Ruled By Fear

by C. Cervi

  When sleep finally did come, it was filled with vivid dreams of dark tunnels and a great, black beast. As the beast chased him, it took on the shape of a scorpion, and grew until it was almost too big to fit through the tunnels. It was chasing him back toward the cavern of stone, toward the torture chamber. The scorpion swung its tail, and he quickly dove inside, his bare feet sliding across the smooth floor. He fell and hit his head on the stone table in the center. As he opened his eyes, he saw the blood seeping into the ground from a wound on his head, and his blood soon mingled with the stains of all the souls that had been there before him.

  Aaron woke with a start as he hit the floor, having tossed and turned his way right of bed. He felt blood trickling across his lips and carefully touched his tender nose.

  You’d think I was five-years-old.

  He was becoming accustomed to the various sounds that surrounded him, and hearing the other prisoners begin their preparations for the day, he stood and stretched slowly. His clothes were covered with the blood that had dripped from his nose, and he sighed loudly, heading for the water pitcher. It was then that he noticed a new set of clothes, folded neatly on the stand. Grateful for the chance to get out of his soiled clothing, he quickly changed and after a moment, realized he had a problem. The new pants were much looser at the waist than his old ones. There was no way that he would be able to keep the book and matches hidden. A sudden thought occurred to him and he quickly un-wrapped the soiled sleeve that was wound around his leg. The wounds looked much better after their bout with the soap, and he hoped the fresh air would do more good than harm. He then ripped the other sleeve off his old shirt and, slipping the book and matches inside, he used a series of knots to tie the sleeves around his waist. He didn’t have a mirror to check himself, but the new shirt was baggy enough that he was sure no one would notice the small lump.

  Feeling quite pleased with himself, he headed out the door, but his spirits dampened at breakfast that morning as he observed his brother. Keith was listless and mostly picked at his food. Under ordinary conditions, Aaron would have insisted he stay inside and rest, but conditions were far from ordinary, and he didn’t want Keith out of his sight.

  Glancing at the board, he saw that their slight reprieve was over, and they were again scheduled in the mine.

  “Keith,” he said, using a soft tone that his brother immediately recognized. “You need to eat. Come on now. I’ll race ya.”

  Those three words sounded silly to Aaron’s ear, but they had once saved Keith’s life. The family dog had died and the young boy had refused to eat for days, causing his body to slowly weaken. Eventually the small boy had become sick, and they’d sent for the doctor late one night when Keith’s breathing became shallow and raspy. The doctor and their Pa had fought with the fevered young boy for over an hour trying to get him to take some of the bitter tasting medicine. In an act of desperation, Aaron had poured a little of it into two small glasses and, holding them up, he’d made the offer to race his little brother. Keith had looked up at him through fevered eyes and gave the first tiny smile they had seen in weeks. He then took the glass and beat his older brother in drinking the medicine.

  It had become a sort of game in the family ever since, to get Keith to do something he was reluctant to do. “I’ll race ya,” they would say, and he never failed to comply.

  Aaron was brought back from the past as Keith placed the last of his biscuit in his mouth and slammed his cup down.

  “You’re losing your touch, older brother,” he said. “I beat you without even trying.”

  Aaron just smiled in return and, seeing his brother’s empty plate, was satisfied that he hadn’t lost his touch at all.

  The sky was dark as they crossed the yard, and an angry wind sent sand into their eyes while it whipped at their clothes. It took two men to hold the door to the shed open as Grant handed out the tools. Aaron was actually relieved to get inside the shelter of the warm tunnels.

  He was surprised when Cody and Doyle joined their group, but the two somewhat gruff characters turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Keith was not at his best and kept stumbling, and stopped to rest often. Each time it took Keith just a little longer to get up. Aaron’s heart pounded in his chest every time his brother slipped and, though he tried not to let his concern show, he continued to hover nearby. As time went on, Aaron continually glanced over his shoulder, wondering where Emily could be with their buckets. Surely, it was long past their normal lunch hour. From behind him he heard a soft cry, and he turned just in time to see Keith trip on a rock. This time, when his brother hit the dirt, he stayed down. Aaron rushed to his side and gently eased him over, gasping as he felt the heat radiating from his brother’s body.

