by Jeff Gunzel
To her, the accompanying shot glass filled with warm water was the most precious part of the meal. She savored it slowly, taking only the tiniest of sips to help make it last. The first night she downed her portion in one swallow, then suffered horribly before they finally brought her another with the next round of rancid food. A harsh lesson was learned that day.
Today would be no different. Driving hunger being her only tool to estimate the time, her stomach rumbled, reminding her that a poor meal would be slid under her door at any moment. She tugged at her itchy collar while waiting, finding the thing to be unbearable as of late. A sweaty rash had formed around her neck—she was unable to remember the last time she’d bathed. One hour passed, followed by a second, then a third. Her stomach roiled, burning acid building up in search of any kind of sustenance. She promised herself she would even eat the mold this time when her tray finally came.
Alone in the dark with nothing but her thoughts, she couldn’t help but think of her friends. Had they been captured too? Were they sitting in other cells dealing with the same hardships she was? No, that was unlikely. She was the one they wanted, not the humans, and now they had her thanks to Jarlen’s betrayal. But despite her anger towards him, all she could think about was how much she missed everyone. By now they had surely given up looking for her. She couldn’t blame them, really. She wasn’t one of them, so why would they continue their search? Her most recent act of defiance had most certainly lost their trust. She was alone now, the way it was always meant to be.
She thought of Liam, the way he always scolded her like a daughter. The sisterly bond she and Thatra shared. Owen’s dirty jokes that always made her laugh, even when she was trying not to. Xavier... Oh, how she missed him. She had betrayed him in every way possible. I’m so sorry I ever doubted you. I know you’ve forgotten me by now. I hope you find someone who makes you happy.
At the point where hunger was nearly driving her to tears, a shadow drifted past, stopping in front of her door. Relieved to finally be fed, she crawled towards the door without giving it much thought. She would eat a rat if they pushed one through. Fingers inching forward, she stopped just short of the stripe of light. Why hadn’t she heard anything? Every other time someone had walked through that hall, she had heard the clopping of boots long before the shadow passed by her door. Clearly, there was someone standing there, but she hadn’t heard a sound.
A feeling of dread staving off the burning hunger, she inched away from the door. Creeping backward on all fours, she moved as silently as she could. A childish logic tugged at her mind, promising her he would go away if she just remained quiet. Every breath thundered in her ears, her heartbeat hammering in her chest. Still, the shadow of two feet stood perfectly still outside her door, as if waiting for something. Backed all the way into the corner, Viola covered her head, pressing her face into her knees. Go away. Please, just go away.
The lock rattled briefly, followed by the sound of the heavy bolt sliding up from its hinge. Terror rose in her chest. She shut her eyes, covering her face with both hands as the door creaked open. Blinding light blasted her face. Sensitive eyes that hadn’t seen light in days burned as she rubbed them, trying to blink through the sheet of white. “Who’s there?” she asked, shielding her eyes, trying to squint through it. “What do you want?”
She felt foolish upon thinking about all the time spent wishing someone would come for her. And now that someone had, she longed to return to her dark solitude once more. The form of a man appeared in the doorway as she blinked against the white haze. Tall, almost as tall as Liam, he wore red robes and a red-and-black swirled mask. Looming like some dark specter, he beckoned her towards him with a curled finger. She closed her eyes again, hands covering her ears as she adamantly shook her head back and forth. His curled finger flipped over and he opened his palm.
An explosion of white-hot pain surged through her body. Dropping straight onto her back, she twitched and flopped uncontrollably. Eyelids fluttering, mouth foaming, her senses had blocked out everything else. She didn’t know where she was, what her name was; the only thing that was real was the searing pain surging through every inch of her body. A faint, still-grounded portion of her mind questioned how she could still be alive. This blinding sensation was almost certainly what falling into a meat grinder must feel like. An explosion of pain, immediately followed by death. But she didn’t die, and the pain was ongoing, unrelenting. She was about to go mad!
