by Jeff Gunzel
The marching square stopped, then on cue pivoted one step to the left. Faceguards pulled down, the soldiers’ eyes scanned the upper rim of the pit, searching for any signs that something might be amiss. They seemed to be displaying a tremendous amount of caution for some reason.
Satisfied, the front line spread apart, and out from the square stepped King Milo. Looking nothing like a king, he was wearing a commoner’s dark clothing and a rather worn pair of shoes. His attire completely unassuming, he could have probably walked straight through Shadowfen’s market and no one would have recognized him. But there was nothing unassuming about his stance or the confidence he exuded. Even in street clothes used for disguise, his air of command and power was unmistakable.
Beside him stood a much shorter fellow, middle-aged with a frail-looking physique. With large hoop earrings and a bold nose that seemed to ride high on his thin face, the man couldn’t be any more different from the king, physically. But not unlike Milo, the little fellow held an unmistakable air of confidence as well. His light blue eyes scanned up and down the line, having no difficulty in holding their stray gazes for an uncomfortably long time.
A man at the end of the line cried out when one of the guards kicked his leg out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. “Bow before your king, worms!” came a call from behind. The butt of a sword handle caught another woman in the back of the neck, driving her down to her knees. The rest quickly followed suit, dropping one knee into the sand, heads bowed. Viola mimicked their movements, but was still unsure as to why this was necessary. She had begun to understand this peculiar act as a show of respect to exceptionally good people like Assirra. But here before them stood a man of suspect character, and still she had to do the same thing. Why was that? It seemed that the more she learned about the world, the more confusing it became.
A silent moment passed before Milo raised his hands, prompting them back to their feet. “Good day to you, loyal subjects of Shadowfen,” he said, hands clasped behind his back as he began to pace. “I imagine some of you are confused. But I also suspect a few of you know exactly why you are here. Allow me to do my best to explain your present situation. Although not customary by any means, I wanted to take the time to greet you all personally. Seeing as how I stand to make a fair amount of coin because of you, a personal appearance only seemed fair.” An uncomfortable stirring rattled down the line, hands fidgeting while toes tapped the sand. The man standing near Viola threw up, but no one seemed to notice.
“You’ve already met Ozryn.” He gestured towards the goon of a man who had yet to speak. “He is here to train you all in the art of combat. Let me be clear so that there is no confusion on the matter in the coming weeks. Ozryn is not your friend. His job is make you as battle-ready as possible, as soon as possible. If you do not obey his instructions, he will kill you, and you will be replaced. If he decides he simply doesn’t like you, he will kill you, and you will be replaced.”
The king stalked over to the grizzly man. Nowhere near as stout but nearly as tall, he looked Ozryn right in the eyes. “And if none of you perform up to the substantial standards I’ve set, I will kill him, and he will be replaced.” Chinks in the mask of that constant scowl formed as the beastly man swallowed. His crossed arms dropped to his sides as his face betrayed his nervousness for the first time.
“You see,” said the king, turning back towards the prisoners, “ultimately, I am running a business, no different than any other trade. If a blacksmith forges a subpar sword or an inferior set of armor, he forfeits the right to charge for his services. In essence, he has broken his promise to the buyer. Furthermore, his name is now tainted forever. I would not wish such a fate to befall me, seeing as how I plan to deliver the entertainment this fine city deserves. If something were to tarnish my good name, then those responsible shall be held accountable.” He flashed another glance towards Ozryn.
“Now that we’ve cleared up some of the smaller details, I would like you all to meet Kuuma.” The thin fellow nodded. “Kuuma runs the day-to-day operations here in the pit. He is my right hand, and will keep me informed as to your progress in the coming days.
“Now, as I stated earlier, a number of you are wondering what is really going on. Why are you here instead of rotting in your cells, yes? Well, that answer differs from person to person. For some of you, I determined that this fate served a higher purpose, rather than just having you executed for your crimes. Think of this as a slim chance of survival as opposed to none. I would consider that a mercy of sorts, agree?
