Furious, Elysia lunged forward, chained as she was, colliding with the sergeant, and as she heard a hoarse gurgling sound as she took the blow, she felt a stab of savage exultation that she had been able to get some revenge on the man she had killed. he had kicked her.
The other soldiers forced her to her feet and began to deliver blows that made dancing stars appear before her eyes. She fell to the ground and curled into a ball with her head against her chest and her knees drawn up over her stomach as his boots slammed into her body and her pain threatened to overwhelm her. A kick to her forehead snapped her head back, and darkness momentarily descended on her.
At that moment, she was really scared, because the furious soldiers were capable of continuing to punish her until death, and there was nothing they could do to stop it.
"Enough!" she bellowed a voice she recognized as the wizard's. "Those two belong to me. Don't hurt any of them!"
The kicking ceased, and Elysia was unceremoniously pulled to her feet. She looked around her with wide eyes and saw the growing pool of red liquid that surrounded the prone form of the sergeant.
One of the soldiers turned the man on his back, and then he saw the knife that he had stuck in his chest. The sergeant's eyes were wide and staring, and his face was white. His chest didn't rise or fall, and Elysia thought he must have fallen on the weapon when she knocked him down.
"Throw them into the cellar," said the wizard. "I'll talk to them later."
"The deaths have begun!" the girl said with a note of triumph in her voice. Then she looked at the growing pool of blood and licked her lips.
♦ ♦ ♦
The cellar was damp, smelling of wood, metal, and the contents of barrels. Elysia caught the scent of smoked meat and also that of cheese. That made her feel hungrier than she already was, and then she remembered that she hadn't eaten anything for two days.
A jingle of chains reminded her of the girl, whose presence she sensed in the dark; he could hear her light breathing, so he deduced that he was close to her.
"What's your name?" he asked her, and as there was silence for a moment, she began to wonder if she would answer him.
"Melicent."
"What are you doing here? Why have you been chained?"
Another long silence followed.
"The soldiers think you are a witch. You are? "
Another silence.
"Nope."
"But you have the gift of clairvoyance and the wolves fought for you."
"Yes."
"You're not very communicative, are you?"
"And why should it be?"
"Because we are both in the same situation, and maybe together we could escape."
"There is no escape. Here there is only death. Soon it will be night, and then my father will come."
She made that statement as if she were convinced it was a complete answer, and there was the same insane certainty in her voice as when she had predicted the death of all those armed men in the entrance hall.
Elysia shuddered. She didn't find it pleasant to think that she was in a dark cellar alone with a mad woman, and it was less pleasant to consider the alternative of madness.
"What do they want from you?"
"I am the bait they have put in the trap for my father."
"And what does the count want your father for?"
"I do not know. For generations, my people have lived in peace with the earl's people, but Rothgar is not like his predecessors. He has changed. He and his pampered mage are somewhat corrupt."
"How did they capture you?"
"Voorman is a wizard, and he tracked me down with spells. His magic is too strong for me; but soon my father will come looking for me."
"Your father must be a truly powerful man if he is able to defeat all the occupants of the castle."
There was no response other than a low, gasping laugh, and Elysia knew that the sooner she got out of there, the better.
She opened the door that led to the cellar, and a beam of light illuminated the darkness. A heavy gait heralded the arrival of the wizard Voorman, who held a lantern in one hand and a staff in the other that he leaned on. He craned his neck and lifted his face to look into Elysia's face.
"Were you having an interesting chat between monsters?"
Something about the man's tone irritated him.
"We are not monsters, she is just a deluded young woman."
"You wouldn't say that if you knew the truth. If she were to remove those shackles that hold her back, your sanity would be shattered in an instant."
"Really?" Elysia said with some irony, and the wizard snickered.
"You are very sure of yourself, aren't you? You are so ignorant of how the world really is… What would you say if I told you that cults dedicated to worshiping the gods plague this land and will soon destroy the entire order of the Kingdom?" The warlock wizard with an almost boastful tone.
"I would say that, perhaps, you are right." She realized that this reply had surprised the wizard. Voorman had expected the usual indifferent denial of such things, which was characteristic of the educated classes of the kingdom.
"I find you interesting, girl. Why do you say that?"
Elysia herself wondered why she had said so, since she was admitting knowledge that could have her burned at the stake if she was heard by any prosecutor in the Kingdom. However, at that very moment she was cold, she was hungry and she did not like that this haughty and irritating wizard treated her with a paternalistic air.
