The Treatment of the Lower Orders

The Treatment of the Lower Orders 23

DISCLAIMER:I do not own Robin Hood, but I do like to play with the characters from the tv series.

SUMMARY: Vaisey has them in his power, is this the end?

The darkness was not complete; if it had been, then perhaps the fear may not have been so great. In complete darkness, she could have imagined herself in a dream. But the tiny thread of light allowed that this was the real world, and here horror lingered.

The cell, if cell it was, seemed small. Elias could feel walls at both sides of her if she spread her arms. The cold stone, gritty and damp beneath her fingers, led her to believe she was below the level of the ground. The dungeons then.

Her head ached as though all the demons of hell raced and pounded in it. Vague glimpses of the great hall invaded her mind. Accompanied by odd snatches of words, not understood.

And the dreadful sight of Guy crashing to the floor, his life’s blood staining the rushes.

Her body was sore, scratched and bruised. The little covering she had was ripped from her by Vaisey. So her nakedness was complete. No glinting baubles or shiny coins, not even the discarded cloak that had been thrown over her shoulders at Guy’s instruction. She was naked as the day born, but strangely glad of it, free of all Vaisey’s trappings.

But where was Guy? Did he still live? How long would she?

She called softly, “Guy, are you there, is anyone there?” She was rewarded by the sounds of shuffling, grunts and the occasional moan.

Then the abrupt clang of chains.

“Aye, I am here. Are you bound?” his voice croaking, but was steady and close.

“I am not, but I can see little. Where are you, you are hurt?” In her mind’s eye she saw his beautiful face, blood seeping.

“Nay, my head hurts damnably but ‘tis all.” The chains rattled again as he moved. “Vaisey, he did not…?”

She stifled a laugh, and shook her head. “He was too interested in kicking you, to concern himself with diversion that I might offer.”

A scraping of metal, the scuff of footfalls and the ringing tones of Lord Vaisey cut through their exchange.

“Oh, how charming, the lovers are chit chatting! Like your accommodations? A clue, I do not care.”

Suddenly, Elias was flooded with light; she could see nothing because of it. Glare stung her eyes. She turned her head away as she was dragged up and out into the cold centre of the dungeon.

“Not as enticing today, are we!” Vaisey sneered, then turned his attention to Guy. “And you, dear boy. Back to haunt me I see. Also, not very impressive.”

Guy snarled and threw himself forward, the chains biting into his flesh, but still he strained to reach his nemesis.

“Oh, we are in a mood, are we not?” Vaisey laughed and stroked his beard. “Well, we have a nice little oubliette for the pair of you. When, of course, I have enjoyed all you have to offer.” He raised an eye brow and sniffed. “Though in all honesty, it does not seem you offer much.”

“Free her, let her go. She is nothing to you. You have me. Do what you will with me.” Guy was desperate.

Vaisey’s amusement at Guy’s self sacrifice was huge. When he regained his control and his chortling ceased, he coughed out. “Oh, I want you both, dear boy! And I hear you have a family, two daughters and a son, is it?” he said over his shoulder to his guard, who nodded confirmation. “Mayhap they can join us later, in our fun, hmm, what do you think to that?”

Guy hurled himself uselessly at the cause of his misery.

Elias threw her naked body upon him, battering and biting.

“You will…not…hurt my…children!” She was dragged, screaming curses at the surprised, but amused Vaisey.

“Oh, but this will be fun. Secure her…” He looked about him thoughtfully. “There.” He chose a spot opposite Guy. “Never say I am not a romantic soul. Now you can gaze at each other as we enjoy your…chastisement.” He caught the look of recognition in Guy’s face. “You thought I had forgotten my desire for your little friend? No not I. My need to mark her has grown. And at last, at last I will have my way.”

“Touch her and I swear I will…” Guy knew it was pointless, but he struggled forward against his chains nevertheless.

“You will what? Come back from the dead…again? By the way how did you do that? No never mind, I do not really care.” Vaisey sneered as he advanced with his guard close about him. “Hold him down!”

Guy was forced to the floor, his head dragged back so he was compelled to look into Vaisey’s face.

“Did I mention that I quite like pale male flesh, too?”

“My lord, there is a messenger from the king. It would seem to be urgent.” A clerk had entered the chamber and announced the news of the king’s communication without a glance at the prisoners.

“Oh, God’s bollocks, what next? Am I always to be harassed thus by that ingrate?” He turned away and grunted orders to his waiting soldiers. “Well, it would seem I will have to wait for my entertainment.” He swiped at Gisborne’s lowered head and strode away.

Oddly, the clerk did not follow. He hung back as the assorted soldiery took their places on guard.

Elias, exhausted, was chained to the floor just out of Guy’s reach, but close enough that he could whisper to her.

“Look at the scribe, look close,” he hissed.

She sighed and rubbed her face, and looked up into the beaming smile of Much of Bonchurch, the son of the Locksley Miller.

His expression quickly changed as a guard approached him.

“What are you lookin’ at monk! She’s not for you to ogle. Get yoursel’ back to your books.”

“Humph, I’ll have you know that…” The guard pulled Much away by the scruff of his neck, “Well do you not think she should have aught to cover her, for Christian decency?”

The guard shoved Much away and snapped, “Then give ‘er your cloak, monk!”

Much straightened himself and stuck out his chin in defiance.

“Then by St Martin, that is what I shall do” He took off his cloak and hesitantly tossed it to Elias. As she gratefully draped it about her freezing body, a tiny cloth bundle fell into her lap. She scurffed it up and sat it under her.

The guard pushed Much toward the door. But the millers son turned and giving a benediction to her, called, “and remember your compline office.”

“Jesu, what does he think we may do? Pray our way out?” Guy slumped back, despondent.

But Elias smiled as she worked loose a long darning needle free from the cloth. All she needed to pick the lock of her chains. And if she understood Much’s meaning aright, they needs wait for the compline bell, for then, rescue may be at hand.