The floor of the lamp lit corridor seemed to both love and loathe him. Softly it endured the caress of his billowing black shroud, which snaked and slide across it with no hindrance, and in the flickering shadows cast by the torches, the material seemed to move with a life of it's own. But the flagstones resisted his feet. They did not yield for the force which he placed upon it, again and again. Each time his metal shod foot hit the stone, the whole hallway seemed to yell out in indignation, so that his passage could not go unnoticed. The walls reverberated with the thud thud thud of his footsteps.
So she heard him long before she ever saw him. It was the clang of metal upon stone that snapped her out of the fitful doze which she had slipped into, and, with a sickening clarity of mind she knew that whoever was walking out there in the world beyond her door was coming closer, and was coming for her.
She made a futile attempt to move-where she was trying to move to she did not know, there was no escape from the tiny round room , she knew that, but the sudden fear that the footsteps had instilled in her had give her need of action. However, even though she put all her energy towards it, all she could do was open her eyes.
He stood as a statue while the sluggish beast unwound the chains and undid the locks one by one. After what had seemed like an eternity the orc made an awkward bow and stood aside, seeming pleased with himself for completing such a momentous task. The cloaked being step forward, unravelling the great key which had been tied around his wrist as he did so, and slid the hunk of twisted iron into to the rust incrusted lock. And with flick of his wrist and a push, the great oak door creaked open.
She winced and covered her eyes as the firelight washed over the slabs of her cell, for to her the light seemed to be unbearably bright. And it was the sight of her cowering behind her hands which greeted her visitors.
She was wretched to behold. Months without any proper food or water had left her weak and diminished. Her skin clung to her naked body as if afraid to let go, a delicate paper thin layer that seemed about to tear at any moment. Every laboured rise and fall of her chest made it appear that her ribs would rip it asunder, for they protruded out her sides in a most grotesque and unnatural nature. No muscle seemed to remain upon her, the line of every bone could be clearly seen along her limbs and every joint seemed to be enlarged to the point of deformity. Her head, the only thing that was actually still of normal size, hung at the end of her tiny neck like a deadweight, every lump and bump upon it visible due to the absence of hair upon her bone coloured scalp There was not one part of her naked body that wasn't damaged, bruised limbs, chaffed thighs, grazed hands, even the skin that stretched over her skull , it was adorned with partially healed wounds from the rather rough job that the orcs had done when shearing her hair. "As close to the skin as possible" their master had said, unfortunately they had taken a lot of that off as well, so now her shining white crown had turned a sickly brown with the dried blood they didn't think to wash off.
The four orcs that had accompanied him were smiling at their handiwork, it made them swell with pride to know that this once beautiful, free creature of light was now cowering beneath their masters feet. And it was their doing, they had inflicted the pain that had made her scream, provided the food that ensured she was only just on the brink of surviving, they had been responsible for the darkness and solitude that made her forget……
She lifted a shaky hand away from her eyes, willing them, even though the light seemed intent on burning them out her sockets, to open, so that she may look upon her imprisoner, so that she may look upon anything at all that was not darkness. He stood by the door, his robes pooled around him so it appeared he had simply grown out from the ground and stood in that one spot between her and the real world for eternity , a smooth black tree crowned not with leaves but with thorns. Thorns that jutted out at awkward angles with sharp straight lines. Leaves weren't straight. He was a tree you could not climb, a tree you could not gain fruit as sweet as the sun to sustain you, nor a tree that could give you shelter from the wind or the rain, the sun or the snow, or the ice. He had no branches. No leaves. Just thorns. He was a tree that could hurt you, could reduce your hands to jagged shreds if you ever touched him. He was………..
"Death" she thought, "that is what he is, a tree of death"
Through the thick iron slats of his helm he studied her carefully, taking in every detail, "for" he thought "It will be the smallest twitch or jerk that will indicate how far gone she is, the answer to my question will not present itself without resistance………….."
It was then that he noticed her straining to lift her eyelids, and he smiled. It was so easy, she was forfeiting herself by being so……….insolent as to look upon him.
The tree moved, it glided across the floor much in the same way a great bird swoops down and skims the sea, and drew towards her. She felt the tired muscle beneath her breastbone grow tight as it tried in vain to give her the strength to get away from its now outstretched fingers. "Move!" it screamed. "Get up and fight against this". But before she had time to even draw breath he had crouched before her and was running the yellow nails of his withered hand across the roundness of her sunken cheek. He sighed, for although she was bruised and bloody, her skin to his touch felt as smooth as fine silk, the touch of human flesh, warm human flesh was something he missed. She drew back slightly, his touch sent shivers down every nerve in her body, and he grabbed her face with his whole hand, digging his nails in to the soft flesh till he drew blood, making sure she could not wriggle from his grasp. But she seemed beyond all feeling, for the only indication that she was aware of any discomfort whatsoever was a brief flicker of her bloodshot eyes.
