“Yes, sir.”
“No!” Richard lunged back in Alexandra's direction only to be restrained by Rupert.
Tom ran over to help drag Richard away before his father took notice and beheaded the fool for good measure. He was not sure what the boy thought would happen, but Tom felt the lad’s pain nonetheless. This was all Quinton’s fault, with his sick obsession over what Alexandra was doing. If he did not insist on following their sister around, none of this would have happened, but Quin seemed to have a personal vendetta against her.
Standing in the corner with a soured look on his face, Quinton watched Alex kneel and bowed her head to their father. This outcome was far from ideal, but at least he would still see the wench punished. Maybe his sister would finally surrender to the natural order of things after she experienced pure pain, but Quinton would not hold his breath over it. Crossing his arms, he studied Alexandra as she lifted her head to look up at Arthur.
“Thank you, father, you are very kind.”
With an anguished expression on his face, Arthur turned his back to his daughter. He wanted nothing more to do with what would happen next. “Take her away Quinton. You will oversee her punishment. Just make sure they use the black whip, we would not want to damage her flesh permanently.”
“Of course, father, leave it to me.” Quinton grabbed hold of Alex’s arm and yanked her up to her feet. “Come with me sister. I will take good care of you.”
With a tight, painful grip on her arm, Quinton shoved her forward in front of him. He would undoubtedly enjoy this, and he would be sure to make some minor adjustments to the punishment. He knew their father would not check in on them, the old man was far too soft for that, so Alexandra was at his mercy now. Once out of Arthur’s earshot, Quin turned to Alex and sneered.
“Who knew little Alexandra would be such a good actress? Bravo, sister. You sure got father fooled.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about brother.”
“Of course you don't, how silly of me.” Quinton tightened his grip on Alex's arm as he shoved her forward making her stumble. “You know...” he mused, “I was hoping to see father behead lover boy right in front of you. But, I suppose, I just have to revel in the satisfaction of punishing the little tramp who almost cost him his head.”
Walking around the palace, past the usual cellar door Alex was familiar with, Quinton brought her to what they jokingly referred to as the dungeon. It was a small, dark room with a set of chains and an extensive selection of whips to punish disobedient servants. Along the wall was a rack of tools from the great war which were used to extract confessions from those who were thought to aid the resistance.
For years, countless men and women had been brutalized and murdered behind these walls. The entire place reeked of the blood shed there through the years, and Alex gagged at the pungent aroma as Quin pushed her through the iron gate into the small stone chamber. A short, portly man with a receding hairline leaned back in a corner chair, napping. Clearing his throat, Quinton startled the man to his feet who looked at them bewildered, clearly used to the peace which came years after the war.
“Lord Quinton. Lady Alexandra. What can I do for you?”
Without answering the man, Quinton pushed Alex forward, causing her land on her hands and knees in front of the executioner. As she tried to push herself up, Quin put his boot on top of her back, shoving her back down.
“I am afraid my insubordinate little sister requires some punishment. You are to give her one-hundred and fifty lashes old man.”
“Hundred an' fifty?”
“Are you deaf or just daft?” Quinton snarled “Yes, one-hundred and fifty.”
“But sir. Isn’t it a bit... much for such a tiny creature?”
“How dare you question me? Do you wish to get whipped yourself?”
“No, sir.”
“Good. Now do as you're told and give Alexandra what she deserves.”
The old man swallowed hard and reached down to lift Alex off the ground. She followed him to the wall with the chains. As the executioner placed her hands above her head, putting the cuffs around her wrists, he glanced at her apologetically.
“I'm real sorry 'bout this Lady Alexandra,” he whispered.
“It's all right.” she assured him. “Just do as he tells you. I can take it.”
The old man nodded and went to pick up a small whip when Quinton stopped him. Taking the leather strap out of the man's hand, Quin walked over to the display. Looking over the selection, he whistled merrily before picking out one he deemed more appropriate.
