Morgana's Handmaid and the Creature of the Dungeon Page 3

  The list of accusations against me seemed to become embellished and expanded the longer he spoke! Merlin remained unamused though, even as the rest of the panel of nobles reacted with open disdain toward me.

  “Over and above this, she hath blasphemously renounced that faith which is ours by the Sacrament of Baptism,” said the bishop, now pointing at me, “and at the instigation of the Enemy of Mankind she doth not shrink from committing and perpetrating the foulest abominations and filthiest excesses to the deadly peril of her own soul, whereby she doth outrage the Divine Majesty and is a cause of scandal and danger to many!”

  My heart sank when he added that last part. I could already see how this matter was completely out of Arthur’s control. I was on my own now.

  “Therefore we, as is our duty, being wholly desirous of removing all hindrances and obstacles by which the good work of the inquisition may be let and tarded, decree and enjoin that these inquisitors be empowered to proceed to the just correction, imprisonment, and punishment of the defendant, without let or hindrance…by all means necessary.”

  By then my whole body was numb, as I dreaded what they might do to me next.

  “REMOVE THE PRISONER’S CLOTHING!” was the first command he bellowed across the courtroom—and I must say my two former friends—those two guards from the barracks—were more than happy to comply. Within moments, I was stripped naked before the king and his council of knights and clergymen, to be inspected thoroughly by two rather disgusting clerics to see if I had any mark of the devil on my body.

  The procedure was to first remove my clothing because of the belief that my clothes themselves might contain some means of witchcraft sewn into the materials. Some even believed that a witch’s clothing was made from the skins of un-baptized infants! The bishop then gave the order for the examination to begin.

  “INQUISITORS…PROCEED!” ordered the bishop coldly. I cowered in terror, standing naked before the two hideous monks approaching me. A mole, a birthmark, or even a blemish would have brought immediate conviction. A freckle, a pimple, anything would do. That’s all they really needed to find and the “trial” would be over with. I’d be declared a witch and dragged out to be executed; simple as that. This I already knew and braced myself for the worst.

  The two perverts perused my naked body up and down, spreading my legs, pinching open my bottom, and lifting each of my breasts with greasy, ice-cold hands, causing me to gasp and yelp with disgust at their lewdness. The guards snickered, as they next bent me over and spread my legs to examine my private area. I was both ashamed and enraged all at the same time.

  They ran their fingers up and down my inner thighs and muttered things to each other in Latin as they poked and prodded me. Yet I needed no translation. Their faces were so close, I could even feel the swine breathing on me and snorting or snarling with lascivious delight. It was almost more than I could bear. I swore if those detestable fiends touched my vagina I would scream bloody murder!

  Well, needless to say they did. That and much more! And as for me I uttered little more than a gasp in response. I should have…should have yelled at them to stop their offensive probing of my crotch and chastise them vehemently to leave me be. Only I stood there, helpless, and simply let them continue with their degrading manipulations.

  I was so terribly afraid, you see, I couldn’t make myself speak out in defiance. Couldn’t force a single sound, other than to whimper in fear, shaking uncontrollably. And they were ever-so thorough, too, I can assure you. Spreading apart my inner sanctum, they produced small metal instruments which served to open me up to see inside. It was as if they were going to explore me however they pleased, to find whatever it was they were looking for!

  They spread apart my bottom and did the same back there as well, with me bent over and those snickering guards holding me up by my arms as they fingered and manipulated my rear entryway. It went on and on like that; and when I felt an icy finger poking up my rectum I nearly yelped with embarrassed outrage! Nevertheless they were back there for some time. Never knew what they’d found or what they were seeking besides perverse enjoyment; but to this day I believe they were only amusing themselves with my naked body, which the court allowed despite how offensive it must have appeared to those in attendance—not the least of which the king himself. Still, I can’t believe Arthur didn’t intervene. Perhaps he simply couldn’t; even if he desired to. My fate had become a church matter now. Nothing could save me. I was trembling and sobbing so violently by then, my legs finally buckled underneath.

