Jenn smiled warmly as Eradric walked past toward the stairs. The old man had been like a father to her for some time now, which was nice enough. More than that, though, he was unquestioningly loyal and always willing to take that extra step or three. He had moved back into the manor house some days prior, unwilling to leave Jenn unprotected whilst their guests remained on the premises.
Ah, the guests. The third had been brought in tonight. Rab and Seaver had worked together to bring the brute of a man to the dungeon. Jenn had spent the past few days telling Blodwynn that she still had hope, that her man would come to save her, to save them all. The look on the girls face when the unconscious form of her lover had been dumped at her feet had been priceless!
True, Jenn did not really have anything against either of them, nor even Davick. None of the three had done her or her family any harm, but that was irrelevant. Each of them were friends of Ilaru, each of them had, or would have, sheltered the skinny little murderer, and each of them was a valuable playing piece upon this board.
The three downstairs were not a problem anymore. Each had been captured and contained. They were helpless to assist themselves, nevermind each other or the girl wandering free and alone. They could be safely ignored for now; starved and deprived of liquid for a few days at a time, left with no light and only the stale air of the windowless cellar.
People put so much stock and faith in the physical aspect of torture. Few stopped to consider the fact that flesh wounds healed within a few weeks and that the body could become accustomed to pain. Granted, it was a much swifter method to break someone but they could never become truly broken that way. There would always be that little seed within their minds, that little spark to remind them of what they once were, and given the right prompts that seed could grow into bloom again. Breaking a mind itelf though, that took a lot more creativity than the simple brutal wielding of a knife.
In truth, it hardly mattered for that trio. They would all be dead by the time Jenn was finished with their little friend. Of course, they were not yet aware of that truth, still believing that there was a way out for them. Hope was such a wonderful thing, so bright and shining and fragile, and hope was all they had. That was why she had installed them all in the same cell; to let them convince each other that everything would be alright. That would make it all the more amusing when their dreams of seeing the bright sky once more were taken from them.
The problem, for the moment, was Seaver. She had seen some doubt in him - pity and regret as he looked at Blodwynn - and he had later shown some reluctance when speaking of beating someone for a late payment. A conscience was a terrible thing to have and it seemed he was developing one. It twisted the mind, made a person think twice and could open the door for a change of heart. What sort of life was that to lead; bound and dictated to by the dubious morals of an ultimately hypocritical society? He would have to be cured of this awakening disease of the mind, or else erased from the equation.
She was jolted out her thoughts by taps at the window. She rose from her chair, crossing the wide main hall to let the bird in. It was time once again to commence the battle of wills with the feathered beast.