“Here. This one is better.”
The man turned white as a sheet and looked over at Alex chained to the wall. She gave him an assuring nod, and he took the thick whip into his shaking hands. Stepping back from Alexandra, Quinton leaned himself against the wall and smiled in her direction. He would stay and watch the lashing she was about to receive and make sure the executioner didn’t go soft on him. Closing her eyes, Alexandra took a deep breath, not wishing to give Quin the satisfaction of seeing her fear.
The whip cracked in the air, and Alex let out a painful scream as the burning pain surged through her body. She felt sick to her stomach. Her head was swimming, and she bit her lip, so she had something else to focus on. With another sharp crack, the whip graced itself across her back, making her scream again. Biting her lip harder and digging her fingernails into the palms of her hands, Alex did everything she could to keep from crying.
With every new crack of the whip, the sting got less and less painful as her body went numb. At what Alex guessed to be at least a hundred lashes she barely felt anything. Her back was raw and sore. With each new lash, she could feel the skin peeling away. No longer able to support the weight of her body, Alex’s legs gave out, and she dangled from the chains on the wall.
With her head hung low, Alexandra counted the lashes which remained. A final crack of the whip let her know the old man was done. As he released her from her bonds, Alex allowed her body to crumple to the floor. Kneeling beside her, the man attempted to help her back up to her feet, but Quinton who had strolled over to their side of the room pushed him aside.
“That will be all old man. Leave the chamber. I wish to speak to my sister, alone.”
Shooting Alexandra a nervous look the old man got up and bowed before leaving the room. He knew how sadistic Quinton could be, especially when it came to the princess, but he saw no alternative but to do as the prince told him. Hustling out of the dungeon, the executioner scampered for the servant’s quarters where Rupert would be. He’d be sure to tell the lady’s personal servant everything. If anyone would know how to heal Alexandra, it would be the mysterious old man who appeared before the queen learned of her pregnancy with the princess.
Quinton waited for the man to leave before bending down and grabbing hold of Alex’s locks. With a sharp pull of his arm, he hoisted her up by her hair onto her knees.
“Get up you filthy little whore. Get up and look at me.”
Lifting her face, Alex gave her brother the most hateful glare she could muster before she spat in his face.
“Why you little bitch!”
Lifting his left hand high in the air, Quinton backhanded her with such force that Alex fell back down on the floor. As she attempted to push herself up with her hands, he kicked her in the stomach sending her rolling across the room into the wall by the furnace.
“Stay down!” Quin howled.
Walking over, he proceeded to kick his sister repeatedly in the stomach. Alex attempted to curl up in a fetal position to protect herself, but it was no use. Quin continued his assault, landing one painful blow after another until Alexandra coughed up blood. Satisfied with his handiwork, Quinton gave her one more hard kick to turn her over onto her back.
“You may have fooled our father, but you did not fool me. I know what you and the peasant were up to.”
Yanking Alex up by her hair again, Quin
dragged her closer to the furnace. Picking up a branding rod used on cattle years ago, he stuck it in the oven. Pulling Alex’s face closer to his, Quinton hit her again as his anger continued to surge.
“It seems like you still need a little reminder about your place in the world, sister. A permanent one.”
Grabbing the rod out of the furnace, Quin pulled back Alexandra's hair and put the searing hot metal right behind her ear. A blood-curdling scream escaped her lungs as the flesh behind her ear sizzled with excruciating pain. The smell of burned skin was sickening, and Alex threw up on the ground by her brother’s feet. Satisfied, Quinton pulled the rod back and tossed it in the bucket of cold water.
“There, now you will always remember how you are nothing but the property of the Hamilton family. We can do with you as we please. So get any crazy ideas of freedom out of that pretty little head of yours.”
