The Emperor's Concubine

by Killarney Sheffield

  “Are we practicing, or flirting?” Sasha grinds out between clenched teeth.

  I turn my attention to her scowling face and raise my weapon. My first strike is met by her blade as is the second and third. On my fourth swing she darts forward and catches my shin with hers, hooking around behind and toppling me to the ground. Before I can catch my breath she has her dull blade pressing into my windpipe. Anger pushes to the surface as I lay there prone and defenseless. “What is your problem, Sasha?”

  “You are my problem.” Sasha puts pressure on the blade. “You think you’re something, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I squeak.

  “Little miss queen of the concubines. You think you can have any man you want now. What’s the matter, Sol not good enough for you?”

  “Sol is all I need.”

  Sasha’s eyes narrow. “So you’re just playing with Link then? I’m sure he’d like to know you’re just amusing yourself at his expense.”

  Grasping her blade I shove it away and sit up. “Link and I are just friends. He wants more, but I love Sol.”

  “Sure he does. Just because you won one morbid pageant doesn’t make you desirable to all men,” Sasha snarls.

  “I can assure you I don’t think that and I have no romantic designs on Link at all.” Getting to my feet I glare at her. “Is that why you hate me?”

  “It’s reason enough.” Sasha returns to her spot and takes up fighting stance. “Again.”

  Anger fuels me as I meet her thrust for thrust, feign for feign. Left, right, centre... left, right, centre. When she drops her hand slightly I move in for the kill shot, backing her right up against the fence. We lock eyes and stand there panting for a few moments recovering our breath. “I am not interested in Link.”

  The look in her eyes doesn’t soften, but her voice does, “Make sure you keep it that way, Messiah.” Shoving my blade aside, she stalks from the practise area.

  With a sigh, I replace my blade in the bin holding the other weapons and head for the horse corral. At least I know why she hates me now, not that it makes much difference in the scheme of things.

  I’m leaning on the fence watching Mischief and the grey gelding Topper sleep when soft footsteps approach from behind. Spinning around I prepare to do verbal battle against Sasha again, but spy Danika instead.

  Danika smiles. “Hey.”

  “Hay is for horses.” I grin and return to resting against the fence.

  “I saw what happened.” Danika leans on the rails beside me.

  I can’t help but grimace. “At least I know why Sasha hates me so much.”

  “I could have told you she has a thing for Link.”

  Surprised, I glance at my friend. “How did you know?”

  She shrugs. “She follows him around all day long and makes sure she sits next to him at meals and campfire time.”

  “Huh. I guess I never noticed before.”

  “You’ve been too busy.”

  I focus on my friend. “I’m sorry. I guess I haven’t been too good a friend lately.”

  “That’s all right.” She smiles at me and then turns to watch the horses. “So, do you think we stand a chance?”

  Turning back to the corral I watch Mischief roll and then get up and shake. “Maybe, not in a battle though. I mean, I think Link and I can sneak back in and rally the people, but if it comes to a war sticks and swords aren’t going to cut it against the enforcers with Tasers and chemical weapons.”

  “So why try?”

  She has a point. “I have to, for my grandparents, Mom, Dad and Petie. And for Stacy.” I turn to her searching gaze. “And for you. Your mom is back there all alone and it’s my fault.”

  “How is it your fault?”

  “You fought to stay with me.”

  A tear slips down Danika’s cheek. “If I hadn’t I’d be dead right now, ethnically cleansed by the Emperor. Staying with you saved my life.”

  Hanging my head, I ponder her words. “I thought about killing myself like Stacy, you know. I couldn’t do it. I was a coward.”

  “You’re not a coward. You are the bravest person I know.”

  I let her words rest between us. Am I brave? Am I a hero? Am I the savior? No. I am just one person fighting for what’s right, trying to survive. Whether I succeed or not depends on Sol, Link and the rest of the people who put their trust in me to escape. And even in those who hate me like Sasha. Our plan to free the rest of those in Imram who want to escape can’t fail. I can’t let them down.

  * * *

  Something ticks against the window pane. I sit up in bed and then tip toe to the window. A pebble bounces off the glass where my hand rests, startling me. I hope it’s not Sol here to visit. As much as I love our midnight trysts, tonight is not the night. Peering through the dark I spy Link in the shadows and heave a sigh of relief. For a fleeting moment I panic. What if Sol is on his way to my window right now and spies Link? He’ll never believe, or forgive me when I say it is not what it looks like. I had better hurry. Turning away I slip my nightdress over my head, tug on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and socks. Snatching up my boots and a sweater, I creep from my room. The letter I penned my granddad crinkles in my pocket and I pull it out. Once down the stairs I place the paper on the kitchen table where I’m sure granddad will find it and slip out the back door.

