I headed home late and my eyelids were drooping. My body was beat from the toll of exertion and lack of nourishment. My weary vision blurred as I trudged toward my drudge house.
These exhaustive circumstances prevented me from seeing his figure slinking in the shadows. I was unaware of the monster lurking in the darkness. He was undoubtedly waiting for the perfect moment to strike. His venomous tongue sounded, alerting me to the direction of where he was hidden. A shadow emerged from obscurity.
He sneered, “Well, well, well...if it isn’t my future servant drudge, Analyssse.”
My blood chilled and I stopped dead in my tracks. Rykeir. I tried to stifle the frightful goosebumps he ignited. I grimaced as he approached, too afraid to move or speak and frozen with fear. His scar glinted in the moonlight.
He demanded, “Are you not going to addresss an elite ten, girl?”
He grabbed the front of my green shirt. He bunched the cloth in his furious fist. His breath reeked of excessive alcohol as he roughly pulled me closer. I attempted to thwart my rising terror, but my unsteady voice gave me away.
“Hello, Elite Ten Rykeir, sir.”
He bore into me with inflamed eyes and an unnerving madness. He brutally pushed me away from him. After being released from his menacing grasp, I anxiously departed for the drudge houses and rapidly increased my pace.
With a rising prickly sensation, it became obvious his stride matched mine. He was following me in the darkness of the night.
His snakelike tone slithered, “Now, Analyssse. There is no hurry to rush to your houssse.”
I pushed forward with more intensity. This miniscule act of impudence infuriated him and his voice grew impatient.
“I said there is no hurry, drudge!”
I pretended not to hear him and quickened my step. Dreaded footsteps preceded the violent grab of my hand. My powerless frame was forcefully pulled from the well-traveled road and wrestled to the ground. His massive figure was on top of me and the crazed expression in his face sent icy terror through my heart. I struggled to shove him upward or to turn to my side, but his strength overpowered mine.
In desperation I pleaded, “Please, let me go, sir. Please.”
Rykeir snickered, “Not until I get what I want from you.”
His disgusting, slithering mouth moved toward my neck. I strained to kick him, using as much strength as I could muster from my legs. I thrashed my body, attempting to connect a foot or knee with his only weak spot. My efforts diminished as fatigue from the day’s labor and lack of food overwhelmed my strength. Glimpsing his sickening scar, my dwindling energy went to clawing his face. Something awful momentarily entered my mind. Was the scar the result of a similar encounter with a poor, helpless girl in the past? The gut-wrenching probability invigorated my vitality and I commenced a surge of aggressive attacks.
Rykeir screamed, “Ssstop kicking me!!”
His expression twisted in violent anger. His clenched hand slammed against the bone nestled inside of my cheek. The intensity of the blow knocked me languid, and instant tears emerged. He repositioned his hold, resulting in an ironclad grip on my body. I squeezed my eyes closed. I hoped if I shut them tight enough, I could imagine myself from the living nightmare I was trapped in.
In a swift movement, Rykeir’s body was suddenly thrown from me. The vicious commotion of a struggle entered my senses. My eyes flew open and another figure came into view. The shadowed presence was punching Rykeir repeatedly in the face.
It was Jude!
Jude furiously shouted in Rykeir’s face, “Get away from her!”
In a fit of rage, he repeatedly bashed Rykeir’s horrible features. Due to his drunkenness and Jude’s furious blows, Rykeir’s balance was physically and mentally damaged.
I was so incredibly thankful for Jude, as he rescued me from an unthinkable fate.
Jude turned to me and yelled, “Ana! Get out of here. Now!”
His expression grew firm and serious. His features dared me to disagree with him. Jude’s control over Rykeir lapsed while he urged me to run. Rykeir steadied himself.
Jude implored, “I mean it, Ana. Get out of here!”
Jude’s proximity tugged at suppressed, but ardent devotion. Seeing him defend me, made me want to pull him closer. But it was imperative I escape this frightening situation and fast. I glanced into his pleading eyes once more. They reflected urgency and misery. Was part of his torment a result of being near me after so long? Was it as agonizingly difficult for him, as it was for me? However, overpowering his anguish was an urgent plea for me to flee.
