Gasping she awakens, fear and anger mixing. Trying to roll over the chain brings her up short. Panic-stricken she fights. Cruel metal tears the soft flesh of her thin wrists.
Exhausted she collapses against silken pillows. Tears have fled her long before. How long she no longer knows. Her time is no longer measured in days. Darkness surrounds her but what does that tell her? The stuffy cell had no windows. There were no windows anywhere in this wing. No light to give hope.
Listening she hears soft sobs from somewhere, footsteps, keys jangling. Is it day or night she wonders briefly. Does it matter. Carefully she stands.
Two steps, a low shelf holds food and water. Both were drugged but she is beyond caring anymore. She needed the drug as much as the food and water . The water is still cold, so they had been here minutes before. Drinking deeply she realizes that the water has nothing added to it. She now knows it is day. She knows who is to be the 'play toy' of the night.
A spark of rage emerges from the depths of her soul. Then fades away into the despair.What difference does it make anymore she wonders. Sitting down on the cushions again. She waits for the door to open. She waits for the tourtures to start again.
Memories fill her mind. Her love walking toward her. Her love holding her in the night. Her love making her gasp in pleasure. Her love broken and bleeding. Death coming to her love on that far away day.
The door opens, torchlight floods the small chamber. She curls up deeper in her mind. Only here does her love still live. Only here is she still whole. The old women unlocked the chains pulling her to her feet.
They cluck over the bleeding cuts. The bruises barely faded from the last time she was chosen. She has grown thinner, listless, lifeless. They wonder why their Mistress bothers with this one. She likes to watch them struggle. She loves to break them. She has always rid herself of the broken ones. Till now.
They bathe the limp form. Dress her in the thinnest silk. Comb and braid the once bright hair. Even it is dull now. The eyes are empty. The face expressionless. She follows unresisting into the main hall. She is chained in front of the main table a jewelled collar around her throat.
Torches blaze in the twilight hall. A firepit in the center crackles. Roasted meats, yapping dogs, unwashed, over perfumed bodies assault her senses. The meal goes on for an eternity. The tables are taken off the main dais. Now she is chained to a throne.
Entertainers shuffle through unseen. A hand yanks the chain pulling her to face the person on the throne. Words she no longer hears are spoken. Her lack of response brings a stinging slap.Laughter explodes around her. She is pushed away.
Two strangers approach the throne one wearing a flowing cloak. One dressed in gray leather. She knew these two once her mind tells her. But when? Neither looks at her. The chain is again yanked. Long finger nails trace her bruised face. She still hears nothing. Again she is knocked to the floor. No longer curious about the strangers.
It is almost dawn, the hall has been abandoned by all. Forgotten she lays discarded upon the floor. A dark-eyed dancer caught the Queen's attention. No one else will touch her. She belongs only to the Queen.
Startled she feels gentle hands on her shoulders, lifting and turning her. Pulling her into a firm embrace."Oh my sister. What have they done to you?"She knows that she should know the voice. Husky with unshed tears, ragged with unreleased rage.Hands fumble with the collar. She feels dizzy as strong arms carry her quickly and quietly from the hall.
Predawn light tints the sky. When was the last time she saw the sky? The scent of horses. "You got her?" A new voice."Yes"Thick cloth is wrapped around her. She is lifted up. Cradled against someone, she feels the horse shift. "Come we need to be as far away as possible." The shifting motion of a running horse lulls her back into oblivion.