When the masked figure lowered his hand, she gasped, eyes shooting open as if she had been doused with icy cold water. After a final jerk, her trembling body went still. Staring up at the ceiling as if seeing it for the first time, tears flowed down the sides of her face. What was that? What just happened? Confused, terrified, she had just endured the worst pain she had ever felt. She should have been dead—paralyzed, at least. But strangely, there were no lingering physical effects. The pain was completely gone, but the agonizing memory of it remained very much at the front of her mind.
She rolled onto her stomach, blurry vision trying to focus on the man in red. Again, he curled his finger at her. When she hesitated, he opened his palm a second time. “No!” she shrieked, her body already beginning to move on its own. She squirmed across the floor, her forearms dragging the rest of her body like a worm. She was terrified of this man, yet far more frightened of the pain. The choice was an easy one.
He reached down and snatched a handful of hair, then lifted her off the ground with surprising strength. Fully erect, she rose up on her toes to help relieve some of the pressure on her scalp. Rotating his wrist, he seemed to be inspecting her like a fresh slab of meat. Satisfied, he released her hair. Dropping his hands to her shoulders, he ripped the worn rags right down her body in a single motion. Practically rotted, they tore away easily, leaving Viola completely naked. She sunk a hand down between her legs, the other folding across her breasts to cover herself. It was all like a bad dream. How could this be happening?
Reaching behind his back, the masked figure slung a white tunic that smacked her in the chest before fluttering down to her feet. With no hesitation, Viola snatched it off the ground and began to step into it. The clean, soft fabric felt wonderful against her filthy skin. The sturdy clothing was certainly a far cry from the rotted rags she had been wearing for so long.
The masked figure sidestepped the door, pointing from the room. She dipped her shoulder and slipped past him to go stand in the hallway. Standing beside wide-open cell doors were other prisoners, each wearing the same white tunic she had on. Heads up, backs flat against the stone, they stood in silence with vacant stares, eyes fixed on the opposite wall. Not needing to be told, Viola rushed to the end of the line and placed her back against the wall, copying the stance of the others. Viola’s appearance earned her more than a few second glances from people who had never seen such a creature as her.
Soldiers appeared at both ends of the hall. The first tapped his sword against the stone floor to get their attention, then began barking instructions for them to follow. With armed soldiers at the front and back, the line of prisoners were led up a stairwell and out through a back door. There in the middle of the dirt road were three caged carts, each attached to two heavy workhorses. Seeing the prisons on wheels, Viola was reminded of the first time she saw Jarlen. She knew what this meant and where they must be going.
They were being taken to the pit...
*
Liam paced back and forth in front of the mirror in his room. Despite the old man’s perfectly straight back, he purposely hunched while practicing a walk in which he favored one leg. Given his substantial height, playing the part of a helpless old man was going to be difficult.
The plan was to start collecting information from anywhere it could be found. Barmaids, soldiers who might have had too much to drink, and even former convicts who might loosen their lips at the promise of a few coins would all be perfect targets. In Liam’s experience, people felt most at ease when speaking with someone t
hey regarded as harmless or even weak. If that was the part he needed to play, then so be it. He and the others were willing to do whatever it took to get Viola back safe and sound.
A relentless hammering at his door broke his concentration. “Liam!” came the frantic shout from the hall. “Liam, come quick!” Unaccustomed to hearing the warrior so shaken, he grabbed his staff and raced for the door. The moment he flung it open, Thatra lunged through, nearly knocking him over. Snatching him by the collar, she pulled him out into the hall. Hooking the door with his foot, he just managed to close it before being led away.
“Thatra, what is happening? Where are we going?” Liam asked, stumbling down the steps while trying to keep up. At the front of the inn were several people blocking the entrance, all gawking and pointing in the street. A heavy shoulder from Thatra made short work of troublesome humans, sending then stumbling to either side. Liam marched behind her, ignoring their complaints. Stopping in the street to stand next to her, his heart sank. “No,” he whispered to himself, watching the oncoming wagons roll towards them.