  Link meets me on the step. “I’ve got the horses saddled.”

  “Are you sure about this, Link?”

  “There isn’t time for second thoughts now. Imram is counting on you.”

  Squaring my shoulders, I follow him through the shadows to the corral nearest the tack hut. The big grey I prefer and a smaller sorrel horse stand saddled and ready. “What about those training to fight and the people who were left behind on the outside trickling in to help?”

  “Rhett has their training under control in my stead, even the girls are getting pretty good.” Link mounts his horse and urges it down the lane.

  After one last look at the dark house and quiet stables where the concubines sleep, I follow him down the path to the open field beyond. Once we are out in the open we urge our horses faster over the soft ground. “It shouldn’t take as long to get back to the city with the horses. What do you think, two or three days?”

  Link glances at me. “Not long.”

  By the time we reach the trees, the sun is breaching the horizon. We slow to a walk along a path through the forest. “Are you sure you know the way back?”

  He scans the forest. “Yes.”

  It appears Link is tense and not in the mood to talk this morning. Is it our mission that stills his tongue? On the other hand I’m nervous and need to talk. “How do you plan on getting back into the city? We can’t just go back up the chute.” Shivering I try to block out the image of the pit of decaying bodies.

  “I have connections.”

  “Do I know them?”

  “We need to pick up the pace. No time for talk.” With that Link urges his horse into a steady trot and forges ahead.

  Frowning, I follow suit. Maybe I made a mistake heading out with Link. Perhaps I should have listened to Sol. What if our mission is more dangerous than Link let on? Is that why he is so uncommunicative this morning? I should have insisted on Sol coming... When I duck to avoid a low branch my horse almost collides with Link’s. He has stopped his mount and is climbing down in a small clearing.

  “What are you doing? I thought we were in a hurry?” I grouse.

  “Get down.”

  Puzzled, I regard Link. “Why?”

  “We are going to leave the horses here.” He takes a hold of my reins.

  With little other choice I climb down. “But we still have a long way to go.”

  Once I’m clear of the horse he turns it around and slaps it on the rump. Both animals head back the way they came at a run. I watch them go, confused and annoyed. A whirling sound catches my attention and the trees began to sway under an unseen force. Dirt and d
ebris began lifting from the ground, swirling about the clearing, obstructing my view. Covering my eyes I crouch down. “What’s happening?”

  “Stay down,” Link growls.

  Squinting through the dust I can just make out a large shiny metallic object descending. After a few moments the noise stops and the dust in the clearing settles. I get to my feet as Link catches hold of my arm. We are surrounded by a dozen armed enforcers. Too late I see the blue flash of the Taser before the jolt of electricity freezes me. My body convulses as I sag to the ground. Link’s face is the last thing I register as I slip into blackness.

  * * *

  Goosebumps rise on my arms at the chill in the room and an overhead buzzing irritates me. I open my eyes blinking at the bright white intrusive light. My mouth is dry and my limbs stiff. When I try to sit up I find myself shackled to the hard table. “Link?”

  Something moves and I turn my head in that direction. A woman in a stiff brown bob wig and an infectious mask fastened over her lower face looks up from her seat at a desk by the door.

  After licking my lips to moisten them I ask, “Where am I?”

  “You are back in Imram where you belong, Number Two-twenty-three.”

  With a groan, I lay back to stare up at the ceiling. Was it all a dream? Did I really escape only to be recaptured and returned to the cement city? “Where’s Link?”

  The woman ignores my question.

  I’m carefully considering my options when a doctor enters the room. A snicker slips from my lips when I see he’s wearing a complete hazmat suit. Good Lord! It appears he actually believes the world outside is toxic. He stops short when he spies the nurse in only gloves and a mask. “Protocol requires full body suits when dealing with an escapee, nurse.”

  She glances at me and then blanches. “Yes sir, sorry sir.”

  “Consider yourself under quarantine.”

  Her mouth opens in protest and then snaps shut.

  The doctor approaches with a meter of some kind which he passes over my body from head to toe. With a frown he studies the reading and then taps the device on his hand and re scans me. His look is puzzled and he checks the batteries in the back of the unit before setting it down. “Open your mouth.”

  “I’m not sick.”

  He glares at me and repeats, “Open your mouth.”

  With a sigh, I do as I’m told. It’s not like I have a choice in the matter.

  After he looks in my mouth he checks my sinuses, ears, eyes and then takes my pulse. “Normal,” he mumbles either to himself or for the nurse’s benefit, I’m not really sure which. “I want a full body scan immediately, nurse.”

