Chapter 7
Faramir ripped open Teleziel’s tunic, exposing the fresh wounds to the cool air. Teleziel shivered, but offered no resistance. Taking up a towel, Faramir dipped it in water and began sponging off the Haradrim’s belly. His mouth was set in a grim line and the gray eyes flashed with deep anger.
Teleziel lay silently, warring with himself. He knew he did not have the strength to undergo any more torture, if that was the man’s preferred method of dealing with him. And yet, he was so tired and lonely and empty. He’d always known the price of his confession, should he ever make it, but the reality was completely different from his romantic notions. Somehow, in the back of his mind, he and Imiro came to an agreement. Perhaps, in his silly daydreams, he’d thought Imiro loved him in the same way. To confess again and see the same look of contempt and feel the same brutal punishment again almost made him weep.
When he’d finished cleaning Teleziel, Faramir angrily tossed the towel angrily into the bowl and water splashed onto the floor. “Let us have done with it.”
“Give me a knife.”
Faramir’s eyes narrowed to slits and for a moment, he considered honoring Teleziel’s request. “No.”
“If you give me a knife, I will tell you the truth.”
“You will tell me the truth any way. If I have to beat it out of you, you will tell me.” Faramir’s voice rose as anger welled up inside him. He watched Teleziel blanch and said more quietly. “You are destroying yourself.”
Outside, Mablung heard Faramir raise his voice and crept closer. When he heard the voices return to normal pitch, he retreated.
“You will do that anyway, once you take me to Minas Tirith. I am nothing more to you than a source of information. I have given you all I know, and have nothing left for you. You waste your time with me.”
Teleziel’s hair had dried in long tangles and Faramir wanted to smooth it down, but didn’t dare. “I will ask for clemency, if you promise to help us. We know you are not welcome among your own, even you admitted that.”
“You would let the enemy live with you? Fool.”
Indeed, thought Faramir. A fool with a fool’s heart. Teleziel had touched him in a way that he couldn’t even begin to understand and he knew that what he suggested was impossible, but he still wanted to believe in dreams. “My men believe you are mad and that I should kill you.”
“Your men are right. I am mad.”
“You must be. Is that how the Haradrim treat those who have gone out of their minds?”
“Sometimes.”
“If I give you a knife what will you do with it? Will you try to escape?” Faramir watched Teleziel’s sad smile and knew the answer. He sighed. “I must obey my orders.”
“You are an honorable man,” Teleziel said. “Promise me you will not let them …” he couldn’t finish and he gulped air. “Do not let them do that to me. I will tell you everything if you promise me that.”
Faramir considered for a moment. He had no control over what his father did and with a prisoner as valuable as someone like Teleziel, there was no telling what Denethor would do. How, then, could he promise that he would not allow him to be tortured? A grim smile touched his lips. One thing was certain, Teleziel was in no danger of being raped by the examiner. That much he could promise. Too, he had a knife. If it came to that. “I promise.”
“I confessed my love to Imiro.”
Faramir waited quietly for Teleziel to continue, but when he sat staring back at him, Faramir grew confused. “Imiro? Who is she?”
“He.”
Faramir sucked in a deep breath and held it for a moment. Now Teleziel’s strange words made sense to him. So, oddly enough, did the rape and beating. “The Haradrim forbid such a thing,” his question was more of a statement of the obvious, but Teleziel nodded hesitantly, as if awaiting Faramir’s judgment. “And your betrothed? You did not love her, I take it?”
Teleziel shook his head.
“Was Imiro close to you?”
“He was my friend since childhood. I cannot ever remember not knowing him. But that night, I realized I did not ever know him.”
Faramir wanted to ask if Imiro had participated in the rape and beating, but assumed from Teleziel’s statement that he must have done.
“What will you do with me?”
“You haven’t told me everything.”
“I do not know how to explain it. I will try, but I don’t know if I can make you understand, because sometimes I do not understand myself.”
Faramir considered that and then replied. “I have heard of those who enjoy it…find it sexually arousing.”
“I already explained that to you. It isn’t about sex or pain. It’s about being alive.”
Settling down cross-legged on the floor, Faramir propped his elbow on his thigh and stared long and hard at Teleziel. What the Haradrim claimed made no sense at all. How was it you inflicted pain in order to feel alive? What twisted logic was that? “I do not understand,” he admitted.
“I did not think you would.” Teleziel pulled himself up into a sitting position so that his bare back was against the wall. Self-consciously he pulled open the laces of his breeches and exposed his hips and upper thighs. “These marks were made by the Haradrim, as part of my punishment. The night…I was found out, they stripped me and saw the marks for the first time. This compounded my crime because they assumed as you did. But these marks,” his finger traced a series of faint scars. “I made. I can tell you each mark and what I felt when I put it there. I cannot tell you why.”
Faramir held up his hand for silence. “Mablung!”
Seconds later, Mablung burst into the room, sword drawn. He skidded to a halt as he saw Faramir seated comfortably and Teleziel leaning against the wall with his breeches undone. He looked around and blushed and muttered as he backed out the door.
“Would you bring some wine and my pipe?”
Mablung sheathed his sword and made a short bow while Faramir
concealed his amusement. “And tell every one to stand down. The danger
has passed.” He looked pointedly at Teleziel. “Hasn’t it?”