This is an amalgamation of a few chapters, but there were a couple of scenes that I really had to write.
WARNING: there is torture in this chapter, so if you don't want to read i would advise skipping from "Mon's father sends her..." onwards
Chapter 16
· After speaking to Halt and Gilan, Mon goes back to Caraway so that she can continue spying on el jefe and every few days she sneaks out to pass any information to the Rangers who then relay this to Castle Araluen
· Everly helps Mon get dressed etc. and is quite talented in doing her hair into practical braids or pulled back. Mon tries to taunt Edmund by pretending to have feelings for Riley and she can see the storm behind his eyes as she hangs onto Riley's arm and can't help being amused. And given his words just before she left Castle Araluen, he can't really do anything about it and spends a lot of time pacing around his cell
· Mon continues to train and also gets Riley to teach her how to read and write
· El jefe sends a message to Araluen stating that King Fernando would like to discuss terms of surrender. He wants Cassandra to sail to Iberion to speak to the King directly in a power play. If she does, he says that he will hand over Edmund, otherwise he will remain in the dungeons under Caraway
· In Araluen, Cassandra receives these demands about a week after Will returns. A part of her wants to go to Iberion but all her advisors remind her that she can't give into demands. She is the Queen now and no longer a Princess, and not only that but she's with child so her doctors advise against it. Horace does his best to calm her but Cassandra feels absolutely lost. She wants to send her armies to stamp out the threat once and for all but it will take months to organise the army and even longer to traverse the snows. She also wants to do whatever it takes to get Edmund back but she knows that if she does so, she will harm her unborn child. In the end she refuses on the advice of Sir Geoffrey who takes an especially harsh stance
· When el jefe gets the news of this outright refusal during dinner with Mon, he is absolutely furious. Mon is scared that he'll start destroying things, but something just as scary is his quiet anger, which is so calculating. Mon eventually calms him down and has to reveal that Cassandra is with child, so she would never travel to Iberion herself anyway
As my father opened the sealed piece of parchment and began to read through, I knew exactly what Cassandra's answer was without seeing the words myself. I shouldn't have expected anything less. A red tinge began to creep up el jefe's neck and onto his face. His thick eyebrows lowered as his eyes flickered back and forth. When he finished he just stared at the words for a second, clenched his jaw and then scrunched up the parchment and threw it across the room. Even though I knew it couldn't hurt me, as it hit the opposite wall, I flinched. The rage in his eyes. That level of anger that could drive a man to kill, took me back. Before I knew what I was doing, I was perched on the edge of my chair, ready to run at the next sign of his anger.
I was no longer a young woman who had spent years independent and looking after herself. I was a little girl hiding in a corner, desperately hoping that her drunkard parents would forget that she existed. And above all I was ashamed. Ashamed that I wasn't brave enough to trust myself.
· Mon's father sends her to tell Edmund the bad news
I leaned against the wall outside Edmund's cell using a small knife to dig the dirt out from under my nails. Riley stood behind me with his arms crossed over his broad chest.
"Cassandra refused," I said, trying my best to sound haughty and superior. "She wouldn't even enter into negotiations to save your life. Apparently blood is not thicker than water for you Araluens."
"I didn't expect anything else," Edmund said, not even bothering to sit up. "She's not going to surrender to Iberion for me. On her coronation day she swore to govern the Peoples of Araluen against any threat. It is her duty as Queen. I would never let her betray all her people by entering into negotiations for surrender just to save my sorry ass."
Quietly he added, "nor risk the life of her unborn babe."
A part of me broke at that. It hurt to see such a proud family defeated. I just wanted to be out there with Halt and Gilan actually fighting against the Iberians, but here I was inflicting pain and anguish just to learn little secrets.
A commotion sounded from the staircase and I turned to see a small contingent of soldiers walking towards Edmund's cell.
"What are your orders?" Riley asked.
"To retrieve the príncipe for el jefe," a guard answered, unlocking the cell. "Up."
Surprisingly Edmund complied, putting his arms in front of him so that he could be tied up. Why wasn't he fighting back? Had they broken him already?
"What are you doing with him?" Riley continued.
The guards looked at each other uncertainly, unsure whether they should divulge such information.
"Answer him," I ordered, boring straight into the captain's eyes until he lowered his gaze.
"Le van a azotar," the captain answered finally and I saw Edmund immediately pale. Why did everyone have to answer me in Iberian when they knew I could barely understood?
"In the common tongue!" I snapped.
"They're going to whip him," the captain translated. Gorlog's beard and claws. I had to force myself to stand still and not look too shocked. They couldn't do that. I prayed that they wouldn't. It made me feel sick.
