As the beating continued, however, it soon became apparent that my torturers had merely been warming to their task; the blows became sharper, and more keenly judged. Again and again, I was struck in the places where I was certain to feel the most pain: forearms, shins, knees, elbows, ribs. At the same time, the rope was pulled even tighter and I was lifted off the ground entirely, so that I could not brace myself even by so much as a single toe.
With each blow, my body jerked and swung uncontrollably-only to be struck again while still swinging. The guards laughed at this. I heard their voices, ringing in the yard and any sorrow I had felt for myself vanished utterly, consumed in a sudden surge of white-hot rage.
Never had I known such anger. Had it been a flame, the entire mining settlement would have been scorched to ashes, every house and all the inhabitants: men, women, and children. I ground my teeth on my lips until the blood ran down my chin and onto my chest, and still I did not cry out. Far away, as if from a great remove across a vast distance, I could hear Dugal praying out loud for me, beseeching God on my behalf. The exercise was but a meaningless act born of desperation, and I scorned his useless prayers.
When at last they took me down, all my wounds had spread and fused into a single massive bruise which pulsed agony through me with every gasping, rattling breath. Blinded by pain, I could not see properly; I was conscious, though-some small part of my mind remained aware. I knew that my limbs were intact and that none of my bones were broken. I knew that Dugal was now undergoing the same torture I had just received.
I knew also that I was a changed man, for the insane rage had consumed me from within, and my heart was now as cold and hard as a spent cinder.
When they had finished with Dugal, and then with Gunnar, they bound our hands behind our backs and tied them to our ankles. We were made to kneel in the sun like this during the hottest part of the day. My awareness drifted; sometimes I knew where I was and what had happened, and other times I thought I was alone in a coracle on the sea. I could even feel the waves undulating beneath me, now lifting my little boat high, now dropping down once more.
It seemed to me as I lay in the bottom of the boat, a solitary cloud drifted in front of the sun; the shadow passed over me and I opened my eyes to see that the cloud had an unusual shape and solidity. Roused by this curiosity, I looked again, and saw that the cloud had the face of a man, and that its white billows were the folds of a turban; two dark eyes in that face regarded me with deep apprehension and concern. This baffled me, for I could think of no reason why my torturers might distress themselves over my plight.
I heard a voice like the buzzing of an insect, and realized that the man whose face hovered above me was speaking. He seemed to address me, but I could not understand what he was saying. Then he raised his head and spoke to someone else. Yes, he addressed someone else; his face contorted in anger as he looked away from me. Someone shouted, and the man shouted back in reply as he disappeared from view. I had not the strength to raise my head and see where he went. But even as he vanished, it came to me that it was a face I knew-I had seen this man before-he had a name, and it was a name I knew, but could not say. Who was he?
This question gnawed at me through the day; I kept remembering the face and thinking about it until the sun began to sink low in the dust-hazed sky, and the guards returned to give us another beating. As before, we were hoisted up onto the post, and set upon with wooden staves. The only difference was that this time they struck flesh already bruised and wounded, and which had had ample time to swell. Thus, the second battering was even more painful than the first.
The hard place within me refused to yield, however; I did not cry out. Neither did I endure the full brunt of the punishment, for after the torture began in earnest, the pain became too great and I passed into blessed oblivion. The next thing I knew, water was being poured over me, to revive me. I awoke to throbbing agony, every muscle and bone aflame with pain. When the first wave of pain had passed, I found that the sky was dark, and that we were receiving the attentions of a small man in a large black turban. The fellow gave us each a drink of water, holding our heads for us so that we would not drown when the water gushed down our throats. After easing our thirst, he examined our limbs. Where the skin had burst from swelling, he rubbed a soothing salve into the wound.
This was done under the silent scrutiny of the chief overseer, who stood before his house watching all that was done for us. Satisfied that no bones were broken, the little man turned to his superior, bowed once very low and departed, muttering to himself.
