Warning: This chapter contains a graphic torture scene.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Arslan woke with a start, hearing an uproar in the centre of the camp, and ran towards the noise, along with Osman. They had woken at the same time. He heard a keen wailing from the Royal pavilion, and dreaded the worst. Suddenly, Zengi emerged and spotted the pair of them. "Follow me" commanded the Prefect. He led them a short distance to a separate tent. "Wait here" he said, before leaving them. After half an hour, a party entered, led by Zengi, dragging a bound man along with them. Another man entered, who he recognised as Lord Varys, the Master of Whisperers. The Prefect nodded to Arslan and his tent mate. "Cut off his clothes, then tie him to the chair. " He nodded to a heavy wooden seat. They hastened to obey. Lord Varys spoke calmly to the pair. "This man attempted to murder the Queen's Grace; he did murder her closest friend, Lady Missandei." Arslan felt a wave of hatred for the man. He deserved whatever was coming to him. "You may go" said Varys to the others, who filed out.
"You will learn nothing from me, Spider" muttered the naked prisoner.
Varys sighed. "Why make this difficult for yourself? How often have I heard those words uttered? How often have I heard the man who uttered them screaming his confession? " Varys suddenly glanced at him. "What is your name, soldier?"
"Arslan" he replied.
"Very well, Arslan, I require a brazier, a sack of charcoal, some kindling, and a pair of pokers".
"Do you think you frighten me, eunuch?" muttered the prisoner.
"Do I think I frighten you? You are in the power of four men who mean you nothing but harm. Yes, I think I frighten you." Arslan left, before hearing the rest of the exchange. He found the items easily enough, before returning to the tent. "Good" commented Lord Varys. "Place the brazier between us, and light the kindling. I want the irons to be well-heated, before we begin." He smiled at the prisoner, chilling, hideous. Arslan dreaded the thought of being in this man's power. After a few minutes, Varys said, "Now, I think it's only fair that I should explain how this will work. I will ask you a question, and you will give me the answer. Refuse, or lie to me, and this excellent young man will apply a poker to whichever part of your body I want him to. "
"The Gods are with me" the man snarled back.
"The Gods? " Varys laughed. "The four of us are your Gods, now. Give me your name. That's easy enough, isn't it?"
"Go to the Seven Hells, woman!" Varys sighed, before commanding Arslan. "The right nipple. Grind it in." Arslan did so, as the prisoner screamed. Arslan smelled an odour similar that of roasted pork. For a moment, he wanted to retch. "Does this trouble you, Arslan?" asked the eunuch. "I can get another to take your place." To be honest, it did somewhat. But, he would never admit it. "Not in the least, my lord" he replied. He replaced the poker in the brazier.
"What is your name?" repeated Varys.
" Fuck you!"
"I doubt it" replied the eunuch. "The scrotum, Arslan, but gently". The man screeched as the hot iron was applied.
"Crabbe, Robyn Crabbe" he gasped out.
"There now, that wasn't difficult, was it? But are you telling the truth, that's the question." This time Varys picked up the poker. "This requires a more delicate touch" he explained to Arslan who saw real fear in the prisoner's face, for the first time. Gently, very gently, Varys applied the end of the poker to the man's left eye socket as Zengi held his head still. The eye sizzled and burst as the man howled.
"Robyn Crabbe, it's the truth!" he screamed. And so it went on, for the best part of two hours, so far as Arslan could tell, as Varys relentlessly questioned the man, and they burned him. By the end, Crabbe scarcely resembled a human being. Both eyes and one ear were gone, his prick and balls were nothing but melted flesh, and most of his face was burned away. A stench of shit mingled with that of burned flesh, as the man had lost control of his bowels towards the end. Yet, he still lived, breathing hoarsely.
"Are you satisfied he has told us all that he knows?" Varys asked Zengi.
"Quite satisfied. Do you want me to make an end?' asked the Prefect, pointing to his dagger.
"I think first, I must speak to the Queen's Grace. She may wish to hear his confession, in person". Varys left the tent.
"Arslan, you're a Chosen Man aren't you?" remarked Zengi.
"Yes, my lord."
"Well, you've shown you've got the stomach of a warrior, tonight. I'm promoting you to Corporal. You can take his place as Chosen Man, Osman." They both thanked their commander. A short while later, guards filed into the tent, followed by Varys and the Queen. Arslan and Osman both bowed low to her. She stared down at the tortured man, her gaze like that of a basilisk. Zengi flung a pale of water into the man's face, causing him to splutter back into consciousness. "Speak before the Queen, reptile" he commanded.
He drew a long, shuddering, breath. "Your Grace, my name is Robyn Crabbe, I am a Septon. I attempted to murder your Grace tonight..."
"Continue, scum" commanded the Prefect.
"I murdered three guards and the Lady Missandei, your Grace. I...I was commanded to murder you by the High Septon himself. And, Lady Olenna Tyrell. Oh Gods, put an end to this pain!"
"Did anyone in this camp assist you?" asked the Queen.
"No, your Grace. Septon Hawe, who ministers to Hayford, left food, clothing, poison, and other items, for me, in a tree by the river. But, no one here gave me help."
"Your Grace, rest assured we have questioned him thoroughly on these points. Men have been sent to arrest Hawe. He will be put to the question in turn."
"Then, keep this creature alive until Hawe has been taken. We need to see if their stories match. Afterwards..." Arslan saw the Queen draw her finger across her throat. She turned and left the tent, with her guards.
Notes:
While hideous, it should be noted that the use of torture would be almost universally considered a legitimate and effective means of obtaining information in this world. Daenerys is frequently condemned for resorting to torture against suspected insurgents in Meereen, in book canon; yet, Jon Snow, Stannis, Tyrion, Prince Doran, the Brotherhood without Banners, Jaime, Qorin Halfhand, Mance Rayder, Lord Manderly, every Master or Mistress of Whisperers, all employ torture. The bad guys are the ones who torture for fun.