Circle Nine: Round Two (Continued) and Round Three

I asked the sinner what made him gnaw on his neighbor.

The sinner on top raised his head from its downward position and wiped his bloody jaw off on the other sinner's matted hair and fleshy scalp. The nape of the victim was worn away completely. It was mush just sliding down onto the ice. It had not been consumed.

The man spoke with grief in his voice. He explained that, in life, he was Count Ugolino. The one he chewed on was the Archbishop Ruggieri. He wanted my judgement on their situation. Which caused me to wonder if he was a religious man or not. If he was it confused me as to why he wasn't respecting God's judgement. But was it easy to respect someone who put you somewhere so miserable? But then again, he put himself here.

Ugolino was imprisoned by the Archbishop for many years along with his sons. He told me this story:

"We usually were given our dinner at a certain hour. Instead of being greeted by the clatter of dishes, we heard hammers. Someone was nailing up the gate at the base of our tower. I couldn't weep. I couldn't let my sons see my fear. Whatever hope they might have would be imperative to keep them going.

I began to absentmindedly nibble on my hands and fingertips. My skin started to peel around my disappearing nails. They were slowly transforming into bloody stumps. This nervous habit was interpreted by my boys as hunger.

They told me that I should consume them.

Sparing them was my only thought though. Then a day passed-- still without food. My eldest boy begged with me, telling me to eat him so that he didn't have to see me suffer and so that his suffering would also end. He died on the floor in front of me that night. Overcome with hunger, each son passed away while I was forced to listen to them cry with hunger.

At this point, I was blind. I began to crawl from body to body. I tried to shake them and scream to them in order to wake them. They never rose. I called out to them for two days. Eventually, hunger was the only thing I could feel. Grief had disappeared..."

The sinner lunged at his meal once again. The story had renewed his anger at his captor. I was full of disgust. The poor sons should never have faced such tortures.

I felt a wind blow as we continued toward the center of the ice and asked my master about its origins. He told me that I would soon be able to see the source for myself. I wondered if another whirlwind of sorts awaited me.