after that," he reassured her, but he doubted she believed him.
As he reached for the water skin she cowered back and he hesitated a moment before taking the water from her. "Mi dispiace, but I have to restrain you once more." He set the water aside after assuring he'd closed it tightly and grabbed one of her wrists. She fought him as he gently pushed her back down, making small whimpers and helpless cries that made his heart heavy. He wasn't rough with her but was firm as he snapped one manacle and then the other in place. She was left panting from the struggle as her bossom heaved, tears spilling down her dirty cheeks as her strange black eyes watched him closely. The man realized she was waiting for him to rape her now.
He shook his head with a world weary sigh and opened his mouth to speak, but it snapped shut as he heard a door slam down the hallway. It wasn't necessary to look to know that Francesco had finally arrived. The man quickly cleaned up any remnants of food leftover on her despite her protests, and tucked the empty sack under his shirt. He attached the water skin to his belt and left the cell without looking back at her again.
After he'd gone and she could hear the other guards' ribald laughter about why the leader had been in the prison cell, did the young woman realize something. The man's eyes had never once strayed from her face.
An escape place started to formulate within her mind, and for the first time in two weeks, her mouth lifted into a small smile.
~o~
August 10, 1500
It was at the height of summer and almost three and a half months of torture that she finally got the man under her thumb. He stopped all attempts at raping her and brought her decent food at least once a week, and blessed water. The only thing he could do nothing about was the torture when Havloh came to 'visit' her, which was every three days just after noon.
Annetta was left bleeding and in pain after each session, and when Havloh left they came in to patch her up. The doctor that attended her wore the plague mask so she couldn't see his face and while his movements didn't cause her more pain, they weren't gentle. His actions were curt and cold and he never spoke the few times she had tried saying something to him. Annetta knew she wouldn't find help from him, and it was better that she didn't see his face because then he would be a man. That way to her he would just be that mask; expressionless and unfeeling.
She wished Havloh wore a mask, and that way she wouldn't see how much he enjoyed inflicting pain on her.
The injuries she received didn't go ignored in the leaders' presence; Pierto. When he had first told her his name, her heart had stopped a moment since she could have sworn he had said 'Piero', but when she had asked him to repeat it she realized it was Pierto. However, it was still too close as to cause a shudder to race down her spine before she squashed the feeling down. It was useless to think of such things now, and wouldn't be surprised if that man was dead by now. Annetta herself felt almost at death's door most days.
If it had been anyone else besides Pietro she would have gone the route of seduction, but she had quickly learned that he held no physical attraction toward her. It took Annetta almost two weeks to figure him out. He had an adolescent daughter, and Annetta appeared to be sixteen due to her small frame. In the state they had Annetta in, she probably looked young and vulnerable, and Annetta was sure the man saw his daughter when he looked at her. So, while Pietro was in the prison cell with her she milked her injuries for everything it was worth until she gained Pietro's sympathy.
Once she had it he would let his guard, and she would get the better of him and escape. It was likely that he would be killed for allowing her to escape, and it bothered her to think of it, but she had no other choice. That man...he was going to kill her unless she did something. It had been almost four months since she'd been captured and there was no sign of Ciro. So, it was with very little guilt that she would put her escape plan into play, and hoped she had the strength to get out of there.
~o~
August 17, 1500
When she finally made her escape, it was the week Pietro brought her food, and was in luck since he had brought a bowl of oatmeal with pieces of apples in it. It was cold but she was hungry, and had no qualms about eating it. Then she smashed the empty bowl over his head when he ducked to retrieve the water skin she had 'accidentally' dropped. The man staggered, stunned by the hit but wasn't knocked out and she used his momentary distraction to free her legs. She slipped down onto her feet but her legs felt like jelly, and had to grab onto the table or she would have face planted.
Annetta grabbed the dagger from his belt while he was still dazed from the hit to his head. "Forgive me, Pietro," she muttered before using the handle to knock him out. The man crumpled and she sat beside him because trying to crouch down right now was impossible. Annetta removed his shirt with some difficulty, and covered herself with it. She had no time for anything else if she wanted to get out of here, so she grabbed his sword and used it like a crutch and staggered to the door. When she tried to open it, she found that it might be too heavy and it might not have enough momentum to knock the guard out. So, she laid the sword aside, braced herself against the door and pushed it. Her added weight behind it was enough to get it going too fast too quickly and struggled to stay on. She heard a gasp, a sickening crunch and it was followed by a thud before the door came to a stop.