He roared one last command, “Go!!”
I obeyed. I sprinted as swiftly as I could to the security of my drudge house.
Rykeir shrilled, “What is the matter with you, boy!? Get off of me!”
A subsequent struggle ensued, but I never ventured a backward glance. I desperately hoped Jude would be okay. I sobbed uncontrollably the entire way to the cleaning drudge house. When I made it to safety, I immediately showered the dirt and grime from my body. I wanted to remove the entire experience from my soul. I changed into clean clothes and laid anxiously awake on my cot. I was trembling with terror.
How many innocent girls were Rykeir’s victims? Drudges dealt with unjustified killings and endured brutal beatings every day. All of this was disturbingly unfair and repulsive!
I fretted over Jude’s actions. Rykeir would not harm Chief Meadows’s only son. But how would he be chastised? I would not have to work as late the next day and was grateful. I would hurry home with some sunlight as protection from lurking monsters. I would be on heightened alert, unceasingly on the lookout for Rykeir.
I fiercely yearned to visit with Jude and the sensation was overwhelming. I wanted to thank him personally. He saved me from what could have been a terrible fate. Yet in my unjust world, I would never be able to express my sincere gratitude because our friendship was forbidden. I attempted to sleep with uncontrolled sorrow and did not want to face another day.
The morning brought colorful bruising above my cheek bone. It caused a surplus of stares from other cleaning drudges. Brenna pestered me for answers incessantly, but I could not summon the courage or desire to express what happened.
I concocted a story of lies for Old Jake. I told a falsehood about a nasty fall on the stairs, while cleaning a firstling’s house. Otherwise, he would have been impossible to console. The tear-filled flood gates would have crashed open for me as well, so I refrained from conversation about the incident. I could scarcely replay the dreadful events in my mind, without emotion pooling in my eyes.
As soon as the day of labor was finished, I sprinted to the drudge houses. I was appreciative of the setting sun’s rays in my rush to safety. I was extra cautious of any firstlings in my vicinity and avoided crossing paths with Rykeir.
With relief, I fell onto my cot in a heap of fatigue and emotions. I had secretly hoped to catch a glimpse of Jude, if even in the distance. I wanted to silently greet him and mouth my gratitude. I sincerely appreciated his heroism. Unfortunately, I did not see him anywhere.
It was not unusual. I did not see him around Starosa often. I determined he was being cautious too, and avoiding the risk of more trouble after protecting me. It was against the law for both drudge and firstling to assault an elite ten.
Jude riotously defended a plain, unimportant drudge and this did make circumstances worse. With prickling panic, I surmised the consequences of Rykeir telling Chief Meadows. The result could be catastrophic. If Chief Meadows did not have an adequate reason to get rid of me before, he would have an abundant amount now.
I shivered beneath my issued blanket. It was a fitful night of sleep and I woke even more exhausted. Eventually, after an uneventful few days, I convinced myself everything must have been smoothed over. Jude and Rykeir obviously kept silent about the situation. I assumed relief, but would remain vigilant for any dangerous possibilities.
Brenna occupied me with more of the rumors circul
ating Starosa. On this occasion her news piqued my curiosity.
“Ana, guess who I saw crying in her dumb, circle of friends today?”
“Who?”
Brenna mocked a spoiled and wealthy firstling as she answered, “No other than Ms. Alexis Fairgood.”
I could not mask my instant and increased interest, and scooted closer to Brenna. Why would Jude’s fiancé be crying? Could he have broken off the engagement? My heart skipped with fleeting and unwarranted optimism.
I asked too quickly, “Really? Why was Alexis crying?”
Brenna tossed her speckled, blonde hair to the side and disparaged, “Who knows? It was mostly likely about not finding shoes to match her clothes.”
She giggled with a hint of disdain. Her response was not as satisfying as I had hoped. I wanted to hear something about Jude. I stifled my curiosity by chuckling at her animated joke.
