Always Faithful Chapter Thirty Five
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Always On GuardChapter 14 free porn video
Cruit Symington had spent the preceding days trying to figure a way out of his predicament. None came to him. He had committed treason against the Crown. There was no justifying his actions.
His failure would cost his family dearly. His brother's life was forfeit. His father and mother might be executed. His younger siblings could be killed. There was no way out for him.
"Symington," the jailer boomed. "You have visitors."
Visitors? Symington wondered if his parents had come to his aid. He doubted they would. He knew his brother was at his mother's estate in Domita.
He cringed when he saw Jorgarn and Sir Torbert standing in front of his cell. Both carried a look of raw anger on his face.
"Know this, Symington," Torbert said. "You live only because we have found a use for you. If you cease being useful, you will die – Longview style. Want to fill him in on how you kill traitors in Longview, Jorgarn?"
The feral smile that creased Jorgarn's face sent chills to Symington's toes.
"He is less than a woman but I suppose we could use that method," Jorgarn sneered. "In Longview, men are tied to four horses which are then sent in different directions. It's called quartering. I understand it is highly painful and it takes a while to die after your limbs are ripped from your body. Some men have lived for a week afterward because we cauterize the wound to staunch the bleeding. The remains are buried at five points on the compass. Our priests believe it ensures the man will wander the afterlife in torment."
Symington gulped noticeably.
"That is actually the most humane death we offer traitors," Jorgarn continued without pause. "Women are dealt with even more harshly. Generally, we allow them to be used for sexual gratification for several weeks – usually until they are almost comatose. Men, women, dogs, horses. They are used by almost everything. We simply tie them naked in the courtyard and let whoever wants them to have them. Just before they lose consciousness for the last time, we revive them. Then we shove a red-hot poker up their rears and sear their bowels closed. Death from internal infection usually takes another five or six days of excruciating pain."
He sighed wistfully.
"I am really looking forward to seeing Master Symington down on all fours trying to accommodate a stallion," Jorgarn said brightly. "I think I'll bring all the Emertland Guard and their women to watch. We can make a week-long party of it. Perhaps we can use it for entertainment the week before the Princess' ascension. I can keep him alive that long. I'm sure of it."
"You, you can't do that," Symington stammered. Jorgarn stepped forward lightly and drove his fist into the young man's stomach. Symington doubled over and retched on the floor.
"You are in no position to tell me what I can and cannot do," Jorgarn said flatly. "You have plotted the kidnapping not only of the Heiress to the Crown of Emertland but a member of the sovereign house of a foreign nation, my stepmother. You have sought to harm not one, but two women I am sworn to protect. I will do to you whatever I wish to do. If I cannot do it here, I will drag you to Longview where I will do it there. If I cannot do it either place legally, I will do it without sanction and accept whatever punishment is required. The only man who can stop me is His Royal Highness, King Landor. You had better come to that realization quickly and firmly. Now, on your feet."
Fieth and Renoit dragged a sputtering Symington to stand. Torbert dumped a pitcher of water over the young man's head in a vain attempt to alleviate the stench.
Symington, with his arms gripped tightly by Fieth and Renoit and with Pernice and Jorgarn's sword points in his kidneys, followed Torbert down the long dimly lit hallway and up the stone stairs to the main chamber. King Torbert sat regally on his throne in flowing finery and his crown perched firmly on his head.
Fieth and Renoit moved Symington to a spot before the King. Jorgarn hit Symington with the blunt edge of his sword behind the knees.
"Bow before your King and Master," Jorgarn spat. There was no play-acting on his part. Left to his own devices he would cut Symington into pieces one inch at a time.
"" Jorgarn heard in his head. "
Uma
- 18.09.2022
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