Claudia took a deep breath and started her tale.
“My father is the apothecary in the village to the west and after discovering that I had some magic in me, he waited until I was old enough and sent me to learn how to use it.”
Dmitri interrupted, “Who did he send you to?”
“There are enclaves of druids throughout France. I studied amongst the towering monoliths that had been erected millennia ago. The druids taught me the rudimentary skills required to use my magic, but so small was my ability that I was unable to do much of what they taught. As my training was coming to an end, the man who had been my mentor showed me spirit linking and for a time we were together.” She stopped, blushing as a memory of that time came to her. She cleared her throat and continued, “Eventually, it was time for me to leave. It was with sorrow that I left them, but the rest of my life called. I couldn’t stay there with them when I had such a small fraction of that magic that they wielded from day to day. I returned home and went to work with my father. I learnt of herbs and potions and he taught me of his passion of alchemy which was not something that neither he nor I had the ability to do; he nevertheless had high hopes that someday I could perform transmutations. While he taught me, some of the men my age had begun to start visiting the shop quite regularly; I soon found out that they were coming specifically to see me. For the last time I’d seen them, I wasn’t the woman I had become while I was away. Another thing that had happened during my absence was the arrival of an English Lord. The man we know as Draycott had arrived and taken control of a nearby bastion town and was causing trouble. One day a raiding party came and attacked the village. I was among the women taken. It was guardsman Wayte himself that pulled me from the frail arms of my father. My struggles were brief as he threatened my father, who was too old to survive any ill treatment at the hands of these English raiders.” Claudia closed her eyes, choking back on emotion. Dmitri put his arms around her and soothed her.
“Thank you,” she said and straightened herself up and continued, “I’d seen the frenzy in Wayte’s eyes and known what he could have done, but when we reached this very castle, I saw him again. Gone was the madness in his eyes, he now wore a haunted look. Several times he tried to free some of the women, but circumstances and other guards made the task too difficult for him. So he did what he could to make the situation comfortable for all the women. We were all locked in cells and from time to time one of us was dragged out to entertain Draycott. I dreaded the day that it would be my turn.
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The women that did return would often huddle in corners muttering to themselves. When it got too much, a guard would come, usually Birkett as he enjoyed it the most, and escort the women away. We had no doubt that what happened then was just as unpleasant as spending time with Draycott. No women came back after Birkett took them. And that was only the women that managed to return from Draycott. What evils were in store for those that didn’t come back at all we don’t know. We could only imagine. Towards the end of my time there, some of the women were awaiting their turn eagerly, if only to put it all behind them, to be put out of their misery. When my time did come, I put on a brave face and went where the guards directed. I ascended high into the castle where the rooms were more and more opulent. I was pushed into a room where a gown lay on the bed. I was told to change into it and present myself to Draycott in the adjoining room. After they closed the door behind me, I looked around the room for a means of escape. But the windows were barred and when I peeked out of the door, a guard stuck his head in front of me and asked what I needed. I backed into the room and started to put the gown on, resolving to find a way out of there.” She stopped talking.
Dmitri took her the clay pitcher of water that was left from the earlier meal and she drank deeply. She choked in fright as the door opened and Wayte entered once more carrying a tray. Dmitri frowned and looked at the window. The light streaming through was no longer the golden light of daylight, but more the orange of dusk; they’d spent all afternoon talking! He turned back to Wayte and saw that the food that they were being brought was actually quality food, not something that would normally be served to prisoners. He spoke up, “Trying to absolve your guilt?”
A pained expression passed over Wayte’s face and he turned to Dmitri stonily, “I was ordered to bring you food of this quality, the Lord believes you to be important.”
“Oh,” Dmitri said abashed. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to upset you. Can you stay for a moment? Maybe you could tell us about yourself?” he asked by way of apology.