“A few of you have actually volunteered for this.” Eyes shifted back and forth, wondering who could possibly be so mad as to subject themselves to such a fate. “To those I say this. All debts will be forgiven, and all crimes shall be pardoned as was the agreement. Should you fall, and it is more than likely you shall, your families will also be pardoned. Your death in the pit shall be weighted as if you had succeeded in this endeavor. I want you to perform with a clear conscience knowing you have made the right decision, no matter the outcome.
“As to why you’ve all been moved into the pit itself, well, that is a simple answer. We want you to get used to your surroundings. After all, this is where you will be performing. Consider this your new home. Now, have I made myself perfectly clear? I trust there are no other questions?” That last was more a statement than a question. “Good, then I want you all to get something to eat and rest up.” He turned his back to them for the second time. “Your training starts in the morning.”
Starting from opposite sides, guards worked their way down the line unlocking the metal snaps. Viola rubbed her wrists, grateful to have those things removed. She only wished they would take this collar off her neck as well. With the meeting over, they were led back through the gate. Milo grabbed one of the guards by the elbow before he could follow them. “Is there any new word of Bella’s remains?” asked the king, leaning into the man’s ear even though the others were no longer within earshot.
“Er...no, Your Highness,” he replied, his body stiffening. “We released the dogs to follow her trail just as you ordered. But at one point the scent just stopped. They could no longer pick up the trail.”
“So you’re telling me she just vanished into thin air,” he said with a disappointed sigh.
“No, no, of course not.” The soldier shook his head, wishing he had chosen his rushed words a little more carefully. “It’s most likely she was eaten by wolves or some other such creature. I wouldn’t concern myself with such trivial matters if I were you, My Lord.”
The king’s grip around his elbow tightened, those dark eyes boring into the man’s soul. “Had she been eaten by wolves...or some other such creature, as you say...there would have been obvious signs of struggle as well as at least some human remains, correct?” The soldier froze, not knowing exactly what to say. Of course the king was correct. Had his proposed theory been true, there would have been numerous clues to back it up. “Double the search and keep looking,” Milo growled, shoving the soldier away. “Report back to me the moment you find something.”
Originally, the game had been too much for the king to resist. He had dangled freedom in front of Bella’s nose, all with the intent of snatching it away at the last moment. It was to be his final revenge against an unfaithful wife. Not really all that sporting, but satisfying nonetheless. Sure, executing her on the spot would have been a more practical choice, but where was the fun in that? However, in this case it seemed that the resourceful rabbit had somehow managed to escape the hunt. There was no use lying to himself—he just might have underestimated his surprisingly capable wife.
That fact bothered him more than he was willing to admit.
* * *
With only a few guards escorting them, the group was led back down the same hall. To the left was a rather large chamber with a long wooden table at its center. Bowls of cold gruel were laid out with filled water glasses beside them. Black-cased oil lamps hung from iron pegs, their flic
kering angry light giving the stone room an empty, ominous look. Without hesitation, the warrior moved to the end of the table in three long strides, then sat down and began digging into the bowl he claimed for himself. Cautiously, the others followed his lead, taking their seats around the table.
Viola’s eyes wandered around the relatively empty room. Special care had been used during the assembly of this seldom-seen section. Dug deep into the sand was a network of tunnels, and at least one fairly large chamber she had seen so far. It was a far cry from the small, constrained tunnel on the other side where her brother had been kept. It was possible these chambers took even longer to amass than digging the pit itself.
