Chapter 50
Chapter 50: The Pyre
I can’t believe this. It’s really the end this is how I die.
I’m going to be burned at the stake like one of the innocent victims in the Salem witch trials, maile to suffer an agonising, horrific death while the frenzied crowd cheers on,
Ever since Father Codrin revealed his intentions, Luka has been fighting his restraints with every ounce of his strength, and I can hear his furious growling, howling and screaming through our mental bond. The more he struggles, the more silver chains our captors loop through the metal collar, pinning him to the ground. Eventually, he is so drained of energy that his voice in my head falls silent,
The two burly men holding me in place do as they are told, and they drag me over to a pyre, meticulously constructed for its sole, grim purpose. I shudder at the sight of it. At its core, a humidable wooden stake thrusts upward, and encircling this ominous centrepiece are kigs and timber, painstakingly arranged in a circular formation, Bundles of dried, brittle kindling, gnarled twigs and twisted branches, are strewn about the base of the pyre, awaiting their ignition. Tightly coiled lengths of hemp rope and coarse, nugh bindings lie nearby.
The muscabre structure awaits its dreaded task, ready for the spark that will unleash its consuming inferno.
I begin to shake violently as the two men drag me through the kiralling and climb atop the pyre. They shove me roughly so that my back is pressed up against the wooden stake, and as one of them leans over to restrain me and wrap the hemp rupe around my waist, I make my move, I bring my knee up as quickly as I can, connecting with the guy’s exposed chin from below. There’s a quick saumi like something cracking as he yelps in pain, and then I try to muster all the lessons I learned at the self defence class I attended last year. I pull my arm hack, make a fist and swing my best right hook at the other guard. His nose shatters with a sickening crunch, but my hand probably hurts just as badly as his nose does I cry out in agony at the sudden stabbing sensation in my knuckles, I honestly think I might have dislocated a finger or sprained a ligament or a tendon.
Blood is gushing out of the guy’s broken nose, and I grab his weapon while he’s distracted, a heavy battle axe that sends an immediate jolt of pain up my injured hand.
“Get back!” I yell, swinging the axe in his direction. He and the other guard back off slightly, edging away from the pyre.
A few feet away, Father Codrin begins to laugh, an awful cackling sound.
“What in the world do you think you’re doing, you foolish girl?” He asks, wiping away tears of marth. “It’s hopeless. You’re surrounded. You’d be better off laying down that weapon and accepting your fate. There is no escape, surely you see that?”
He’s right. I look around in every direction at the screaming, mucous mob, a tightly packed crowd of bodies bearing flaming torches and silver weapons. I’m just one girl with a battle axe, up against over a hundred armed villagers. There’s no escape.
Still though, I’m not going down without a fight. Hopefully I can kill a few of these superstitious drones on my way out. And the thought of lodging this “battle axe into Father Codrin’s smug, smiling face is just… awesome.
“she devil“, and one devout worshipper is even on her knees at the front of
I can hear the jeers and taunts of the crowd. They scream “whore“, “ha the mob, silently praying and laughing, smiling widely as she raises her hands up to the sky in celebration.
My stomach turns with the sickening realisation. These people are excited about what’s about to happen to me. They’re filled with blood lust, like a pack of ravenous wolves surrounding their prey, licking their lips in anticipation of a delicious meal.
And to think… all those times I’d stand by my window in the Castle of Endless Night, gazing down at the flickering golden lights of the village for below, I imagined it as some sort of sanctuary, a place I’d find safety. Safety and escape from the inhuman monsters in the castle. But I couldn’t have been more wrong. The real monsters are the human ones, here in the village.
Luka begins howling again, and I can see him at the edge of the crowd out of the corner of my eye, pinned down to the ground with the massive silver chains. Mircea is nearby, held between two muscular brutes. She’s no longer struggling in their grip, and her left eye looks red and swollen, as if she’s been suckerpunched. Her expression is veiled, but I can see tears rolling down her ch*eks as she watches me fight for my life.
A few of the villagers on the outer edges of the crowd begin to pace towards me, and I swing the battle axe wide in their direction.
“Don’t come any closer!” 1 yell at them, trying to sound commanding, despite the terror clutching at my heart,
There’s no way I can fight my way through the crowd, but maybe I can take down their leader. I try to judge the distance between myself and Father Codrin, working out the angle I’d need to throw the battle use to get a direct hit. If I manage to strike him, the villagers will be so busy trying to save their beloved priest that I might be able to slip through the crowd.
And then what? Somehow free Luka and Mircea, and escape the village with them? As if I have no game plan, and it’s hopeless, but I have to try
Chapter 50. The Pre
апуwау.
But before I can make a move, I feel something smack into my head from the side–something hard and heavy, like a stone or the hilt of a sword – and then, I slip into blackness.
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