a neatly made sleigh-style bed, dark walnut-wood bookcases that lined every free inch of wall space, and the occasional dead thing thrown in for decoration: a ram's head, an elk's, two stuffed pheasants and a monster of a fish mounted on a plaque above the oak mantle.
"Get in," he told her flatly. "This is where you'll stay when you're not working."
The door swung shut behind them and he swung across the room, past the fireplace and the bathroom, to a narrow door in the far wall.
"This is where you'll sleep," he said as he flung open the door.
The size of a spacious walk-in closet, it still made for a very small room. There was no window and the light from the ceiling could have in no way been mistaken for anything other than artificial fluorescence. Especially when it flickered, as it was doing now. The only article of furniture was the bed itself, a thin twin mattress that lay on the floor. No worse really than the room Richard had given Mahogany and China.
"Well," he said when she hesitated at the edge of the door.
"You want an engraved invitation?"
Fidgeting with the front of her pea green tunic, Mercy squeezed between him and the threshold and crept into the closet. She looked down at her bed on the floor. There was one pillow and a set of pressed sheets and a blanket folded neatly on the foot of the mattress.
"You've got six cuts coming to you," Shipe said. "You'll get them first thing after supper. Plus an extra two for your 65
Judgment II: Mercy
by Denise Hall
misplaced curiosity in the Pit. Depending on how irritated I am with you by then, I may or may not round the count to twelve. Questions, comments, complaints?"
She blinked back at him and gave a small shake of her head. "No, sir."
He grunted, then started to close the door. He almost had it latched before abruptly he swung it open again to glare at her again. "Lights out is at ten. I hear so much as a peep from in here and I'll take a layer of skin off your backside. Got it?"
Mercy attempted a small nod. "Y-yes, sir."
"You claustrophobic?" he asked.
"No, sir."
He turned his head, looking around him, then reached up to pluck a book from a nearby shelf. Tossing it in the closet onto the foot of her bed, he said, "Here. Try not to be too much of a pain in the ass until supper."
Then he shut the door.
Mercy sat down on the middle of her mattress on the floor and folded her hands in her lap. Her bare legs stretched out before her, she glanced around at the bare walls, then at the book on the folded up blanket. She reached sideways to pick it up. It was written in German. A brief flip through the pages revealed no illustrations.
She bit her bottom lip, looked at the door, and wondered how long it was until supper. By this time, some of the welts Boyden had given her had disappeared. Others, the thick plum-colored lines where he's struck her harder and more than once, still stung as she rolled onto her hip and crawled 66
Judgment II: Mercy
by Denise Hall
to the end of the mattress. Very hesitantly, she knocked at the bottom of the door.
There was an explosion of curses from the other side. A second or two later, the door swung open. Shipe glared at her.
Very meekly, Mercy held up the book. "I-I can't read this.
Do you have anything in English?"
His eyes narrowed and he growled. Then he took a quick glance at the bookshelves around the door of her closet. He swung a few steps away, then returned with a thick volume, which he dropped on the mattress next to her. The English title read, 'Basic German' . Shipe shut the door again.
Mercy chewed at her bottom lip for several long minutes.
Even more hesitantly than before, she again rapped two knuckles on the bottom of the door, and cringed when she heard the second volley of curses, longer and louder than before.
Shipe yanked the door open and, leaning one broad hand against the threshold, leaned in at her. "What?" he growled.
Mercy rubbed her hands together. "May I please use the bathroom?"
He
"Get in," he told her flatly. "This is where you'll stay when you're not working."
The door swung shut behind them and he swung across the room, past the fireplace and the bathroom, to a narrow door in the far wall.
"This is where you'll sleep," he said as he flung open the door.
The size of a spacious walk-in closet, it still made for a very small room. There was no window and the light from the ceiling could have in no way been mistaken for anything other than artificial fluorescence. Especially when it flickered, as it was doing now. The only article of furniture was the bed itself, a thin twin mattress that lay on the floor. No worse really than the room Richard had given Mahogany and China.
"Well," he said when she hesitated at the edge of the door.
"You want an engraved invitation?"
Fidgeting with the front of her pea green tunic, Mercy squeezed between him and the threshold and crept into the closet. She looked down at her bed on the floor. There was one pillow and a set of pressed sheets and a blanket folded neatly on the foot of the mattress.
"You've got six cuts coming to you," Shipe said. "You'll get them first thing after supper. Plus an extra two for your 65
Judgment II: Mercy
by Denise Hall
misplaced curiosity in the Pit. Depending on how irritated I am with you by then, I may or may not round the count to twelve. Questions, comments, complaints?"
She blinked back at him and gave a small shake of her head. "No, sir."
He grunted, then started to close the door. He almost had it latched before abruptly he swung it open again to glare at her again. "Lights out is at ten. I hear so much as a peep from in here and I'll take a layer of skin off your backside. Got it?"
Mercy attempted a small nod. "Y-yes, sir."
"You claustrophobic?" he asked.
"No, sir."
He turned his head, looking around him, then reached up to pluck a book from a nearby shelf. Tossing it in the closet onto the foot of her bed, he said, "Here. Try not to be too much of a pain in the ass until supper."
Then he shut the door.
Mercy sat down on the middle of her mattress on the floor and folded her hands in her lap. Her bare legs stretched out before her, she glanced around at the bare walls, then at the book on the folded up blanket. She reached sideways to pick it up. It was written in German. A brief flip through the pages revealed no illustrations.
She bit her bottom lip, looked at the door, and wondered how long it was until supper. By this time, some of the welts Boyden had given her had disappeared. Others, the thick plum-colored lines where he's struck her harder and more than once, still stung as she rolled onto her hip and crawled 66
Judgment II: Mercy
by Denise Hall
to the end of the mattress. Very hesitantly, she knocked at the bottom of the door.
There was an explosion of curses from the other side. A second or two later, the door swung open. Shipe glared at her.
Very meekly, Mercy held up the book. "I-I can't read this.
Do you have anything in English?"
His eyes narrowed and he growled. Then he took a quick glance at the bookshelves around the door of her closet. He swung a few steps away, then returned with a thick volume, which he dropped on the mattress next to her. The English title read, 'Basic German' . Shipe shut the door again.
Mercy chewed at her bottom lip for several long minutes.
Even more hesitantly than before, she again rapped two knuckles on the bottom of the door, and cringed when she heard the second volley of curses, longer and louder than before.
Shipe yanked the door open and, leaning one broad hand against the threshold, leaned in at her. "What?" he growled.
Mercy rubbed her hands together. "May I please use the bathroom?"
He
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