Annie's eyes followed the sound up to the ceiling, but the only visible thing of the heavy iron mass now were the sharp pikes protruding like tiny needles from the slit high above. In her current mood the gate had sounded like the low-pitched chime of a mourning bell to her, an inexorable announcement that the days of her freedom had come to an end. She wished that it would come crashing down, smashing them all together to bloody pieces, better yet those bothersome henchmen who had given her all that recent trouble.
The guards which had barred the way now stepped back and waved the visitors to go forward into the citadel. Scarface waited for some moments to let the gathered people surge forward and over the bridge beyond before he signified his comrades that it was their turn too.
A sharp call and the sudden tug on the leash prodded her forward and out of her musing. Her recollection of the previous events had come to an end and the here and now unfolded before her eyes like a newly weaved pattern. She had never been arrested or bereft of her freedom before and marched like an infamous criminal towards imprisoning or something even worse. Right now she could only see the narrow path of hardship lying before her, but there must be some way to escape that cruel fate. She had to wait and see and use her wits to survive and get the better of her captors. Although the humiliating treatment fuelled her anger and left an acrimonious feeling in her heart she thought about the benefits of subservience and how she could use it to better her situation. Yet she couldn't picture to her how she should soft-soap such disgusting guys like Slaphead or Stinker.
The passage through the doorway came to an end and opened into a stone bridge traversing the gorge in front of the citadel. The first part was built like a drawbridge with heavy chains on both sides to raise it up and cut off the way into the heart of the fortress. Now it was lowered down and resting solidly on sturdy stone groundings. Looking through the cracks between the wooden planks she could see deep into the chasm below. The sight gave her a dizzy feeling and she was glad when they reached the other side of the bridge.
The following walk through the citadel left her soon disorientated. Different buildings on top of the mountain were nestled into each other without any clear concept or composition. After passing the entry tower a steep ramp went zigzag up to another fortified wall. They passed under different watchtowers on their way up until Scarface left the main road and ushered them through a small passageway away from the more formal and prestigious parts of the citadel.
During their following walk they crossed several courtyards merging roughly into each other. The first one seemed to be used for the cavalry with a lot of stables circumventing it. The stench of the horses and their manure was overwhelming. After that, they passed different storehouses, a smithy where weapons and different tools were forged and a laundry. There were already a lot of people at work, bustling around in doing different business. Although she could hear an occasional laughter or people talking idly with each other, there seemed to be an air of oppression present which dampened the mood noticeably. She couldn't tell exactly what caused this atmosphere, was it either the suppressing tightness of the walls and buildings huddled together or the frown and fraught air on the faces of the occupants.
At least they reached a narrow courtyard almost at the rocky base of the donjon, which rose high up in the sky above them. Most of the square lay in the shadows of the thick outer walls which surrounded it on two sides. The last side was built by a cubic building which seemed to merge with the rough cliff behind it. Its unplastered wall had the same colour and texture as the natural stone behind it. The broad base was mere stone with no windows at all and only one entrance in the shape of an archway, which was broad enough to let a cart or a carriage through. The way was barred by a latticed iron grate, which looked to be closed and locked up. Separated from the base by a broad landing the upper stories showed rows of small vents in the stone wall. Maybe that had been used as arrow slits or for other ways of defending long ago, but now they were cross-barred with rusty iron gratings indicating that the purpose of the rooms behind had changed.
A rough stage with a sturdy gallows dominated the square in front of the building. A hempen rope, forming a crude leash dangled from the rafter and there were other instruments of execution assembled in its shadow. Gaping with awe at the cruel instruments she recognized a broad wooden block, a wheel for quartering and a pillory. Would she have to walk at this stage as a condemned delinquent, to die in pain and agony? She was so occupied with her terrifying thoughts that she didn't recognize the commotion building up at the entrance to the building.
Only when the iron grate had opened fully she turned her head to recognize a big wooden cart drawn by several sturdy black draft horses coming out of the doorway. The platform behind the driver seat was occupied by a huge iron cage. The thick iron bands overlapped so close together that she was at first unable to see between them or identify, what was inside the cage. When the cart headed towards them and the big wooden wheels rumbled directly in front of them past her, she gasped in disbelief.
The cargo was human and consisted of people seated on several rows of low wooden benches. Yet, each of them wore heavy chains, manacling hands and feet together, which clinked with a tingling sound due to the jolts from the rumbling wheels. Every one of the prisoners inside the cage wore a broad iron band around his neck, which was connected by further chains to their neighbours fettering them in one single row together at each bench. The look of misery and despair on the faces made her cringe with pity for this wretched and doomed looking creatures. Most of them were naked or only clad in rags. There were more men than women, but the females were treated and chained up the same way as the males. While some of them groaned or sighed most of them stared with dull eyes impassively to the ground.
"Oh my god!" Annie breathed almost overcome by the feeling of dread and despair which emanated from the cart like a dark encasing cloud, "What have they done? What will happen to them?"
"Don't mind about them. Their fate is sealed." Slaphead murmured and spat out into the gutter when the guards on horseback following behind the cart had passed by.
"Why? Where are they taken?" she asked him while she watched the cart leaving the courtyard.
"To the salt mines up in the north. They always need fresh meat there. Although most of them will not survive for more than half a year." Scarface stated. When he noted her frightful look he continued on, "Don't worry, that's only for scum and rabble. For pretty whores like you, we have another use."
"And what should that be?" she asked him knitting her brows.
"We'll keep you for our pleasure." he laughed,"and once we're tired of your service, you'll be sold at the slave pits of Harum or Ga'rr. Big tits always fetch a good price there."