But he still was not mollified. There was one thing yet he had to know before he could precede any further. For if he went ahead and fulfilled his command without first ensuring this simple fact then it could easily backfire, and the consequences would be dire, for him and all others under the command of his master.
"what is your name little one" he rasped into her ear. He felt the muscle in her throat move up and down in a swallowing action beneath his thumb, and expected her too speak, but no sound departed her lips, indeed, she did not open her mouth.
Her mind was in turmoil. For what had seemed like for forever she had just an emptiness, not even the edge of thoughts to occupy her consciousness. But now, his question seemed to open the floodgates to a world of images suppressed in the corners of soul. The flowed through her behind her eyelids in a great wave, rolling into and over one another like the breaking of the surf so that she could define nothing. And then, as suddenly it was there, it disappeared, leaving her only with the blankness of before, except it was worse now. She realised that great gaping void within her was once filled, and now she felt hollow, empty, lost. She did not know her name.
He had pulled his hand away from her as she began to stare, aware that this was a crucial moment, that this would break or make her fate, and his. And when the blank look remained and the look of panic filled her eyes he let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. They had waited a long time for this, the impatience had made him weary, there was so much for her to do, so much that could be achieved with her under his control. But he had to wait, for over a year all that could be done was to sit and do nothing, or just to observe. And now, today, this very moment, it was time for action, time to begin the process that would ensure his dominion over all, except his master.
With the back of his left hand he struck her across the face, forcing her head to hit of the stone. She did not cry out, or even moan but merely attempted to pull her soiled face up again, trying with every fibre to retain consciousness so that she might catch something, a glimpse, the tiniest inkling, of what had just coursed through her. What was that shadow on the path, what direction had the wind been blowing that leaf that flitted across her face.
" When you are asked a question you shall answer it uloga snaga! Do you understand, Gashn!"
His voice was low and crawled up the floor into her very bones, pulsating so that it echoed in her head till she felt dizzy.
" Either you are so incredibly quiet that your words have been lost to the air" and at this his mouth was again twisted into that horrible grimace, which made the lacerations around his purple lips split open wider and seep. "Or you again have disobeyed me" his words hung in the stagnant air for a moment while he waited for a response, but their was none.
"Perhaps your throat is dry to articulate maath-izub, allow us to whet your whistle…..Trutharb" he nodded to the heavy set orc nearest to the door he stepped forward, pulling a brimming wine skin made from around his neck and jerking the cork from it as he hobbled towards her crippled form. He was very heavy set, his naked belly hung over the black leather sword belt he wore and had bandied legs that bent at out when he walked.
Hauling her up by the scruff of her neck he prised open her jaw with his meaty, calloused hands and began to try and pour a thick, syrup liquid down her gullet. But even though the pressure upon her face was almost enough to break bones and snap out teeth, her brief reunion with her memories had strengthened her soul, if not her body, so she resisted, refused to open moth so the luke-warm serum slid down her face and unto her chest and the floor. Another of the orcs came forward, this one with a cruel face and a beaked nose, lending his strength to the task in hand by pulling her lips apart and digging his claw like nails into her ribs. His grip was like a vice, and she found herself yielding, beginning to taste the trickle of sickly sweet moistness down the back of her throat. She felt the bile rise within her, and almost immediately began to violently retch, her tiny frame convulsing in horrible spasms. The orcs released their hold and took a step back, causing her to fall hard, only just catching herself with her barely healed hands so that her head did not crack on the cold ground, she had only enough strength to let herself slide down.
Something was wrong. Cold sweat seeped from every pore and a tingling sensation which started at the base of her spine began to filter through her. Her stomach attempted to make short work of the little of the substance she had swallowed by expelling it immediately ,but although her body shook with the effort they were dry heaves, the only product being the throaty sound that filled the tiny cold room with every tremor that went through her.
They watched on, motionless, not quite sure what their next move was to be. It wasn't long till all pairs of eyes swivelled to him, for it was his command they waited, for, they could do more till he was entirely satisfied. Anticipation floated through the air like an almost invisible thread of blue smoke.
Finally, with a turn on his heel and a swish of his abundant robes he advanced towards the door with long, purposeful strides, his footfalls again almost unbearably audible.
"Come" he said, not even bothering to turn his head to ensure their obedience. But he knew their would never be any cause for alarm for the ors had immediately picked up her arms and began to drag her out into the world beyond the wall.