Once tasks were delegated, the knights prepared to march back to report to the Lord. A few volunteered to stay behind to protect us and bury people that were killed during the raid of the goblins. The one who left were taking the goblin corpses and a few rescued victims with them as witnesses for interrogation and investigation.
We stayed in our ruined vilge, taking temporary shelter in the church—the only structure left standing. The church where used to be a pce for people to gather and pray together now turned into a wreck, but at least it kept out the wind, rain, and the cold of the night. Under our care, a few women woke up that evening, including Martha. Panic, fear, and trauma clung to them, manifesting in sudden screams and violent thrashing whenever anyone tried to approach.
Martha woke up and just sat there, curled into a ball, hiding her face and sobbing uncontrolbly. She refused any contact with anybody in the church. Only when I reached for her, comforted her for hours, she suddenly threw her arms around me and wept, eyes flooded with tears. She began to tell us what happened inside that dark cave or rather it was hell.
THEY HAD ALL BEEN VIOLATED BY THOSE GOBLINS.
"They dragged us to the cave, pulling us along like some kind of trophies" Martha choked out. "After dragging us inside the cave, they gathered us in a dark, sting room.Then, despite our begging, they ripped our clothes off one by one. Margery fought back... she grabbed a rock and smashed one of their skulls in. In their rage, they... they..."
"What did they do to Margery?" I shook Martha, hot tears streaming down my face, my throat tight.
"They killed her. They used their cws and sharped teeth to rip away her flesh, piece by piece. The only thing I can hear is Marthery screaming in agony. After Martha was nothing but a lifeless, soaked shell, they strung her body up on a pole, showing us as an example for what will happen if you dare to rebel against them. Her corpse must still be inside that hell"
We held each other and cried. My parents heard the story too. What had we done to deserve such brutal punishment?
The next morning, I ask my dad to find Marthery's corpse inside that cave, bury her properly and pray for her. After receiving his agreement, we go together into that cave. One of my arms holds the torch, the other hand steadily a sharp knife, ready to defend myself if anything happens.The cave was clear, there y some lifeless goblins corpses. I gnce at them with a sight of absolute disgust after knowing what they did. And after some turning, we see a small room. The air inside it was thick and foul, suffocating us with the metallic stench of dried blood and goblin filth. Here still, the body of my best friend Marthery, being hung on a stake. The knights don't even care for her after they leave. I vomit, my tears that I thought have been drained from yesterday now begin to raise in my eyes. I hug my father, cry loudly. Just the other day, she was pying, talking with me …
My father carried her body out. I helped him bury a grave near her parents, using 2 wooden boards, tie them together to make a simple cross. I hand-carved: "Here y the brave Marthery. Hope you find peace in heaven". We start praying for her soul to live a happy and peaceful life in heaven with others. After a while, we came back to the church. Others woke up, but the same lifeless, terrified looks remained in their eyes. "We cannot stay here anymore," my father announced.
"But where will we go? There are no houses left. And all the men are dead."
"We will take these women to the town, try to arrange food for them, and with any luck, a pce to stay. Although I don't have much hope that the town will help them, the fact that this pce isn't for living anymore makes us leave immediately."
Taking everyone to a strange pce and telling them to fend for themselves was basically a death sentence. But what else could we do? We couldn't rely on that Lord, there were no men left to protect us, and those knights standing over there certainly weren't the answer. After my father pleaded with the knights to escort the women to town, we departed.
Martha came with us. Our wagon was now empty of belongings, as we had left everything at an inn in town. The hole my father dug had paid off; the savings my parents had scraped together their whole lives were now saving our lives—and Martha's too instead of being burnt together with the whole vilge. This would be a good starting point, or at least it was what we thought.
Once in town, the victims were taken to poorhouses, while Martha stayed with our family. This town seems to not welcome any strangers like us. The poorhouse is like a slum house but with nuns and a rooftop. It's nothing like a pce for living, just a temporary shelter for indigent ones. Fortunately, my resourceful father quickly won over a local carpentry shop and started working there. My mother took a temporary job at a wool mill. To save on lodging, only Martha and I shared a room, taking care of each other. My parents decided to be on-site workers to save as much money as possible. Even though they were only three streets away, I could rarely see my parents. But at least, Martha and I can be together. That may give me a chance for me to help her overcome that disgusting experience.