Annetta released the door, but not completely or she was sure her legs would give way under her if she put any weight on them. She had gotten dangerously thin the past four months, and her legs had also begun to atrophy and could barely move them. Annetta looked around the door and saw who she could only guess was Francesco, and he was crumpled against the wall and the door, unconscious with blood trailing from his broken nose. The woman didn't linger any longer and this time grabbed Francesco's sword since it was closer, and made her way slowly down the hallway. When she got to the main door, she wondered why she hadn't seen anyone.
Despite her suspicions, she couldn't stop now and opened the door a crack to peek outside, and almost slammed it closed again when a patrol came around the corner. The sun hadn't completely risen yet so it was still slightly dark, but she had enough light to see them. She watched them until they were out of sight and only waited a few moments before pushing the door open and hobbling outside.
They were sure to be guarding the entrance, but she would go around another way if need be and looked around the still slightly dark compound. She spotted some crates against the back of the stone wall that enclosed the property, and they could act as stairs. Annetta didn't think twice about it and moved as fast as she could toward them. It was then that the sun finally crested the horizon and sunlight flooded the vicinity.
Annetta staggered to a stop as it blinded her after so many months spent in that dark prison cell, the small hole in the ceiling only providing enough light to rival candlelight. She tried to keep moving forward, but Annetta didn't know which way she was going, or if she would be able to even get over the wall in her current state. If she did manage it, then she had no idea where she was or how far away from the main path she was. From what she had seen, she wasn't in the tower as she had imagined before, and had to be somewhere on the outskirts of Roma.
When she finally felt something under her outstretched hand, she heard a shout behind her and her eyes had slightly adjusted to the light that she saw that the patrol had spotted her. Annetta's legs still weren't cooperating with her, and she couldn't even get on the first crate before she was surrounded. She brandished the sword in two shaking hands, since malnutrition had weakened her and had no strength in her arms.
They disarmed her in two seconds flat as she was knocked to the ground, and wheezed as a booted foot came to rest harshly against her throat. She weakly clawed at it as the guard pushed down until she was sure he would crush her windpipe. "Lift your boot off her," a voice said coldly. Even as he removed his boot, Annetta felt terror press down on her chest and made her feel like she was lacking air. "Get her up." The young woman was pulled up and then supported between two beastly men, and she looked up into Havloh's black eyes "Who let the sparrow out of her cage?" he asked with a sigh, but his eyes were like sharp knives.
Annetta tried to cringe away when he reached out, but his fingers merely smoothed the material of her stolen shirt between the digits. "That's a fine piece of clothing you're wearing. Let's see if we can find the owner." He turned sharply and walked back toward the building, and the guards dragged her after him. Annetta was fervently praying that Pietro had already left and had somehow found another shirt.
However, as they entered inside, she could slightly see around Havloh's body that Pietro was just outside her prison cell and checking a still unconscious Francesco. He was still shirtless, and he had a dried trail of blood staining his temple.
"Messere Pietro," Havloh called in his accent, which sounded more like 'Misere Petrho', or something along those lines. Pietro seemed used to his accent since he straightened right away with an expressionless face, but he faltered the slightest bit when he saw Annetta being dragged between two of his guards. "It seems you not only let the prisoner escape, but you let her injure you as well." He motioned with his hand and the guards dragged forward before throwing her at Pietro's feet.
"Is this your shirt the via ratto had stolen?" he asked as if engaging in a pleasant conversation. There was no need for Pietro to answer, since his shirtless state was enough without him having to say anything. However, the man nodded slowly without taking his eyes off Havloh, and not daring to even look at the girl crumpled at his feet. "Well, perhaps you should take it back."
Pietro couldn't help looking startled then at the man's suggestion. "I do not understand, Messere Havloh," he muttered, glancing only momentarily at Annetta before his eyes quickly flittered away before Havloh read more into the look than he wanted to let on.