The cold gruel was practically a feast compared to what Viola had been eating, so she dug in eagerly. She savored the precious water, and even saw there were two more full pitchers on the table as well. The room was silent, save for the sounds of spoons tinkling against the sides of bowls and the gulping of water. Viola took a deep breath. “I-It’s nice they at least gave us something to eat, right?” She cringed at the ensuing silence. No one even bothered to look at her. Even so, she felt compelled to keep going even though she could feel the heat building in her face. “M-My name is—”
“Nobody cares, dead girl,” grunted the warrior, paying her no additional attention as he scraped the bottom of his bowl. Frowning into it, his eyes wandered to other bowls around the table, prompting some to scoot away while others covered their food protectively. Mortified, Viola drew in on herself, eyes lowering to her own half-full bowl.
“Go on then,” said the woman seated across from her. “What is your name?” It was the same woman who had voiced her objection to being leaned against by the man who was frightened of Viola. Well into her middle years, her wavy brown hair was streaked with gray. The corners of her dark eyes were webbed with wrinkles, but they held a sort of calm wisdom. Unshaken by Viola’s appearance, those unflinching eyes never once shied away. “My name is Salina. I’ve heard so much about you. You’re the talk of the city. I’m glad to finally meet you myself.”
Viola didn’t find that information to be all that flattering. She had longed to make friends for as long as she could remember, but this sort of attention had nothing to do with being liked. She was a freak, and so far had been treated as such. “My name is Viola,” she mumbled down at her bowl.
“Ha,” the warrior grunted, one elbow up on the table, chin rested in his palm. “You hear that? The dead girl has a name!” Disinterested chuckles resonated around the table, most just going along with the jest while engrossed in their own thoughts. They really didn’t care one way or the other.
“Ignore them,” Salina said loudly so all could hear. “Those who fear their own deaths will desperately seek distraction in any form.” After glaring down the table to see if any would respond, she returned her attention Viola.
“Why are you here?” Viola asked, confused by the assured confidence of this woman. Nothing about her seemed to indicate she was a criminal.
“Paying off a debt.” Salina shrugged. “We aren’t all murderers and thieves, you know,” she added with a wink. But her smirk melted away, her expression turning solemn. “My son was a gambler, always throwing dice at the local tavern every chance he got. Oh, I turned a blind eye for a time. I told myself he was just going through a phase, that he would grow bored of that stupid game and even more so of losing his coin night after night. That’s what mothers do.” A hint of her prior smile returned. “We would never lie to our children, but we seem to have no problem lying to ourselves. Denial can be a powerful thing.”
She blinked away the pained look in her eyes before continuing. “Items began disappearing from our home, jewelry, silverware, even clothes. Again I looked the other way, convincing myself they had been misplaced. I even told myself we must have been robbed, because my dear Preston—” Her voice cracked as her reddening eyes drifted upward. “He would never have done such a thing.” Her voice lowered to a hushed whisper. “It was just a phase. He was young and stupid. It wasn’t going to last.” Her distant vision coming back into focus, she looked at Viola. “But it was me who was stupid.” She shook her head at the painful memory.
“One evening there came a knock at the door. The hour was late, so I hesitated to answer. Preston had yet to come home, and I could never fall asleep until he was safe in his bed, so of course I was still up. Moments after the second knock, the door crashed in and a group of men stormed my living room. They were looking for my boy, said he hadn’t paid his debts at the local game house for months. They roughed me up a little bit, but that didn’t matter. I wouldn’t have told them where he was even if I knew.”
Salina reached out, the tips of her fingers touching the back of Viola’s hand. If the touch of Viola’s ice-cold skin bothered Salina, she showed no sign of it. “That is why I’m here. My son’s debt was passed on to the local authorities. And since no one knows where he ran off to, that debt has now fallen to me. And since I don’t have that kind of coin, I now have to fight in the pit to pay it off. It is the only way I can free his name.”
“I’m so sorry,” said Viola, her thumb rubbing the top of Salina’s hand. Suddenly, her thumb stopped moving and she sat up. A tiny gasp escaped her lips. So enthralled she was in Salina’s story that she hadn’t even realized a human was talking to her, looking her right in the eye while pouring her heart out. Not only was this woman not afraid of her, but she seemed to even trust her to some extent.
