Showing posts with label torture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label torture. Show all posts

Wednesday, 14 November 2012

A bullet did that



      “Are you sick, farangi? Why do you look away? Does the sight of blood distress you?” I looked up to find the bodyguard leaning on his spear; Portly was off on a frolic of his own, seemingly. “Nay, surely not; you have seen your own blood run from a wound.” He pointed to the star-shaped scar on my hand. “A bullet did that.”
      “A clean wound is one thing soldier,” says I, and nodded towards the Ladies’ De-ballocking Circle. “That is another.”


Flashman on the March, pp.186-7, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.


Tags: , , .

Thursday, 16 August 2012

Little by little



A land of mystery and terror and cruelty, and the loveliest women in all Africa . . . a smiling golden nymph in her little leather tunic, teasing me as she sat by a woodland stream plaiting her braids . . . a gaudy barbarian queen lounging on cushions surrounded by her tame lions . . . a tawny young beauty remarking to my captors: “If we feed him into the fire, little by little, he will speak . . .”
       Aye, it’s and interesting country, Abyssinia.


Flashman on the March, p.14, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.


Tags: , , .

Thursday, 18 August 2011

True words





…the only fly in the ointment as I rolled down to Calcutta had been the discovery that during my absence from England some scribbling swine had published his reminiscences of Rugby School, with me as the villain of the piece. A vile volume entitled Tom Brown’s Schooldays, on every page of which the disgusting Flashy was to be found torturing fags, shirking, toadying, lying, whining for mercy, and boozing himself to disgraceful expulsion — every word of it true, and all the worse for that.


Flashman and the Angel of the Lord, p.23, Harper Collins, 1995.



Tags: , , .

Wednesday, 21 July 2010

Tartan carpets



she suddenly accused a young nobleman of being a secret Christian . . . there and then he was submitted to ordeal . . . they boiled up a cauldron of water . . . he tried to snatch coins out of the bubbling pit, plucking and screaming while the rest of us tried not to be sick . . .
      Not quite what we’re accustomed to at Balmoral, you’ll agree, but at least Ranavalona didn’t go in for tartan carpets.

Flashman's Lady, p.239, Pan edition, 1979.



Tags:, , .

Thursday, 24 December 2009

Tedious conversation



    ‘If you think you were tortured, Colonel Flashman,’ says he, poker-faced. ‘then I congratulate you on your ignorance.’ He put down his cup. ‘I find this conversation tedious. ‘If you will excuse me,’ and he turned away.
    ‘Oh, sorry if you’re bored,’ says I. ‘I was forgetting – you probably haven’t cut a throat or burned a peasant in a week.’



Flashman in the Great Game, p.46, Pan edition, 4th printing, 1979.




Tags:
, ,, .

Tuesday, 6 January 2009

A leader you can trust



   ‘Turn back, sir! We can’t leave Kirk behind!’
   ‘Can’t we by God?’ growls Spring. ‘You just watch me, mister. If the bastard can’t run, that’s his look-out!’
    Spoken like a man, captain, thinks I; give me a leader you can trust any day. and even Comber, his face contorted with pain , could see it was no go; they were swarming on the bank, and had Kirk spreadeagled; we could see them wrenching his clothes off, squealing with laughter, while close by a couple of them hade even started kindling a fire. They were smart housewifely lasses those, all right.



Flash For Freedom!, p.84, Pan edition, 8th printing, 1980.




Tags:
, ,.

Wednesday, 1 October 2008

A good horseman?



I’m not justifying myself, either for torturing him or killing him, for I don’t need to. Both had to be done – but I’m honest enough to admit I enjoyed doing both. He was a good horseman though.



Royal Flash, p.185, Pan edition, 8th printing, 1978.




Tags:
, .