  The angry bishop then ordered a bench brought out to use in securing my naked body. I could hear those filthy inquisitors murmuring to each other excitedly. Either they’d observed something, or they believed they were about to discover the ultimate goal of their investigation, I don’t really know, but once I was tied down they called the bishop over to confirm their findings.

  I was laid across the bench, my hands bound together over my head and tethered to the legs below, my ankles meanwhile fastened to the other end. By doing this, my legs were splayed open for that dirty old man to look upon me lying there helpless.

  He approached from across the room, shuffle-stepping as murmurings of disgust could be heard from Arthur’s table. As he neared, I could feel slimy fingers once again manipulating my vulva. I closed my eyes and waited for the verdict. Suddenly all I wanted was for them to plunge a dagger into my chest and end it right then and there. Feel nothing ever again. Thankfully however, it was Merlin the Magician who finally interceded on my behalf.

  “ENOUGH!” bellowed the wise old wizard. He spread his arms, holding his long staff in one hand, then pointing at me with a long, bony finger and proclaimed, “STOP THIS OUTRAGE! SEND HER TO THE DUNGEON!”

  This elicited a gasp of shock and suspense from the royal court. Then he boldly commanded, “VILE WILL INTERROGATE THE DEFENDANT ON THESE CHARGES! RELEASE HER!” For several moments, no one moved.

  Women were rarely given to Vile for interrogation, you see? Mostly it was men accused of treason or murder who were sent down there; and no one ever, or at least rarely, returned to tell the tale. When they did, their bodies would be broken, and their souls destroyed. Their minds, it was said, would be permanently warped, and they would exist for the rest of their lives as outcasts from society. Those were the stories I’d heard.

  Peasants believed Vile had an ability to remove one’s soul, and therefore the survivor’s vacant stares indicated the results of breaking their will; a process which had left them soulless. Thus they could no longer be corrupted. Victims were said to scream in horror at the very sight of him; and they would often beg for their own death at the mere suggestion they might have to face his hellish sanctuary. The gasps in the audience following Merlin’s pronouncement were followed by a brief silence with all eyes fixed upon me. Everyone expected me to scream out a confession in hopes of a quick death. And I have to say, I very nearly did!

  The fear and terror rose within me, but Merlin shot me a look of warm, thoughtful kindness. It kept me frozen and I hesitated for a moment, though my lips quivered uncontrollably. I wanted to blurt out—wanted to make outrageous claims. Yes, I was a witch. Yes, I conjured evil spirits. Whatever they wanted to believe, I’d admit to it. Anything. Yet I held my tongue. Something about the look on Merlin’s face held me back that day from begging for my own death.

  And, amazingly enough, the court was satisfied with Merlin’s suggestion! Arthur was visibly relieved as well. Though a great warrior king, Arthur was uncomfortable with controversy and conflict in peacetime. To have me disposed of meant to Arthur that he could wash his hands of the whole embarrassing matter.

  Arthur’s commands were always final of course; and if he wanted to override the bishop, he most certainly could. He was the king after all. He looked at me lying there bound to that wooden bench, naked, petrified, and trembling. Then, with no emotion showing in his eyes, Arthur waved his hand to signal the guards to have me removed from the court an
d end the shameful display. That’s all Arthur needed to alleviate the confusion in his own mind and thus satisfy the potential conflict between him and the bishop.

  Was one of his sister’s own handmaids sleeping with one of his guards, then aborting the fetus when she had become pregnant? Surely that’s all this was. He probably assumed that from the start.

  But just where might it all end? Would an inquisition begin for the rest of Morgana’s handmaids, and perhaps Gwynevere’s as well? Arthur must have imagined what might happen once the church began looking into the recent exploits of the queen’s lusty maidservants! There were certainly enough mischievous shenanigans and lustful escapades going on among that gaggle of women to stoke the fires for months! He’d likely never be rid of them, if he didn’t put a stop to it right then. In the dungeon with Vile, I could simply disappear; and with my quick demise, so would end the controversy surrounding Morgana.

