by Amanda Daul
She may be partial to the weapon, given that she could still feel the painful sting of the healing bullet wound through her arm and shoulder every time she moved, but Arissa knew that firearms were a poor choice of weapon because they were dependant. Ammunition was no longer manufactured; most likely all that still existed was locked away for safe keeping, except for what was distributed to the soldiers. As far as Arissa knew, lead was unheard of now, nowhere to be found and impossible to be mined. It’s why she preferred to stay with her sword and bow as much as possible.
The two guards at the gate never met her eye, never breaking their alert pose, except for smoothly and simultaneously stepping aside for her to pass without a word.
Inside the wall was a narrow gap, enough for a single person to walk around, leaving an empty bubble around the jailhouse. It had a normal door and through the closed door was a room that was split in half. The left side was where the suspect was held, in a room that was so thickly built of trees and other natural materials that had been found, that it was just about completely soundproof. Arissa had tested it herself and only the faint sound of a voice could be heard through the wall, but too muffled to understand. After the heavy door to the cell was closed and bolted from the outside, the sturdy, windowless room was impossible to escape from. The rest of the building was open, with a single table identical to the one in her quarters.
The moment Arissa stepped through the door, she heard the quick, upset rush of many voices. At the sight of their leader, everyone immediately quieted until Arissa removed her hood and turned to face them.
There were half a dozen people in the room, all with a worried, panic-stricken expression. Right away, she recognized the guard who had come to inform her of the capture, plus several other men that she had appointed as leaders. One was a good hand to hand combat fighter that she had assigned to teach one of the training sessions daily, while the other was highly skilled in swordplay. The latter was mid height, slightly shorter than Trax, who was thankfully absent, and had dark, choppy locks that had grown long, beginning to curl at the nape of his neck. A long, thin scare graced his right cheek, long healed, but still present, proof of his skills and knowledge of survival.
A man that she indentified but couldn’t name stepped forward immediately, his icy eyes burning into hers, bleeding desperation as he spoke. “Good day. This man was found along the eastern border with no horse, no weaponry. He claims to have wandered in from the border, trying to escape his own land, but when he was asked his name, he refused and became uncooperative. With reason to question his allegiance, we deemed it appropriate to arrest and deliver,” the man declared to her, formally.
“Good,” she agreed, nodding. “Has he said anything else?”
The combat fighter spoke up. “I was here when they brought him in, blindfolded, of course. He said no words, but he seemed pleased with himself. He didn’t worry or question his capture and never wanted to know what was happening. It seemed like it was what he wanted.”
“That definitely sounds suspicious...but if he is a spy for the General, then how was it even possible to find this place? There are guards watching every single angle of our encampment. Were there any other signs?” Arissa stepped among the crowd, studying an object on the table. “What’s this?”
“His clothes are definitely not military, but they aren’t of a tradesman, either. This satchel was the only thing he carried with him.”
Without bothering to ask, Arissa moved quickly to the table to examine the bag. By the lack of offered information about the satchel, she assumed that no one had yet looked inside to see what it held. There was a prominent bump in the material, signalling that it concealed something.
No time or patience for hesitation, Arissa grasped the top flap of the bag and quickly flipped it up. Peering into the dark enclosure, it took her a moment to identify what she was seeing, but when she did, she started and jumped back slightly.
“Oh, god,” she gasped, her heart leaping into her throat. She stared into the bag, unbelieving and horrified.
Chapter Six
“Are you telling me that nobody knew about this? No one bothered to check what was in his satchel when you brought him in?” Arissa angrily spouted off, shooting angry glares at every face in the room. The eerie shivers still trickled down her spine, but her sudden frustration and temper was making it easier to push it away.
One of the men she didn’t recognize, who had been the one to apprehend the strange man that she still had not seen, spoke up, his words stuttered and worried. “I-I didn’t realize he would be carrying such a thing. I take full responsibility for allowing it to breech our camp.”
Arissa waved aside his apology and turned to face the guard who had summoned her. “Dispose of this!” she snapped, pointing to the slack, brown bag on the table. “Get it as far away from here as you can, right now!”
Several of the men appeared hesitant in their expression, but her vicious tone was even more frightening and they immediately took the satchel away, being careful and gentle and disappeared from the room.
Arissa didn’t wait before barking another command to the man nearest to her. “Open the door. I need to find out who this guy is.”
She felt utterly unnerved by what she had seen in the satchel, somehow making everything too real, all of a sudden. To let something like that infiltrate the border of their camp was too sloppy, something had to be done. Arissa needed to make a call that stepped up their game, make their barriers more powerful.
The moment the door to the enclosed space that held the prisoner was unlocked, she ordered over her shoulder, her words sharp and harsh, “Leave us.”
Waiting until the room was clear before advancing into the cell, Arissa dragged in a deep breath, closed her eyes and waited until her lungs burned for freedom. She hoped it would slow her racing heart, clear her exhausted and clouded mind. The last thing she did before stepping through the door was to make sure to leave any and all inhibitions she carried at the door. This was no time to be feeling the guilt about her family or the frustration that Trax caused her.
