Relentless violent motion jerked Paul awake. His wrists and ankles were shackled to a basic iron vehicle.
It was difficult to tell exactly what sort of vehicle in the deep red near-darkness of night, but it seemed to be no more than an iron bucket seat on a single iron wheel, and he was being pushed at frightening speed by a running demon soldier.
It was a wheelbarrow!
He was folded into a wheelbarrow and hurtling backwards on a rough rocky road at about thirty miles an hour.
When they tilted to take a curve without slowing down, he glimpsed two more loaded wheelbarrows with demon drivers ahead of him. Tamass and Danali.
It was some relief that they were all still alive. For the time being, at least.
More armoured demons jogged easily alongside the wheelbarrows.
Their road was halfway up a nearly vertical cliff face on one side of a canyon. On the opposite cliff face, the corresponding road was blocked by a small fort.
When his wheelbarrow stopped he assumed they’d reached a matching roadblock.
A shouted challenge came out of the darkness ahead in the same harsh language that Sted had used during the battle on the beach.
One of the escorting demons replied with equal aggression. His final word sounded like Rake.
Paul leaned over as far as his shackles would allow, hoping to see what was at the bottom of the canyon.
His driver took no notice.
Far below, there was a river of flowing lava.
The squeals and drag of an iron gate being slid aside pierced the night, and they were off again. The road tilted downwards from the roadblock and continued dropping steadily for about a mile.
It was a bruising, body-rattling journey, but his splitting headache was worse than anything.
He was probably concussed.
They crossed a high stone-built bridge and paused briefly to pass through another roadblock.
“Don’t think we’ll be unheard if we talk like this,” Danali warned silently.
They were off again and the shadow of a mountain plunged them into darkness, and only an eventual increase in the echoing noise of their transit suggested that they’d entered the castle.
The wheelbarrows continued at the same mad pace along poorly lit corridors and even down short flights of steps that jolted cries of shocked pain from Paul.
Finally, they stopped outside a great iron door.
A demon unlocked and opened it, and the wheelbarrows were pushed into a dungeon.
A brazier burned in the middle of the hot, windowless, nearly airless room.
The demon unpinned Paul’s shackles and dumped him on the stone floor then shackled him to the wall.
Tamass and Danali were being shackled too.
A motionless bundle of something lay shackled to the wall opposite Paul. It was probably another prisoner. He couldn’t tell if it was alive.
The demons left without a word or a backwards look. The door slammed shut and a key turned in its lock.
“Any bad injuries?” Tamass asked in a low voice.
“No,” Danali said.
Paul didn’t mention his concussion. “We’re in the shit.”
“We are,” Tamass agreed, testing his shackles.
Paul rested his head back against the wall and wished his brain would stop hammering.
He might have dozed off. Or lost consciousness. He didn’t know, but suddenly the door was being unlocked and he jerked back to a sickening doom-filled awareness.
The biggest demon he’d yet seen strode into the room, accompanied by a guard of armoured soldiers holding burning torches aloft. The huge demon stood with feet planted wide apart and arms akimbo, surveying the new prisoners.
He must have been seven feet tall, and looked nearly two feet wide at his shoulders. Some of that effect would be from his dark glinting armour and all its thick black leather straps, but most of it was sheer massive size.
“I am Baron Rake.” His voice was as loud as his body was huge. “You’ve heard of me.”
It wasn’t a question.
“But someone you’re not expecting to meet is your father.”
He gave a curt nod to one of his soldiers, who very carefully carried a bucket of water to the inert bundle and jumped back out of harm’s way when he dumped the water over it.
“Jaun of Tokki,” Rake shouted. “This is a great day. Wake up and meet your sons.”
The bundle stirred.
Pulses hammered in Paul’s temples and his heartbeat filled his throat.
“And one other.” Rake peered at Danali, until a broad grin broke across his mottled face. “No! But this is too sweet. Jaun, wake up and meet your sons and your father!”
He kicked Jaun’s feet.
Jaun moaned and pulled his feet away, then slowly hauled himself up on to one elbow and blinked in the light.
He looked like a dumbly terrified, naked, hairless animal. Anything human about his appearance must have gone long ago.
His flesh was like old burned leather. Everywhere. Scars, on scars, on ancient scars. Hundreds of brandings marked his skin, so many that they couldn’t be discerned as separate.
The iron handle sticking out of the brazier’s coals took on a horrible sudden significance.
One of Jaun’s eye sockets was closed and hollow. His other bloodshot eye swivelled slowly from Paul, to Tamass, to Danali.
“The whole family is here!” Rake boomed. “Isn’t this wonderful? We must celebrate.”
He said something over his shoulder in the guttural language, and one of his soldiers left at a jog.
“This room has been your father’s home for all of your lives, boys. He’s a brave man. I’ve been trying to persuade him to tell me his secret all those years, but he never would. Frankly, it isn’t worth the bother of hurting him anymore. I think he’s grown to enjoy the pain.
“But now he can watch his sons and his father suffer. Let’s see how brave he’ll be on your behalf.”
Paul had to squeeze muscles hard to stop his bowels emptying suddenly. His mind screamed silently.
A naked demon entered the dungeon and licked his lips as he looked around the new arrivals. He was more snakelike than humanoid.
“This is Kal,” Rake said. “My most talented torturer. Many of my demons have played with your father over the years, but Kal always brings out the best in him.”
He looked from Danali to Tamass, and then fixed his cruel gaze on Paul.
Paul was shaking uncontrollably. His bowels threatened to release at any moment.
“We’ll make this as entertaining as possible.” Rake pointed at Paul. “Start with the runt.”