Havloh's head tilted the slightest bit. "You don't?" he inquired with a bit surprise. He turned to one of the other guards that had dragged the prisoner back. "Do you understand what I'm trying to say?" The man gave a sharp nod, and his eyes had never once left the helpless girl still lying at their feet. "Then, by all means, show your leader and clear his confusion."
The man grinned cruelly as he pushed his sheath so the belt slid further and rest against the small of his back. "With pleasure." Annetta tried to get up and scramble away, but the man kicked the back of her knee and she crumpled. Then he fell upon her, pulling the shirt off as she fought him like a wild cat, but she soon lost the only piece of clothing she had. The man threw it at Pietro, but the man didn't bother to catch it so it fell at his feet. His eyes were instead on the guard straddling the fighting girl.
"You look like you want to do something," Havloh whispered with that same infuriating smile he had on while he tortured Annetta. She trembled in fear even if that gaze wasn't directed at her, but she wasn't afraid for herself. Annetta was afraid for Pietro. She knew Havloh would force the other man's hand, and she hoped that he wouldn't let himself become ensnared in the trap.
The torturer signaled to the guard on her and he reached for his trousers, and she couldn't stop the cry that left her lips. Her legs were forced apart as he freed himself and Annetta was horrified as she tried to kick at him to no avail.
"Urk!" is the noise the guard made as a sword impaled his throat, and blood sprayed her face and naked chest. Annetta's head snapped up to Pietro as he held the sword in one trembling hand, which he pulled back before kicking the corpse off the young woman. There was no need for an order from Havloh as the rest of the patrol rushed him as Annetta screamed.
"No!"
Havloh calmly walked forward, grabbed her by the hair and dragged her across the floor away from the fighting men. "Смотрите и учитесь не ослушаться меня," he whispered to her in his native tongue. Watch and learn to not disobey me. Annetta didn't have to understand his language, but knew it had to do about defying him or something.
In the end, the man was disarmed and brought to his knees, but Havloh stopped them before they could kill him. "Take him into the prison cell and strap him to the table," he said; switching back to Italian. The bleeding man was forced inside and then strapped down where Annetta had spent the last few months being tortured. Annetta was dragged in by her hair by Havloh, and handed over to a guard. "Stand her up, and don't let this puttana close her eyes."
Havloh left the room as Annetta and Pietro both struggled to escape, but they were helpless to see what fated awaited them at the hands of this sadistic bastard. Annetta heard footsteps that signaled Havloh's return, but was confused by the scraping sound that accompanied him along with a second pair of footsteps. "It's funny the things one sees and learns while working as a doctor," the man said as he stepped back into the room. "A man with his intestines hanging out of his body, and surviving after having them shoved back in and sewn up. Then there was a woman who got a knife embedded into her skull, and she was still alive and talking."
He walked further inside to stand over Pietro who was still straining against the shackles. "The one that most shocked me was a young boy that accidentally fell from the roof of his home and landed face first. His whole," he waved a hand over his features, "it was split in half, and he was still conscious. I managed to stitch it back together, but he bled out too quickly for it to do any good."
Havloh glanced toward the door as a man that could only be called a giant walked in; having to duck to pass through the high doorway. He was dragging along a large hammer that would take at least three normal sized men to lift. "We're going to do a little experiment. I was a fumbling twenty-three year old man when that boy died, and it's been almost thirty years since then. So, I'm confident I'll be able to do a more effective job this time."
Annetta shook her head as she yelled when the huge man lifted the hammer and angled it so a corner of it was facing down. She fought against the guards' hold to try and save Pietro, or at the very least close her eyes. However, she had no strength to break his hold, and his hand forcing her eyelids back was unmovable.
"Это ваш ошибка," Havloh sneered at her. This is your fault. She felt those words to be true even if she didn't understand him, and she could not tear her eyes away from Pietro. The man in question had been staring at his impending doom as the hammer was hefted up, but now his eyes darted toward her.
"I'm so sorry," she sobbed, tears streaking her face. She hadn't meant for this to happen, and because of her actions a man was about to die and leave his family to fend for themselves. As the hammer swung down, Annetta swore that if she survived, then she would find them somehow. She would find and protect them.
CRUNCH!
