Tales of Terror by Les Martin

Author:Les Martin [Martin, Les]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-75897-2
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2010-11-10T05:00:00+00:00

“You are condemned to death!”

I heard no more. Not how I was to die. Nor when. Nor where.

I already knew why I was to die. I was an agent of France. The new France. The France of the Revolution. The France of Napoleon. The France that wanted to free all Europe from the chains of the past.

And this was Spain, where the king hated France and freedom. And where the Church hated them even more.

The Holy Inquisition was the unholy weapon of that hate. I sat before its judges. Their robes were jet-black. Their faces were deathly white. Their thin lips seemed as white as the paper I now write upon. I saw no pity on those faces. I watched their white lips moving.

“You are condemned to death.”

As I said, I heard no more. Not even my name. I felt sick. Sick as death. I looked away from those white faces. Those white lips. I gazed at the candles on the judges’ table. Seven tall white candles. They seemed to turn into slender white angels. Angels who would save me. Then that picture faded. And I saw only the cruel flames.

I did not see them long. Those flames vanished. Vanished into blackness. I had fainted. Fainted dead away.

I was dead to the world. It was like sleep. Dreams came and went. Some pleasant. Others nightmares. Some filled with people and places I knew. Others with things I had never seen before. Some bright with hope. Others dark with despair.

Then the dreams stopped. All was blackness and silence. Except for a single sound. My heart beating.

I was awake. But my mind was empty. And my eyes were shut tight.

I was afraid to open my eyes. I was afraid even to think.

But thoughts came on their own. Memories.

I remembered being captured. I was tied up hand and foot. I was taken to the city of Toledo. The fortress of the Inquisition.

I remembered the joke of a trial. The black-robed judges. Their white lips moving.

“You are condemned to death.”

But what happened to me after that?

I dreaded to see what might be around me. At last I forced my eyes open. And saw—nothing.

I was in blackness darker than any night. Blackness that pressed down like a heavy weight.

A horrible thought struck me. The Inquisition burned most of its victims at the stake. Quickly. Without delay.

Yet here I was. Where, I did not know. But I did know one thing. I was still alive.

But did they know? Or had they made a mistake? Had they buried me alive?

Cold sweat covered me. It stood in little beads on my forehead. What if I lay in my own tomb? I was afraid to find out. Yet I had to.

I rose to my feet. I was still afraid to take a step. Instead I waved my arms wildly around me in every direction. They touched nothing. If this was a tomb, at least it was large.

I slowly moved forward. My eyes felt as if they would pop out of my head.

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