  Therefore, those same guards whom I had bathed, befriended, and cared for through the winter—whom I’d drank with, sat with, and sang along with—were suddenly untying me, dragging me naked from the royal court through a side door I’d never seen opened, which led to a stairwell I never knew existed. They wouldn’t listen to my pleas, wouldn’t deter from their orders. I called out their names, reminded them we had been great friends once. They coldly ignored me, and yanked me through the doorway without a word, slamming it shut as we entered a dark, gloomy hallway.

  “Hear me, please!” I implored them, renewing my pleas for mercy, trying to appeal to their sense of compassion. I was weeping and crying out pathetically for them to take pity on me. “Please, please, brothers, let me go, I beg of you. If ye wouldst do me this one last favor, I give thee my word, ye shall never see me again! I shall vanish into the forest and no one will ever know!” I frantically swore this to them, and more.

  “Tis completely honorable,” I promised. “No one will ever know!” But I was merely filling myself with false hope. They were following orders and weren’t about to risk their own lives for mine. Still I could not believe how they ignored me! These had been my big brothers—my little brothers in some cases—and most of all my loyal friends. I’d been their companion and caregiver. I’d saved the life of one of their fellow comrades, too, by stopping the infection in his leg—with Merlin’s help of course.

  In my temporary insanity I tried holding on to the belief that they were somehow going to let me go. That maybe they were going to suddenly stop and give me a blanket to wear while they revealed some secret passage through which I could escape. But nothing doing. They had a job to do and wished to finish with me quickly. The long stone staircase led down to a dark tunnel lit only by torches and then began winding and spiraling deep below the castle. I was so terribly cold, the lower we went.

  Finally after dragging me down what seemed like a mile of stairs, they brought me into a cavern deep beneath the surface. The tunnel eventually opened into a capacious subterranean room. The air was even colder there. I shivered naked in the humidity; my feet ice cold on the stone floor. Yet suddenly we were stunned to find, of all people, Merlin the wizard standing there in the dark!

  How did he get down there so fast? I wondered. Typical Merlin. He probably knew a secret passageway that took far less time than the way we came. But to those gullible simpletons, it appeared as though Merlin had performed an act of magic!

  Merlin raised a hand and the guards stopped dead in their tracks, startled and petrified. He then pointed toward an iron gate, which led into what seemed like a large prison cell. Merlin said nothing, only glared at the two traitorous pigs holding me by the arms and continued to point at the gate. Frozen for a few moments, they eventually sprang to life and looked over at what Merlin was pointing to.

  Apparently, they knew or had heard what they were supposed to do next; but they were rattled at seeing the old wizard standing there! Maybe, I thought, Merlin was there to make sure the guards did their duty by delivering me to Vile—and didn’t try taking liberties with me.

  The very nervous guards hurriedly dragged me to the gate screaming and struggling with all my might. Something told me this was to be the end of me. I didn’t want to go through that rusty gate no matter what they did. But one held me while the other pulled open the door. It creaked and groaned as it swung out. I continued to struggle and whimper and plead with them; but it was no use, they were too strong for me.

  “No! Not in there! Please brothers!” I screamed. “Don’t do this, I beg of thee! I’ll do anything! Do what ye will with me. Use me as ye wish! Kill me with thy daggers when finished! Silence me forever! I care not! Only don’t leave me in that awful cage, please!”

  Meanwhile, I began to notice how the odor below ground was oppressive and unbearable. The smell was that of sulphur mostly…but I could also detect the foul smell of rotting flesh of some kind, probably fish. It filled my mind with revulsion and desperation to get out of there somehow; if I only could, yet at the same time the additional presence of Merlin made me think in the back of my mind that he was there to help me, because when he’d appeared in my life in the past, it was always to give me guidance or comfort. Could it be that he was going to help me this one last time as well? If so, how could he? A quick and painless death, perhaps? After all, he couldn’t be trying to save me. He himself had ordered me sent to this horrible dungeon.

