Chapter 24: In The Dungeons
The jailer woke them the next morning by shoving two wooden bowls of a thin, watery gruel into the cell. Logan, on the floor, groaned in pain as Jubilee gently eased his head off her lap and reached for the bowls. There were no eating utensils provided, so she picked up one bowl, used her fingers to scoop up a bit of the mess in the bowl, and held it to his lips. He groaned again.
"Here," her voice was soft. "Logan, please. You need to eat. If you get too weak and die, I'll be alone. I don't want to be alone here. Please, Logan."
The soft voice gradually penetrated the haze of agony filling Logan's mind. He struggled to make sense of the words, struggled to find the strength to open his eyes and look at the owner of that voice. And as soon as he did, he closed them again. The liar.
He grabbed the bowl out of the girl's hands and painfully dragged himself off to the opposite corner of the cell. She said nothing, just looked at him with sorrow in those big blue eyes. The look in them made him uneasy, and he dropped his gaze down to the bowl. She quietly went and retrieved the second bowl, sat down in the corner of the cell, and began to eat wordlessly.
He put the bowl down when he was done, and she collected it, handing it to the jailer when he came to collect the empty vessels. He stayed there for a few extra moments, looking her body up and down lasciviously, but she ignored him and went back to sit in her corner. After a moment he walked on.
She was quiet for a short time after he left. Then she ventured a timid, "Logan…"
He held up a hand. "I don't wanna hear it," he said harshly, his throat raw from screaming his pain in the torture chamber the day before. "You lied ta me, Lee. You used me. I'll never forgive that. You shoulda told me you was a girl the day ya woke up in my room at the inn. Instead, ya kept it a secret, and ya lied ta me. You told me yer people had 'traditions' about showin' the body, but it was just a way ta cover up who ya really was, wasn't it? Yer so intent on gittin' yer revenge against the man who killed yer parents you didn't care who ya hadda deceive in order ta git that revenge, did ya?" He shook his head. "An' Renee knew all along. S'why she told me ta let ya have yer secrets, why she told me ta keep ya an' not trade ya off ta another knight. Because any other knight woulda made ya perform…personal…services, and you'd'a been found out." He shook his head in disgust, angry at the girl who sat silently in front of him. "And all that time…the care ya took with my tack, the trainin' ya gave my horse, ya kept tellin' me ya cared about me. When ya saved my life ya said ya cared about me. That was just a lie too. You just wanted yer revenge. You used me. Well, you ain't gonna use me any more."
"No!" the girl moaned softly. "No, I didn't, Logan, please, I do care about you, I really do! I love you! I didn't mean to hurt you, I really didn't. When I first woke up and I saw you, I did think maybe you'd be the way I could get my revenge. But then when we spent all that time on the road together, I started to like you, and later when you took such good care of me I started to care for you too. Logan…I love you. Please."
Logan rolled his eyes and stared at the stone ceiling. "An' I'm supposed ta believe that, on top of all the other lies ya done tol' me. Yer a liar, Jubilee, an' I don't trust ya anymore." He turned his face away from her and sat there, ignoring her. After a time, she went back to her corner of the cell and curled up on the pile of rags, hot tears streaming from her eyes. He saw it out the corner of his own eyes, and his own heart twisted in his chest…but he was still angry, and the anger overrode his feelings for her.
Jubilee lay on the pile of rags, tears trickling silently from her eyes. He hated her. He didn't believe her. He didn't trust her anymore. Her heart thudded down into her stomach, and stayed there as sorrow weighed down her shoulders. She loved him…but he'd never love her back. She'd ruined that. Oh, God, she prayed softly, please let them kill me, let me die, it would only be a mercy now.
The sound of footsteps broke into both their thoughts, and Logan looked up. Julian stood at the door to the cell, smiling. "Well. Look how the mighty have fallen. Logan, the greatest knight in King Richard's court, and his faithful squire, both down here in the dirt with the condemned." He smiled. "Gallas has some small affairs of state to take care of today, so Logan gets a reprieve. Gallas wants to be present at your interrogation. Enjoy the respite. You," he turned to Jubilee, "will take your turn in the torture chamber. If you consent to certain…services…I might wish you to perform, I might be tempted to leniency."
Hatred kindled in Jubilee's eyes. "Pigs will fly before I crawl willingly into your bed, Sir Julian," she hissed, the emphasis on the word 'Sir' making it sound like a curse.
"Let's see how brave you are in a few hours, shall we?" Julian smiled as the guard pushed open the door and grabbed Jubilee's arm. Logan kept his eyes averted as she passed him, refusing to look. He was still angry…and he also didn't want her to see the fear in his eyes. Not for himself, but for her. He knew what he'd endured in the chamber. What might Julian do to her? Despite his anger, and his firm promise to himself not to care about her, he felt a nagging prickle of anxiety.
Jubilee hung between the two posts, unable to scream anymore. Shudders of agony racked her body, and all she could think of was Stop the pain!