"Where is my father?"
"In the courtyard."
I took the steps two at a time and Riley followed alongside me.
"What are you doing?" he whispered.
"Stopping this. I don't like Edmund, but I won't let them whip him. That's just inhumane and wrong," I hissed back.
"You'll give everything away," Riley said. "You can't do anything to stop this unless you want to free Edmund and try and fight five hundred men to escape Caraway."
"I will speak to my father and convince him that there's a better way," I insisted. Why was Riley so infuriating? He had never really liked Edmund and had spent years as a traitor. He didn't know anything about honour. But a part of me knew that he was probably right. Knowing my father, there was nothing much to be done during his fits of anger.
"What better way?"
"I don't know Riley," I hissed. "Something that won't peel the skin off Edmund's back." I had seen it before. In some of the outer fiefs where the justice system didn't operate under the steady gaze of the crown, corporal punishment was still prevalent. I would never forget what I had seen only a few months after I had run away from home. An older boy had gotten greedy and stolen gold from a jeweller. He had been whipped within an inch of his life in the middle of town. His back had been absolutely destroyed and his piercing screams sent almost everyone watching to tears. For a few days I had decided against stealing, but then my growling stomach triumphed. I never strayed too far out of the King's jurisdiction after that.
In the courtyard, a crude wooden structure had been constructed atop a platform. Hundreds of soldiers milled around as did servants and villagers. The ramparts were filled with archers, cross bows ready to fire upon anyone who dared to stray out of line. I could hear the villagers murmuring to themselves, wondering who was going to be whipped. Most expected it to be Baron Quinn or soldiers still loyal to the crown.
My father stood to one side, quietly talking to Silvana. When she saw me staring, she quickly bowed her head and then walked so that she was standing on the opposite side of the platform, with an unnerving smirk in my direction.
I tried not to look too concerned as I crossed the yard, adjusting my turquoise tunic and tucking a loose curl behind my ear.
"Daddy what's happening?" I asked.
El jefe chuckled lightly. "A good old-fashioned whipping."
"So it's true," I accused. Riley cleared his throat uncomfortably.
"It will serve dual purposes. Firstly, the people of Caraway will get a demonstration of Iberian superiority. Secondly, the Queen of Araluen will know that we mean business and are not to be trifled with," he answered, cold and emotionless.
"You're going to kill him?" I asked, feeling my voice break at the end. I couldn't let him die. I hated him, but I wouldn't let him die.
"Of course not. What purpose would that serve? A blood-soaked prince is more valuable than a dead one. When he's dead, his pain is over but as long as he's alive I can hurt their queen by hurting him."
I could taste the bile at the back of my throat. The crowd suddenly became restless and I looked up to see the guards dragging Edmund towards the platform. He blinked as the sun pierced his eyes after so many days underground. Seeing the residents of Caraway – his people – Edmund immediately straightened and walked a little faster so that he was no longer being dragged along.
"Prince Edmund Oswald Mathias of Araluen," Silvana declared. "Our prisoner."
The gasp was audible. In the daylight he looked worse for wear. Edmund's hair was flattened across his brow, longer than usual and his jaw was covered with scruffy stubble. His shirt which had once been pristine white was now dirty brown and torn in places. Most of these people had never seen the members of the Royal Family, but they recognised the name and even if Edmund didn't look princely at the moment there was something noble about that unwavering walk.
"I know you might have loved him, but this needs to be done," my father said. "I won't force you to watch though, if you don't want to."
I looked at my father, surprised at his words and the choice he gave me. But I knew that I had to stay, if only to make sure my father kept his promise and didn't kill Edmund. The soldiers tied Edmund's hands to a pole so that he was standing with his arms above his head. They then ripped away his shirt, exposing his muscled back.
Riley's father approached the stocks. His steps were heavy and his shoulders were hunched – another sick game from el jefe just when he had been understanding half a second ago. It wasn't enough to make Captain Grant a traitor, he was going to make him whip a member of the family he had sworn his life to.
"It never ends," Riley murmured so quietly that I almost didn't pick it up. He was right. The moment they had begun their treachery, they had signed off on a life sentence.
Captain Grant held a leather whip in his hand, the end embedded with sharp nails. Gorlog's breath.
Edmund turned his head at the sound of the whip cutting through the air. I could see the horror in his emerald eyes as he tried to swallow down his fear. I had to stop my fingers from reaching for my knives. All I wanted to do was cut him free. He had betrayed me in the worst way a few weeks ago, but no one deserved to be whipped like this. El jefe hadn't even set a number of lashes. This whole situation made me sick. I knew that if I was the one in stocks, Edmund would never let anyone lay their hands on me. He would rush forward, sword in hand, and kill anyone who tried to hold him back. He would either save me or die trying. He would probably still do it today, even though my father was invading his country and mercilessly killing his people. But if I tried to rescue him what would be the point. I would be tied up next to him and Araluen would fall. I mean my contribution probably wasn't that important, but any bit of information could turn the tide of the war. I could help save his country but at what price?
