III

Ronn was crouching inside the tower, it had been harder than expected to climb without anyone seeing him; by mid-afternoon, the whole place was crowded with people in the most varied outfits and appearances, the sun was before him, so his body was hidden under the shadow of the sloping roof.

His arms were sore from the exertion, he thought about lying down to rest, then people began to euphorically shout; Sêlkior Rurik was passing through the space-giving crowd, he was almost a head taller than most people around, with jet-black hair and full eyelashes, a short beard darkened his face, and his eyes were electric blue.

He wasn't muscular, his back leaned forward as an old man's would, and he limped lightly from one of his legs, and he was dressed in formal clothes and an expensive red leather coat over his shoulders. The man didn't seem excited about the ceremony, instead, looked anxiously at the crowd, a shiver ran down his spine.

Katarine entered after, with her parents beside her, her mother carrying the torch and her father, the sword. She was beautiful in her dress, a wreath of coloured flowers adorned her pale hair, Ronn sighed regrettably, it wouldn't take long now.

The priest began the ceremony, the sky was in a beautiful gradient, the bridegroom drew his sword and the torch was lit, Ronn could not hear well from where he was, but he heard the rage and saw the expressions of the crowd when the fire began to burn black and the sword aged before everyone's eyes.

Katarine was the first to scream, then other women were shouting as well, the men drew away in horror, the priest himself had gone paler than everyone else, then Katarine's dress began to stain red on the shoulders and torso she cried out more and more, her parents ran for her while everyone else was walking away, someone shouted that the marriage was cursed, several people fled the place, believing it to be some punishment of the gods.

Ronn watched everything, trying to remain indifferent, his plan worked, so why wasn't he happy? Guilt whirred in his being, the hatred was gone, he had avenged himself, but he was not satisfied, he had not felt the relief of getting rid of something uncomfortable, but in spite of everything, he remained attentive.

The swordsmen rushed to help the fainted bride, he knew that in time, perhaps someone would realize that it had been sabotage and not divine punishment, but he doubted it would happen that day. He frowned, everyone was exasperated, fearful, panicked, all except one single person, who stood unmoved by the chaos unleashed there: Sêlkior Rurik.

Instead, he seemed almost satisfied, there wasn't even a frown on his face, in fact, he seemed to restrain himself from laughing. Ronn had seen people laughing in despair and panic or embarrassment, but that was definitely not the case.

There was something wrong with that man. Ronn was about to get down from the tower, took one last look at what he had done, and instantly froze in place, Sêlkior Rurik was looking directly at him with a smile on his lips. Ronn slipped on the snow on the roof and was thrown to the wall, before falling with a thud on the floor, plucking the air from his lungs as his body seemed to be pierced by a thousand needles and his sight darkened.

...

His head was heavy and the sounds seemed distant when he realized that he had somehow fainted. He slowly opened his eyes, his blurry sight lingered before becoming clear again, but when it did and when he understood the situation around him, he gasped in panic.

His arms were tied on a small pole, he was kneeling in the mud, in what seemed to be the centre of the square, the people around him roared in fury, being stopped by black swordsmen, stopped from killing him.

His heart hammered in his ribs, his breath was shallow, WHAT HAPPENED WHILE I WAS UNCONSCIOUS? He tried to remember something, but all he remembered was the fall and electric blue eyes above him.

He looked ahead, Sêlkior Rurik was clearly amused, looking at him in silence, Katarine's father stood on one side, his own father on the other, they both looked at him as if they were about to kill him.

He didn't know what had happened, but he knew that somehow, he had been taken because of Sêlkior Rurik, he didn't understand why they hadn't killed him yet. Maybe they wanted him to be awake, so they could see him suffer.

"Are you sure, Sêlkior Rurik? Wouldn't you rather he be killed?" His father had spoken, red with fury. There was no doubt he would strangle Ronn with his own hands if he could.

"He is going to have a fate worse than death for the crimes he committed" the man's voice resembled a tear so hoarse and thick it was.

Up close, Ronn realized, still confused by the fall, that his skin, before a sickly pale one, now seemed to have been exposed to the sun.

Ronn looked up at the sky, dusk had barely begun, he hadn't been passed out for long, then how ...? His eyes widened suddenly, understanding his fate, the greatest authority in the city at the time was Sêlkior Rurik, for being a Lord, so he would decide what to do with Ronn. His life was over.

