And barefoot, in one shirt and rolled up trousers, with a rope around his neck, they led him to the castle.
Julius felt humiliated. He is led like a dog, or a slave on a leash. Moreover, the hands are tied behind the back, which hurts, and the hands, and the elbows, and the shoulders are numb and painfully ache.
Yes, and the pavement street of the medieval city is very dirty, and horse and cow cakes are scattered along it. Which is very disgusting.
The boy's bare soles are rather elastic and callused. They have not yet had time to pamper and soften. Rather, he suffers from the loss of expensive and shiny boots morally than physically.
But it's disgusting to feel robbed. And as if you are no longer a marquis, but a commoner.
The boy walked, slapping his bare feet, his mood was not major.
However, to lighten the mood a little, one could sing. But nothing came to mind. It's like the inspiration has been turned off. And a complete lack of enthusiasm.
Julius sighed even harder. The old, barefoot girl in a tattered, impoverished dress suddenly ran up to him and chirped:
- Are you a prisoner?
The guard shouted at the child:
- Back off! We're bringing a spy in for questioning!
The girl murmured:
- Wow! But it's so interesting!
The head guard remarked:
- If you want the executioner to roast your heels, then you can come with us. Perhaps you are his accomplice?
The girl replied:
- No! I see him for the first time. But he is still a boy, and are you really going to fry his soles with fire?
The head guard nodded.
- Certainly! Our executioners are professionals. And waiting for the boy and the rack, and the whip, and red-hot tongs!
The girl chirped:
But it's so cruel!
- We will flog you now! - And the guard swung at the girl with a whip. She jumped back and rushed to run, flashing her bare, pink heels.
Julius took a deep breath. His mood was not major. And now it's completely messed up.
Here the boy was brought to the fence with sharp spears on top. Here was the building of the city prison. And this is a real fort. In the prison yard, they just flogged a girl. She was quite beautiful, although somewhat thin and bony. And the whip of the executioner whipped her on her bare back. The torturer himself was in a red robe, and rather fleshy and massive.
And hit hard. The girl's entire back and sides were slashed, and blood flowed. She screamed at the top of her lungs in pain.
Julius felt sick and turned away. Yes, the customs here are wild. But soon, apparently, the whip will go through his muscular, tanned, sinewy back.
Julius winced. After the pleasant warmth of the cobblestones of the pavement and courtyard heated in the sun, the boy's bare feet felt cold and damp inside the prison.
Julius sang:
Taganka, I am your permanent prisoner,
Lost youth and talent...
Within your walls!
And the boy shuddered again involuntarily. He was immediately taken to the torture cellar. Executioners, as you know, do not tolerate downtime. Yes, and their work is not easy, sometimes you have to work hard around the clock.
And depending on whom to torture. Not always come across beautiful girls and cute boys.
The chief guard handed Julius over to the chief executioner. Judging by the groans and howls, there was a very intensive work.
The chief executioner looked at Julius and remarked:
- Good! Well, why are you here with us?
The boy replied:
- Never!
The head guard said:
- He pretended to be a count...
Julius interrupted:
- For the Marquis!
The big warrior nodded.
- Especially! And we suspect it's a spy! We need to knock out a confession and the names of accomplices from him.
The executioner nodded in agreement.
- It's clear! But we're busy right now. However, let's try the Spanish boots.
The head guard confirmed:
- I believe in your professionalism.
The chief executioner remarked:
- Spanish boot, this is a very painful torture. Maybe you can tell us who sent you here and for what purpose?
Julius stated:
- No one directed me. I am on my own.
The chief tormentor nodded.
- Get started!
The executioner's assistants grabbed the boy and dragged him to a spiked steel chair. Since Julius would already be barefoot, they raised his rolled-up trouser leg a little higher and pulled up the device. He had to gradually squeeze the leg when turning the wheel.
Having carefully fixed it, the executioner grinned carnivorously.
Scribes were sitting in the hall, and they wrote down all the testimony. And also there was an inhuman howl that escaped from the throats of the tortured. Two of the scribes prepared to write down everything Julius had to say.
The boy asked in annoyance:
- Aren't you disgusted by what you do?
The executioner logically remarked:
- Everyone has their own job. The Goldsmiths don't like what they do either, but their work is also useful in its own way. So we, for example, also benefit by exposing spies like you!