The moment her dark eyes flashed open, a new person emerged from her soul. The person she knew she had to be, the kind she wanted to be. She had her whole life’s worth of practise at keeping people out and shunning away her emotions. With enough concentration, she was able to do it on cue, as she just had. Reminding herself that this was who she would have to be if she was going to advance in this war, she narrowed her eyes, feeling nothing but anger and determination pulsing through her and entered the enclosed chamber.
Leaving the door open allowed enough light in to sufficiently fill the room so that it was visible, Arissa’s eyes drilled into the back of the man who was imprisoned. He wore a dark jacket that fell past his waist, made of a thinner, more flexible and weaker material than her cloak or Trax’s leather coat. His hair was grown longer than most of the men in her camp and he seemed unkempt. Around his wrists were thick manacles attached to a chain that was bolted from floor to ceiling. He was able to move but unable to escape.
He stood tall and still, his head tilted up as if pondering. Whether he knew of her presence or not was unclear, but he kept his back turned solidly toward her. There was something about the way he was appeared so calm, so accepting and relaxed that unnerved Arissa. Instead of trying to escape or worry about his incarceration, his general aura seemed relatively pleased.
Arissa wasn’t buying it. “Who are you?”
It was obvious that he had known of her presence, especially with the light flooding into the room. He didn’t respond for a moment, but then he cocked his head to the other side, still facing away from her, and responded in a voice that was strange to her, “You don’t see many women in the military anymore.”
His words were curt, the underlying tone of his voice rough and unpleasant. Perhaps it was accented, but Arissa couldn’t be sure. Accents were one of the few things that were strictly forbidden in their land. Her former duty
in the General’s command had been working in what had been called the Identification Transfer, or the IT. There she had sorted and separated hordes of people from foreign and far off lands. Her orders were clear. Unity. Equality. For a reason that Arissa had still not been able to figure out, the General was set on only having people in his military and their land that shared the same characteristics. Brighter shades of hair, darkened skin and foreign accents were all strictly forbidden, among other less obvious criteria. Because of natural qualities a person held, thousands had been sent to their deaths for this reason, all by Arissa’s hand. After so many years of the vile work, Arissa had gotten to know just about every accent in the world. What she didn’t know was where those people had come from or the names of any place other than the one she lived in, which wasn’t even named, simply labelled by the general population ‘The Territory’.
This man held several familiar qualities to those that she had seen while in the IT system, but never one exactly like him. His voice was mysterious, but his skin was also a slight darker, olive shade, his hair black as coal. Still, he had not moved.
“I am not in the military,” Arissa’s low, demanding voice spoke out. A moment passed before she added, slightly whispered. “Turn around.”
Her hand twitched, wanting to instinctively reach for the dagger that was fastened in the sheath across her back. She resisted, wanting to appear as fearless as she felt at the moment. The man turned and when she could see his face, she wondered again exactly where he was from. A person of this ethnicity would never be accepted into the society of her land. His features were utterly plain, nothing remarkable standing out to her whatsoever.
However, she still felt a discomforted shiver when his eerie, light grey eyes swept across her, trailing the length of her leather-clad body.
“You don’t see many women like you, at all.”
Speaking louder to drown out the echoing chill of his comment, Arissa asked again, “Who are you and how did you find us?”
The man was now fully facing her, his wrists bound together in front of him, the taut chain stretched vertical, holding him securely in place. She had been right by the vibe she had felt before, he was suspiciously smug. “Rather than worrying about how I got here, you might want to stay focused on knowing how many others will follow.”
“You’re not from anywhere around here,” Arissa stated, never missing a beat. “You certainly don’t have the intelligence to be military and judging by your attitude, you know who I am. So tell me what you know and I may consider sparing your life.”
“So gracious!” the man announced, strangely cheerful. He grinned, revealing crooked teeth and a distasteful gleam in his eye. “Instead of wanting to know things that don’t matter, you might want to spend your energy elsewhere. You want to know who I am, I will tell you. I am somebody that you are going to want to be more cordial to.”
Arissa scoffed, unsmiling. “I seriously doubt that.”
“I come bearing more than an exciting gift. I’ve brought you a message,” the man rattled off, casually, as if he were reciting words that he had rehearsed many times already.
By now, Arissa had begun pacing, both out of her own tension and she was also attempting to figure out what it was about this man that made her nervous. He was up to something, maybe even setting her up, but she couldn’t decide what it was. It felt so obvious, like it was so close to her that she was unable to see it.
“You’re quite the revisionist, you know that? You think that building this camp is going to stop the military from completely taking over your land? He’s too powerful and even with someone of your skill and tact, you stand no chance.”
The man hadn’t mentioned a name, but Arissa sensed he was talking about the General. She was right. This man was a spy. However, it was hard to decide who exactly he would be working for. Being accepted by the General was out of the question, with the darkened tone of his skin and the creepy accent. She couldn’t take anything he said seriously, it would either be a trap or an attempt to throw her off.
