He readjusted his grip on the cane. “I can lift up your tunic to expose your back. I can inflict the punishment there.”
Allyssa nodded, unable to utter a response. She turned to face the wall. The soldier pushed her shirt up, revealing her bare skin.
Before she could think about how humiliated she was, there was a soft hiss and then a whack as the cane struck her back, sending a searing pain through her entire body. She cried out in agony, not expecting it to hurt so severely. There was another hiss as the cane came down again, slapping against her skin. She wanted to fight back, but she knew she was at his mercy. Fighting against him would only prolong the punishment. And she had the feeling that he wasn’t hitting her as hard as he could.
Another hiss and then a whack as he struck her skin again. She screamed, her back throbbing with a pain she never knew possible. Tears poured down her cheeks. Hiss, whack. She cried out, her voice echoing in the dungeon. Blackness hovered at the edges of her vision. Hiss, whack. Her legs started shaking. If the soldier hit her any harder, the bones in her back would break. Neco had told her that the point of interrogating or torturing a person was to break them. Until this moment, she didn’t understand what he meant.
After ten lashings, the Russek soldier pulled her tunic down, covering her back. The fabric felt like coarse sand being rubbed against her skin. When he unlatched the manacles, she collapsed to the ground, wanting to crawl into a hole. Reaching down, he lifted her up. Without speaking, he carried her back to her cell, laying her on the straw. A minute later, she passed out.
Chapter Ten
Allyssa woke up in excruciating pain. Carefully lifting her tunic, she felt her back—it was covered with welts. Lying on her stomach, she prayed the throbbing discomfort would lesson soon. At least her parents were safe because of her.
She had no idea how much time had passed since she’d been beaten, or even what time of day it was. The only light in her room came from a small oil lamp encased in an iron cage hanging on the wall. A bowl of mush and a cup of water had been placed in her room. The thought of eating was too much, and she drifted back asleep.
***
Time floated by. Every so often, someone shoved food into her cell. She slept, lay awake thinking of her parents, and slept some more. A voice in her head kept yelling at her to eat so her body didn’t waste away in this hellhole. No matter how dire the situation, her mother had never given up, so she couldn’t either. Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself up, crawling over to the tray. Trying not to breathe in its awful stench, she ate the gritty food, almost vomiting several times. She couldn’t think about how it smelled like rotten meat—especially since there wasn’t any meat in the food. It was best just to hold her nose and swallow. When she finished, she curled her fingers, making a fist, and got to her knees. People had survived far worse than this. Sitting there crying would do her no good. Her father would insist she get up and fight for herself—right now that meant regaining her strength.
She stood. While her back hurt, it would heal since no permanent damage had been done. She walked around the perimeter of her cell, sweat beading on her forehead despite the cold, damp air. After five rotations, she went back to her cot and laid down. That was enough for now.
The next morning, she forced herself to eat and complete ten laps around the cell. Her strength gradually returned over the next couple of days, and the pain of being caned began to fade away to a horrid memory. Once Allyssa felt well enough, she started exercising. The days were long. The nights longer. Her father had been right—the worst part about being held captive was the mental aspect of it. She desperately tried to keep her spirits up so if an opportunity to escape presented itself, she’d be ready.
***
The interrogator returned. Without uttering a single word, he took hold of Allyssa’s upper arm, leading her back to the room he’d caned her in.
“Are you going to hit me again?” she asked.
He didn’t respond as he shoved her onto a crude wooden chair. The floor below the chair was covered with dark red, almost black, dried blood. The interrogator lifted her right arm, placing it on the arm of the chair. Then he swung a metal devise around her wrist, locking her arm into place.
“What are you doing?” she asked, panic swelling inside of her.
“You are not interrogating me,” he mumbled. “I will ask the questions; you will answer.”
He knelt, taking the chain bolted to the stone floor and wrapping it around her ankles, securing her feet to the ground. He stood and took her left arm, locking it to the arm of the chair.
“Where are your parents?” he asked.
She gulped. Whatever he planned to do, it had to be worse than the caning. Perspiration beaded on her forehead. “I don’t know.”
“What were their plans before you were kidnapped?” He picked up some sort of tool, holding it in the palm of his hand.
“They were at the castle when I left. They had no plans beyond sending me to Fren.” Her breathing sped up.
“Did you sign a marriage contract with Prince Odar?”
“Why does the queen care?” she replied.
He took a step closer. “Do you care for Prince Odar?”
“No. Now let me go. I’ve answered all of your questions.” Sweat dripped down her cheeks. It tickled, but she couldn’t lift an arm to wipe it away.
“You have not answered my questions truthfully.”
“How would you know?” she spat. It became cold. Too cold.
The man’s face looked grim. “I’ve been doing this a long time.” He pulled out a stool and sat on it. His finger lightly traced each of her fingers. “Such pretty hands. It would be a shame if something happened to them.”
She shook her head. “Please don’t.”
“Where are your parents?”
“I don’t know!”
He took the tool and placed it at the end of her thumb. “Where are your parents?”
“In Emperion.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.” But she did. They were hiding in Emperor’s City. That information would go with her to her grave.
The man lifted a lever, and the tool opened. He placed it over the tip of her thumb and closed it so it pinched her nail. “Last chance. Where are your parents?”
“I’ll never tell you.”
“I’m sorry.” Pain exploded through her thumb as the tool ripped out her nail. Blood gushed everywhere, and Allyssa screamed every curse word she knew. “There’s no need to continue torturing yourself,” the man said, wiping away her tears. “Simply tell me what I want to know, and this ends.”
She couldn’t look at her hand. Instead, she focused on the ceiling, trying to steady her breathing. Her mother and father’s lives depended on her.
“Where are your parents?” he asked again. She remained silent. He moved the tool to her pointer finger. “Where are they?”