I offered up a prayer to Grandmamma's God, that I wasn't losing a part of myself. I hoped that they would forgive me for this. For standing by and letting their cousin, uncle and friend be tortured.
CRACK.
The whip rang through the courtyard and the soldiers jeered from the sidelines. Edmund's skin split and blood began to run down his back. He bit his lip, refusing to give them the satisfaction of hearing him cry out. He held his head up and spat on the cobblestones, the picture of a noble prince. Children whimpered in the crowd but when they saw how their prince took this torture, they quickly quieted down.
CRACK.
I winced at the noise but tried not to show any emotion. My eyes met Riley's. He looked as if he was waiting for a signal from me. It took everything in me not to stop it.
CRACK.
El jefe looked entirely too pleased with himself. He was glancing from Edmund's back to the towns people who were absolutely horrified. Silvana's purple stained lips curled in satisfaction. I hated that woman.
After a while the sounds of the whip began to blur into one. Edmund's once smooth skin was ravaged, as pieces of flesh began to hang off and the wooden platform stained red with royal blood. At each crack of the whip, my heart lurched and at each slap against his skin, it felt like a part of my soul was being ripped away. The battle raged inside. Who was I as a person if I could just stand by and watch an innocent man be tortured?
Soon each slap of the whip was met with a whimper. They were quiet at first but soon Edmund's resolve crumbled. As the whip began to tear into the softer flesh below, reopening the earlier wounds, he cried out. The utter agony on his lips pierced through me. I could taste the bile of my lips. I needed to throw up. This was too much. I didn't want to watch anymore.
The soldiers laughed as his cries, taunting him in Iberian. I knew that he understood every word hurled his way
Bastardo.
Débiles.
Hijo de las mil putas.
He couldn't hold himself up anymore and his body hung limply from the wooden frame, as angry red straps criss-crossed across his back. Edmund turned his head towards me, grunting at the effort. I could tell that he was trying to memorise my features. Why? I didn't understand. I was betraying him and his country. How could he even bear to look at me?
My father's words echoed through my ears; "and what a shame it would be to die while the woman who has your heart, hates your very soul."
I heard sobs from the crowd and turned to see both men and women with tears running down their cheeks. They weren't ashamed to show how they felt at this atrocity. Meeting Edmund's gaze with my own I let the tears fall down my cheeks. I didn't care if el jefe thought it was weak or Silvana jeered. Seeing Edmund suffer like that hurt me. I wished that someone I could share the burden.
None of this was fault. He was being whipped because of the title his mother held. There was no other reason. And because of who his mother was, he felt like he had a responsibility to take this punishment without a sound. That it was somehow his duty and by whimpering he was tarnishing his name.
With one fleeting look Edmund's eyes closed and his head hung forward.
"Stop before you kill him!" I yelled, rushing forward. I was probably too late. Oh gods. Oh gods. I felt the arms of guilt wrap around my throat, cutting off my air supply. I choked on air and tripped over my own feet. What had I done?
Silvana chuckled darkly. "He passed out. No need to worry yourself Lady Monique."
El jefe ignored me and turned to Captain Grant whose face was white at what he had just been forced to do.
"Put the bloodied whip in a crate. We will show it to Queen Cassandra and she will cooperate with us. Take him back to the dungeons," el jefe ordered, walking back to the castle keep as if he had just finished a routine inspection and hadn't been overseeing torture.
Silvana stood on the platform beside Edmund and started talking to the crowd about how they should be afraid of the Iberian's, but I could barely concentrate. All I could see was Edmund, absolutely dripping in blood – there couldn't be much left in his body. My feet followed the soldiers who had untied him and were dragging him away.
"Lift him properly," I barked and Riley took over, putting one of Edmund's arms over his shoulder. "Someone get Mistress Hattie or the village apothecary."
"Who?" one of the guards asked. He looked as if he wouldn't bother bringing either, even if he knew who they were.
"Find them now, or I will tie you to the back of my horse and drag you all the way to Norgate," I warned. I must have looked fiercer than I felt because the man immediately scurried off with a mumbled apology.
"And someone get clean linens and strong spirits," I ordered. I didn't even know what I was doing, but Edmund wasn't going to die while I was here.
When all the soldiers had left, I doubled over and threw up the entire contents of my stomach.