"Bring me the mead" Sêlkior Rurik roared.

The same mead barrels that he had sabotaged were in front of him, someone gripped his hair hard enough to make him scream and as soon as he did, a large piece of hollow wood was put into his mouth, forcing it painfully open. He tried to struggle and realized that no matter what he did, it would be useless, probably everyone there wanted to see him dead, he had to spare his strength.

They began to pour the liquid into his mouth, it passed through the hollow of the wood, immediately down his throat, the ink had thinned out as he had imagined, despite the strong sweet scent, a bitter taste choked him, choked several times. He almost fainted for the lack of air, but at that moment, Sêlkior Rurik always made them stop, only to continue later, the crowd shouted for him to be stoned, shouted for him to be killed.

Ronn started vomiting, he was bathed in mead, purple stained his whole body.

The process repeated itself several times and seemed to have taken forever. Ronn had vomited and fainted dozens of times, his lungs burned and his throat was like live embers, he was breathing hard, his body weighed with fermented alcohol, he felt sick.

When the last barrel was emptied, they put a whip in the hands of Sêlkior Rurik, with small pieces of metal in the middle of the braided ropes. Ronn thought vaguely that they would turn his back to whip him, when the first blow struck his stomach, tearing his clothes, while blood stained the already dried purple with a rich red.

Die, die, die, just die, now! The words echoed in his mind the whole time he was whipped, when stones were thrown at him, when they marked the skin behind his shoulders with the red-hot iron, so that he could feel the word "cursed" on his body.

And as much as Ronn had wanted to die, he remained awake and lucid, when he fainted, they tried to wake him up again.

When the worst torture of his life had finally ended, his arms had been tied to a wooden log on his shoulders, his left wrist had been dislocated with the brutality of the movements, they had done the same with his feet and then threw him upside down on a horse. He fainted shortly afterwards, from the blood pressure on his head.

When he woke up, he saw a light in front of him and smiled relieved, he had finally died. He vomited after a blow to the stomach and fell to the side, the log over his shoulders pushed his face to the ground, smelled of rot over the mead and his own blood.

A laugh of derision, footsteps drifted away, everything went dark, but Ronn had not fainted this time, wherever he was, there was no light source.

Footsteps approached with a torch in his hands. Sergei Rurik, with fire lighting his face, looked bigger, as if muscles suddenly filled his clothes, the distinct sounds of footsteps, meant he longer limped as well. He bent down and brought the torch closer to Ronn, to see his face and smiled at him, his canines were larger than he had ever seen in a man, Ronn mused.

"Do you want to know the name.... of the man who stained your honourable name?" Ronn's voice came out ripped, hoarse and with every word he felt the blood going down his throat.

He wasn't very sure what he was talking about, he was drunk and had lost too much blood because of the whipping.

"Katarine told me, Ronn." He was silent for a while, he knew Ronn was aware of exactly what he meant by that one sentence. His voice was no longer a tear, it seemed more like the rumble of thunder.

Ronn would have sobbed with hatred and lamented the words, Katarine was the only person besides his sister and his father, who knew his name, Elsea affectionately called him brother, he had never heard his name spoken by someone else, he would die as Ronn. Anguish corroded him.

"As soon as I saw you on that roof, in the midst of all that chaos ..." He laughed outright, the sound for some reason hurt his ears. "They wish to see you burned alive, I didn't allow it, I am grateful for your deeds."

Ronn frowned, this strange man who made him shiver and had just tortured him (though rightly so) was the first person in all his miserable life to be grateful to him for something.

Ronn had ruined his marriage. Why the hell would he thank him?

"Because of all the people who made a point of accompanying me to this stupid ceremony, I could not feed myself for weeks, I was weak and vulnerable, I had no ability to feed myself, but thanks to you and the panic that you caused in a genial and childish way, I was able to regain my strength, enough."

He gave him heavy lids on his torn back, reverberating pain all over his body, Ronn for a few seconds heard screams of pain and despair, his cries, he realized, the skin where Rurik touched him, burned like poison. He would have gasped if his vision had not dimmed gradually and his senses had not dulled.

"I have decided not to kill you as a form of gratitude, although we both know you will not be able to survive here, mead and blood will most likely attract bears or wolves, or so many hungry creatures that can smell you." The man got up.

"Have a good death, Shiderik."

The darkness finally seized his mind.

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