Steel Maiden

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Steel Maiden Page 2

by Kim Richardson


  Her face was paler than usual, her skin too thin and pulled tightly around her cheekbones. The dark circles under her eyes stood out even though the light of the cottage was dim. Wisps of gray hair fell around her thin face from her chignon, and her brown linen dress hung loosely on her skinny frame. She looked years older than she actually was. The Pit had done this to her. She should have been plump with rosy cheeks, not skin and bones.

  I had hoped for the smell of food or even bread to calm my aching stomach, and I did my best to hide my disappointment. Rose had taught me to stitch and sew years ago, but even between the two of us, there wasn’t much work for seamstresses in the Pit, and there was even less coin. For a woman in the Pit there was no real trade except for farming if you were one of the lucky ones with land. Otherwise it was sewing or prostitution. And that was only if you escaped the clutches of the priests.

  Our entire cottage comprised of a single room. We had a kitchenette with a small round dining table, and two beat-up chairs were angled next to the hearth. We shared the small cot tucked in the corner near the hearth. The only thing of value in our cottage was the small bookcase that contained Rose’s collection of history books, atlases, and three books of children’s fairy tales. Books were a rare commodity in the Pit, but if you could find them they were worth every coin. Any price was worth the sight of Rose’s face lighting up when she held a new book. I traded for them every chance I got, and now we had a pretty impressive collection.

  “I don’t know what I would have done if they’d taken you—” Rose wheezed in a fit of coughing.

  I rushed over and handed her a cup of cold tea.

  “Here,” I said and brought the cup to her lips. She took a sip and sat back down. I frowned at the state of her.

  “Your cold isn’t getting better. We need a healer.”

  “Healers only come if you have the coin to give them.”

  A shadow passed in front of Rose’s brown eyes. They used to be so full of light, but now they were dull, and it frightened me.

  I swallowed hard. “I told you to rest. Why didn’t you listen to me?”

  Rose raised an eyebrow. “And I told you to stay out of trouble.” She took another sip of her cold tea. “You’re just as stubborn as your mother. Hardheaded mules, the both of you. Never listening to reason.”

  I knew she was trying to scold me, but I took it as a compliment.

  “I’m a grown woman, Rose. Stop treating me like a child.”

  “Then stop acting like one.”

  For a sick old woman, her voice was fierce. “I made a promise to your mother. I promised to keep you safe, to keep you hidden from the priests. They must never find you. Do you understand? They must never ever know of your existence. Don’t make me a liar, Elena.”

  Tears welled in her eyes, and I struggled to keep my own eyes dry. I cupped her gnarled fingers into my own and knelt beside her.

  “I won’t. I promise. They’ll never find me. I swear it.”

  She changed the subject.

  “Philip came around earlier looking for you,” she said, and she gave me that knowing stare that would have made me blush if I had been a girl of sixteen.

  “I could see it in his eyes,” she said. “He’ll never make a decent woman out of you.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Oh, Rose, not that again. Phil’s just a friend, nothing more.”

  It wasn’t a secret that Phil and I met regularly in the woods. It wasn’t love. It was just two lonely people who needed each other’s comfort. To feel a warm body sometimes made the nightmares go away. Sometimes.

  I brushed her off and said, “I’ll talk to him when I get back from my meeting.”

  I looked in her eyes and could see that there was no judgment in them, only sadness. I didn’t want her pity.

  I could feel the weight of my bag against my hip. I smiled and said, “I have news, news that will change our lives.”

  Rose looked at me with that worried look she always gave me when I had been away from our miserable cottage. “What are you talking about? What is that smile all about?”

  “We won’t be hiding from the priests for much longer. Our luck has changed.”

  I pulled open the bag on my waist and placed the crown on our small wooden table. Her eyes went wide.

  “Elena,” she whispered, her mouth a tight line. “What have you done?”

  Her lips trembled. “Where did you get this?”

  “Soul City,” I replied proudly. “The temple vault.”