“Oh, don’t be,” Salina replied, waving off Viola’s pity. “I’ll gladly accept this burden in place of my son. As far as I know, they still haven’t found Preston. That somehow comforts me in some strange way. He will start a new life somewhere far away. And if he ever comes home, I will have cleared his name.”
“But this isn’t fair,” said Viola. “You’re risking everything for something he did. Aren’t you even a little mad about that?”
Salina shook her head. “I find it empowering that I can end all this. As a mother, I will do whatever it takes to protect my son. And besides,” she spun her spoon between three fingers, then snapped her wrist, sending it tumbling through the air to strike the wall on the far side of the room, “I’m better suited for this than he is.” Having seen a good many dagger throws from her friends, Viola recognized the woman’s skill set for what it was.
“That’s it, maggots,” said one of the guards, tapping his sword against his breastplate to get their attention. “Sleeping quarters are this way.” He raised his blade, using it to point down the hall. Pushing her partially full bowl away, Viola was the first to rise from her seat. She nodded to Salina and wandered off to find herself a room. She glanced into each stone-walled room she passed, quickly discovering there wasn’t much difference in any of them, five in total. She decided on the last one near the end of the hall.
Reaching out to hook the doorless entrance as she passed, she spun herself in. There were two wooden plank beds on either side of the room, with a single oil lamp hung on the wall. The wooden bed looked very inviting when compared to the dank stone floor she had been sleeping on. Only slightly bigger than her fist, a tiny sack filled with beans served as a pillow, and the hole-filled blanket was thin enough to be called a sheet. Still, she welcomed all the little comforts.
A familiar face popped through the entryway, and Viola smiled up at Salina. “They’re doubling up two to a room,” she said, almost seeming shy this time. “Do you mind?” She pointed to the second bed.
“Of course not.” Viola’s grin widened as Salina tiptoed towards the bed. So far, this human had been nothing but kind to her, and it appeared they would be roommates as well. Viola wasn’t ready to call her a friend just yet, but the pleasant company in the midst of all this unknown was certainly welcome.
Chapter 4
Even with the comfort of a possible new friend, combined with the fact that her first night in the pit really hadn’t been as harsh as she feared, only restless, broken sleep came to Viol
a that night. Her fitful dreams were filled with old memories, images of the friends she would most likely never see again. She even dreamed of her sheltered life back in Redwater, where even though her existence meant nothing, things were still so simple. Destined to live out her days in the shadows of humans, her life would have played out in the blink of an eye. She would be remembered by no one, loved by no one, but she wouldn’t have been the cause of anyone else’s pain either. A more fitting end, perhaps? Certainly better for those whose lives she had already touched, her tainted fingerprints now burned into their souls like black scars?
Feeling an arctic chill, her eyelids snapped wide open. She gasped, air driving straight into her lungs as she bolted upright. A mere second later, Salina’s ensuing squeal came as little surprise. Two men stood at their bedsides, each holding empty bucks. The water was so cold it was hard to believe. The fact that Viola was so aware of its temperature spoke volumes. Instantly, Salina’s teeth began chattering as she hugged herself, trying to regain a bit of warmth.
“You two have three minutes to be outside and ready to go,” one of the men ordered, flipping his dripping bucket against the wall. “Choose yourselves a partner. You two are in for a long day, so make sure it’s someone you can stand for an extended time.” The other dropped his bucket and both left the room.
When the initial frosty shock all but wore off, Viola shifted from one bed to the other to check on her friend. Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around Salina and began vigorously rubbing her shoulders. Air whistled between Salina’s teeth as she pushed away from that frosty touch. “I’m sorry!” Viola blurted, hands rising up as she jumped back. “I was just trying to help.” She felt stupid. Having virtually no body heat of her own, she was only making things worse.
“It’s all right. I know you were,” Salina replied. Standing, she began pacing back and forth, rubbing her arms and shoulders. “I’ll be fine, just give me a moment.”