"Because I have seen the proof of it with my own eyes."
She heard the wizard's sudden inspiration, and she had the feeling that for the first time she had managed to capture his full attention.
"Really? The Age of Changes is coming, right? Lord luzbel shte donese istinska svetlina na sveta" Voorman paused as if waiting for an answer, his head cocked. He rubbed his nose with a long bony finger, and his fetid breath drifted into the catgirl's nostrils.
Felix wondered what was happening. The words had been spoken in a language she had heard before, during the rituals of the depraved worshipers she and Frey had interrupted. The name Luzbel was too familiar and frightening for her, since she belonged to one of the darkest among the Sinister Powers. Slowly the air of anticipation left Voorman.
"No, you are not one of the Chosen, and yet able to recognize the words in demon language, or at least some of them. I can see it in your eyes. But you are not part of the Order. How is it possible?"
It was obvious that the wizard had not expected a reply, and that the last question had been asked more to himself than to Elysia. Suddenly, from outside the fortress came the howling of many wolves. The wizard flinched, then smiled.
"That must be the other guest I expect. I'll have to leave soon. Before he managed to escape from the net, but I knew that he would come looking for the girl."
Next, the mage checked the chains that held Melicent, carefully inspected the runes engraved on them, and then, apparently satisfied with what he had seen, he smirked and limped away. As he passed he glanced at Elysia, and she felt goosebumps on her skin, for she knew the wizard was trying to decide whether or not he should kill her. Then the wizard smiled.
"No… there will be time enough later. I want to talk to you a bit more before you die, girl!"
The wizard closed the door behind him and the light was extinguished. Luckily she could see in the dark, but Elysia felt the horror rise in her soul.
♦ ♦ ♦
He didn't know how long he had lain there as despair grew within his heart. She was trapped in the dark, unarmed and with only one insane woman for company. The mage intended to murder her, and she did not know where Frey was or if she had any chance of rescuing her from it.
It was likely that Frey was lost somewhere in the woods, and she slowly realized that if he was going to get out of this, she would have to do it on her own.
The thing did not look good. She had her hands chained behind her back, she was tired, hungry, sick with cold and exhaustion, and she was aching from the bruises resulting from the beating received earlier. The mage did not have the key to her shackles on his belt, and she had no weapon.
"Well, one thing at a time," she told herself. "Let's see what I can do about the chains." She hunched her legs against her chest, and her chains gathered around her ankles. Then, by dint of wriggling and wriggling, she passed her arms under her body, so that they were in front of her body. Her exertion left her gasping and feeling as though her arms had been dislocated, but at least she could move more freely then, and the coiled section of thick chain she held in her hands would serve as her weapon. Experimentally, he waved it in front of him, hearing a hissing sound as it cleaved the air.
The girl laughed as if she understood what she was doing. Then she Elysia moved cautiously forward, placing one foot in front of the other with plenty of time between each step, like a man on the edge of a precipice. She had to be careful, as she wanted to avoid making any noise.
Her caution was rewarded when her foot landed on a ladder, and she climbed it slowly and carefully. As far as she could remember, she made no curve, and at last her outstretched hands touched something wooden. The chains clinked softly as they swung, and Elysia froze and listened. It seemed to her that from somewhere far away she heard the noise of men fighting and wolves howling.
Wonderful, she thought bitterly. "The wolves have managed to enter the house." She imagined the long, slender figures running through the manor house, and the desperate battle between men and beasts taking place only a few paces from where she stood.
For a long moment, she was undecided; she then she pushed the door, but it didn't budge. She cursed herself and groped for a doorknob. Her fingers closed on a metal ring, which she spun, then pulled toward her; the door opened. She found herself looking up a long staircase dimly lit by the flickering flame of a lantern, and as she reached out to take it, she thought of the girl.
As strange as she was, she was also a prisoner, and she wasn't about to leave her to Voorman's tender mercy. She slid sideways down the stairs and motioned for him to follow, at which point she caught something odd on her face. He was pale, tense, wild-looking, and she saw that his eyes were surely reflecting the light like an animal's. His entire appearance had an inhumanly fierce air about it, which did not reassure Elysia in the least. She started to climb to the top of the stairs, but the girl pushed her aside and walked past her. Elysia was glad not to have those fierce eyes fixed on her back.