"Where is the cave?" The big man asked quietly, as if quizzing a student at school.
Their prisoner lay on the ground face down, his hands still tied behind his back. Fyen wished the soldier would just tell them what they wanted to know so that the disgusting display could end.
"Where is Mirlín?" Reynaer demanded calmly.
The woman's name struck some chord deep in Fyen's mind. It made her feel a little better so she grasped at whatever had stirred the new feeling, something that made it easier to be a part of this scene.
"That bitch had it coming," the man on the ground spat.
That's Mirlín he's talking about! And he knows exactly where she is! Probably being either tortured or killed right as we're speaking! A strange sensation started spreading throughout her entire being as Fyen remembered her friend. A voice in her head remarked that this man was responsible for whatever happened to Mirlín. Fyen's hands grew cold and started trembling. She had felt this way only once before.
Taking a few tentative steps forward, Fyen got closer to the prisoner who raised his eyes and looked at the girl.
"Give it your best shot, you little cunt!" he scoffed.
Fyen could feel adrenaline rushing into her body. All right, he's asking for it! Because of him, Mirlín might die! We have no time, we need to get the information fast! Hesitating at first as she considered what she should do, the girl braced herself, stepped back with one foot, and proceeded to kick at the man's head. Surprisingly enough, the target didn't seem too fazed nor was there any blood where Fyen's foot had struck. But her foot hurt. However, rage was building up inside her and, on an impulse, she decided to let go, remove the dam, and let all her anger, fear, and frustration flow out of her and over the mercenary at her feet. She pulled her leg back and kicked the side of the man's head again, harder than before, ignoring the signals of pain her brain was receiving from the already hurting limb. His head jerked to the side and he let out a quiet moan, clearly stunned.
"You ready to speak yet?" Reynaer's voice sounded from somewhere nearby but Fyen's anger hadn't reached its peak yet.
In fact, it only kept gaining momentum and she felt a strong urge to just inflict as much pain on the bastard as she possibly could. But how? Kicking seemed too mild but the sword would kill him too quickly. So she walked to where the man's feet were and looked down. His ankles were tied together but she felt certain her heel would connect with its target nonetheless. An animal grimace on her face, the girl started stomping on the mercenary's groin. Again and again the foot came down.
“You fucking...” the man on the ground groaned breathlessly.
Fyen felt a hand on her shoulder. "Why don't we listen if he's got something to say now, ok?" Reynaer suggested.
He looked at Fyen in a strange way but didn't say anything else. It wasn't until now that she noticed she was out of breath and strands of hair stuck to her forehead. Wiping off the hair and sweat, she nodded, stepped back, and watched as Reynaer knelt beside the now convulsing man.
"She gave your nuts quite a workout there, eh?" The prisoner didn't seem to hear what he had said so Reynaer leaned his right hand on the man's head and used his left thumb to press on the mercenary's right eye. Soon the night air was pierced by yet another scream. "You ready to listen to me now? Good. We can carry on like this all through the night, you know. And please, don't think you can somehow get out of this situation because, and I'm not going to lie to you, we will kill you eventually. So it's just a matter of how much you want to suffer before you die. It could be quick and clean, wouldn't need to shit your pants or anything. Or, if you carry on like this, it will take hours, maybe days, and I assure you, you will feel every second of it right until the very end... which won't come quickly." Reynaer looked at the prisoner right in his eyes. "And don't you even try to pass out on me here. I'll cut your eyeballs and sprinkle salt in them if you try that. It'll bring you right back to our gentle care. I learned that from the pirates of the Golden Ark." His voice even and calm, Reynaer continued: “Where is Mirlín? How many men are with her?”
Fyen strolled around their small camp. Her hand fell on her dagger's hilt. It occurred to her that she could probably use it on the mercenary somehow. It would probably be quite gruesome. Could I do it? If I work myself up to a fit of rage... but it would have to be controlled so I won't accidentally kill him. She already had one death on her hands and she didn't want another. Though if Mirlín's life depends on it... well, maybe...
