The curse of the jewels, book 1 - The Peasant Queen

IV - Alcyan Ford twenty years earlier. (2/2)

He entered a hallway that, although renovated, was devoid of decoration. Taking a torch, he went down several flights of stairs. With each turn of the spiral staircase, the humidity of the place increased. Soon it began to ooze from the walls. He pushed open a door and entered a small room. On one side, it opened onto a long corridor leading to the castle's jails. The Drow had no interest in it. He passed through the last door and found himself in a circular room, immense and dark because it had no windows and had a high ceiling. The layout of the place clearly indicated its function: brazier, easel, boots, an iron maiden, pulleys on the ceiling, left no ambiguity. And its size spoke volumes about the importance its builder gave to this activity. However, all these diabolical devices had been pushed back in a corner, the current squire had no use for them. He had kept only a wooden frame, from which hung some short chains, for the moment empty of captive.He approached the wall. With his torch, he lit the oil lamp placed in a niche. An ingenious system, which he had designed, communicated the flame to a whole series of lamps - most of them located on a ledge halfway up the ceiling - spreading an intense glow in the room. The place was now brilliantly lit.In the floor, a ring had been sealed. From the ring ran a chain. And at the end of the chain, a young girl was held captive by her ankle. For the moment, she seemed to be sleeping. The Drow knew she wasn't. She was pretending, hoping that he would leave without taking care of her. Pretending to be dead, a tactic used in nature by the weak to escape predators. With some success it must be said, because carnivores were often suspicious of dead prey apparently without any visible wounds. Except that he was no ordinary predator, he wasn't there to feed, and this tactic was pointless.With her eyes half closed, Deirane watched her captor. She was terrified and barely dared to breathe. The Drow moved towards her. He crouched down right at her face. The girl's heart missed a beat. She was waiting for him to leave, but he didn't seem to want to do so. A searing pain suddenly twisted her thigh. Panicked, she got on all fours and tried to run away as far as the chain would allow.The Drow had a self-satisfied smile on his face. No more pretending to be dead now. He had managed to trigger a panic that would overwhelm her and make her his thing. He walked over to a table with some instruments on it. He took a square of cloth and a bottle of mead, a spirit too strong to be consumed pure, and returned to Deirane. He cleaned his knife with the peasant woman's dress before sheathing it. With the cloth soaked in alcohol, he wiped the drop of blood. The shackle prevented the prisoner from removing her leg while he treated her.Deirane begged the Drow for mercy. The latter paid no attention. He knew the languages of humans, he considered them unworthy of him and used them only under duress. As he didn't seem to react to her words, she resumed her pleas in Helariamen. This aroused the lord's interest. She was bilingual. If he had thought about it, it would not have surprised him, Helariamen was the commercial lingua franca of the continent, including Sernos. And even though her Helariamen was hesitant and full of mistakes, it could be understood.The Drow pulled his chair right in front of the prisoner. He sat down, looking thoughtful. He scrutinized her, figuring out what he was going to do with her. Because her captor remained still, Deirane stopped talking and stared at him.Then he made up his mind. Suddenly, he stood up and pushed back his chair. Taking Deirane by the arm, he raised it. She started to howl with terror. Without much effort, he dragged her towards the gallows. The chain was long enough, he didn't have to untie it. Ignoring the kicks and punches she gave him with her free hand, he clamped her wrist. Pulling back just a little when she tried to bite him, he seized her other hand and tied it as well. Then he took care of the ankles. He had to do it several times as she struggled. Despite everything, he ended up doing it. Completely immobilized, she forced on her shackles to try to free herself. In vain.He rolled his tablet over to her. Seeing the instruments, scalpels, clamps, thread, needles and other surgical instruments placed on them, the girl's eyes widened in horror. In one corner, there was a wooden box with a large spool of gold thread on it. The Drow opened it and took out several compartmentalized trays filled with gems, neatly arranged by type and shape. All of them were small, except for one, a perfectly pure ruby.Then he turned to his prey. She remained frozen for a moment. Before spouting her pleas in a tone that bordered on hysteria. Without worrying about it, he walked over to her. Grabbing her bodice, he pulled it back, stripping her completely. She became silent at once. His glance reflected his fear. He pulled back and admired it. Magnificent, a true diamond. A rough diamond, whose beauty he was going to reveal. Who would have thought that a simple peasant girl could be so beautiful? There were certainly prettier ones in the capital or in the south of the continent. But before the jeweler's work, the diamond itself doesn't look very much. He was going to be that jeweler.Taking his chair, he sat down in front of her. He imagined the shape his work would take, where he would arrange the stones, the pattern they would draw. He thought for a long time. Outside, the sky was beginning to lighten when he stood up. He took his smallest scalpel and began his work. For Deirane, a long ordeal had begun.Night was falling when the Drow returned to his seat, his job done. He looked at the young woman. She stopped screaming several hours ago. He had kept her awake as long as possible, giving her potions to prevent her from fainting. He had let her pass out because he was afraid her heart would give out under the pain. She had to survive, otherwise it would be another failure, she would join all the failed attempts buried in the park. He didn't want that to happen. Fortunately, this one seemed stronger than the others. She had held on almost to the end. Her heart had held out. She would live.Once all the stones were in place, he had completed his work by applying a spell that would hold them in place. No one could remove them again; the magic would kill anyone who tried before he could exert enough effort to pull one out. The stones couldn't be separated either, any attempt to mutilate them would result in the death of the person responsible. And the golden threads had become unbreakable, protecting her from sharp blows. Nothing could damage his creation, except death. He hoped so, anyway. The Drow had no mastery of magic, so he would have to trust the demon he had bought it from, something he didn't like. Once the spell was transferred to the tortured young body, the glass bubble that contained it burst with a crystalline sound.He stood there for a long time staring at her before falling asleep, exhausted by his work.When he woke up, he could see that she had regained consciousness. She was looking at him. He got up, took a decanter and a glass from the bottom shelf of his table. He made her drink. While he expected gratitude, he got it. All that Deirane's face expressed was a mixture of fear and hatred. He didn't care. He didn't care what the lower races thought. He waited for any reaction from her. He was disappointed, once quenched she had let her head fall back on his shoulder, staring into the void so as not to see him."I gave you an extraordinary gift," he said finally, "if you use it skillfully, you will have an interesting life. You will see, one day you will thank me."She raised her head and looked at him. He guessed that if she had had the strength and courage, she would have spat in his face.Then he noticed her hand. She was wearing a jewel on her middle finger, a gold ring. Strange that he noticed it only now, whereas he had had plenty of time to observe her. He took it, examining it carefully. The diamond was a shard of quartz and the rubies were colored glass, while the ring was made of copper, polished to shine like gold and varnished so as not to tarnish. Beautiful work, prepared by a craftsman who knows his trade, a fake ring, nevertheless. Just what he expected from a peasant girl. He put it on his own finger."From now on, you won't have to wear fake stones. And this way, I'll keep something of yours when you leave here."He pushed the table out of her reach, then untied her. He checked to make sure the chain on her ankle was secure. She crawled away from him as far as she could. He threw her dress to her. She grabbed it, tightening it convulsively against her chest. He left the room, leaving the lamps on. When she was assured that he would not return, Deirane got dressed.