All alone in the middle cage, Viola was curled up in a ball, covering her head as vegetables and the occasional rock came hurtling towards the cage. The bars intercepted most of the projectiles, but her eyes burned from the juice and fragments sprayed as cabbages and old apples burst on impact. Angry shouts came from all directions. More than one attempt was made to climb up the side of the cage to hurl objects at her from point-blank range. Laughing, the guards made a halfhearted effort to stop the rowdy city folks, but usually stalled long enough so they could get one clean throw in.
Crying, she looked up just as a hurled apple caught her over her eye. A roar rose up from the crowd, applauding the lucky strike. A man pumped his fists in the air, taking credit for the throw. The blow hurt, but nowhere near as bad as seeing all these people root for her suffering. It made her sick to her stomach. Why did the humans hate her so much? Another man strolled alongside the cage, tossing a molded potato up in the air with one hand. He grinned and wound up, but had it knocked away before completing the throw. Confused at first, he suddenly grimaced in pain as his arm twisted up behind his back.
“Attempt to hurt her again and I take this arm home with me,” Xavier growled in his ear.
“What are you doing? Who the hell do you think yo—” A swift palm to the back of the neck silenced the man. Knees buckling, eyes rolling back, he sank to the ground. Leaping over his unconscious body, Xavier moved to the front of the crowd in plain view of Viola. Oh no, she thought, her mind spinning. No, no. Don’t you dare!
“Viola!” he shouted, moving alongside the slowly moving cage. Those nearest to Xavier eyed him in confusion. “Viola, it’s going to be all right. I swear I’ll put an end to this madness. We’re going to get you out!” Stop it, you fool! Get away! “I don’t know what made you run off like that, but I’m sorry. Whatever I did to lose your trust, I’m so sorry!” I’m begging you, just stop! Realizing that speaking to him would only make things worse, her eyes pleaded, begging him to leave.
“What is he doing?!” Thatra growled under her breath.
“Stop him!” Liam blurted, glancing about while trying to decide the most direct path to take. Already, he could see Owen up ahead, pushing his way through the crowd.
Wide-eyed, Viola shook her head in the most subtle way she could as Xavier climbed up the bars. Clinging to the side of the cage, he pressed his face between two bars. “Don’t you understand? We care about you. We’re not going to let this happen. We’ll get you out of this, somehow. I promise!”
“Oh Xavier,” she whispered, too softly for anyone to hear. Forgive me...
Rushing at him from across the cage, she latched on to his shoulders with both arms, her teeth sinking into the side of his neck. He cried out from the rush of pain, trying to push himself back as blood trickled down his neck. A panicked cry rose up from the stunned crowd. They began running about wildly, bumping into each other while trying to get away from the wild creature that had just lost its mind.
“What are you—” Xavier’s strained voice choked off as he tried to bend her wrists back. Her teeth sank in deeper, making escape nearly impossible without damaging himself further. She clawed wildly at his face, her fingernails raking his cheeks and forehead. Surrounding guards sprung into action, one fumbling with a key while two others tried to pry hands off the innocent spectator. Pulling up and back on her hair, they finally got the wild creature to release. Mouth covered in blood, Viola clawed the air through the bars, snarling wildly at Xavier. They want to see a savage beast. Then I’ll give them what they want! When the cage door flung open, guards with wooden batons swarmed the cage.
he hunter dragged his young apprentice back from the chaos when Xavier fell into his arms. “Sir, are you all right?” asked one of the guards. “Shall I fetch a healer?”
“He be just fine,” Owen was quick to point out. “Serves the lad right for getting so close to that beast. I’ll take it from here.”
“Beast?” Xavier echoed softly, clutching his wounded neck.
“All right then. If he needs anything, just flag down one of the guards,” the soldier said before running back towards the cage to join the others.
“She attacked me,” Xavier whispered in disbelief.