Fyen mustered up her courage, feeling not unlike she had done when she had decided to make a stand between the horses and the wild man in the woods. "Hey, could I do something with this dagger here?" she asked Reynaer.
He turned to her and considered her suggestion for a while. "Well, we could start peeling him?"
From the corner of her eye Fyen noticed that the prisoner's right eye widened at the suggestion. His left eye had swollen shut a while ago. Would Reynaer really have me skin him alive? Her stomach lurched as she thought about it.
Then she swallowed and stepped forward, praying that Reynaer was bluffing. "Why not?"
The big man went over to their prisoner and said to Fyen: "I've heard that if you make a deep, vertical cut on the face, piss on it, and stomp on the face, the skin should come off. Want to try it out? Me or Mr. Cock over there can do the urinating so don't worry about that," he said and motioned towards Desiderius, who looked slightly green in the face.
The girl felt her hands grow numb as she slowly gripped the dagger's hilt, took a deep breath, and pulled it out of the sheath.
Reynaer moved to the other side of the man lying on the ground. "You can kneel here beside his head so you can use your bodyweight to make a deeper cut."
Even Fyen's knees had started trembling as she stepped next to the mercenary. She knelt down slowly and sat back, turning the dagger in her hands this way and that, in search of the best grip though she knew that in reality she was only stalling. All right... all right... I have to do this... I have to do this... for Mirlín... I will do this for her... I'm going to peel his face off... I have to... I have no choice! We have to find her before they kill her!
Fyen placed the tip of the dagger on the man's forehead, took another deep breath, pressed as hard as she could, and started to make the cut from his forehead to his chin.
If felt like a short eternity before the man screamed. The blade had just reached the spot between his eyes, right where the bridge of his nose started. "Stop! Stop! She's in the cave five miles northeast from here! There's big rocks to the left of the road! Go in the woods there, the cave's behind the rocks! There’s four more guards, the lord and his priest! Stop cutting my face! For the sake of the Sun!"
It took a few seconds for it all to sink in but then Fyen let out the breath she had been holding while making the cut and looked at Reynaer, who was smiling the coldest smile she had seen. He knew all along! This wasn't the kind, caring bear of a man who she had come to know and like during the past few days. This was someone else and he scared her. Still she felt a need to appear like a good student, a brave apprentice, and so chose to wipe her dagger's bloodied blade on the mercenary's sleeve. The man on the ground glanced at her. It was only a quick look but that was what made it bad: she had become someone a person worried about. The glance had been there to make sure she wouldn't hurt him anymore. Disgusted with herself, Fyen stood up and walked away.
Though still appalled, she felt strangely energetic, almost thrilled in some sick way. She felt the urge to jump and run around but thought it wouldn't be proper at this time. It felt ridiculous, the need to move around, expend energy. The feeling kept growing and then she recognized it for what it was and made a dash for it. Just as she reached the tree line, she slumped down on her knees, felt her stomach spasm, and vomited on the grass.
Quickly Fyen wiped her mouth and stood up despite feeling still faint. I have to look like this is nothing to me! She turned around to the others and saw that Reynaer had tied their bleeding prisoner to a tree.
"Somebody'll eventually hear his screams. If not... well, that's not our problem anymore," he said casually. "Shall we?"
Having mounted their horses, both Fyen and Desiderius, who looked extremely pale, nodded, and they all broke into a gallop. It wasn't long before they reached the place the man had told them about. To the left of the road there were three large rocks among the trees.
They left the horses there and walked quietly, trying to find the entrance of the cave. Fyen saw it first and signaled to Reynaer and Desiderius. They came to her and she pointed to her right. It was maybe 200 yards from them. There was a very small clearing in front of the cave, then there was a patch of thick bushes after which the undergrowth seemed to melt into the forest. Reynaer motioned for the others to follow him back to the road.
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