  Keith’s breathing was ragged, and he moaned softly as Aaron tried to help him sit up.

  “He needs water,” Aaron called to his work partners.

  “I’m here,” Emily panted, coming up behind him. “I’m sorry I took so long, but it’s so windy.”

  In his hurry to get the cool water to his little brother, he barely noticed how windblown and frightened the young girl was.

  “Careful with the water there,” Doyle snapped, as Aaron continued to bathe his brother’s face. “The rest of us need some too.”

  Aaron’s head whipped around and he fixed Doyle with an angry glare.

  “My brother is sick,” he said. “Surely, you can spare a little water for me to try and bring down his fever.”

  “I’ll spare some of mine,” Tom said, stepping in between the confrontation. “But Philip gets his fair share.”

  “And we ours,” Cody added.

  Aaron forced himself to remain calm as the men divvied up the water. He was grateful to Tom, but couldn’t help but notice how he kept his own younger brother at a distance. He supposed he couldn’t blame him. Whatever illness Keith was suffering from, had come over him fast.

  He rationed out the rest of the water, only allowing himself enough to wet his dry mouth. Keith was only able to take a little at a time, and Aaron ended up using most of the water to try and bring down his brother’s fever. Aaron didn’t miss the occasional glares and whispers coming from the two older men. He knew he wasn’t doing his fair share of the work, but he wasn’t going to leave Keith’s side.

  After a while, it seemed that Keith’s fever was lessening slightly. Aaron decided to move him into the tunnel just outside of the chamber, away from the dust and noise. Keith groaned as Aaron helped him to his feet.

  “Aaron, I’m hot,” he said. “My head hurts.”

  “I know, little brother,” Aaron answered, wishing he had some way to ease his discomfort.

  Aaron caught Tom watching him when he went back for what little water was left. He felt bad knowing Tom had sacrificed his share of the water for Keith, and hoped that Emily would be faster with the next bucket.

  Once he had Keith settled, he headed back inside and worked at a furious pace, only stopping to, occasionally check on his brother. While Keith didn’t seem to be getting any worse, he didn’t seem to be getting any better either. Aaron thought about just taking his brother and heading for the house, but while he was worried about the repercussions of that act, he was more worried about exposing his brother to the weather outside. Even as deep inside the mine as they were he could hear the occasional crack and roar of thunder.

  Emily did come early with the next water bucket, and as Aaron rushed to take it from her he noticed she was drenched.

  “It’s raining again,” she said, as he looked at her with concern. “I don’t mind it.”

  “Just be careful you don’t go getting sick too,” Aaron said, gently swiping at the hair plastered against her face.

  Emily cringed away from his touch, and Aaron was taken aback.

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

  She looked as if she wanted to say more, but the movement of the other men coming to drink caused her to turn away instead. Suddenly, she turned back and, grabbing his
arm, she pulled him down, whispering something in his ear. After that she turned and fled. Aaron couldn’t be exactly sure, but he thought she had said to meet her by the pit.

  When Aaron turned back to the water bucket, the other men had already drunk their fill, including Tom. He couldn’t blame the man; his own throat was burning and raw. As much as he hated to take away from his brother, he knew he had to drink enough to keep up his own strength. He would be of no use to Keith if he allowed himself to become run down.

  About fifteen minutes later, his cart was full and though it was heavy, he decided to push it himself just in case Emily was there waiting for him. It took a good deal of muscle and strain, but he managed to dump the cartload of dirt and rocks into what the prisoners called the pit. He waited for several minutes before finally deciding he must have heard Emily wrong, and started back with the empty cart. Just as he was about to turn the corner, a slight movement to the left caught his eye.