“Yeah, you are probably right.”
Brenna casually declared, “Or it could have something to do with Jude Meadows.”
With the mention of his name, she regained my full attention. The question spilled out before I could catch it.
“Yeah, do you think so?”
Brenna shrugged nonchalantly, “Well, I don’t know. I mean have you seen Chief Meadows lately?”
I skimmed memories from the previous week. I generally strove to avoid Chief Meadows with the aspiration of prolonging my inevitable execution. An act I enforced more fervently after Jude rescued me from the repulsive Rykeir.
I responded, “No, I haven’t seen him recently.”
“Well, he looks miserable and like he hasn’t slept in days. The shaded misery under his eyes matches the color of night. His detached presence is extremely abnormal from the confident, ruthless ruler we are accustomed to.”
She leaned forward and lowered her tone before disclosing more.
“Also, the Chief’s wife was seen out of their house. She was with him, searching the community the other day. They were looking for what noticeably could not be found. Their dispositions were anxious and sad.”
It really was strange for Chief Meadows to appear worried or stressed. I never observed him portray any part, but arrogant and cruel. It was particularly out of the ordinary for his wife, Jude’s mom, to be out and about as well.
She typically kept to herself and her servants provided for her every whim and need. She was rarely seen outside her massive home. Unlike the Chief, it was typical for her to appear miserable.
I had only caught glimpses of her a handful of times in all my seventeen years of life. Jude confided in me that she regularly drifted through the halls of their home, in a confused and depressed state. During one of our many discussions, he mentioned she was a decent mother, but also distant and docile. Brenna’s news of Chief and Lady Meadows was shocking.
I affirmed, “Yeah, how unusual.”
I thought of Jude, his family, and of our many cherished conversations from the past. I unsuccessfully stifled brimming torture from conjuring memories of him and our secret meetings. I missed Jude…and his company, so severely. Nevertheless, he was getting married soon. He would be lost to me forever. I would never be able to speak to him again or repay him for everything he did for me. Brenna pulled me from my pocket of despair, oblivious to my anguish.
She exasperated, “Yeah, you are telling me! There are some bizarre happenings around Starosa lately!”
She shook her head incredulously and her speckled blonde hair bounced softly against her shoulders.
The morning bell rang and our intriguing chatter was put to an end. Begrudgingly, we made our way to Cornelia Fadflair to report for duty. Her current hair color was brown with blue stripes. Everything from her face to her shoes was glittering blue. I endeavored to entertain the idea of a life, where I had the leisure to execute such frivolities with my appearance. It was impossible to imagine.
In the evening, I visited Old Jake. We would be serving Remembrance Duty the next day. I was fulfilling the monthly obligation with him again. This pleased me, but he looked like he could hardly muster the strength to get out of his cot in the morning. Surviving twenty-four hours of exile seemed an impossible feat. Despite my anxiety for his survival, I made an immense effort to sound encouraging.
“At least it is almost summertide. We will not have to endure the freezing wind whipping our bodies, slicing through our clothes, and piercing our skin with icy vengeance.”
Old Jake was lying on his cot with his eyes closed. The corners of his mouth turned into a weak smile.
He mumbled, “Yes, Ana. Very true, very true.”
He did not say another word. It concerned me because he was normally optimistic. Maybe he was apprehensive about his ability to survive as well. He remained quiet and I supposed he must have fallen asleep. I turned to leave.
Old Jake faintly called out to me, “Ana, wait.”
I halted and asked, “Is everything okay?”
He admitted, “Ana, I do not think I am going to successfully endure this Remembrance Duty.”
His words constricted my chest and I entreated, “No, please do not say such things! You are going to be okay.”
My hopeful disputes, proceeded a horrendous coughing fit. By the time the tormenting onslaught ended, he appeared even more pale and frail.
He spoke gently, “Come here, child.”
