Chapter 21 Pain
How does one describe pain? People often claim emotional pain was the worst—maybe it was. But at that moment, as the whip struck Evie’s back repeatedly, taking with it each time a little piece of her flesh, she understood something different. There was a kind of suffering that silenced all other comparisons—a pain that tore through the body and surged straight into the mind. It was the kind that stripped one of sanity. In that instant, she knew that no one could define pain until they experienced extreme physical suffering.
“Twenty five… Twenty six… Twenty seven…” a priest counted aloud as each stroke of the cane landed on her back. Her piercing cries had slowly softened into a barely audible murmur. She was weak, almost at the point of death. She wanted the pain to stop; she wanted her punishment to finally come to an end, but there were still many strokes she needed to endure before it would be all over. She doubted if she would make it, as she could literally feel her soul slipping from her body.
After the 35th stroke, Lord Tristan held his whip down, sighing in worry. He knew, deep within himself, that Evie would die if he continued any further. The girl’s deceit may have caused the death of the sacrificial beast, but she hadn’t killed it with her own hands.
“Why have you stopped, my lord?” asked the priest who had been counting.
“Her punishment is over.” He dropped the whip to the floor, much to everyone’s surprise.
“But My lord, it is the rule that all such punishments must reach one hundred strokes!”
“And I declare her punishment to be over!!” he yelled, furrowing his brows in anger. “She’s almost at the point of death. Get her water to drink and set her free.” He ordered, then walked out of the courtyard, wiping his bloodstained face and hands with a towel. As a Lord, he had full authority to make such decisions, as long as the High Priest was not present.
As the priest ran off to fetch water and the ropes binding Evie to the tree were being worked loose, she turned her face to the side, opening her eyes weakly as her body clung to the trunk. She met the tear-filled gazes of those she knew; some could not bear the gruesome sight and turned away. As her vision drifted further, she met the eyes of Levi, who stood among the crowd staring back at her, but whose eyes carried no emotion or facial expression. She was totally unreadable at that moment, but then, that was how the girl had always been—strange and indifferent.
To Evie’s surprise, Levi’s lips slowly curved into a smile. It was the most devilish smile she had ever seen, wicked and utterly evil. Levi let her eyes drift downward, then raised them again, a faint smile still on her lips. She turned her back to her, majestically walking out of the crowd. Evie did not realize when a tear slipped from her eye. All she wanted in that moment was to squeeze the living daylights out of the heartless girl, but she was in no condition to do so.
At last, the ropes were loosened, and she collapsed into the arms of the priest, her consciousness slowly slipping away. Through the haze, she heard a familiar voice crying nearby and forced her eyes open to see Griselda assisting the priest as they laid her gently onto a stretcher, her back in a terrible state. The woman shouted at him to help carry the wounded girl to her own quarters so she could tend to her wounds properly. Tears and fear filled her eyes as she spoke, but Evie watched her for a moment longer, comforted by the presence of the woman she considered a mother, before finally losing consciousness and slumping fully into their arms.
At last, she was free, and her punishment had been cut short—something, at least, to be grateful for. Now, all that remained was the hope that she would awaken from the darkness she had fallen into, and that it would not prove to be a one-way passage to the land of the dead.
The two priests who were assigned to take Levi to the prison yard noticed her absence only after a few minutes. She was supposed to be standing between them but had suddenly disappeared. The one who teased Levi earlier signaled for the other to stay behind while he took care of the girl himself. He ran past the small crowd and out of the courtyard, but he still couldn’t find the girl.
He sighed in frustration. What if the High Priest found her before him? How would he explain that he let a prisoner roam around the mountains? It suddenly clicked for him as he remembered the kind of girl Levi was. She was famous for doing the complete opposite of what people had in mind. He chuckled to himself and headed for the prison yard instead.
Lo and behold, he found Levi in one of the prison cells, sitting alone and lost in her world. He walked toward the cell in amusement, staring at her through the lined-up wooden barriers which separated each cell from the other. The wooden door was closed but not locked; he was quite sure that if the girl had the keys to the door, she would have locked it herself.
“Strange girl,” he teased, earning a glare from Levi. He left the prison yard and soon returned after a few seconds with a container. He opened the door to the cell and sat down by Levi’s side.
“I walked myself into this prison cell for a reason,” Levi said with a frown. “I want to be alone. So get out!"
“Well, I would have… gladly, but you’re bleeding badly,” he said, opening the medicine container. “It would only lead to serious infection and possibly… death. Unless that’s what you’re aiming for.”
Levi didn’t reply but rested her head on the wall and closed her eyes instead, sighing deeply. She didn’t have the strength to argue with the priest; he would only take it as a means to frustrate her further.
“Can you… roll up your sleeves?” he asked, looking at her wounded arm.
Levi stared at him for a second with a questioning look. How could she roll up her long sleeves? That would only lead to more severe pain.
The priest was taken aback as Levi loosened the fastening at the front of her tunic and drew it down to her waist, exposing her body as she carefully slipped her arms from the sleeves. Her wounded arm gave her some difficulty, but she pulled it free at once, wincing in pain. A sense of relief washed over her as she was finally freed from the tight leather, and she lifted her gaze to meet the traumatized priest’s eyes, silently urging him to begin the treatment.