The Duke and the Enchantress

Chapter Three - The Dungeons

Chapter Three – The dungeons 

The dungeons under Connor Keep were never meant to be hospitable.  The cold stone stairs descended into the dark and airless caverns far under the main floors of the castle.  As soon as the heavy door opened, the stink hit Liam in the face like a slap.  It was the smell of death, of rotting flesh, feces, and the burn of ammonia.  He put the sleeve of his shirt over his nose as his eyes watered.  The guards at the door passed worried glances between them.  “Your grace,” the bolder one addressed the duke with a bow.  “You hadn’t better go down there.  Pray tell which prisoner you want to see, and we will fetch them for you.” 

“I will go for myself, thank you,” He shouldered past the guards and started down the long, dark stairs, down into the bowels of hell.  Torches burned in holders on the wall, sucking away precious oxygen from the air and adding their acrid smoke to the stench.  Rats scurried across the stairs, squeaking in surprise as he approached.  He observed that even the rats look emaciated.  When the rats are starving, the conditions must be very bad. Once they reached the lowest level, the duke could hear the groans and moans of men, even though they were mostly obscured in the shadows of their cells, cells that were made from caves carved from the stone, and closed with iron bars. 

“Duke!  Your grace!” A skeleton of a man pressed himself eagerly against the bars, “Have mercy on my soul, your grace!  I’ve left my wife three bairns behind...”   Whether the man meant to smile or to grimace, he pulled back his lips and showed the duke that he was missing most of his teeth, and what remained were just rotted black stumps.  The duke looked away, and searched the other cells.   

“Where is she?” he growled. 

“Your grace?” the guards looked frightened and guilty. 

“I said,” Liam raised his voice to a dangerous octave, “Where is the woman?” 

The guard cringed and gestured toward the very back of the dungeons, the darkest, dampest corner.  As the party moved away from the other prisoners it grew quiet, and Liam could hear the sound of water dripping from some unseen fissure in the ceiling.  “Bring a torch,” he ordered, for he could see nothing in the inky darkness.  The coppery smell of fresh blood mixed with the other awful smells.  In the flickering torchlight, in the farthest corner, he could barely make out the form of a body, curled on her side, with her back to the bars.  She did not move a muscle as he approached. 

“Is she even alive?” 

“Aye, she’s alive.  Least wise she was this morning,” the guard pulled the keys from his belt and offered them out to the duke.  “Iff’n you want to check for yourself, your grace.” 

Liam frowned at the keys.  “Unlock it.”  The guard nodded his head and went to the lock, sorting through the keys on the ring until he found the correct one to fit the antiquated mechanism.  It clattered loudly as it released, and the hinges squawked as the door swung open.  Liam saw the figure flinch at the noise, so sure enough, she was alive. 

“Hey, there.  On yer feet for the Duke,” the guard bellowed. 

Liam found himself holding his breath as she moved ever so slowly.  She rolled first to her stomach, and then pushed herself up on her hands and knees, and then finally stood on trembling legs.  She was covered in filth and excrement.  Her hair was matted and hung wildly about her face, obscuring her features from from his view.  She wore only a torn shift, which must have been white once, but was now the color of mud.  The bottom was stiff with blood, and as she stood, Liam saw a rivulet of fresh blood drip down from her inner knee to her ankle.  The stink of her almost made him vomit in his mouth, but there she was, his daughter’s savior. 

“What’s your name?” the duke demanded. 

She lifted a hand to push the dirty curtain of hair out of her eyes.  Despite her deplorable condition, he saw strength and hatred there.in their charcoal depths  Her lips were cracked and swollen and caked with blood.  She opened her mouth, and he leaned forward expectantly.  Her voice came out, barely a broken whisper. 

“F.uck you.”