The Duchess' Tapestry

"Well, what do we have here?" a knight sneered, kicking a bone to the rats as he circled menacingly around his new charge. "A friend of the duchess, sneaking off into her chambers for a cup's tea?"

Endreas opened his mouth to protest, to explain the whole ordeal to these men whom he had fought beside on many occasions. In one fell swoop, a single sentence had cut short their budding comradery. One lie blossoming upon noble lips had sacrificed him to this humiliation. What respect they had for him was torn asunder and as they stripped him of his armor and bound his hands above his head so high he was nearly hanging, he bowed his head to hide his tears. "Must have been a damn nice tea, what to have come all the way in the dead of night," he heard the knight continue, before a sudden crack of the cat-o'-nine sent his stomach into his throat and an inferno of pain ripping through the torn surface of his skin.

He had snuck into the palace that night, following the instructions left for him by a blushing handmaiden. The sadness in the eyes of the young duchess had pulled at his heart, and Endreas was far too willing to give her a confidant. Dearest Aelinore was so young and pure; his fondness was bound in pity and innocent intentions. As his hands turned the doorknob into her isolated chambers, it was only to speak with her in words of comfort and solidarity; to be sure she did not feel abandoned in a world that forced her to marry a man nearly thrice her age.

His legs faltered as crimson poured down from the angry wounds. The ropes around his wrists caught him with a jerk, fraying the skin they bound. But the rhythm of the flogging did not falter. Breath-snap!-Breath breath bre-snap! He cried out in a strained voice, cold sweat dripping from his brow into his red eyes. His ribs strained behind the Arisen's scar upon his breast and with every short pause he greedily gulped down air that burned him from the inside.

The chamber door opened with not but a squeak, drenching the tall elf in candlelight and the girl's gaze snapped up to meet his. "My warrior has come for me!" she chimed, dancing to her feet and wrapping her thin arms around his torso. Endreas had frowned, shocked by her sudden action. Aelinore had pulled away, her face flushed red. "I...I suppose you think me a shameless harlot. Would that words could prove my love is pure!"

Her hand had come to a rest upon his chest and he gently closed gloved fingers around it. "Milady, only a fool could look upon thee as a harlot. Before my eyes I see a young maid with eyes as sad as a cool spring rain, too young to have learned the ways of the heart yet professes it to a man she barely knows."

She had taken a stung step away from him, but he kept her hand within his. She could not have been older than thirteen, at most and he took personal offence at the boldness of the nobles who had sold her off to be wed. "I speak no offence, milady," he continued, locking his gaze with hers. "But my heart already belongs to someone."

"I am sure she is very beautiful..." Aelinore whispered.

Endreas sighed, his gaze softening as Aelinore began to cry. "Dearest Aelinore..." he comforted. "My heart may have been captured, but that will not keep me from offering my friendship..."

His cries of pain echoed through the dungeon. He struggled to stay upon his feet to give his wrists some respite from supporting his weight. "Or..." the knight panted, reeling back to strike him again. "Perhaps you seek refreshment of a different sort!"

Endreas gritted his teeth, biting his tongue as he was jolted by the blow. "Like...a turn in the sheets with the duke's own wife!"

After her tears had dried, they had sat upon the edge of her bed, talking about life before the Duke and before the dragon. He had made her laugh, her eyes glistening in the flickering light as he recounted his adventures as a boy in Cassardis. He promised that, after the dragon was defeated, he would travel to the mainland and plead with her father for her freedom. He assured her that she would be wooed by some clean-faced and feather brained bard, weaving her fantasies of long poems and courtly love. But the small comfort of his presence was cut short by the loud capering of the jester approaching alongside the heavy footsteps of a burly man. The cockroach of a man was spewing all sorts of vulgarities. "Hurry," Aelinore yelped, pulling him to his feet and shoving him behind her dressing screen. "Hide here!"

The door swung open with a loud bang, Feste making more rude jokes as he slowly shut it behind his master. The beast of a man advanced slowly upon his wife, seemingly blind to the terror growing in her eyes. "My lord Edmun, would you had mentioned your coming, I might have dressed more finely..." she squeaked, pretending to be flustered at her husband's arrival.

With heavy steps he advanced upon her with not but a word, cornering her upon her mattress, a crazed look in his eyes. Endreas' eyes widened as he peeked out from his hiding place. "M-my lord... what are you-"

"Lenore!" he wailed. "Oh my love...." Tears fell from his eyes onto the Duchess' shocked face. "Forgive me!"

"My lord Edmun," Aelinore whispered, her voice filled with pity. "Is something-?"

With the crushing force of a madman his hands pressed against her fragile neck, cutting off all breath. She struggled feebly against his brutish strength. Endreas' heart stopped and the warmth in his blood was stolen away by this terrible spectacle. Without hesitation he sprung from his cover, toppling the screen, and pulling the duke away from her with all his might. As the first crashes of lightning illuminated his face, the old man blinked, his eyes regaining their clarity. "Where....? What am I...?" His gaze fell to the scarred face of the Arisen, confusion and accusation blinking through his eyes.

Aelinore had struggled to her feet.

Snap!

Her words seemed to falter in a panic, her face growing white as the duke's gaze danced from her to Endreas.

Snap! "Hm, you're tougher than you look..."

"This..." she hesitated, looking at Endreas for a brief moment in regret. Then, her eyes grew cold and resolute. "This wicked fool mistook a trifling kindness that I once paid for something more!"

His heart froze, too shocked to react to her sudden declaration. He stepped forward to speak but she cut him off with a venomous tongue. "He stole into my room! I was terrified!"

"Sire, I would nev-"The duke turned to him, his brow sharply furrowed.

SNAP!

"This commoner must be made to learn sire!" Aelinore shrieked. "Give him a taste of the lash and a stay in the dungeon!"

The commotion summoned the guards who seized him roughly after the shock of seeing his visage. He could not struggle, for her words had cut him too deep.

Endreas threw his head back and howled in pain, sticky blood oozing from the final blow. The veins in his neck stuck out vividly from under his pallid skin and he fell unceremoniously into a heap when they cut him from his bonds. With every small movement, the wounded flesh opened further, more blood pooling around him. With nothing but a minor spell to keep him from bleeding out, the knights threw him into a damp cell with nothing but a torn blanket. Endreas curled his knees to his chest, shaking breath rattling through him. By the Maker, how he wished his pawn was here to save him as he had so many times before. Or his darling Quina, to whisk him back home and soothe his pain with her sweet lips.

His stomach heaved with the thudding pain and he strained to roll over, spilling the meager contents of his stomach onto the floor. And he wept, vomit upon his chin, cold sweat shilling his skin and dried blood straining his back. He could not hear the dainty sobs of a girl outside of his cell, for he was consumed by the pits of his own despair and betrayal. He begged for darkness to take him and eventually it was granted in the form of a restless sleep, the duchess' tapestry woven eternally onto his flesh.