The Traitor's Daughter

Chapter Sixteen

"Please," Elizabeth pleaded, her voice hoarse. "Please don't hurt me anymore."

Sir Richard's face was void of all emotion. He stared at the girl wordlessly, unblinking, until she looked away from him. Suddenly, his face lit up, and he turned from Elizabeth and stuck the rod back into the fireplace. He suddenly left the room, leaving the girl tied to the chair, her arm throbbing. She longed to take her hand and press it onto the wound, but they were tied to the arms of the chair, making it impossible. She eyed the secret door that Henry used to visit her when Sir Richard kept her locked up in the room, and willed it to open. She hadn't seen her friend for days, which worried her a bit.

Just as quick as he had left, Sir Richard had returned, dragging a beaten and bruised Henry along with him. Elizabeth immediately gasped and pulled at the ropes digging into her wrists, the skin raw and sore from the scratchy material. She ignore the pain in her body and focused on her friend, who tried to tell her not worry about him.

"Ah," Sir Richard said with a grin. "It seems you two know each other."

He pushed Henry onto his knees, then held his hand on his shoulder, keeping him in place. Henry looked at Elizabeth with the eye that wasn't swollen shut, giving her a pleading look, which basically told her that he was fine. Elizabeth didn't believe a word, or rather, a look, he gave her, since he looked much worse than how she'd ever looked after Sir Richard was done with her.

"It's curious," Richard said as he turned to the table and picked up a whip. "How does a servant and my prisoner come to know each other? And why have some of the kitchen staff complained about you stealing food from the kitchens?"

Henry kept his chin held high and refused to answer.

Sir Richard turned and looked at the pair expectantly, waiting for an answer. He hit the bound whip against his hand, listening to the muted smack that it made against his palm.

"I think I know a way to get the two of you to talk."

Sir Richard motioned to a guard who was keeping watch over the door, then motioned towards Henry.

"Hold him," Richard murmured.

The guard did as told, and held Henry's shoulders tightly, while the boy tried to wiggle away from him. It was no use. Sir Richard reached down and gripped the back of Henry's cotton shirt, a handful in each hand, then pulled hard, and tore the back of the shirt so that the young boy's back was exposed. He picked up the whip again, and with a flick of his wrist, the whip was no longer in a neat bundle, but stretched out like a snake. The old man tensed his fist while he held the handle of the whip, adrenaline rushing through his veins.

"No, please!" Elizabeth cried out. "I'll say anything you want. Please don't hurt my friend."

Richard's eyes snapped to the girl's, a frown on his face.

"Go on," He prodded. "Tell me that your father was a traitor. Tell me that he was not an honest man."

Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut and said a quick prayer, hoping that her father would forgive her someday.

"My father..." She trailed off, while a tear pushed it's way past her eyelid and slid down her cheek. "My father was a traitor," She whispered shakily.

Sir Richard grinned, feeling giddy inside.

"And?"

"And he was not an honest man," She cried out.

"Very good," Sir Richard soothed. "I cannot tell you how pleased I am to know that you have finally seen the truth. Your father was a traitor, an evil man. I am positive that he would have murdered the king if he had had the chance. I thank God everyday that we executed him when we did."