It’s Sunday again! That means time for another excerpt of… something.
This week’s lines are from Song and Sword. Dakkas has been captured and is being tortured, as is Kashrya, the young woman used as bait to capture him.
In the darkness of the dungeon, there was no time, only alternating periods of fresh pain. Dakkas wasn’t sure which was worse: the times that they were both dragged from the cell and he was forced to watch her be brutalized, or the times when she was dragged out and he was left alone to hear her cries.
He was grateful for whatever kindness it was that made their captors put them in the same cell, grateful for the chance to talk to her, to get to know her, to let her get to know him: futile, perhaps, and bittersweet with the knowledge that they may not live to see the next day, but he counted it as a blessing all the same.
They had not yet raped her: from the Orcish conversations he overheard, they seemed to be waiting for something – or someone. But the torture was taking its toll on her: she grew weaker with each passing session, until she was barely conscious. Dakkas could do nothing but hold her, let her know he was there, that she was not alone. He resorted to singing to her, old songs from his childhood. It seemed to soothe her, so he sang until his voice gave out, until it became harsh with overuse and unshed tears. And then he could only hold her, and rock her, and feel his soul die a little more with each barely felt breath she took.