“I can’t believe you’re this stupid!” Owen growled, pointing back to the cage. Soldiers swarmed her now, so many that she seemed to disappear among them. Batons came down again and again to the sound of wet, meaty smacks. The relentless beating seemed to go on forever, but when Xavier looked away, Owen grabbed his chin and forced his gaze back towards the carnage. “Don’t you dare look away, boy. This is your fault! Look at her! Take it all in and understand what you’ve done!”
Seeing a person he cared about so deeply take such a savage beating, Xavier thought he was going to throw up. It had to be the hardest thing he had ever been forced to watch. Cheers from the crowd made the experience even more torturous. When the beating finally ceased, the guards stepped away from the unconscious girl. Seeing her bloody face, Xavier turned his head and spewed right there in the street. Normally Owen would have comforted his apprentice, but not this time. “Come on, boy,” he said, lifting Xavier by the collar. “You’ve done enough damage for one day.”
*
“Move your hand,” said Thatra. Air whistled through Xavier’s teeth as he slowly removed the rag from his wound, drying blood clinging to each fiber and making it stick. He winced as she dabbed at it with a second rag dipped in alcohol. “She got you pretty good. I imagine this will leave a scar.”
“I still don’t understand,” Xavier mumbled, shifting on the bed. “Why would she attack me like that?”
“She was protecting you,” Liam groaned, unable to keep the disgust from his voice. “She did the only thing she could to draw attention away from you.”
“She was protecting all of us,” Owen added. “What were you thinking, calling her by name, announcing to the world that ye knew her? If anyone in the city figures out she is with us, we’ll all be in chains. And that will be the end of it. She’ll never escape and neither will we.” He pinched an inch of air with two fingers. “An eyelash, boy. You came within an eyelash of exposing us.”
“Luckily, Viola is not as stupid as you are!” Liam said. “She made a terrible sacrifice to save you from yourself.” Visibly frustrated, the mystic glared at the apprentice. Feeling foolish, Xavier looked away. Now that it was so obvious to him, he couldn’t blame the others for being angry. He had nearly ruined everything. Seeing the shame in the young man’s eyes, Liam waved at the air, his expression softening. “Forget it. It’s behind us now. Thanks to her quick thinking, we still have a chance of getting her out of this mess. She’s bought us some time, and we must not waste it. Every second counts, so let’s get to work.”
Chapter 3
Her body swaying with the wobble of the moving wagon, Viola’s eyes fluttered open. Murky confusion mixed with her slowly waking
consciousness. A vision of falling batons flashed across her cloudy vision as she blinked, fingers twitching. Suddenly alert with fear, she sat up with a gasp. Shrieking in pain, she gripped her shoulder before gently lying back down. Now aware of the lingering effects, her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. That savage beating was the last thing she could recall.
“Awake, eh?” grunted the soldier riding alongside the wagon. “I wouldn’t try that again if I were you. Next time we won’t be so gentle about it. You’re lucky the king wants you alive, otherwise we would have just finished the job. Savage! Monster! If it were up to me your remains would be swinging from a tree!”
His anger rising with each word, the soldier went on and on with his empty threats. Perceived bravery certainly came easy while addressing a caged creature. But his barking soon became nothing but distant noise falling on deaf ears. Blocking him out completely, all Viola could think about was the terrible act she had committed against someone she cared for deeply. It had to be done. I had no choice. By playing the part of a savage animal who attacked anyone who got too close, she had all but absolved Xavier of any dealings with her. Now no one would ever suspect they were actually friends.
That last thought pained her to no end. Were they still friends? How could it be? Did he even understand what she had been forced to do? She could still taste his blood in her mouth. As disturbing as it was even to her, she relished the sweetness of that lingering taste. In a most intimate way, it was a part of him, a memory she could store away in the back of her mind. After all, that very well have been the last time she would ever touch him. The thought of that made her sick. Was that how he would remember her, as some brutal, out-of-control animal who had attacked him in the midst of some perverted bloodlust? Here she was being taken away, forced into the unknown, and all she could think about was how she would be remembered in Xavier’s eyes. It was all she could do to not cry out in agony.