But Julian wasn't going to stop. Not until she said yes. And that was the one word she couldn't, wouldn't, give him. So she hung, and sobbed, and tried to bear the pain as best she could. Her wrists were raw from her constant struggling, and her throat hurt from her screaming. Finally she passed out.
Julian stood back, wiping his forehead. Perfect. He hadn't broken that honey-gold skin and drawn blood; but it was quite likely that the waste bucket in her cell was going to be full of discolored bodily waste. The only marks on her body were the two huge, dark bruises caused by the heavy rod he was slamming into the small of her back, the rod that was bruising her kidneys and causing her indescribable pain. The dim light from the fire at the far side of the torture chamber softened the lines and angles of her face. She really was beautiful. Julian decided he would grow her hair out. She'd look prettier with long hair.
He woke her with a dash of cold water in her face. She jerked awake, gasping in shock, and he picked up the rod and brought it around. He'd worked on her kidneys, and she hadn't broken. Maybe if he worked on her front…
He'd thought her throat too raw for the kind of agonized screaming she was doing now, but apparently he'd been wrong. She still had plenty of voice left for the pain he was inflicting on her chest. He stopped when the skin was a mass of dark bruises, and leaned in close. "Will you?"
Jubilee shuddered. She couldn't bear this anymore, she couldn't. She'd die. And what was she trying to save herself for, anyway? Logan? He didn't want her anymore. She had to focus on keeping alive to escape with Logan. That was all that mattered. If her body was the price she had to pay for survival and escape, she'd pay it. "Yes," she sobbed out, her heart breaking on the word. "Yes."
Julian smiled. The guards stepped forward, unbuckled the straps on her wrists and ankles, and half-carried the sagging figure out of the torture chamber. They dragged her out of the dungeons, dropped her in the dust of the courtyard, and threw bucketfuls of water over her, washing off the grime and filth and dust of the dungeons from her skin. Julian snapped his fingers, and two maids came forward, each taking one of Jubilee's arms and leading her stumbling into the kitchens.
Jubilee came back to her senses in a tub full of warm, steaming water. For a moment she sat in there, luxuriating in the feel of the heat soaking the soreness from her bones, dulling the ache in her kidneys and her breasts. Two sets of hands roved over her body under the water, washing her limbs and torso gently, and the scent of lavender and valerian reached her nostrils.
She cracked open an eye, and saw two women kneeling beside her as she lay in the tub. One was older, wearing a dark, plain dress, and had eyes like tiny dark pebbles in a weathered, tanned face; the other one was a blond younger girl with blue eyes like Jubilee's own. "What…" she tried to say, but her voice came out as a harsh croak. One of the women held a cup of water to her lips, clean, cool water, and she drank thirstily. The two women let her drink as much as she wanted to, and then indicated she should stand and step out of the tub. She obeyed, and they proceeded to dry her off with scented linen cloths, being especially gentle with her bruised lower back and breasts. Jubilee froze as she realized what they were doing, and began to laugh a little hysterically. "Well, I guess the traitor knight doesn't want to have a stinking piece of dungeon scum in his bed, is that it?" The women said nothing, just took out bottles of scented oil and began to caress her limbs with it. Jubilee submitted, staring at her toes. She had slipped the Queen's ring around her second toe; it was a little loose, but it was the only place she could think of to hide it, and so far it had worked. With her feet wrapped in the rags of her red squire's uniform, no one had seen the tiny band of gold, and the scarlet enamelwork of the Queen's Seal.
The women then took her to a small antechamber, and opened a drawer. The older woman pulled out a long, sheer gown of sapphire cloth, so finely woven that Jubilee's skin showed clearly through it. She draped the folds around Jubilee's body, making the skirt hang just so, tightening the cloth-of-gold sash around her trim waist. Then they took out long golden chains and a stiff choker of fine gold links. The older woman put the choker around Jubilee's neck, and it was only after she slid golden bangles with tiny locks on them did Jubilee realize what they were for. The chains locked to the collar and ran out to her wrists, and then more gold bangles were locked around her ankles. Chains ran from her wrists and collar down to her feet, and rings were added to each hand and foot. They saw the tiny gold band around her toe, but when the older woman looked up into Jubilee's eyes and saw the fear there, she said nothing, but deliberately slid another ring onto her toe to cover the thin, tiny gold ring.
Thus attired, they led Jubilee down he hallway and up the stairs. Jubilee stared up the steps, biting her lip. "Where are you taking me?" she cried. "Where?" She struggled in their grasp, refusing to move another step, her golden chains clashing.
The older woman stopped and pointed up, then tugged Jubilee's arm as if to say 'come on.' Jubilee stood her ground. "What, cat got your tongue?"
The blond woman drew her palm back and slapped Jubilee's face so hard Jubilee saw stars. She stared in disbelief at her, and the older woman caught the younger one's hand to prevent the second slap. Then she turned to face Jubilee and silently opened her mouth. Where there should have been a tongue was a stump of cauterized flesh.
Jubilee stared, shock replacing her anger. "I'm sorry," she stammered. "I didn't know. Did Gallas order it?" The blond woman nodded. Jubilee sighed. "Are you taking me up to him?" The blond shook her head. "Julian?" The older woman nodded.