  “The high priests’ vault?” Rose had gone even paler. Her gaze traveled over the golden crown and then back to me. I could see the whites of her eyes.

  “You must take it back. Quickly, before they know it’s missing!”

  “No,” I said sharply.

  I crossed my arms. I didn’t want to fight with her today. I was too tired.

  “It’s too late for that. If I tried to take it back now, I’d be caught for sure. I’d be facing the noose. Stop looking at me like that. You don’t understand, I did it for—”

  “How could you, Elena?” Her eyes turned damp. “How could you jeopardize us like that? The risk…”

  I sighed. “Because I did it for us.”

  She stared at me in shock.

  “For you and for me. Don’t you get it? This is our chance to get out of this hell once and for all—to start a new life. Aren’t you tired of starving? Don’t you want better clothes? Shoes without holes?”

  My voice came out louder and more angrily than I’d expected.

  “Don’t you want a fire to keep you warm instead of this black hole?”

  I pointed to the useless, cold hearth and then to the crown. “With this crown we can buy new lives for ourselves. I’m tired living like this. I’m tired of being hungry all the time, of living in this filth. We could go east to Romila or even Girmania—somewhere where there are no more priests, and where no one knows who we are.”

  “The priests are everywhere. Even in Girmania.”

  Rose looked down at her cup of tea. “I know you mean well, Elena, truly I do. But this is madness. Even if you wanted to sell that…that gold crown…no one would buy it. No one in the Pit or even in all of Anglia has enough coin for such a treasure.”

  I jerked my chin at the crown, unable to keep the smugness from my voice as I said, “I already have a buyer.”

  I saw the fear in Rose’s eyes.

  “Who?” she said after a while, her eyes narrowed.

  “Mad Jack.”

  Rose’s teacup crashed to the ground as she stood up. “Mad Jack! That murderous, wretched man. Do you know what he does to young women like you? Do you?”

  I had heard the rumors about human trafficking. People said that his gang stole ten-year-old girls and forced them into prostitution and slavery. Most of the time, their parents didn’t even bother to look for them—one less mouth to feed. But they were just rumors, and I’d never seen any proof of it.

  I sighed and shrugged. “I don’t care about those rumors.”

  “Rumors!”

  “Yes, rumors.” I braced my hands on the table as Rose shook her head.

  “Right now, all I care about is making the trade so that we can get the hell out of here.”

  “How can you trust him?” said Rose. “The man’s vile. Don’t go. I beg you.”

  Mad Jack was lord of Bleak Town. He was a thug, a murderer, and a psychopath. But he was the law in the Pit, and he was the only one who could pay good coin for the crown. We’d already made the deal. All I had to do was bring it to him, and Rose and I were free.

  “It’s too late for that,” I said and avoided her eyes. “I’ve already made the deal. He’s waiting for me. I’m to bring it to him today.”

  Rose was silent for a while. Her brows narrowed. “I promised your mother I’d look after you. She was like a sister to me. If something were to happen to you now after everything we’ve done, after all the years we’ve been so careful to hide you fro
m them—”

  “And you did. Now it’s time for me to take care of you. I’m not the scared little girl anymore, Rose. Let me do this. Let me do this for us. For our new home on the beach in the south of Espan.”

  I smiled at her. “A little color and heat would do us some good, you know. We both look dreadful.”

  “Elena,” she said, and I could see the darkness in her eyes shift as she shook her head. “This is crazy. Even if you do manage to sell it, I won’t go with you.”

  “I won’t,” she added stubbornly, as though that would stop me.

  “I’ll carry you if I have to, old woman.”

  Just for a second I saw a smile on her face. “It’s too dangerous, Elena. I can’t let you risk your life.”

  “It’s done. There’s nothing left to say.”

  “They will come for you now,” Rose whispered. “They’ll take you away. They will trace this crown back to you, back here, back to us. Everything we’ve done, everything we’ve sacrificed for will be destroyed by this foolishness.”

