The Lonely Duchess

She tried to raise herself; one of the other men, silent all the while, pushed her back down, his foot heavy and cruel against her chest. "We have to do something with this prisoner." He told Mesmer in a heavy, thick voice, "Her armies will be searching for her and she's got some good trackers." "Yes." Agreed Treben. "We can't cope with her army now and those three earls will bring the troops here before long." "We'll be ready." Mesmer answered, "And we'll be rid of the Duchess tomorrow morning. They won't get here in time to do anything about that." He turned his attention back to her, his eyes glinting with malice, "We're going to stake you out in the yard at first light; less than twenty-four hours away. Eighteen hours to be precise. We'll tie your hands and feet to the four stakes, having doped you again first. Then when you awaken, I'll start poking holes in you with that bone lance of yours. You'll probably take all day to bleed to death. But it'll be a pleasure to watch. You may have killed Feriam but you won't get the better of me."