Jubilee sighed and dropped her arms. "I'm sorry." She started to ascend the stairs. "I guess being Julian's bed warmer is better than being Gallas's bed warmer." The older woman nodded emphatically, opening the door at the top of the stairs.
Jubilee stepped into the room, her chains clinking, and stared around her as the women closed the door behind her, leaving her alone. The stone floor was covered with a thick, luxurious fur, probably wolf, from the way it looked. There was a large four-poster bed with sheer curtains around it, and large pillows at the head of the bed. Comfortable padded chairs sat around the room and the single table, and a large, cheerful fire burned in the fireplace.
A low chuckle came from the shadowed corner of the fireplace, and Jubilee's hatred rose at the sound of that chuckle. To hide it, she fell to her knees, her mind working furiously. If she pretended Julian had broken her, maybe she could get him to relax his guard. If she could do that, she could escape, get down to the dungeons, and free Logan, and they could escape. And pretending to be broken wouldn't be hard to do; she still ached horribly, all over, from her beating at Julian's hands in the torture chamber.
"You look much nicer cleaned up," Julian smiled, walking out of the shadows by the fireplace where he'd been poking the logs. "Will you cooperate, or should I tie you down?"
Jubilee remained kneeling, bowing her head. Julian stopped in front of her, reached down, and stroked her short black hair. "You look much prettier in a dress than in boy's rags," he said smiling. "But I still prefer you naked." He grabbed the neckline of her dress and ripped it apart. The sheer fabric tore all the way down, leaving her naked and exposed to his hungry, lustful gaze. She cringed as he grabbed the back of her neck and forced her to look up at him, closed her eyes and tried to restrain her anger as he crushed his lips down on hers. When he snapped a loose gold chain to her collar and led her to the bed, she closed her mind and bit her lip. And when he took her, cruelly ignoring her cries of pain as her virgin body was forced against its will to accept him, she suppressed her sobs and bore it, fighting the waves of pain and humiliation crashing through her. She offered no resistance to him when he tuned her over on her belly and tied her spread-eagle to the bedposts and took her that way. And when he picked up the poker, heated in the fire, and applied it to her thigh, leaving a livid burn mark on her skin forever, she could no longer protest to anything, too numb from pain and exhaustion to think of anything but acceding to his demands just to survive.
Logan grew alarmed when Jubilee didn't return with the gathering darkness. He wouldn't have admitted it, even to himself, but he did care for her, and he was worried. Whenever he heard footsteps in the corridor, he'd turn to the door, hoping to see her, but she never came. When night fell and the jailer came with a single bowl of gruel, he got up his nerve to ask what had happened to Jubilee. The guard just shook his head and turned away.
He spent that night in agonized waiting, but in the morning he had something else to occupy his mind, because Gallas and his torturer came for Logan again. Again he spent the day screaming, racked with agony as Gallas asked him who the Queen's other spies were, and whether the king was going to be returning to the capital anytime soon. Again and again Logan howled that he didn't know, but his protests were useless, because Gallas didn't believe him. That evening he was dragged back to his cell a shaking, bloody wreck of a man, and found someone waiting there with soft hands and cool water and cloths to clean his limbs and care for his wounds. He knew it was Jubilee, but anger overwhelmed him and made him sob with rage, because she had apparently struck a deal with Julian or someone who had taken her out of the cells and bathed and clothed her. He could smell lavender on her skin and hair and on the soft sheer fabric under him, and he cursed her aloud, weakly, because as much as he wanted to reject the help she offered him, he was too weak to push her away.
It was unfortunately true that the human body could get used to anything, and as the days went by he got used to the scanty food, musty water, and never-ending pain. One evening he feigned weakness when they brought him back, and Jubilee was brought to his cell, smelling of that damn lavender oil, to take care of them.
"Traitor!" he screamed at her, mad with fury and pain. And he charged at her, pinning her to the barred door and slapping her with all the strength left in his body. "Ya live up there," slap, "In comfort an' luxury," slap, "While I'm down here sufferin'!" slap. "Julian," slap, "He wasn't the only traitor in court, was he?" Slap. "Ya betrayed me," slap, "Left me here ta die," slap, "So ya can warm his bed," slap, "an' be fed good food," slap, "An' sleep in comfort! You bitch!" Slap. "An' you said you loved me!"
Jubilee was crying as she slumped to the floor, trying to protect her face from his blows. "Logan, please! It's not like that!" and she cried out as he kicked her savagely in the ribs. "Please, Logan, it's not like that, let me explain…" but he was in too much pain and too angry with her to listen, and after a few moments the guard opened the gate and dragged her out. Logan didn't turn around as the door closed, didn't turn around as he heard her sobs echo down the corridor, to finally end with the slamming of the heavy wooden door leading up to the courtyard.
The same guard came down an hour later, and shoved a bowl of gruel in. "You won't be seeing her again," he said as Logan picked up the bowl.
"Good," Logan growled savagely. "Little traitor. I'll kill her myself if I ever see her again."