Barbaria watched Vulcan depart with some pleasure. She’d hated the way he’d looked at her, and she’d known she was in for more abuse from him. But now she was alone with just her fellow victims for company, and the faceless black monks.
There wasn’t much positive to take from this foul experience, but at least she had been crucified in the privacy of the courtyard of a remote castle, and there was no-one to witness her crucifixion and humiliation who might know her, except for those in the same situation as herself.
Barely had the thought crossed her tortured mind when one of the monks shouted ‘All Hail Queen Barbaria!” He knelt before her in mock obeisance. A voice she knew, and hated – Prince Naraku! The hands he held out towards her were covered in blood.
“It was a real pleasure to nail you to your cross, Your
Majesty!” He looked at his bloodied hands. “I’m not sure I’ll ever wash these again! I can die happy now I’ve seen you on a cross! With a bit of luck I can get that upstart brother of mine onto one too! Talking of Shevak….” He stuck his long tongue out at Barbaria, “my tongue’s as long as his, longer, in fact, and so are other parts of my anatomy! Would you like me to distract you from your pain?”
“Piss…off….Naraku.” Barbaria knew she would not like it. She also knew she was in no position to stop him doing what he liked. There was no love lost between Barbaria and Naraku, and certainly none between Shevak and Naraku. Naraku had spent his whole life resenting the fact that he was just a year younger than Shevak, and had then spent the last few years blaming Barbaria and Shevak for the death of his father, Sciuridan, at the Battle of Ystragarth.
Now the other twenty or so monks were gathering around, and they, like Naraku, were removing their hoods. Barbaria turned her head away in humiliation and embarrassment. Every last one of them was from Heidraen. She could name them all. The mayor and mayoress, various guildsmen and councillors, people who she’d helped, people whose problems and perceived injustices she’d helped to solve. Even the housekeeper from Heidraen Castle was there – she who had stood weeping before Barbaria not two days ago, begging leave to attend the funeral of her sister in Solithage! The lying cow had come straight up here with Vulcan to prepare for the crucifixion of her mistress!
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Barbaria wanted to vomit.
“What…..have I done……to any….of you? What have….I done….to deserve…..this?”
“Simple,” smirked Naraku. “You picked the losing side! He waved in the direction of Aestria. “Soon the whole land will be mine. Vulcan is attacking Heidraen this very morning, Shevak and Pilus will soon be dead, and I don’t think Cordelia will last long on her cross. As for you - you, your majesty, will be a tourist attraction. We plan to run trips up here so that people can admire your crucified body during the year before your death!”
Barbaria groaned, overcome by agony, humiliation, and despair. She could see no hope, and hung there, mocked by her own subjects, and looked into a future of suffering without even the hope of death to end it.
The housekeeper moved off and stood before Elise, while the others taunted the princesses and the priestess. She had always been fond of Elise, who had always been hardworking and willing and certainly had no enemies in the Royal household. She had tears in her eyes. She could not bear to see Elise suffering like this. Elise was still whimpering with every movement, hanging from vicious spikes via a dislocated shoulder. The housekeeper called her husband, who was the head gardener at the Castle in Heidraen. “Arby! Come here!”
He broke off from telling Princess Blaire how the cross made her tits look nice, revelling in the opportunity to make fun of those who he’d previously had to treat with abject deference, and came over to his wife.
“Poor Elise!” she said, “It’s a shame to see her suffer so! She’s not one of them, she’s one of us!”
“A bit too fond of Princess Cordelia to be spared,” he commented.
“Nevertheless, t’isnt right. She’s dislocated her shoulder, too, poor lamb. Can’t you get her down?”
“If Prince Naraku didn’t strike me dead, then Lord Vulcan will! It’s more than my life’s worth!”
“What are you two up to?” Prince Naraku had come up behind them, unseen.
Arby bowed, and his wife curtsied. “If it please your ‘ighness, we was just saying that Elise isn’t really one of them,” he waved at the other crosses, “we was wondering if anything could be done, you know, to ‘elp her?”
Naraku leaned close to Arby, “She had the same opportunity that you did,” he hissed, “she picked her side, and now she reaps her reward! And if you don’t like it, I can easily prepare more crosses!” He turned around and grabbed Elise’s breast, twisting it savagely. She bellowed in agony. “Now you wish you’d listened to me, bitch! Well, it’s far, far too late to change your mind!”
He turned back to Arby. “Don’t worry, I am a fair man! I’ll be crucifying anyone else who is disloyal to me, too! It worked for King Jedakk in the past, it worked for my father, and it’ll work for me!”
They have all the morals of alley cats
She was supposed to marry Shevak but they didn't hit it off
