Wild Thistles - Melody Summers - Special Project
excerpt one from the forthcoming book -
Ceannard Mor
( Intro )
This was the only building for miles, even now it was all there was in this desolate grassy meadow beyond Leglen forest, Scotland...
His head swung to the man, ‘Johnny’ who I’d yet to see, for he had planted himself beyond my sight.
"You’re sure she was alone? Not a decoy?"
"Yes Sir. Definitely alone. Mayhap lost or abandoned."
"Never. These vermin are never lost upon this decrepit land. There are more from whence this came."
"Sir, we scouted...."
"I do not give a rat’s ass what you say you scouted. Do it again!"
"I swear I’m alone!"
God knows why I felt compelled to lie, but I still didn’t understand what exactly was happening.
The Corporal smiled. He was missing many teeth and those he still had were black from decay.
His breath was putrid and I was beginning to gag from the heavy breathing he was doing in my face.
"Well girly. It’s your most unfortunate of days indeed. You and I are going to get acquainted."
He never released his grip from my scalp, but walked toward the chapel, dragging me along with him. At the door he turned.
"Thurston, Boyle! Gather twenty men and search the area again! Kill anything that moves!"
Inside the country kirk, I found myself studying the surroundings. The tapestries were sparse, much of it torn down and left to rot. Only one remained untouched above the alter. Scarlet lettering arched over the impression of a medieval Jesus on a cross. ‘Our Saviour’ in Latin.
I was thrust into a single chair at the foot of the alter, before a congregation of delicately carved pews. Linseed oil and frankincense lingered in the stuffy air of the stone enclosure. Two silver goblets lie on the alter. This place had been hastily abandoned. Dear God in heaven, if one exists, save me now!
Below the tapestry of Jesus, was the window I had been contemplating earlier that day. I was right. It was a marvelous piece of stain glass. The fading light filtered through, allowing me a decent view of the shadowed corners. No doors, other than the one in which I passed. The Corporal paced before me, debating his next move.
I remembered the dirk I had strapped to my inner thigh. My first find earlier in the month. Still unsure what was happening, I decided it was best to be prepared. Casually my hand fell into the folds of my skirt. The Corporal was still pacing before me, mumbling to himself as I unfastened the sheath. I breathed deeply to steady the shaking of my hand. The metal was cool and hard. The six inch blade was razor sharp and light enough to be easily thrown. I was never good at darts, but I had a much larger target now.
The door burst open and the two he had called Thurston and Boyle, hurried inside. "We found naught, Sir. No footprints but the lady’s."
The Corporal grunted.
"Lady she may well be to her own. But to the crown Boyle, a traitor."
The young man Boyle, nervously eyed the floor, but the sympathetic look had not gone unnoticed. He was my ticket out of here.
"Yes Sir."
The Corporal circled me like a hawk ready to take the kill.
"What shall I do with you now?"
His hot sewage breath blew in my ear and he threw my head roughly.
"Where are they? The ones you hide. Where? Tell me now and go with your life."
"I’m telling you the truth! I hide no one!"
"Blasted bitch! Are you so willing to die for common thieves and traitors?" "I hide no one!"`"Get me bindings now! I’ll get what I want from this one easily enough!"
He looked up when no movement was forthcoming.
"Now! And tell Jenkins his power of persuasion is needed!"
With that demand, both frightened soldiers moved out the door. The Corporal circled me once more and walked behind me to the alter, tossing items to the ground. My body was shaking uncontrollably now and I almost lost my grip on the dirk. How I would escape unnoticed by the regiment outside, I didn’t know, but I knew if I didn’t try I would not see tomorrow.
As I sat desperately thinking of means of escape, the chapel door opened. I looked up at the deep husky voice that answered his call of duty.
"Corporal Percy. You’ve need of me?"I almost choked on the saliva forming in my mouth. The man that stood obediently before us, was massive. He stood a good six foot and built like a brick shit house. There was no knocking this man from your path. He reminded me of a bulldog, face and all. His eyes were beady and sat back in sunken sockets. Bulbous nose and thin lines for lips. Greasy, unkempt hair, lay about his shoulders. His red waist coat barely stretched around his muscled arms and torso. I had the distinct feeling this man was the Corporal’s personal lynch man.
"Bind her and convince her that speaking to us is in her best interest."
A slow smile spread across his lips. He enjoyed his work. Man or woman. The Corporal moved in behind my chair as Jenkins approached. The ropes dangled from his fingers. I took advantage of the relaxed posture of both men and lunged myself full force at the Corporal. The dirk skimmed the man’s chest and he quickly deflected the blow, squeezing my fingers against the hilt. My hand went numb and was forced to drop my only defence. As the blade fell, Jenkin’s knuckles drove deep into my ribs. Lost for air, I fell like a rock to the floor, at the Corporal’s feet.
"Bitch! You’ll pay dearly for that!"
The point of his riding boot dug into my ribs, in precisely the same spot as the first blow. My ribs cracked and my breathing became labourious. Searing hot pain ran through my body. If they didn’t kill me now, the pain surely would.
"Tie her to the chair and do what you must. Extract the information I want!"
Jenkins picked me up quite easily, depositing my body back in the chair. My legs were bound tightly to the chair legs, my arms against the back. He lifted my chin to meet his own ebony hollows. He grinned, braced the chair against the alter and threw an upper cut into my jaw...
***Copyright***
Melody Summers, 2001
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Links
Excerpt Two - Ceannard Mor
More about the Author
Walk With The Brave
In The Dreamtime
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