The Devil's Surrogate Read Free Page B

would not willingly swap them even
for the most alluring white beauty. 'Perhaps you see something you
might like to sample yourself? With our compliments, of course,' he
suggested, deftly changing the course of the discussion. 'We have
several girls now who are suitably broken, and they're all clean
enough once we sluice the dust of the day off them. Perhaps I could
show you some possibilities and then offer you some refreshments
while the lads prepare your choice?'
     
    Harriet
recognised the gaunt figure of Jacob Crawley even in the near
darkness of the crypt room into which she had been cast by Jane
Handiwell's cohorts, but she knew he would not have recognised her
even if the room had been bathed in bright sunlight. The thick
leather mask concealed her identity completely, and the barbarous
spike from the metal cage that had been locked onto her head over
the hood dug viciously into her tongue every time she tried to move
it, making intelligible speech completely impossible.
    'Ah, dear
little Matilda,' he grunted, stooping over her prone figure and
reaching out a bony hand to stroke her naked left breast. 'What a
shame to waste such youthful perfection, but the work of the Lord
allows little room for personal gratification or preferences.'
    The man was
clearly insane. Harriet was sure now of what she had already
suspected as she saw the strange light burning deep in his eyes.
That he would assume she was Matilda was no surprise, but that he
could pretend, let alone evidently believe, his evil actions were
even remotely excusable or connected with religion proved to her
beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was completely mad. However, mad
or not, she was now totally in his power, and judging from what she
had heard from the villagers, in imminent danger of her life.
    'I have
decided to allow a little more time for that witch, your
grandmother, to see sense,' he growled, his fingers moving to her
other breast.
    Harriet felt
her stomach tighten and her blood turn to ice in her veins, but
knew there was little point in risking antagonising this lunatic
further by trying to draw away from his touch.
    'The old woman has sent word that she wishes to barter,'
Crawley continued, his lip curling back in a grin that revealed
misshapen, yellowing teeth. 'I sense she is simply trying to buy
time and seeking to trick me. However,' he muttered, 'one of the
village men tells me he saw her with the young Calthorpe lad, which
may well explain the apparent disappearance of my man, Jed Mardley.
The crone is planning something, I can feel it, but if she thinks
to outwit me, she'll live to regret it, if only briefly. Jed tells
me that dropping you whore-spawn on the end of a rope makes for a
painless end, but it also makes for a quick one with no time for
intervention. I discovered, many years ago, that even the most
cowardly soul may be stirred to action by the sight of a loved one
dancing on the end of a gallows rope, but with this new way there
is no time. Jed pulls his lever, and bang , down you go.' He snapped his
fingers and cackled to himself. 'Just like that, the neck is broken
and you're no more than carrion. Not so much as a twitching toe,
Matilda, dear.' He moved his other hand up to the side of her neck,
fingering the narrow steel band that kept the old scold's bridle
from being removed. 'This is even thin enough that it won't
interfere with the rope,' he snickered, 'so you'll meet your death
with nothing more than a garbled whimper. No witching curses from
the scaffold from you, my dear child, no indeed.'
    He
straightened up, and with an awkward gesture managed to throw his
cape from his shoulders, letting it cascade to the floor behind him
in a crumpled heap. 'But that is all for later, my precious.' He
fumbled with the buckle of his belt. 'Now that most of the devil's
work has been scourged from you, it's time again to at least
welcome your physical body back into the fold.' He drew the front
of his breeches apart and Harriet saw