  “Emily, is that you?” he whispered.

  The young girl emerged from behind a small group of rocks. Her eyes were wide and her breathing was rapid.

  “Here,” she said, stuffing a small package toward him. “It’s . . . it’s for your brother. It will help him get better.”

  “What is it?” Aaron asked. “Where did you get it?”

  To Aaron, it looked as if the girl were going to be sick—her eyes darted to and fro and she nervously danced from one foot to the other. Aaron reached out, and put a calming hand on her slight shoulder. She stiffened instantly, and stared at his hand.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said.

  He could feel her relax somewhat under his hand and her large, round eyes looked deep into his.

  “I believe you,” she answered. “I . . . I snuck the medicine. I followed . . . well, I know where it’s kept. That’s why I was late, I . . .”

  A few rocks slipped in the distance and Emily went white as a sheet.

  “I have to go,” she whispered. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

  She started to leave but then stopped, turning once more to look at him, and Aaron thought he saw tears in her eyes.

  “Not everyone here is like you,” she said, and then she quietly disappeared into the dark tunnels.

  C

  hapter 8

  On the way back to his chamber, Aaron stopped to open the small package. It was full of some kind of dark powdery substance. He sniffed it and although it wasn’t pleasant, he thought he recognized some of what he smelled. It reminded him of some of the medicinal teas their Pa was always forcing them to drink back home during the winter. He reached for the nearest candle to get a better look and, as he drew the candle forward, his hand knocked several items to the ground. Bending to get a closer look, he was thrilled to see the ground littered with old candle stubs. He picked up five that still had a wick in the center and then untied his makeshift belt, quickly adding the candle stubs and the medicine to his treasures. He had just finished re-tying it when Tom suddenly rounded the corner.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “I was just taking a minute to stretch,” Aaron answered quickly. “This thing wasn’t easy to push all by myself you know.”

  Tom nodded his head, but for some reason Aaron felt uneasy. For the most part, he liked Tom—he seemed a typical, concerned older brother, and he had shown them kindness on several occasions but somehow, he always seemed to be right there, just a little too close.

  The extra water along with a rest seemed to help Keith some, and by the end of the day, he was able to walk out of the tunnels under his own power. Aaron tried his best to shield Keith from the onslaught of pouring rain, as they hurried to the house, but it was a hopeless cause. By the time they got to the dining hall, all the prisoners were soaked, and Keith was shivering fiercely, his teeth chattering.

  Aaron was startled when Philip started to sit down at their table, and was stopped by Tom.

  “No,” he told the boy. “Not here.”

  Philip cast Aaron an apologetic glance, as his brother led him over to a table where Cody and Doyle sat with two other men.

  “Nothing personal,” Tom said, shrugging his shoulders. “Just looking out for my own.”

  Aaron nodded that he understood. He would probably do the same if their roles were reversed, although he liked to think it would be with a little more tact. He moved his gaze over to Emily.

  “Maybe you should move too,” he told her.

  Emily shook her head and glanced down at her plate shyly before scooting a little closer to him. Aaron watched her, and then smiled across the table at Keith. His smile quickly faded as he took in Keith’s countenance. His cheeks were flaming red and his breathing was raspy—he looked as if he might fall over at any moment. Aaron quickly went around the table and propped Keith up against his own body. He had to try and get his brother to eat something.

  Instead of passing out tin plates, this time the Gardener was passing out bowls, and Aaron was relieved to see it was some sort of vegetable soup. He poured the broth from both his and Keith’s bowl into his cup, and when he was sure no one was looking, worked to slowly open his hidden pouch. Emily noticed what he was doing, and shifted nervously. It took him a few minutes of careful maneuvering, but he managed to get a small amount of the powder into Keith’s cup.

