Chapter 21-The Torture
The cold water splashed on his face, as he opened his eyes, still groggy, looking around trying to adjust to the pitch darkness in the dark and gloomy chamber, bar for the flickering torches casting ghostly shadows. Ramalinga Nayaka, the once proud warrior, now stripped down to a soiled dhoti, the welts from the whip lashes, covering his bare back, hands bound by long chains of iron to the walls, and feet bound in fetters.
As he saw the silhouette emerging in the shadows, and his face emerging in the flickering torch lights, he recoiled in disgust. The puffed up face, the thick drooping moustache, pudgy lips, eyes that radiated only evil, as he rubbed his thick puffed up palms, with a devilish grin, Bukappa, the jailor in charge of Penukonda. If evil ever had a face, if the mere mention of a name bought in nightmares to any one, with the tales of his horrific treatment given to hapless prisoners.
From tearing their innards apart to whipping them until they collapse, or making them stand barefoot on the rocks in the hot sun, till their soles burnt. And his unquenchable lust for young women, woe be the damsel on whom he had set his evil eyes, she was to be carried away to his sprawling mansion for satiating his wanton pleasure. And he got away with it all, being well connected to the Governor of Chandragiri, who in turn was related to Rayalavaru.
The eyes gleamed with a vicious sadism, as he grinned, showing off a pair of yellowish decaying teeth, the foul odour emanating from him, adding to the stench all around.
“My my, the greatest warrior of Vijayanagara in such a state. My heart aches with pain to see you in such a state, bearing all this indignity”
Ramalinga, just looked back at him, burning with rage, at the casual, mocking tune of the despicable oaf.
“Why do you subject yourself to this indignity, why not confess to your crime? I shall ensure you shall be released with a lesser sentence”.
Not a word from Ramalinga, only the fury in his eyes, as gathering all the strength he could, spit angrily in the face of Bukappa. Wiping off the saliva dripping from his face, he bellowed furiously
“Convicts should never be so impudent, any one else, I would have beheaded him, but not you Ramalinga”, as he bellowed, wiping off the dripping saliva from his face, clapping hands loudly.
Ramalinga felt a hard metal on his back, and then the feeling of his flesh being ripped apart, the blood trickling down. The deadly tiger claws, that could rip out the innards of any opponent, were tearing his back apart, as the blood gushed out in a torrent falling in a pool, the skin peeling off. Wincing in pain, the screams of anguish echoed in the darkness of the prison, as he could not even escape the vicious assault on his dignity, with hands and feet bound in chains.
The howls of laughter by Bukappa and the guards around, made him feel like a caged beast, being prodded for the enjoyment of its captors. And the red-hot chilli powder mixed with salt, being rubbed on his wounds, that seared and burnt even more.
The tiger was caged and the jackals around were enjoying its ordeal.
"Narasimha Swamy, my father, what sin have I committed in my past life to go through such an ordeal."
Lesser humans would have perished under the gruesome assault, but this was the body of a warrior that had borne so many wounds on the battle field.
"Ramalinga, my heart pains to see you go through this ordeal, why do you not confess and seek a pardon, I shall personally release you".
And for the first time, Ramalinga’s voice rang out clear in the chambers of the cell
“You are playing with the tiger in his cage, Bukappa, do not even make the mistake of letting it out, it will just pounce on you and tear you apart in a way, that will make you regret your very existence”
Bukkappa's face contorted into a rage, his thick lips rolling up
"Brand this impudent fellow with the red hot iron, and throw him into his cell, at the first hour of noon he shall hang by neck till dead. "
As he saw the red molten hot rods glowering in the darkness, as he closed his eyes
"Virupaksha, grant me the strength to bear this ordeal"
The feel of the flesh melting away, as the red hot irons, burn into his skin, across his chest, as he clenched his fists, letting out agonized scream, wincing helplessly his hand and feet bound in chains.
The pains on his body, though were no match for what he was feeling inside, of being betrayed, of being wrongly accused for a crime he never had committed. Those physical scars would heal someday, but the scars of betrayal within would never. Those who were responsible for this would pay, which is why he had put up with every indignity thrust on him.