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-Chapter
5-
March
6, 1609
-Liam-
Several times Liam lost his footing
and hit the ground behind the horses’ trotting hooves. Guards were quick to strike
him with the hilt of their swords, all the while hurling insult after insult upon
him, forcing him back to his feet. He mustered what little strength he had left
to pull himself off the ground as he was towed through the muck behind the
moving horses. He knew he deserved every bit of it.
The verbal attacks
of the guards were greater than the physical ones, for they played to his guilt
and his shame. They mocked and scorned him, letting him know that he was scum,
and he knew they were right. He was no better than the horse manure through
which he walked. He had never craved death more fully than he did at this
moment.
Avendale’s
dungeon was located a mere twenty minutes by foot from the docks on the
outskirts of the town. The twenty-minute walk felt more like twenty hours to
Liam. He looked up to catch a glimpse of the ghastly towering stone fortress
standing menacingly before him—the Cirian Guard dungeon. Tears started to well
up in his eyes as reality took hold. He knew enough to suppress the tears. Guards
beat prisoners for showing evidence of weakness, and he had been beaten enough
for now.
As they pulled to
a stop, one of the cloaked guards dismounted and released the chain from behind
the horses. Seizing the chain in his hands, he gave it a tight jerk to force
Liam to scramble after him. The shackles around his wrists and ankles cut into
his skin, causing blood to drip down his feet and hands. The guard gave a cruel
chuckle.
“Get used to it,” he
spat.
The guards marched
him through the entrance of the dungeon and down the pathway that led to the
cells below. They led him deeper and deeper into the underground labyrinth.
Liam could feel it getting colder and darker with each step. He knew they’d
reached the bottom when the pathway opened up into a large circular room.
Torches lined the walls.
The guards wasted
no time. Shoving him to the center of the room, they tore off his clothing
piece by piece until he stood naked before them.
“You messed with
the wrong young lady,” one sneered. “Lucius Shade’s stepdaughter? You’ll be
lucky to see the dawn of day.”
They pulled him by
the chains down an adjoining corridor. Soon they had reached the quarters where
the prisoners were housed. Mockingly the guards paraded Liam before the rest of
the prisoners, chanting before him, “Here before you walks the filth of the
earth, the scum who molested our head guard’s stepdaughter.”
Yells and bellows
of disgust rippled through the hall.
“Have your way
with him,” a guard scorned as he shoved Liam to the stone floor.
Fear paralyzed
him. In a flash he foresaw his life coming to an end. Is this how it’s to be? Beaten to death by an angry mob of inmates?
But he was no molester. Nothing could
be further from the truth. It had been consensual. And they had come to him and
seduced him. He thought back to Opal’s
pursuits and advances. He had tried
to resist. Oh, how he had tried.
Then again, at
this point, what did it matter, anyway? He had nothing left to live for. If this
was how his life would end, then so be it.
He wouldn’t have
to wait for long. To Liam’s surprise, a large man strode over and picked him up
off the ground.
“Anyone who touches
this man will answer to me,” was all the man said.
The prisoners
shouted obscenities, but they knew better than to lay a hand on Liam.
“Thank you,” Liam
whispered.
“I can help you,”
the man murmured.
Liam nodded in
gratitude.
The guards
returned an hour later. To their disappointment, they found that Liam had no
additional wounds other than the ones they themselves had inflicted upon him.
Gruffly they dragged him away and put him in a cold, isolated cell of his own.
One flickering
torch on a wall outside his cell shed light to his surroundings. Once his eyes
had adjusted to the dimness, Liam pulled himself to his feet and strained his
eyes to look around. Not that there was much to look at. He could reach out his
hands and touch the opposing walls simultaneously. Looking down, he beheld a
dirty, cold stone floor. The smell of human excrement filled his nostrils. With
it came a new wave of nausea. He grabbed for his stomach, but the act of doing
so caused a searing pain to shoot through his wrists. His wounds. He looked
around to see what he could do to ease the pain, but as he had suspected, there
was nothing in the dank cell but soiled straw. He sank to his knees.
This life had
nothing left for him. His family was gone. His marriage was gone. His business
was gone. All was gone.
Giving up, he curled
up into a fetal position on the foul floor and wept. With not a soul around,
the sobs came relentlessly, and his entire body shook.
“Please, Abba,”
was all he could mutter.
Facedown in filth,
Liam wept until he could weep no more. Out of sheer exhaustion, he began to
doze. Broken dreams came in the night—dreams of home and the life that he had
ruined.
Christian Historical Fiction
Available Formats: Hardback, Paperback, Ebook
Written by: Annie B. Carwyn
Available Formats: Hardback, Paperback, Ebook
Written by: Annie B. Carwyn
Published By: WestBow Press
Based on true events in the life of Jill Sousa
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