Lifting Alex up by her hair, Quinton placed her on her feet. Shoving her forward he kept a firm grip on the locks at the back of her head. Alex attempted to walk, but her legs were still weak from the lashing, and the beating Quinton gave her. Stumbling forward, she would have fallen on her face if it was not for the death grip Quin had on her hair. With a painful tug, she was back up on her feet, getting urged to walk by her brother’s hand.
“We'll take the servant entrance so no one will have to look at you.”
Pushing her forward, Quinton proceeded to a wood door that stood next to the torture chamber. The stairs beyond were old and narrow, and Alex welcomed their confining grasp to steady herself. Gripping her hands to the brick walls, she pulled her body along the stairwell. Every step caused pain to surge through her body, and a wave of nausea to come over her. Suppressing her tears, Alex pressed forward, afraid Quin would hurt her if she stopped.
Somehow, they made it to the second floor with no one seeing them. Standing outside the door of Alex’s room, Quinton clenched his hand around the back of Alexandra’s neck. Flinging the door to the room open, he tossed her across the floor. Sliding to a stop, Alex’s head hit the corner of her bed, causing a warm trickle of blood to roll down her forehead.
Standing over her, Quinton kicked Alex over on her back. She looked up to see him place his boot on top of her throat. Spitting in her face, Quin pressed his foot down harder, cutting off Alexandra’s air supply. Grasping at his boot she attempted to push it away, but it was no use, she had no strength left to fight back.
“If I ever catch you with a dirty peasant again sister, I'll kill you both personally.”
Taking the boot of her neck, Quinton turned around and left the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Alex waited to hear the latch lock before she rolled over and curled up on the cold, wood floor. No longer holding back, she let the tears flow down her face as her body trembled from the pain. One day, Alex thought, one day she would run away from there and never look back.
Pressing her nails deep into her palms, Alex swore she would never be like her family. As the blood streamed between her fingers, she surrendered to the pain. Letting herself slip away into unconsciousness, Alexandra did not know how long she lay there on the floor, or what time it was when the sound of her dresser opening startled her awake. A loud gasp echoed in her room, and she knew it was none other than Richard standing there, taking in the horror of what Quin did to her.
“Alex!” Scooping her up off the floor, Richard held her tight in his arms. “Alex, what have they done to you?”
Struggling to open her eyes, Alex couldn’t make him out through her blurred vision. All she could see was that Richard was crying. Reaching out a trembling hand, she whipped the tears from his face and forced herself to smile.
“I'll be fine.” she said weakly “Most of the injuries will heal within a few days’ time. Rupert will make sure of it.”
“You should have just let your father kill me.”
“No, don't say that.” Alex coughed up blood all over Richard’s white shirt. “I need you alive.”
“No, you don’t. Look at yourself. This is all my fault.”
“It was my choice to protect you, and I’d gladly do it again.”
“I know, but it doesn't make me feel any less guilty. I’m sorry Alex.”
Lifting her up off the floor, Richard walked over and placed Alex on her bed. Climbing in next to her he held her tightly in his arms and stroked her hair. Alex could feel his body shaking next to her and could hear his quiet sobs as she drifted back off to sleep. She knew things would never be the same between them again, and she was right.
Chapter 13
Finding Her Totem
After the confrontation with Quin, things continued to decline for Alex. The tension in the household was high, and Richard began to pull away from her. But it wasn't until her seventeenth birthday a few months later that the road of life would take a dark turn and put her straight on the path to redemption. For at this age, every pure-blooded mage was forced to go into the woods and discover their totem, an animal who would bestow its magical powers upon them.
Alex didn't know why seventeen was the age they were forced to find their totem, but this was one tradition she could not argue with. All she hoped for was that her totem would not be something laughable. Although, knowing her luck, she would end up being a snalygag, a small snail-like animal, or something equally pathetic. Alex could just picture the look on Quinton's face if she turned out to be something his totem could pick on. She dreaded the possibility of his chimera chasing her around the courtyard and devouring her whole.
