And hit hard. The girl's entire back and sides were slashed, and blood flowed. She screamed at the top of her lungs in pain.

  Julius felt sick and turned away. Yes, the customs here are wild. But soon, apparently, the whip will go through his muscular, tanned, sinewy back.

  Julius winced. After the pleasant warmth of the cobblestones of the pavement and courtyard heated in the sun, the boy's bare feet felt cold and damp inside the prison.

  Julius sang:

  Taganka, I am your permanent prisoner,

  Lost youth and talent...

  Within your walls!

  And the boy shuddered again involuntarily. He was immediately taken to the torture cellar. Executioners, as you know, do not tolerate downtime. Yes, and their work is not easy, sometimes you have to work hard around the clock.

  And depending on whom to torture. Not always come across beautiful girls and cute boys.

  The chief guard handed Julius over to the chief executioner. Judging by the groans and howls, there was a very intensive work.

  The chief executioner looked at Julius and remarked:

  - Good! Well, why are you here with us?

  The boy replied:

  - Never!

  The head guard said:

  - He pretended to be a count...

  Julius interrupted:

  - For the Marquis!

  The big warrior nodded.

  - Especially! And we suspect it's a spy! We need to knock out a confession and the names of accomplices from him.

  The executioner nodded in agreement.

  - It's clear! But we're busy right now. However, let's try the Spanish boots.

  The head guard confirmed:

  - I believe in your professionalism.

  The chief executioner remarked:

  - Spanish boot, this is a very painful torture. Maybe you can tell us who sent you here and for what purpose?

  Julius stated:

  - No one directed me. I am on my own.

  The chief tormentor nodded.

  - Get started!

  The executioner's assistants grabbed the boy and dragged him to a spiked steel chair. Since Julius would already be barefoot, they raised his rolled-up trouser leg a little higher and pulled up the device. He had to gradually squeeze the leg when turning the wheel.

  Having carefully fixed it, the executioner grinned carnivorously.

  Scribes were sitting in the hall, and they wrote down all the testimony. And also there was an inhuman howl that escaped from the throats of the tortured. Two of the scribes prepared to write down everything Julius had to say.

  The boy asked in annoyance:

  - Aren't you disgusted by what you do?

  The executioner logically remarked:

  - Everyone has their own job. The Goldsmiths don't like what they do either, but their work is also useful in its own way. So we, for example, also benefit by exposing spies like you!

  Julius confidently said:

  - I'm not a spy!

  The executioners nodded.

  - That's what we'll find out now. We will interrogate you with passion, and you will tell us everything.

  A woman with fiery red hair approached them and, setting an hourglass, said:

  - Since he is not yet fifteen - the age of majority, then you can torture him only at the time when the sand is pouring in the clock.

  The executioner remarked:

  "Maybe he"s already fifteen. The muscles are cast!

  The redhead nodded.

  - Quite possible! But in this case, let there be a sparing regime. I myself will spin the wheel so as not to break the child's bones.

  The executioner confirmed:

  - Yes, you are a great specialist in torturing jerks. But still, practice shows - a cruel method, and there is the most effective!

  The red-haired woman, instead of answering, twirled the bolster of a Spanish boot. Julius felt the metal squeeze his foot. In addition, the spikes of the chair through the thin shirt unpleasantly pricked the back.

  The woman executioner kindly asked:

  Are you hurt, my boy?

  Julius honestly replied:

  - A little!

  The redhead smiled wickedly.