Free Raised By Wolves Volume four- Wolves by W. A. Hoffman Page A

think about what tack I should take this day. I supposed it depended on what winds I was presented with.
    Thorp seemed amused at my appearance for some reason. “Is it comfortable to sit?”he goaded.
I ignored him, and he sat at the table with a bottle of wine I could smell. It made me ill.
When Collins arrived, he had the gall to gaze upon me with apology and sympathy. I glared at him until he mustered words.
“My lord, was that pleasant? Do you truly find pleasure insuchtreatment?”Collins asked.
“Nay, youdamnfool,”I growled.
He grimaced. “But is that not the pleasure you find in other men:impalingone another inyour nether holes?”
Watkins was behind me, but his hands were not about my shoulders. My chained hands rested upon the table. I lunged. I knew they would not give me time to strangle the bastard, so I chose to do as much damage as one plunge would allow. I got two fingers in Collins’ right eye. They pulled me off him and
clubbed me to the floor, but I had been successful: my fingers
    clubbed me to the floor, but I had been successful: my fingers were coated in jelly, and Collins was screaming and holding his bleedingsocket.
    I laughed as they dragged me to the beam and chained me standing with my hands above my head. The beating that followed left me hanginglimplyfrommywrists.
    I woke inthe stocks, not rememberingbeingtakendown fromthe beam. There was light, but whether it was the same day or the next, I could not tell. I ached so that I thought another beating might have been a relief. I was released and allowed to relieve myself. Then I was given a cup of gruel and another of water. I drank them greedily. Then they chained me standing again and beat me with a knotted rope until I passed into unconsciousness.
    I woke over the barrel with the plug in my arse and they caned me. I woke in the stocks. This went on for days. I could not tell how many. I did not see Collins, and even Thorp soon found mypainboring. There was grueland water here and there. Sometimes they allowed me to relieve myself in a pot. Sometimes I pissed and shat when the need struck me and let thembeat me for havingto cleanthe mess.
    Collins finally arrived one day when I was tied over the barrel. He was wearinganeye patch. I laughed at him. He asked if I wanted to speak to him. I laughed harder. He left, and things continued as theyhad.
    I woke to someone whispering, “Will,” and opened my eyes to see Sarah. I was lying on my pallet, chained to the wall but not restrained in other ways. I was wearing a shirt and
breeches. She was wearing a fine dress with stays. Her hair was
     
breeches. She was wearing a fine dress with stays. Her hair was prettilycoiffed atop her head.
    Someone was in the room behind her. I ignored them and met her tearygaze.
“Why are you letting them do this to you, Will?” she whispered. “There is no need.”
My Horse eyed her warily, but I smiled. “I am not
wrong.”She sighed. “That is unimportant. Their silly ideas are
    unimportant. Yousurvivinguntilwe cansee Father is important.” “That willnot make things right. He is the cause ofthis.” She sighed again and leaned close to breath in my ear.
“There is a ship followingus.”
    At first I could not understand why that was important, and then hope exploded painfully in my heart such that tears sprangto myeyes.
    She had pushed herself to standing and turned to address someone. “I amsure our father will be displeased if you killhim.”
    “I will not let them kill him,” Thorp said. “He is doing precious little to keep himself alive, though. Can you get him to cooperate withMister Collins?”
    “I will see what I can do,” she said tightly. “We Williamses are a verystubbornpeople.”
I thought onhis question. “Nay,”I gasped.
“Will!” Sarah snapped and stomped her foot. “Be reasonable!”
“I will not forsake Gaston,” I said calmly. “Though it means mydeath.”
means mydeath.”
“Will!”she implored, her gaze