Arya rides into Town

A girl dangles

"Who are you?" Lord flowers prodded Arya's stomach, his fingers riding up the smooth naked flesh between exposed breasts.

Arya looked him in the eye but remained silent.

"You've caused me a lot of trouble," his touch moved across onto one of her breasts before taking a nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

She kept his gaze. Maintained her silence.

The twisted squeeze sent lightning strikes of pain through her chest. Arya grimaced, swallowing back the urge to cry out.

He kept up the pressure. "It would be a shame to spoil such an exquisite body. But my disfigured friend here is an expert in such matters."

Arya eased herself into a calm mental state and accepted the pain, fighting back the anger; the urge to act. Keeping focused, Arya flicked her eyes at the old woman. The witch licked her cracked, flaking lips as she watched Lord's Flowers pinching firm round breasts.

"Who sent you girl?" Lord Flowers switched nipples, pausing a moment to give her a respite from the pain. Arya knew the trick. Let her recover a little, so her body didn't become numb to the abuse. "Who are you?"

She forced her jaw to relax. Calculated the chances of her taking them both down before the guard intervened. Lord Flowers would be easy, but she didn't know what powers the old woman might have.

Her gaze returned to the Lord. His cruel black eyes locked with hers and looked surprised at her defiance.

Stepping back, Lord Flowers turned to the torturer. "A few lashes to soften her up."

"Be a pleasure, my Lord." The disfigured wretch stepped into the light and revealed three lengths of thin leather dangling from his short wooden staff.

"Wait." The witch moved between the two men and Arya. Even cloaked in blood-red robes the crooked outline of her fragile body was visible. She pressed her withered face against Arya's naked body, sniffing bare skin like a dog inspecting a potential mate. Starting at Arya's neck, the woman inhaled the assassin's scent all the way down her stomach, pausing for a moment at the expound mound between her legs. Arya gritted her teeth as she felt the nose of the hideous creature rub against the lips of her sex.

"She's a fresh one," the red witch kept sniffing as she circled the prisoner. "There is power in her blood. Not a virgin but, none of the others has such power. She could be who we need."

"But who is she?" The Lord said.

"I'll loosen her tongue." The torturer raised his lash, an eager grin on his ugly face.

"No," Lord Flowers shook his head. "We may need her undamaged." He glanced towards the sobbing young girl strapped into the chair. "That one can be damaged as much as you like."

"I'll string her up too." The torturer grinned, overcoming his disappointment at not getting the chance to dish out his own brand of agony on the dangling nude woman.

"No." Arya finally broke her silence.

"No, my Lord." The torturer gave her a whack across her backside with the wooden end of the lash. Caught by the surprising speed of the blow, Arya gave a muffled yelp. She imagined the pain was a fraction of what the torturer would unleash on Lisa if left unchecked.

Her plan to take down Lord Flowers, while always risky, was unravelling at a rapid pace. The presence of the old woman and Lisa added complications Arya struggled to see a solution to.

The witch seeing a use for an unharmed Arya gave her hope. She remembered Gendry had been taken by Melisandre because of his strong royal blood. A Stark might not have been in the same league as a Baratheon, but it could be enough to keep Arya alive long enough to make a difference.