The Obsidian Pillar

Chapter Thirty-six

The painful slap across my face woke me and I struggled to open my swollen eyes.

'The water,' an unfamiliar male voice ordered. I felt the ice cold liquid splash at me from what must have been a bucket.

I shivered on the hard ground, my teeth chattering and my bones aching. A hand grasped a clump of my hair and shook my sore head. 'Wake up, whore,' a different voice demanded. I prised my lids open slowly.

'You are to be tried for murder, thrice over, and for the crime of witchcraft, by the High Priest of Vakaaria and his Highness King Edrik Murtan of Vakaaria. Do you understand?' I frowned in confusion.

A tall man with long, smooth, blonde hair and a blue jacket with an upturned collar, read from a stretch of parchment in front of me. The small, troll-like man who held my hair pulled it until I appeared to nod.

'That's not legally binding, you fool!' he spat at the ugly, little man. 'Do you understand, Valla of Willowheathe?' How did he know who I was? I felt the troll pull my hair once more and that time I willingly nodded to stop him from tugging my sore scalp.

'Good, let's move on,' he announced to the troll, who scurried gleefully over to another prisoner.

I was cuffed by my wrists to a chain that was fused to the stone floor. I looked around at the cold dungeon. It wasn't so different to the crypt in Willowheathe, save for the fact that it was ten times larger and full of prisoners. At least I wasn't alone.

'Let me see her,' a voice called with anticipation from a distance. It was too dark for me to see where it came from, but I knew that I had heard that voice before.

Following the sounds of protest, with the disembodied voice eventually winning, I was confronted with the sight of Cynbel, marching angrily towards me. To my pleasure his lip had been split.

'There you are, you little slut.' He stood over me, his shining black boots glaring in the dim light of the dungeon. 'Aren't you going to greet me?' he demanded. His hands moved to hips, his voice rising several notches higher than usual as I smirked up at him.

In a moment of foolish bravery, I spat at his polished boot, and without a second's thought, he kicked me in the face with it. I reluctantly moaned in pain as he crouched by me, surveying me with disgust.

'You didn't get very far without his protection, did you?' His lip curled at my surprise. 'That's right, I have spies everywhere. That was one thing that my father taught me which was useful. Actually, I just came to inform you,' he continued coldly, 'that Sebastien is home now. He is where he belongs and is due to marry sooner than he had hoped. Isn't that good news? Oh, and whilst we are on the subject of good news, you're to die in the morning. Yes, it's wonderful, isn't it? I had a word with the High Priest and he couldn't wait to burn you once I told him of all the horrid things you've done.'

He leaned in closer, until his breath was upon my face, invading my nostrils as he whispered, 'You know, it's funny really, I didn't even have to fabricate much. You actually deserve to be punished, don't you?'