  Keith tried, at first, to refuse the broth, but Aaron was relentless and soon the cup was empty. Without waiting for the ritual rising of the other prisoners, he helped Keith up and started for the stairs. Several of the prisoners raised their heads and he could see them looking to Grant, ready to follow his lead. Grant watched him for a moment, then slowly turned back to his soup. Aaron was relieved when the other prisoners followed suit.

  Aaron decided to take Keith into his room for the night, so he could keep an eye on him. Once Keith was in bed, he again took apart his homemade pouch. This time he used one of the sleeves as a compress, dipping it into the water in his pitcher. His bed was small, but there was enough room for him to sit on the edge. It was too dark to see Keith’s face, so he had to rely on touch to check on his brother throughout the night. A few times during the night Keith’s shallow, ragged breathing had him up and pacing the room, cursing this hateful place. Twice, he mixed more of the powder with what little bit of water there was left, and forced Keith to drink. He wasn’t sure at what point he fell asleep, but when he woke up the next morning, the sight that greeted him caused his heart to stop beating.

  Aaron leapt from the bed, where he’d been lying so peacefully a moment before.

  “Keith, where are you?” he called frantically.

  His eyes scanned the room, and when he didn’t find his brother, he dove for the door. Running across the hall, he burst into Tom’s room, and ignoring the exclamations of surprise, rushed to his brother’s bed. Keith was there. Aaron grabbed for the bedpost, holding on until the world stopped spinning. Finally, letting out a slow breath, he looked down at his sleeping brother. It was hard to see, but Aaron thought he looked a little better, laying a hand against his forehead; he was relieved to see his fever had gone down some.

  “Aaron,” Keith said, slowly waking up, “what are you doing in here?”

  “What am I doing in here?” he said, throwing his hands in the air. “What are you doing in here? Do you realize you nearly scared me to death?”

  Aaron became aware of Tom and Philip staring at him and, lowering himself to the edge of the bed, softened his voice.

  “If you’re trying to get rid of me, there are nicer ways of doing it than giving me a heart attack you know?” He couldn’t resist giving Keith a light smack to the side of his head.

  “Sorry,” Keith replied. “I woke up a while ago and you were slumped over about ready to hit the floor. I figured there was no reason I couldn’t sleep in my own bed. You must have been pretty tired, because you didn’t even flinch when I laid you down.”

  “We’re headed downstairs,” Tom said, pushing Philip out the door. “You
two coming?”

  Aaron turned back to Keith.

  “Are you feeling up to it?” he asked.

  Keith sat up slowly and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

  “Well, I’m not staying here,” he answered.

  His careful movements and ragged breathing were enough to let Aaron know he still wasn’t well. But, he was better than last night, and for that Aaron was grateful.

  “Let’s go,” Keith said, tapping Aaron’s arm. “I could use a little something to eat.”

  Aaron forced himself to relax but, inside, his heart was still trying to catch up from his early morning scare. Something had to be done and soon. He could feel the hold of this place becoming stronger the longer they stayed. He wished again that he’d taken Keith with him on that first night, when he had just walked outside the gate. But, then maybe whoever it was that watched them had known he wouldn’t really leave his brother, and that’s why they hadn’t stopped him. He wondered if he would have even gotten as far as the gate if Keith had actually been with him.

  Something his father had told him once was niggling at the back of his mind, and he tried to remember the saying as they descended the stairs.

  As a young boy, he had come across his Pa late one night, after he’d stealthily made his way down to the kitchen to steal a snack. He had just finished stuffing a few cookies into the pocket of his robe when he noticed a light glowing from his father’s partially open door. For some reason, he was drawn by that light, and a few moments later he was at his father’s side, listening to him explain a book he was reading on war.

  “Know your enemy”, that’s what he had told him that night. But how could you get to know an enemy that was invisible?

  “No, not invisible,” he told himself. After all, he had the cuts and bruises to prove his enemy was tangible. “Just hard to see.”