Chapter 14 #3
The sound that erupted from Jack, ragged, visceral, was born from the rawest depth of pain. It tore through the sky like a vengeful axe. It echoed through the courtyard and rang off the mountains, pillaging through every fiber of my existence.
The crowd fell silent as if his screams had ripped out their cursed throats.
That’s when I realized true Hel had only just begun.
Twenty-one. Twenty-two.
Each lash wrung another violent bellow from his chest, his voice shredding with each blow, his throat scraped raw by agony.
The next eight blows felt like a lifetime. Soulstripper gave him no reprieve as the strikes kept coming. Jack couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. His grip on the chains tightened, the shackles digging into his wrists, tearing flesh. His legs shook, blood soaking what used to be white trousers.
Thirty-one.
Another pained, woeful scream erupted from his chest, and I felt my heart implode.
I looked to the heavens and pleaded to Skadi.
But my prayers went unanswered.
Nine more marrow-splintering blows… Nine more soul-crushing screams that would haunt me until the day I died.
Forty.
His knees finally gave out, and he sagged forward, body held up only by the chains biting into his wrists. Blood poured from his mouth.
Not being able to be at his side… Not able to stop this madness was destroying me inch by painful inch. I wanted to tear my gaze away. To run from the balcony and hide somewhere where I wouldn’t be able to hear his screams anymore, but I wouldn’t. I would not leave him to this agony alone.
Forty-one.
Forty-two.
Forty-three.
His body fell utterly still.
My chest caved as if Yulreth’s God of Thunder himself had struck me in the chest with his mighty hammer.
I didn’t realize what I’d done until I heard the crack, stone splintering beneath my hands. I looked down and saw I’d clawed through the balustrade. My fingers were raw, my palms bloody. Jagged lines scored the stone. How had I torn through stone with my bare hands?
I fell to my knees, trembling uncontrollably. Utterly decimated. Shaking so hard I thought my bones might shatter. But I continued to watch him through the balusters. I refused to leave him, refused to not suffer with him.
Forty-four. Forty-five.
The whip tore what little remained of Jack’s shredded back, but the sickening blows had already done irreparable damage. Those wounds would scar not just his back, but his soul. Jack remained motionless. He didn’t whimper; he didn’t even look like he breathed.
The cruel whistle of Soulstripper ripped through the air four more times.
Until finally…
Fifty.
I closed my eyes in a silent thank you, hot tears streaming down my face in a deluge. It was over. The nightmare was over.
When I opened my eyes again, the courtyard had emptied.
Only three people remained. Varik stood tall near the whipping post, though far enough that his boots didn’t touch the blood-soaked stones.
Hands behind his back, his face showed no emotion.
The asshole was completely unaffected by the gore or by the fact that he’d assisted in the brutal lashing of his prince.
Lord Kaelven stood on the dais, too much of a coward to get close to Jack.
Perhaps he wasn’t certain the collar around Jack’s neck had fully nullified his power.
My blood sizzled. How I would’ve celebrated if a tendril of Jack’s magic had lingered, just long enough to slice through the degenerate chancellor’s neck.
The scourgemaster walked away, head low, whip trailing like a serpent. He’d done his duty. It was now time to crawl back into the depths of Hel he’d surfaced from.
Varik and Kaelven followed, marching back to the palace as if the person on the ground before them wasn’t their dying, bloodied prince but a pile of garbage.
My lips quivered. Everyone had abandoned him. The whole of Isenheim. My family. The queen. The royal court. The guard. They’d left him crumpled on the floor, mangled, bleeding to death, his only companion the falling snow that blanketed his back.
I’d dedicated my whole life to serving this kingdom.
I’d vowed to serve and protect the crown and all the citizens of Skadgard…
But seeing the carnage, seeing the way they’d left their prince in that courtyard as if his life—his pain—was worth nothing…
Gods. There was nothing Jack wouldn’t do to protect his people, yet they’d so easily cheered when he was cut down.
It made me question everything… Made me question my Warrior’s Oath.
My breaths ran ragged with fury, slicing through the deafening silence.
I rose to my feet, ready to blast through this palace, ready to run to my prince and break those fucking chains wrapped around his wrists, when I caught sight of Ravin running to Jack’s body.
He unshackled the chains, his hands shaking as he tried to lift Jack into his arms, but Jack was too limp, too slick with blood.
And still, no one came out to help him. No one.
My vision blurred, rage and despair twisting into something invidious. Murderous.
And I knew then, with frightening clarity, that I would never forget this.
I would never forgive this.