  Vile was down there: the monster who could systematically torture his victims to the point of insanity. Women were rarely sent here I knew, so what would be my unique fate? Would the church send their own perverse inquisitors down here to record my confession while the horrible creature whipped me, or burned my flesh with fiery rods? Oh, the horror that must have awaited me. My mind seized with unbalanced terror. My heart raced from hearing the bizarre reverberations of my own screams as they echoed throughout the cavern, then back to me again…distorted into hellish noises like that of souls cast into the abyss, and perhaps the wailings from the depths of Satan’s infernal netherworld.

  Nearly fainting with fear, I was chained up inside the cell, my hands and wrists clasped together over my head with iron cuffs and secured to a rope from the ceiling. This took quite a while, as the guards fumbled nervously in the dark. Resigned to my fate, I whimpered and sobbed bitterly, expecting in the night to be killed, then perhaps eaten and devoured by the monster inside this very cavern. And once I was shackled and secured in place, those two cowards ran for their lives, bolting out of the cave and leaving me alone, cold and naked. They slammed the cell door shut as they fled, not even bothering to latch it.

  In my lonely sorrow I could only look out into the darkness and see Merlin, once again giving me a look of reassuring kindness, as if to say “Relax and be at peace now. It’ll be over quickly.” He said nothing though; and he continued to look at me calmly even as those fools beat a hasty retreat, scurrying like rats to the tunnel leading out of that ghastly cavern. I sobbed quietly and looked at him with tear-filled eyes as he stared back at me. Eventually, we could hear the men’s footfalls fading as they ran up the stairs. Then it was silent yet again, except for my sniffling sobs. He looked at me through the bars of the cell door and nodded slightly toward me—but as I recall it now, not right at me. He seemed to be looking past me into the darkness.

  With that, Merlin simply turned and walked away, leaving me alone in the consuming blackness. I gasped as he moved away and out of sight—wanted to call out to him. But what could I say? Could I beg him to release me? I suppose so, he certainly had the power to do whatever he liked, but I’d rarely spoken to the man before, other than to acknowledge his kindness whenever he helped me. I knew it would do no good to beg Merlin for assistance. If he was there to help me, he would have, and if he was now helping me in some other way I couldn’t yet perceive, I’d soon find out. So instead, I sobbed quietly while he walked off and left me in my moldy tomb…with only my thoughts and occasional drips of icy water falling from the ceiling of the cave onto my exposed flesh.

 
Indeed, it was silent like that for quite a while as I recall. By then I was freezing cold and trembling. My arms were numb, as I was experiencing panic and terror attacks. Trying to focus on finding a way to escape. Worrying there was absolutely no way I’d get out of that place alive. Trying to come to terms with my impending doom.

  Then suddenly—there was the sound of movement behind me! Something or someone was there, inside the cell! I yelped and cried out in horror; then I saw a dark figure moving about. It was circling my helpless body in the darkness, sniffing the air, sniffing me as well. Oh, my God, I quickly realized it was the creature!

  Turned out I was not in a cell at all but standing in the entrance to the cave that led to Vile’s dungeon. I was tied up there apparently as some form of offering to the beast to come fetch me when he was ready for a new victim! So was this the original plan after all? Interrupt the inquisition and spirit me down to the dungeon before those perverts finished with me? Was Merlin giving me to Vile instead?

  In my lonely terror, so many thoughts floated through my head; but since I knew I was still alive, I also knew I needed to focus on staying alive somehow. Whatever it took to do that, I needed to survive. Maybe—the thought even occurred to me—I wasn’t being left here to die or be killed by this monster at all. Yet, this was certainly not my bizarre dream about the greenish gray moss-covered ogre. This was really happening, and I could not shake reality from my head, however hard I tried. My fate was completely in the hands, or perhaps claws, of this shadowy being now alone with me in the dark.

  The creature was lurking below me, crouched on the floor, examining my naked body, and snarling with delight. I whimpered and sobbed in fear, as he reached out with icy human-like hands from the sleeves of his robe, and fondled my flesh, groping my breasts, my buttocks, my tummy, my legs, and my back. I gasped at each touch and felt like any moment he would feast upon me. I feared he would bite into me and tear my flesh from my bones, devouring me like a dead carcass. Tears streamed down my face as I choked on the fluids draining from both my nose and eyes.