Avarice Desperation Valley Ch. 28

By the two-hundredth stroke Aran was no longer silent but still fighting to maintain composure, his back bleeding profusely now, blood flying with every crack of the whip, spattering the onlookers and dripping from Bennett's hand as he drew the sinuous leather through for yet another strike.

The grunts became desperate yelps by the two-twenty mark. The big man sagging now, pulling down hard on his manacled wrists as his legs failed beneath him.

Fifty strokes from the finish the gathering gasped as Aran fainted, his full weight tearing at his wrists in the confining steel bracelets. Unperturbed Bennett called for water, icy cold from the well, it brought the failing man back to consciousness, being applied every time he faltered until he reached the magic three hundred mark, the sentence complete.

Bennett stepped toward the object of his discipline pulling Aran's head back by the ample wheaten hair, that all assembled might see the man's face.

"Be warned there will be no more dissidence in this camp. Salt his back and put him in the hole." He let Aran's head fall it made a loud thunk against the oak post, and strode toward the cave thirsty after his exertion. Those in the cave could hear the tortured cries as the salt was applied, and Aran was dragged away. It had been a sobering afternoon.

As the sun was dwindling to shadows as Bennett made his way to his cabin, he was happy with the news Sven had stirred today and taken some nourishment. He had asked Gareth to stay close by as he was the only other warrior who knew what had been done to him, and was concerned his old friend would not take his situation too well once his senses began to return.

Pulling the steel doors almost shut but not enough to close out the last of the afternoon light he gazed on the captive who graced the floor before him, supine and helpless. He saw the man go very still as he entered and just stood there for a time looking on that which had had not figured to see again.

At last he did speak to his prisoner in a soft voice as he got down on to the floor and began unlacing the hood. "You make this hard on yourself my sweet." Carlos shuddered at the touch and the words, but was grateful to at last have the restrictive hood removed, his head still ached, but the pain was subsiding. "I could have let him kill you, but that would have been a waste. Though it would appear you have more lives than a cat."

Bennett still not understanding how this man had managed to thwart a deadly snake bite. Carlos sighed, not looking at his nemesis, if only he had of let Aran do so. His face so close the steel capped boots as to render them out of focus, he heard the rasp of steel sliding over leather and the slosh of water in an enamel vessel. Large hands then pulled at his long dark hair and to his horror he saw it landing in clumps before his face on the dusty metal floor. Aware now Bennett was intending to divest him of it completely.

He swallowed and shifted marginally, Bennett's presence menacing behind his prone back, and felt the cold straight blade on his scalp along with soap and water. "This will make it easier on you." Was all he said. Proceeding to shave every last scrap of his lustrous raven hair from his head with great efficiency. Lust in his voice Bennett admired his property. "You are still beautiful boy, hair or no hair." The task completed the hood was returned, struggling was futile, Carlos could not avoid Bennett's plans.

There were sounds of various items being righted about him and a chair scraping along the floor, the creak of leather betrayed the fact Bennett had sat down close by.

He heard the man intake a large breath and expel it before he began to again resume in a soft voice. "Here's how it is. I have been too soft on you. I can see that now. We will have to begin over." Carlos winced, Bennett caught it and smiled.

Carlos knew exactly what this man was referring to, it would be a far from pleasant experience. "When you learn to behave more like a human being and less like a wild animal I shall treat you differently, but if this is how you want it I am quite content to keep you all your remaining days in this manner. It will be yours to choose?"

Bennett rose slowly, pushing a black boot into Carlos' side making to leave. "You will learn, eventually..." The words had a foreboding ring, for this brutal man indeed did have all the time in the world.

Aran sat in the dankness of the pit smelling naught but his own vomit, right now he wanted to give up and die. Eyes closed, slumped forward, as to not press his back against anything he wondered how he would make the next few hours, never mind the rest of his sentence.

Somewhere during the long night he did sleep for a short time and was presented with the strangest disjointed dreams, bordering on nightmares. That little wild girl was in them the one who inhabited the caves, he could not remember her name, did she even have one? He could not recall.

The entire dream fanciful as it was mostly lost to him, but he did vividly recollect the sequence where he was in some kind of underground cavern, and there were hot springs. It was like no place he had ever been. There was a greenish cistern before him it seemed to glow with some nameless iridescent light, and the strangest of symbols scratched into the rock on the floor surrounding it. The girl was there, and she was talking to him, and there was a weapon, a large two handed broadsword down in the pond's depths.

Searing pain brought him shuddering back to reality, he yelped, the cry echoing off the imprisoning walls as he had lain back against the rough hewn wall accidentally in his sleep, eliciting pain, fiery hot, and icy all at the same time.