I went to his side and he reached for my hand with long, bony fingers. His hands were weathered. His skin was so thin and transparent I could clearly see faded blue veins. The soft, white, and gray hairs on his knuckles sent nostalgia to my soul. I held sadness in my throat and sat on the edge of his cot. It was absurd to be concerned about breaking rules as he gently held my hand.
He softly expressed, “Something unexpected is going to happen on duty tomorrow. I am not sure what, but things will not be the same afterwards.”
Within his weak and sickly demeanor, I spotted a glint of hope in his features. His words were puzzling, but I dreadfully assumed he was referring to his possible demise. If he was alluding to his death, of course things would not be the same. They would never be the same. I did not want to consider a future without him in it. I already lost Jude forever. I could not bear to lose him too.
With a hoarse voice I responded, “Please, let’s not talk about this. Why don’t you get some much needed rest?”
I pulled away and muttered, “I will see you tomorrow.”
Old Jake squeezed my hand firmly and spoke, “Ana, things might be bad for a while. But you will have a better life ahead of you.”
Maybe Old Jake was losing his capacity for coherent judgements. A better life for a drudge was as unreachable as a falling star in the magnificent sky. I would be a cleaning drudge for my whole existence. I would never live the luxurious life of a firstling. The chance to indulge my intense love for learning would never be extended to me. It would always be prohibited to speak to the firstling occupying my thoughts more often than I preferred. Vigilantly being on the lookout for the disgusting Rykeir would fill my days and evenings. An improved future was a breath, lost in the wind.
I responded, “Yeah we will see, but for now I want you to rest.”
Old Jake did not possess the energy to argue and sluggishly closed his eyes. As I let go of his hand, the steady rise and fall of his chest indicated immediate surrender to sleep.
I spentthe rest of the night wallowing in disturbing and ominous anticipation. I speculated why I was able to go on Remembrance Duty with Old Jake again. Did Chief Meadows realize Zander and I would never fall for his conniving plan? Or perhaps, a worse fate was on the horizon. I compelled my racing skepticism to stop and attempted sleep.
Chapter 20
I struggled to keep Old Jake standing. We rested against our drudge house and awaited the arrival of the elite tens. I silently pleaded Rykeir would not be among them. As horses approached, discovering they carried the only elite tens married to one another calmed my nerves. Their names were Jess and Edward. The
y shared similar physical characteristics. Their shared traits included pale skin and whitish yellow hair. Even their brown eyes were similar hues of color. Jess and Edward were happily married and had peaceful dispositions. Warm relief at their presence, instantly turned to icy anxiety when I saw Zander chained behind their horses. My breath caught with shock. I still had Remembrance Duty with him too! Why!?
Old Jake’s company gave me a baseless glimmer of hope regarding my success. Hadn’t I convinced Chief Meadows of an underlying innocence? He would never find Zander and I sneaking around, breaking Starosa laws. We were not going to fall for his schemes.
I furtively entertained the notion of him no longer seeing me as a threat. In less than a month, his son was marrying the most beautiful firstling in Starosa. Surely, I was the least of his troubles now. Unfortunately, my highly anticipated hopes were mistaken. I still had Remembrance Duty with Zander. Old Jake was merely thrown in our lot. It was not unusual for three drudges to be on duty together, but something about the situation did not settle well. Did Chief Meadows have a sinister, ulterior motive for this arrangement? If so, the reasoning eluded me.
Fortunately, we were carefully dragged toward the buzzing gate of electricity. It was a blessing to have the most courteous of the elite tens pulling Old Jake. They went at a slower pace, keeping the old man from the point of collapse.
Jess and Edward chatted the entire jaunt and without a moment of silence. Their lives suggested perfection…beautiful home, gorgeous children, and magnificent positions of power. I could not help but experience a stab of envy at their happiness.
We were released for duty, uncuffed, and abandoned. The elite tens sauntered off. A disturbing quandary suddenly occurred to me. They did not distribute the knives we were regularly given for the occasion. It was alarming, but I stifled the unease by finding comfort in my companions for the next twenty-four hours. We looked at one another, unsure of what to say and suspecting something was not right.
The Forbidden Plan Page 14
