Christopher Nuttall - Ragnarok

It was impossible to tell. She knew just what horrors awaited prisoners, but she found it hard to believe that the SS guards in Germanica were so undisciplined that they would rape a prisoner without permission. And yet… she couldn’t help feeling relief, clinging to Katharine like a drowning man would cling to a lifejacket. But had the whole incident been set up to make her cling to Katharine? She had no way to know.

She cursed under her breath as Katharine pulled her panties back into position, then helped Gudrun to walk slowly towards the door. It was hard, so hard, to walk with a chain wrapped around her ankles. If Katharine hadn’t been holding her, she would have fallen over several times. And yet… what was Katharine doing? Where were they going?

It was a relief to be out of the cell, but the interior of the building wasn’t particularly reassuring. She couldn’t help remembering the interior of the first prison she’d visited — and her old school, which had probably been designed by the same person. Grey walls, solid metal doors… no signs on the walls, let alone paintings or anything else that would give the building personality. It was completely soulless… she shivered, again, as they reached an elevator and stepped inside. The air was, if anything, growing colder. It was all she could do to keep her teeth from chattering.

She hadn’t wanted to talk to Katharine, but she couldn’t help herself. “Where are we going?”

The older woman gave her a cold look. “Someone wants to see you.”

Gudrun winced as the elevator came to a halt. She had a nasty feeling she knew precisely who they were going to see. The doors hissed open, revealing a carpeted hallway leading down to a pair of heavy wooden doors. She stepped gingerly out of the elevator, silently relieved to walk on something other than cold stone; Katharine helped her down the corridor, snarling at her whenever she looked left or right. And yet, Gudrun couldn’t help herself. The walls were decorated in portraits of the honoured dead, all looking too handsome and muscular to be real. She caught sight of a man who looked like Horst, drawn against a burning panzer and wondered, suddenly if he was a relative. Horst had never said much about his father, merely that he’d died in the wars…

Two SS stormtroopers stood guard outside the doors, their eyes barely flickering over Gudrun as she approached. They didn’t even seem to be aware that she was practically naked! She felt a sudden flicker of anger as Katharine spoke to the guards, realising that she’d been right all along. The guards who had dragged her out of her cell had been acting, giving Katharine an opportunity to play the hero… she pushed the thought aside, sharply, as the doors opened to reveal the largest office she’d ever seen. A single wooden desk was positioned at the far end, a man she recognised from his photographs sitting behind it. And seventeen men were standing against the wall, staring at her.

Gudrun had to fight to keep from cringing. She’d been brought here — chained up, almost nude — to humiliate her in front of the men. Karl Holliston, sitting behind the desk, had planned the whole thing. He didn’t think of women as fit for anything, save for being mothers, daughters and housewives. Exposing her was merely the first step towards undermining everything she’d done. It would be hard for any of the men to respect her after they’d seen her in such a fallen state…

She shivered. Two years ago, a girl she’d known — vaguely — had been expelled after allowing her boyfriend to take nude photographs of her. Gudrun and her girlfriends had been horrified. How could she have allowed her boyfriend to take photographs that might — easily — fall into the wrong hands? No one had ever looked at her the same way again. In the end, she’d emigrated to Germany South, where all that mattered was the right bloodline and the ability to bear children. Gudrun had no idea what had happened to the poor girl after that.

Katharine pushed her forward, gently. Gudrun braced herself, stood as firmly as the chains would allow and began to walk towards the desk. The watching men made no sound, no catcalls nor expressions of pity; they just watched as she stepped forward. Holliston’s face twisted oddly as he studied her, his expression dark and cold. Gudrun shivered, despite herself. Holliston wasn’t interested in anything, but power. He’d do anything to keep it.

She came to a halt and stared at him, forcing herself to meet his eyes. She’d met enough powerful men — her father had always seemed all-powerful to her — to know that open defiance was rarely welcomed. Neither her father nor her male teachers had been pleased when she’d talked back to them, although — in all honesty — her mother and her female teachers had been pretty much the same. Hell, it had been harder to predict what would set her mother off…

“Gudrun,” Holliston said. His voice was very cold. “Battle-maiden.”

Gudrun felt a hot flash of anger. Only Konrad had ever called her that, back when they’d been getting to know one another. He’d said it to tease her…

“You could have borne the Reich many strong sons,” Holliston continued. “Instead, you chose to bring it down.”

It was hard to keep the smirk off her face, despite the danger. Holliston and his ilk had never considered that a mere woman could be dangerous. Hell, Gudrun had been eighteen when Konrad had been wounded. Old enough to marry, old enough to bear children, but not old enough to be considered a responsible adult. She’d practically been a minor child, as far as the law was concerned; she’d certainly enjoyed no greater rights at eighteen than at eight. But then, Holliston probably needed a woman to be a grandmother before he started taking her seriously…

She threw caution to the winds. “The man I was going to marry was wounded in one of your wars,” she said. There was no point in trying to hide it. She’d told the story often enough that it had probably reached Germanica by now. “And you didn’t even have the decency to tell us what had happened to him.”

Holliston showed no visible reaction to her words. “Your boyfriend gave his life in defence of civilisation,” he said. “You betrayed him.”

Gudrun felt another surge of anger. That comment stung . Konrad would not have approved of her standing up to the Reich . He’d been a loyal SS stormtrooper. And she’d married Horst…

“He didn’t die,” she said. “You kept him alive, unable to heal him and unable to just let him go. You betrayed him.”

She forced her voice to harden. “You betrayed everyone .”

“And you betrayed the Reich ,” Holliston countered. “Or have you forgotten the oath you swore every day at school? And when you joined the BDM?”

“I forgot nothing,” Gudrun said. He had a point, she had to admit. She’d been swearing loyalty long before she’d actually known what the words meant . “But the Reich betrayed its citizens first.”

She leaned forward, almost overbalancing and falling over. “Konrad was your ideal ,” she said. “Brave and bold, blonde and strong; I could have been happy as his wife, bearing his children and bringing them up while he fought to defend the Reich . But instead he was killed in an unwinnable war and you didn’t even have the decency to admit what happened to him.

“And if that is what you will do to Konrad,” she added, “what will you do to everyone who does not come up to scratch? Your stormtroopers killed young men in Germany Prime, they raped and abused young women. How can you claim to be fighting for the Volk when you abuse it?”