The particular method being used against the prisoner was called “filet”. It was, literally, fileting the extremities. Both the earl and his brother had spent years in the Holy Land and had come by methods of torture used against the Christians by the Muslims. This one was more painful than it was actually deadly, although death would eventually result if it went on. At the moment, the man had the skin of both feet sawed away from the bone. His toes were in tatters but for all he screamed, nothing valuable had come forth.
Christopher and two of his knights, Edward de Wolfe and another by the name of Max Cornwallis, stood in the shadows watching the exchange. They tended to be the more cunning and interpretive of an enemy’s actions whereas David and Lawrence were higher-strung and more intent on gaining the actual information. Lawrence was a ferocious warrior that was sometimes more animal than man, especially in the heat of battle, which was why he had no problem fileting the prisoner’s feet as David asked the questions. Lawrence was often called upon to do the dirty work because he was the one most capable of doing it.
But the prisoner was surprisingly resilient. He had so far resisted everything put to him and screamed in frustration and agony in response to David’s question.
“I will say again that I know nothing of what you ask,” he howled. “I was traveling home from France and have not seen nor been in contact with the king for months!”
They had heard this repeatedly. David lifted an eyebrow. “So you mean to tell me that you, the Lord of Esgarraida, who has in the past supplied John with money and men, know nothing of the latest turn of events? You know nothing of Arthur’s death?”
The bloodied man looked up at him, his face pale with blood loss and pain. “I told you I knew of Arthur’s death. Everyone knows of Arthur’s death.”
“I know you did. But what we are trying to understand is why you are here, right now. Why did the king send you?”
Lawrence began to filet the man’s heel and he screamed. Halfway through, he began to twitch and jerk. “The king did not send me!” he howled. “I am returning from France!”
More screaming and blood followed. Christopher, having been watching this display for well over twelve hours, finally broke from his stance in the darkness and made his way over to the prisoner. When Lawrence caught sight of him, he stopped what he was doing and stepped back respectfully. But Christopher’s focus was on the lord, panting with pain and weakness. For fourteen hours, the man had stuck to his story without wavering; either he was very strong or he was telling the truth. Christopher was beginning to think it was the latter and decided it was time to intervene.
“What do you know of Arthur’s death?” he asked.
The Lord of Esgarraida looked at the baron with unnaturally bright eyes. “Nothing more than what I’ve said. It was rumored everywhere. It was all people could speak of on the boat over.”
“You did not, perchance, have a hand in it?”
The man shook his head. “I am not so high powered,” he breathed. “Rumor has it Eleanor orchestrated it to protect John. That is what everyone seems to believe.”
Christopher didn’t look at his brother, but he could feel David’s gaze on him. “Eleanor?” he repeated, thinking that it made a good deal of sense considering the old woman had undoubtedly captured the lad. One more death by her command would not be unheard of. “But no one knows for sure?”
“Not that I know,” the man hung his head, exhausted and in agony. “That is all I can tell you. If you are going to kill me, then be done with it. I am of no more use to you.”
Christopher gazed at him a moment longer before shooting his brother a knowing look. David followed him several feet away to a private conference.
“What is it?” David whispered.
Christopher crossed his arms in a thoughtful gesture. “Esgarraida is not one of John’s more powerful barons. He holds a small fiefdom in Central Wales and is not usually in the heat of things. I am coming to think he is telling the truth.”
David nodded, not feeling the least bit remorseful for tearing the man’s flesh apart. “If that is your thought.”
“It is. But I believe this episode provided something of value.”
“How is that?”
“He has implicated Eleanor in not only the abduction of Arthur, but his death.”
“We already have information that she was behind his kidnapping.”
“Aye, but not his murder. Everyone knows how underhanded she is, especially against her husband’s bastards. She will do anything to protect her sole surviving son and his throne.”