  I clenched my teeth. “It’s not foolish.”

  I rubbed my temples as a giant headache pounded against my skull. I didn’t want to argue with her. Rose was frightened. She was born and raised in the Pit, and I knew that leaving it would terrify her.

  “I was careful. No one saw me enter or leave the vault—”

  A bell rang in the distance.

  Rose’s eyes widened with fear as we looked at each other. “The priests!”

  CHAPTER 3

  ROSE ONLY NEEDED TO give me a look. I snatched up the crown, hit the table back with my hip, kicked the carpet over, and pulled open the trap door.

  But as I stood there, ready to jump in, something inside me stirred.

  I glanced at Rose. “No.”

  I took a step back. “I don’t want to hide anymore. What’s the point? I’m too old for them to pick anyway. They’re looking for adolescent girls who won’t fight back. They want girls who will submit to their perverted desires. They’re not looking for a grown woman. Let them come.”

  Rose’s pale eyes hardened. “In. Think of your mother’s sacrifice. Stop being so stubborn.”

  I frowned. I hated when she played that card. “This is ridiculous. Besides, you know as well as I do that they won’t even bother with us. They hardly ever do anymore—”

  The gravel just outside our cottage crunched.

  Rose’s face blanched, and she took hold of my arm and tugged.

  “Don’t be foolish, girl,” she hissed. “The priests mustn’t find you. Ever. Now, get it!”

  She pulled, but I yanked my arm out of her grip. Apparently I was as stubborn as my mother.

  Rose’s mouth opened as if she were about to say something else. I could see it in her eyes for a second, but then it was gone. Whatever it was, she’d decided not to tell me. She straightened and said. “Please, Elena. I’m too tired to argue.”

  Deep down I knew she was right. If I had been followed, I didn’t want Rose to get hurt. Her fragile bones were no match for the priests’ wrath.

  As I settled into my crouched position, I looked up at Rose one last time before she dropped the heavy door, and I was submerged in darkness again.

  I heard the scraping of our table being pulled over me, then the chairs. My heart hammered in my ears and made it difficult to hear. We hadn’t had a priest visit in years, and I couldn’t help but wonder if somehow I’d been discovered. No. I knew I had been careful. But there was still that lingering feeling that maybe someone did see me, and that the priests were coming for me.

  I heard Rose sigh heavily, and the light tapping over my head suggested that she was bouncing her leg up and down nervously. I was covered in sweat, and I let out a shaky breath. Minutes passed. My breathing stilled, and I began to relax a little. Maybe we’d been lucky again. I couldn’t hear Rose’s foot tapping anymore, so I knew she was feeling calmer now. We were going to be fine. I opened my mouth to call out to Rose—

  A knock came from our front door.

  I heard Rose gasp as I hit my head on the trap door in a panic. I would not give in to it. Despite my heart’s wild pounding in my ears, I strained to listen. I heard Rose’s feet patter softly across the floor and then the click of the lock. Finally the door screeched open.

  “Good morning,” said a man’s voice.

  It was a deep, emotionless voice and sounded more like a command than a greeting. My stomach tightened, and I suppressed the tiny gasp that threatened to escape. My heart hammered against my chest. I was having a panic attack.

  “Priest,” I heard Rose mutter in a near hiss. I had to quash a nervous giggle.

  Heavy footfalls moved around our little cottage, and I knew the priest had let himself in. I felt a small sense of ease because it was a priest and not the temple guards. Perhaps they still didn’t know I had stolen the crown. Still, a priest showing up at your front door wasn’t much better. What was he doing here? Would they have sent a priest instead? There was only one reason why they came around, and I preferred not to think about it.

  I could feel the crown pressed against my side. I had fixed an appointment with Mad Jack for this morning. If the priest lingered for much longer, I was going to be late. I knew Mad Jack didn’t tolerate tardiness. He would see my lateness as an insult and perhaps as a setup. If I didn’t make it on time I probably wouldn’t make the trade, and I would lose everything.

