The Unchaste

A Hero for Rescue.

“Is she dead, Norris?”

“Pst, Brent. Asleep.”

“She seems dead to me. Look…ghastly.”

“Water, Brent.”

“To drink, Norris? How about some wine tonight?”

“Damnit Brent! We must wake her up now. It’s been fifteen hours. Water, now!”

There was a dark, insensible interval hereafter.

Then, the spray of bone-cutting, glacial water settling across her face woke Delilah from her death haze. This, added to the other offences made her wake with a violent gasp and Delilah looked around frantically to find two very curious looking men staring at her from safe distance and that…

…that she was once again tied to a chair. Wrist and ankle.

It as a dingy room, around her. Cold to a devastating degree, lacking light but for the small, less than enough, fireplace_ the heat of which was not to her reach. The room as devoid of any furniture, floor crusted with thickest flakes of dregs and grime and one window, boarded up with ply.

She blinked down. And blinked up. And everywhere, before landing her dark gaze at her captors.

“Release me.” She demanded, softly. “Now.”

“Aye.” The older man gave her a look. “And let you amble around, scheming us_ you infiltrator!”

“I am not_” She tugged at her wrist. “What is this place?”

The older man walked to her, haughtily and fiercely. “You very well know what this place is! You, vixen, came here to harm my master and now, you act all damsel and dove and think that I shall not see through your faux pas, but I very well do. Aye, you hear, I do!”

Delilah stared at the man dumbfounded. Harm his master? “What master? Who is your Master?”

“Phenomenal show-acting!” He clapped once, right into her face, making Delilah hiss in annoyance. “I am not convinced. You know who I talk of. Now, What are your intentions? You will tell me who launched you here or shall I skin you first?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I will like to see you try.”

“You cannot waver me from my sense of duty.” The man declared self-adoringly. “Talk of your intentions!”

Delilah’s temper mounted. “I only came here to see Lord Richard and I will see him. You, or your whole set of forefathers, cannot stop me.”

“Ah!” He laughed again. Again, in her face. “See! I knew you were here to harm my master. See, Brent. I did tell you! Hah!”

“And will you please get out of my face no?” Delilah seethed frailly. “I find it impracticable to talk when someone is determined on sitting atop my head.”

“Why, you flaunt a temper chit!”

Delilah’s eyes flashed. “I can flaunt you many more things dare you encroach that very temper anymore.”

Delilah had meant her dagger. This man_ the bastard!_ mistook it as something entirely more nasty.

“I am a respectable man, witch and shan’t be tempted by your foulest, most debauch proposals.” He turned and marched off to the other man, who was carefully eyeing Delilah. “Come Brent, let’s leave her to herself. Madwoman, I have heard, gets madder when left in her own company.”

“No! Stop!” Delilah snarled. “I must see Lord Richard. I must meet her_”

“His Grace is not to be disturbed for_” Norris pulled out his pocket watch and gazed at it. “_ For next few days. No. You will have to wait so long and then, I will dispose you off like all others!”