So many thoughts swirled in Alex’s head as she sat at her table scrunching her nose at the silver goblet of bubbling green ooze. Taking a deep breath of the pungent aroma she gagged at the smell. Alexandra reckoned it would taste even worse than it smelled as a giant green bubble burst and splashed her face. But it’s not like she had any other choice, so, with a deep breath, Alex picked up the goblet and brought it to her lips. Choking down the thick, slimy potion, she tried her hardest not to get sick all over the floor as the swampy taste assaulted her taste buds.
The sickening feeling did not last long, however, and Alex sat at her desk wondering when it would take its effect. She did not have to wait long though. Soon the room began to spin. Paralyzed, her body hit the floor hard. Unable to move, Alex lay there by her desk, staring up at the ceiling as her vision blurred. Feeling her body grow light she gave way to the potion and slipped into the dark realm of shadows.
When Alex regained conscience, she felt cold and wet. The fallen leaves crunched under her as she shifted her weight. Something moist was pressing up against her cheek. She could hear what she thought was whimpering in her ear. Alex forced her eyes open, and through blurred vision, she could see a pair of amber eyes staring right at her. Much to her shock, a white wolf lay on the ground next to her.
Sitting up, Alex rubbed her eyes to make sure she was not hallucinating as she looked at the magnificent creature in front of her. Its pale coat appeared almost surreal in the silver light of the moon. The wolf sat up and tilted its head to look at Alex. Leaning in, it pressed its cold nose against her and without warning, it gave Alexandra a lick, making her giggle. Just to be sure she was not imagining this, Alex stretched out an arm and touched the wolf's head. The beast’s fur felt soft and warm, there was no mistaking it, the animal was real.
Alex sat there, looking at the wolf in front of her and wondered what was happening to her. Only a few hours ago if you were to tell her wolves still existed, she would have said it was impossible. Yet, here she was, looking right at one, a creature which was supposed to be wiped out ages ago.
Paying her no attention, the wolf stretched out a paw and placed the rough pad on the back of Alexandra’s hand. Alex felt a strange surge of power flood through her as her soul ignited in cerulean flames. When the fire and the strange feeling subsided, she found herself sitting on the leaves covered in white fur.
Impossible, she thought. Alex had only heard the legend
once, but she recalled it instantly. Before the great war, a God told the pure-blood mages magic world cease to exist if they did not preserve their bloodlines. The same God told them the wolves had to die, for only a mage with the totem of a wolf could stop them. Realizing what this meant, a panicked Alex looked up at the wolf in front of her.
“But, why... why me?”
The wolf sat there and looked at Alexandra, not blinking. It tilted its head at her a few more times before it spoke.
“Tell me, child, do you know what the wolf stands for?”
Alex shook her head. She had no idea what the wolf symbolized. All she knew was that they were said to walk the universe beside the Gods, or even be Gods themselves.
“For one,” the beast broke the silence, “we stand for immense power, loyalty, and compassion. But I take it you never heard the legend of the wolves as your people once told it?”
“I'm afraid not.”
“It's all right my child, follow me, I shall explain everything.”
The wolf turned and walked. Getting up from her spot, Alex followed behind it. They tiptoed through the forest underbrush, keeping their heads low, so they wouldn’t be spotted. When they reached a cliff overlooking the forest, the wolf sat down. Alex came over and sat down next to it, looking over the magnificent view. Beside her, the wolf lifted its head up as if to study the night sky. Following its gaze, Alex realized it was looking at Sirius.
“Us wolves are faithful companions to the Gods. The god of life and the goddess of death both hold the power of the wolf, and they were the ones that created us. Which is why they placed wolves in each world as life sprang up in the universe, so we would always keep the cycle of life and death going.” Pausing, the beast looked over at Alex. “I was one of the wolves placed here, and I have looked over the people of Alteria for millennia. Believe it or not,” the wolf sighed, “this once was a beautiful and prosperous place.”
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