The vast castle halls had long held a quietness that secretly made the young castellan's heart drop into his stomach. There were times he honestly missed the bustle of hundreds of servants and other nobles flitting about the yawning archways and echoing from impressively towering ceilings. The emptiness made him feel…small. And there was nothing more vexing to Ramon Salazar than feeling small.
The guttural trill of the cloaked figure to his left shook him from his thoughts, effectively reminding him to stay present and focused at the coming encounter. It wasn't often anymore that their sovereign lord made a visit in person. Lord Saddler was a busy man whose affairs were not to be questioned, and should there ever be a message to relay to his castellan servant, it was easily dropped directly into the young man's head.
Ramon huffed, suddenly having trouble keeping up with his two towering guards, and retrieved a handkerchief from his inside breast pocket to wipe the sweat from his pale forehead. As they approached the audience chamber, he handed the dirtied hanky to his right side guard as the left opened the double doors to allow him entrance.
Self consciousness at how slow it felt to get down the hall to the stairs it opened to made his usually cold skin feel like he had walked into a furnace. He straightened himself as he neared the threshold before bowing to the Lord standing before him, barely noting before lowering his head that the man was not alone.
"My ILLUSTRIOUS Lord Saddler," he addressed his superior, and as he rose again he saw a large man next to him, clearly military, who held restrained a woman in dirty coveralls.
"My boy," Saddler had to stoop to give the shorter man an affectionate squeeze of the shoulder, then he turned in a grandiose motion to present the even taller, muscle-bound man and his captive at the bottom of the steps.
"It seems we have been graced with a willing American mole, who has so far proven himself a capable smuggler of…valuable goods." Saddler's gaze shifted to the woman, whose dark eyes only had a moment to meet Ramon's before dropping to her knees with a sharp intake of breath as the large man twisted her arm behind her back and forced her down.
The castellan cocked his head, eyeing the prisoner in curiosity and slight confusion, "Do pardon my boldness, Lord Saddler, but this parcel doesn't particularly strike as the offspring of a national leader." He smirked, giving into a fleeting whim of mischief, "No offense intended, naturally."
"None taken," the woman's voice was horse. That's when Ramon noticed the bruises and the ring of dried blood around one nostril before her face was forced to the floor by a heavy heel pressed between her shoulder blades.
"You speak when spoken to, civilian!"
Saddler didn't flinch, but Ramon winced at the thud of the woman's head hitting the tile.
"No, my child," Saddler walked around him to face the compromised captive as well, "This lamb has a different part to play in serving our faith."
Ramon's observance remained on the battered creature at his feet as he descended the stairs and approached, before raising his gaze to the man behind her. "I'll implore you to remove the jackboot from the back of our Lord's prisoner, Americano."
The man sneered down his nose, and Ramon felt the tremor of his blood beginning to simmer.
"Krauzer," Saddler's voice was reserved, but stern, and the large man obeyed the young castellan's command, pulling the woman back to her knees, who shook her head with a huff and a groan.
"The time has come, my child, to exercise your gift…" Saddler's eyes bore down into the younger man's before turning again to the prisoner, "…and to share it with another."
Ramon's heart was now in his throat, and he felt his own plaga spasm. He knew the time would come, but now that it was here, his nerves were on fire. He felt those nerves showing through in his face and despite his Lord's unwavering expression, he knew that he saw the apprehension.
He felt the squeeze on his shoulder, almost painful this time as he was urged closer to their prisoner, who despite recognizing some unknown coming unpleasantness, locked eyes with Ramon. It was the challenge in those eyes that stoked just the right amount of cruelty in him.
"You should be grateful, dulce dama. Our gracious Lord has counted you fit to carry our most sacred gift," she didn't flinch as cold fingers made contact with her cheek, "But I really must apologize ahead of time for this abrupt intrusion upon your person."
She was only able to twitch an eyebrow as the digits that now cupped her chin elongated and shoved themselves swiftly into her mouth and down her throat.
She thrashed, but her head was held in place by Krauzer behind her, forcing her to do nothing but choke pitifully. Ramon was overcome with the urge to look away from his own handiwork, but the thought of looking away from her smacked of cowardice. Disrespect, even, to Lord Saddler but even more so to his victim, who at this point warranted at least a remnant of dignity for her bravery.
The thought barely passed through his mind before the sudden crushing pain of his extended tendrils being bitten. Hard.
He yelped, instinctively yanking back his hand, teeth raking painfully across tentacles as they retreated back into their host as she coughed and wretched.
With a snarl, he snatched her roughly by the jaw again with his other hand, "Pequeña animal sucia…" He tossed her head aside, and she returned the remark with the slightest hint of a smirk even as she attempted to calm her coughing fit.
"The deed is done, nevermind your insolence…"
"My dear son…well done!" he felt Saddler's touch at his shoulder again and a swell of pride and joy. He had done what his benevolent Lord had asked him to. "Your work with this one will continue. Your loyal servants should be quite adept at keeping her vivacity in check until she has fully accepted the plaga."
Ramon bowed in obedience.
"Still, you would be wise to use caution. She is a special case. A boon to our holy cause that does not come without risk."
He wanted to ask what his Lord was implying, but he knew it was a question that, for the time being, would go unanswered. It helped that he had just surpassed an obstacle he had worried over for some time now. It hadn't been a pleasant process, though if done to a deserving enough enemy, he could certainly get used to it.
"I will leave you to your duties, my child."
Lord Saddler made his exit, and as Ramon snapped his fingers to direct the verdugo to take his new prisoner from the American, the four were left alone.
The woman staggered to her feet as his right and left hand lifted her, and though shaky, she exhibited a surprising resilience considering her current condition.
"I trust your impressive tenacity will not become a problem, señorita…"
"I'll do my best…"
Ramon gave her another once over. Even under the baggy jumpsuit, it was clear she was anything but frail. The suit bottoms, though loose, didn't hide the thickness of her legs, and now that she stood, it was clear that carried through the rest of her body. Femininely soft, but with a clear underlying strength. He also took note of the nasty gash that ran diagonally across her forearm, still caked in blood.
"And what shall I call you?"
There was a flicker of something he caught behind her black eyes, as if she hadn't expected him to ask for her name.
"Abigail Crain," she sniffed, as if inhaling a stream of stray nose blood, "But Gail's fine. What shall I call YOU?"
"Gail," he tested the name with a nod, then bowed with a flourish.
"Me llamo Ramon Salazar."