“Your camp is growing at an impressive rate and it’s clear that you’re gaining power, but so is he. Since the day that you escaped from your execution, he’s been plotting and planning and devising a way to get his revenge, to solve the problem that’s been in his way for years. The only threat he had against him which will soon be destroyed,” his drawling words dragged out, running together as he spoke smoothly, torturously slow. His cold, clear eyes seemed to look straight through her as he leaned forward, only a few feet from her and whispered, “You.”
Arissa had already known the answer, but hearing the single word spoken with such weight and distinction made her feel like another bullet had ripped through her chest, startling her. She worked hard to keep her face composed as she stared back at the man, unyielding in her position ahead of him.
“You can’t run forever. Your past will find you eventually, but if you wish to continue living what life you have left...I suggest you leave immediately. You won’t win...but it will drag the game out a little longer.”
Her unmoving eyes were just as heartless as the grey spheres that stared back at her, drilling into her gaze, blank yet full of burning victory. His hands were still bound together at the wrists, but he was able to move them as he spoke. Arissa began moving her feet slightly, breaking eye contact as she started to pace within close proximity of him.
The man dared to laugh when she didn’t respond. “You don’t have to listen to me! However...you’re going to wish that you had, especially after your pathetic excuse of a camp is reduced to a smoking pile of ashes.”
Luckily, Arissa happened to be in the perfect position when her temper snapped and her anger broke the surface. In one swift motion while standing slightly behind him, she reached out and grabbed a handful of his hair, jerking his head back. Simultaneously, she unsheathed the dagger slung across her back and had it pressed against his throat in less than a second. She was unable to tear her eyes away from watching the sharp metal blade crease the thin skin of his throat. Fisting her hand tighter, holding him in place, she focused on controlling the temper that was making her tremble.
Her voice was surprisingly steady and bitter despite the ball of fury in her throat. “I already have enough mind games to figure out as it is. For your own good, you are going to stop talking me in circles. Now, answer my question right now and you had better hope that I believe you, because if you aren’t telling the truth, you should know that I am fully prepared to use this knife.”
She hadn’t even finished speaking before he scoffed at her and a low chuckle escaped his throat. Pressing the blade even harder to his throat made him take a ragged breath quickly and answered, mockingly, “Threatening one’s life generally is the most productive form of interrogation...but it won’t work on me. I have nothing to lose. You see, I came here already a dead man. I’m assuming you found the gift I’ve brought you.”
Arissa refused to shift her position, keeping focus on every miniscule move he made. This man would never see sunlight again. He was obviously a part of something that until now she had been ignorant of, something that could pose a potential threat. She would get all the information from him that she could, and then she would kill him herself.
“Bringing a live bomb into my camp was a really stupid move. It’s been disposed of. Your plan didn’t work and you’ve failed. It’s cost your life.”
“Did you ever stop to question why it was so obvious? Of course you didn’t,” he answered for her. His tone had fallen from the superior, taunting to a more serious, almost angry pitch. “I don’t know who you think you’re fooling besides yourself. You’re no leader. You don’t know how to think about the big picture, about anything other than your own goal. Nobody else’s life concerns you and you’re only worried about present threats, never thinking ahead about what they could lead to until it’s too late.”
Arissa nearly dropped the dagger. Her eyes had shot up to stare at a random area
in the space ahead of her as the truth in his words piled on her, weighing heavier than all of her previous concerns. Her muscles were stinging from the constant shivers that had rocked through her and then refused to leave, feeling as if her hair was standing on end.
She couldn’t speak even if she had anything spiteful to say to him.
Still straining pointlessly away from the sharp edge of her dagger, the man panted heavily, whispering the last words she heard him speak, “I would say you’re the one who has failed.”
In the next instant, Arissa released her grip in his hair, shoving him forward. Purposefully, while yanking her knife away from him, she tilted it at an angle so that the gleaming tip would just barely touch his cheek, ripping through the skin effortlessly. It left behind a thin, red line that immediately began to drip and stream down his face, staining his skin as he slung a line of distasteful profanities towards her.
Returning her dagger to the scabbard, Arissa turned, stalking out of the cell as quickly as possible. She slammed the door, jamming the bolted lock shut as loudly and tightly as it would go. On her way past the guards, she ordered harshly for them to keep him captive indefinitely, then stormed off through the forest toward the training fields.
Chapter Seven
Arissa spent the rest of the day in the practise fields, ghosting to the different stations. She taught a group of intermediate soldiers to perfect their accuracy with a bow and corrected most of the knife throwers how to release the daggers so that they didn’t hit the targets handle-first and fall to the ground. Spending the majority of the day in the practise areas was the last thing she had wanted to do, but it gave her the feeling of freedom, being away from the enclosed campsite. Watching the men trying their hardest to improve their skills and throwing out the occasional reminder to some, it was enough to keep Arissa’s mind away from everything that had happened since the night before.
