“What's this, Chattan?” Melcorka asked, watching the women warily. “Your pets?”
Chattan gave a weak smile, eyeing Defender and Melcorka's claws warily. “You are in my lair now, Swordswoman.”
“I have a question for you.” Melcorka fought against the waves of hatred that swept over her. She pushed Chattan towards the lip of the pit, holding her claws ready to strike. “Where can I find the Lord of Dun Dreggan?”
Chattan staggered under Melcorka's push. “You are in his house, Swordswoman. He already knows you are here.”
“Where can I find him?” As Melcorka spoke, she thought of Bradan falling from the rope bridge, with the sea frothing grey-white and furious beneath him and the cold, lonely death he would have, choking on salt water.
“You don't need to find him,” Chattan said. “He will find you.”
The two women were circling Melcorka, their hands extended like claws, cat-faces snarling. At a sign from Chattan, they pounced, slashing sideways. Unable to use Defender in this battle, Melcorka relied on her speed and experience, ducked away from the first woman to slash in turn with her claws at the second.
As the woman reeled back with both hands to her face, Melcorka sensed the second woman behind her. Rather than turning, she fell flat, rolled to the side and kicked out with her feet to catch the woman behind the knees, knocking her on to her back.
Rising quickly, Melcorka stamped on the woman's throat, only to see another dozen dark-clad cat-women entering the room, and Chattan holding a short spear. Knowing that, without Defender, she could not defeat such numbers, Melcorka ignored the women and lunged directly at Chattan. She managed to avoid his spear thrust, slashed at his throat with her claws and felt half a dozen hands dragging her back.
Struggling furiously, kicking, biting, slashing with her claws, Melcorka saw Chattan reel back with blood flowing from his cuts, only to stand again, injured but alive. A dozen cat-women held Melcorka, snarling as they thrust their claws into her arms and legs.
“I'll kill you, Chattan,” Melcorka promised, as she realised her anger had overcome her sense. She had allowed her grief at losing Bradan to hand victory to Chattan.
“I don't think so, Swordswoman.” Chattan raised his voice. “Don't kill her.” He spoke to his cat-women. “She can join the others.” He indicated the prisoners who hunched in chains against the wall. “We will feed her to the cats.” Blood ran down from the wound in his neck as he approached Melcorka. “I had your man killed, Melcorka, and now I will watch my cats kill you.”
In the pit below, scores of cats hissed, spat and fought over half a dozen human skeletons. Holding his wound, Chattan gave a slow smile. “I'll let you watch what happens first, Swordswoman, and then lower you in.” He raised his voice. “Take her sword away and put her with the others.”
* * *
Chained to the wall, Melcorka looked directly into the pit where the cats prowled, hissing and spitting at one another. One green-eyed tabby monster seemed to be the king of the glaring pack, dealing with any challenger with a vicious swipe of his claws. Unable to help herself, Melcorka stared at the tabby, which returned her look with a smouldering malevolence that promised a horrible death if she tumbled into the pit. She did not know how long she had been there; had it been six hours? Ten? She could not tell. Melcorka looked up when the door opened, and Chattan appeared, with half a dozen of his cat-women behind him.
With blood staining the fresh linen bandage on his neck, Chattan walked along the line of prisoners, touching a face here, patting a shoulder there.
“You, I think.” Chattan stopped in front of a sturdy young man with crusted blood over a wound on his face. “Yes, you.”
Four of the cat-women scurried forward, to surround the chosen man. He struggled as they unfastened his chains, and managed to fell one before the others dragged and pushed him to the edge of the pit. Rather than plead for mercy, he swore at them.
“Fight them!” Straining against her chains, Melcorka tried to help, kicking out until the iron manacles around her ankles pulled her back. “Fight them!”
The man did his best, wrapping his arms around the nearest cat-woman. Heedless of their companion, the other cat-women surrounded both and threw them into the pit.
Led by the giant tabby, the cats flooded forward, jumping on the two humans in a flurry of fur, fury, claws and teeth. The man tried to defend himself, throwing the first two cats away, but there were so many he was soon submerged. The woman screamed and tried to scramble clear, calling for help that her colleagues did not give. They watched as half a dozen cats jumped on her, clawing until she collapsed, a bloody, whining wreck on the ground.
Melcorka did not watch the prolonged death of the woman or the prisoner. Instead, she stared at Chattan, who was licking his lips, enjoying the spectacle. “It will be your turn to die soon, Chattan. I promise you.”
Hardly able to shift his attention from the horror in the pit, Chattan smiled at her, his yellow eyes wild. “I'll give you a few days, Swordswoman. Enough time for the cats to get hungry again, and then I'll have you lowered slowly, an inch at a time.”
“You will never see that, Chattan,” Melcorka said. “You'll die before I do.” She forced a laugh. “I promise you that. You murdered my man and I'll look down into your dying eyes.”
Chattan opened his mouth to speak, dropped his gaze before Melcorka's steady eyes, turned and walked away. In the pit, the green-eyed tabby chewed at the man, with blood oozing from the side of its mouth.
* * *
Melcorka lost track of time. She did not know how long she had been
