Just as he was about to release his tension deep into the girl, the large door swung open. A nobleman was hit square in the chest by a musket’s bullet, followed by the screams of those who stood closest to him. Bertrand rushed into the big hall, followed by a mob formed out of the people from the nearby village. A hatchet flashed thought the air and hit a woman in the neck, cleaving head from body. A terror flooded the room as more bodies spilled their blood onto the wooden floor. Most being too drunk to resist, just screamed in fear, trying to make their way to a door. Lady Verona could see how a half-naked man tripped and then was trampled by fellow guests trying to flee. The small doors leading out formed a bottleneck for the crowd, giving their pursuers the opportunity to reach them. Just before she made her way through the door, Lady Verona looked back to see her husband being hit in the neck by a musket’s charge. Blood spilled from the wound as he sank on his knees, one hand pressing on the gap, the other raised in fain for help. Pushed by the people behind her, she ran into the corridors, away from the bloodied scene. Only a few steps till she reached the door leading out and to a possible escape into the fields, then an arm got hold of her. When she turned to look at her attacker, she saw the pastor holding her tight with one hand. In the other he held a large wooden cross, decorated with an image of the savior who died for all sins. “You’re not going anywhere bitch!” Behind her Lady Verona could hear the massacre reaching its final conclusion. As she watched to where the sounds came from she could see Bertrand turning the corner, carrying the head of her husband with him. The look of anger and fear still displayed on his face, betrayed how he lived his final moments. “The ones who fled will soon be caught and share his fate my lady” Bertrand threw the head at her feet. “You on the other hand will be burned at the stake.” Pushing past both Elizabeth and the holy man holding her, the old giant opened the door letting the sun’s rays flood in. The warm glow made contact with her eyes, blinding them for a moment. As she adapted to the bright flow, she could see the pyre being built in the courtyard.
Totally spend the white flower laid on a bed made of straw covered with blankets. Her once smooth skin was now dotted with bruises and wells. Marius pressed a wet cloth on her chest, carefully trying to clean the sticky mixture. A soft sigh of relieve gurgled in her throat as the cool fabric made contact. All signs shown they had pushed her to every limit they could find, breaking it as they encountered one. A tear rolled down her cheek, muffled sobs could be heard. “It’s all over now, you are save here.” His soothing voice echoed from the bare basement walls. Sensing his genuine compassion, the girl let go of her grieve. The sobs became screams, the single tear a river. Though her broken body ached with every release, she could not stop. All Marius could do was to hold her, lending his strength as support. A long time they sat like that, till well after the silence had returned. As many times before he tried to tend to all who fell victim to his lord and lady’s lust. Some had been members of the staff, others just random strangers, but all where young and beautiful of visage. After every party he had taken them to the same cabin, making the arrangements for their leave abroad. A small pouch filled with gold lay beside him, the usual compensation he gave every time.
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