  “How can I help you, priest,” came Rose’s voice from above.

  “There’s been talk about a beautiful woman, a beautiful young woman, who comes and goes from this…this…dwelling, if you can even call it that.”

  The priest’s voice echoed above my head, full of contempt and arrogance.

  “I have come to see if the rumors are true.” He clicked his tongue. “Obviously it is not you.”

  “Obviously,” said Rose, and I imagined her face as she tried to control her fury. She was a master of disguise when it came to her face.

  “I haven’t been a young woman for over forty years.” Her voice sounded as though she was giving the priest a slight smile.

  “I am sorry you wasted your time, but as you can see there is no young woman here. Only an old one.”

  I had to applaud her. She lied so effortlessly. I wished I could be as sly as she was.

  The floorboards creaked under the weight of the priest as he crossed the room.

  “Mmm. Yes. And yet I have heard these rumors for three years now. I wonder why that is…if there is no other woman than yourself here, why the stories?”

  “There isn’t.” Rose’s voice was final. “Perhaps they meant my clients. I cater to many young women with my sewing business. Perhaps that’s what they saw.” Rose knew that spies lived in the Pit with us. Too many times we’d seen temple guards appear at neighbors’ doors and take them away. They never returned.

  “Perhaps,” said the priest, but I heard no agreement in his voice.

  There was a pause.

  “We keep accounts on all the females in the Pit. Our records show that you are barren. There were never any children born at this address.”

  “That’s right. I’m barren. I could never have children,” said Rose quietly.

  I heard the hurt in her voice, and I felt my own throat squeeze at her sadness. It was a subject she never wanted to talk about. As a child I had asked her many times why she didn’t have children of her own, not fully understanding what barren meant. I could always see the tears welling in her eyes. I loved Rose like a mother, and I knew I was the closest thing she’d ever had to a daughter. She’d protected me all these years and put her own life in danger because of me. But Rose was sixty-five now, which was ancient for those living in the Pit. It was my turn to take care of her. Not the other way around.

  And yet, here I was, hiding in my cupboard again, like a frightened little mouse.

  “Hmm.” I heard the priest move about the room.

  “Even in your haggard state, I can tell y
ou were never one of the beautiful ones. Your nose is too big. Your lips too fine. Your features are uneven, and there is nothing interesting about your eyes. You lack the refined bone structure of natural beauty. If you had been lovely, we could have used you. Even a barren concubine can find ways to please us.”

  I could feel the wicked smile on his face. I wanted to claw out his eyes.

  “Had you been born a beauty,” continued the priest, in love with the sound of his own voice, “you could have been saved by the priests of the temple. We would have fed you and clothed you in glorious gowns. You would have gone to parties and been the envy of all the women in Anglia…if only you had been beautiful. But the ugly ones are left behind, left in this God forsaken slum, where you belong.”

  I cursed a million curses in my head, and a cold, icy feeling welled inside me. I wanted to be with Rose, to stand next to her while this wretched man tore her apart. I wanted to spit in his face. How dare he speak to Rose like that? I wanted to tell him that most women, particularly the prettiest ones, would rather die than become a priest’s concubine.

  “Well,” said Rosy, almost cheerfully, “I guess those woman have all the luck in the world then, don’t they. I wasn’t born beautiful, and at my age I don’t really care anymore. If there’s nothing else, I really should be getting back to my sewing…”

  “And what of your husband? I do remembering reading that you had been married.”

  “Died of the fever ten years ago.”

  I couldn’t detect any anger in Rose’s voice. She was a true champion. I loved her for it. I heard the soft patter of Rose’s feet move towards the door.

  The priest continued, and I had to concentrate to hear his voice over the squeaking of the floorboards. He was right on top of me, right next to the table. If I made any sound, he would hear me. I held my breath, as sweat trickled down my forehead, and my bowels turned watery. “If I find out that you’re lying—”

 

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