Annetta's breath hitched in a sob as the blunt force of the heavy hammer split Pietro's face in two as several teeth were knocked out and hit the ground in front of her. He was making a horrible gurgling sound and realized that Pietro was screaming, but his jaw had been shattered and tongue pulverized.
Havloh had stepped away but now he moved back to stand beside Pietro's brutalized body. "It's a shame I'm not a doctor anymore, or I'd at least try to save him." He shrugged carelessly as turned his gaze onto the young woman now. "While he bleeds to death I'll show him what will become of his protected via ratto."
He gave a sharp nod and the man holding her released and kicked her to the ground. The other three men from the patrol and even the giant man removed their weapons and armory, and proceeded to lower their trousers. "Make sure you scream loud enough so Messere Pietro will hear you, Мало Воробья."
Annetta screamed. She sobbed and cried as the four men brutality raped her while Pietro lay dying a mere three feet away. When they had finished sating their lust and she lay like a broken doll on the floor, covered in semen and blood and dirt, she could hear the ragged breath still coming from the man on the table. They had been momentarily left alone, since Pietro was still shackled to the table, and Annetta could barely lift her head where she lay on the filthy ground.
However, as she noticed the breaths coming fewer in between, she lifted up on shaking arms and dragged her beaten body closer to the suffering man. She collapsed against it, back pressed along the side of it and reached up over her head. Annetta groped blindly for a moment before her fingers found his, and she felt tears sting her eyes as his longer digits closed around hers.
"I will get out of here, and when I do I will find your family and protect them. Da Dio IO lo giuro!" His fingers tightened around hers before they went slack, and the harsh breathing tapered off. Annetta wept long and hard, and held onto his hand until they forcefully took her away.
~o~
November, 1500
A cough raked her body as she lay shivering in the cold prison cell. Her lips burned from how dry they were, having cracked and split open so many times that running her tongue along them hurt too much. She was huddled in the corner of the filthy room and the iron shackle around her right ankle was unbearably cold.
Annetta knew that winter had come by the cold days and even colder nights. She only knew that it was November because of the whispering from the guards. They liked to speak during the night to fill the many quiet hours until sunrise. Nobody spoke with her save for Havloh, and when they came for her in the dark hours, Annetta closed her eyes and went to another place in her mind.
The torture lessons had turned into language lessons, ridiculously enough, and she now had a very basic grasp of Russian. It seems Havloh liked to hiss his nasty comments in his native tongue, and taught her so she would understand him. After all, whispering into ear in an attempt to bring down her morale and break her unshakeable silence would have no affect if she didn't understand him.
Annetta hadn't uttered a single word of what he wanted to know, and anything she told him wasn't even worth the effort it had taken to say it. She would be lying if she said that she wasn't growing tired. They had moved from the place where they had previously been, and this time she was sure she was in one of the towers. She could now move around more easily, so her legs now had more strength but she was deprived of food and water for three days before Havloh came to visit her. Annetta was as weak as a new born kitten then and at his mercy.
At the present moment she was sporting a dislocated shoulder, a sprained wrist, and a broken rib that pressed against her lung if she made any sudden movements and made breathing difficult. The doctor, since Havloh wouldn't clean and bandage her wounds despite being capable of doing so, had wrapped her chest as she had previously done to hide her gender. It had been four days since then and Havloh hadn't returned yet. Either he was occupied with other things, or was allowing her time to recuperate. After all, if her rib punctured her lung then she was likely to die and he didn't want to kill her. Well, not yet, at least.
"Он забыл о вас," Havloh had murmured into her ear like a lover at the end of their last session. He has forgotten about you. Annetta had vehemently denied his words with every fiber of her being as she had spat at him. She had learned quickly not to spit at him because he always made her eat it, but she had been so affected by his words at the time that she hadn't cared about that. Because in her heart, she was starting to believe it.-
~o~
Il Solitario Assassino - The Solitary Assassin
via ratto - street rat
piccolo ratto - small rat
Basta - no more; enough; that will do
Мало Воробья - little sparrow
Это ваш ошибка - This is your error/fault
Смотрите и учитесь не ослушаться меня. - Watch and learn to not disobey me.
Da Dio IO lo giuro - By God I swear it
Он забыл о вас - He has forgotten about you