  “Yes, sir.” She swings a large screen on a long metal arm over top of the table and positions it above my head. After pressing a couple buttons on her tablet it whirls to life and inch by inch moves down my body. When it gets to my abdomen the doctor holds up a hand. “Stop.”

  The nurse taps her tablet and the machine halts. Her eyes widen as she stares at the screen over the doctor’s shoulder. “Is that what I think it is?”

  Startled I try and sit up, but the restraints hold me in place. “What? What’s wrong? What do you see?”

  The doctor ignores me. “Inform the Emperor immediately.”

  The nurse hurries to the intercom and taps in a code to reach the emperor’s office. After a moment it’s answered.

  “Emperor’s office.”

  “Please inform the Emperor that concubine Two-twenty-three is cleared and nesting approximately four.” The nurse hangs up.

  “Can someone please tell me what’s going on?”

  The doctor turns to me. “Congratulations, Two-twenty-three, you’re four weeks pregnant.”

  It’s as if the world has suddenly dropped out from under me. Oh no. Oh no, no, no... This can’t be happening. The room seems to swirl and my stomach gets queasy. For once I’m glad I’m secured to the table.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  I’m given free run of the Emperor’s mansion, yet I keep to myself in the suite I used to share with Danika. The morning after my speech I rise with no real interest in anything. All night long I tossed and turned with the knowledge of all the lives that will be lost in order to save Petie, my Ma, Pa and Link. Have I been selfish to doom all the minorities in exchange for my family and friend? I’m glad I will never see Danika again, for I couldn’t face her if she knew my words were her mother’s death. Now I wish I had drawn the beauty blade across my wrists those many weeks ago. I curse my lack of courage. It’s possible the Emperor realizes the extent of my self-loathing because all sharp objects are missing from the white house and the kitchen is locked tight.

  Even though I know she doesn’t deserve my apology, I wish to speak to the Empress. There is no way the Emperor is going to allow it though I’m sure, if she isn’t already dead. Before I can wonder how I came to be there, I find myself on the rooftop overlooking the Emperor’s compound. Turning I trail my fingers along the silken sheets where I once lay with Sol. I will love and cherish his son, or daughter and pray he, or she will never know the horrific deeds I’ve done. “Number Two-twenty-three?”

  Startled, I pivot to find an enforcer standing in the stair doorway. How did he know I was here?

  He removes his helmet and crosses to stand before me.

  Am I in trouble? Fear is a most unwelcome feeling after days of numbness. “What do you want?”

  He lowers his voice, “Never fear, I’m a friend. Miguel sent me.”

  Is this a trick, or has Miguel found another sympathizer?

  “If you’ll come with me I will gladly take you to him.”

  “Why?” It seems silly to ask. Do I really care why? I need a friend right now and Miguel is the only one I have left. I hope.

  “Come with me.” He turns away and heads back downstairs.

  I shuffle after him, unable to muster any joy, even though I desperately need to see a friendly face. Head down, I follow the enforcer out of the Emperor’s compound and into the shopping district of the official’s hub. The streets are eerily empty, only the odd person strolling along. The few people who are on the streets don’t meet my gaze and hurry away when I approach. Is it because they believe I am contagious, or because they hate me? I have to assume they hate me for the deaths of their official’s wives as much as I loathe myself right now.

  At the end of the first block is Miguel’s bright yellow building labeled salon. The enforcer opens the door and stands aside to allow me to enter. Inside the salon is painted a matching cheery yellow which instead of lifting my spirits makes me more miserable.

  Miguel scurries from a back room with a big grin. “Ah, Ocean, so good to see you.”

  Without warning, I burst into tears and find myself enfolded in his arms. “Oh Miguel, what have I done?”

  “Hush, Ocean. Miguel is here, you are not alone.” He strokes my hair as I weep my torment into his silk shirt.

  “I betrayed them all. I had to. The emperor would have killed Petie...”

  “You have betrayed no one.” Miguel pulls away and gives me a little shake. “Come, sit and have a cup of tea.”

  Tea is the last thing on my mind, but I sit in the chair he pulls out. Once he pours two cups and sweetens them with soy sweetener, he presses one into my cold, shaking hands.

  “All is not lost, Ocean. There is a great rebellion at foot. The hubs buzz with hate for ze emperor. This hate will fuel their desire to fight for freedom, eh.”

  I can’t hide my disbelief. “How? I told them the land beyond these walls is inhabitable.”

  “Ocean, Ocean, Ocean.” Miguel grins. “You told a roomful of people only.”

  Bewildered I stare at him. “It was broadcast all over the hubs.”

  With a wink he takes a sip of his tea. “Then again, was it?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “We sabotaged ze broadcast.”

  Mouth agape I sit in stunned silence. “How?”

  “Your little speech wa
s only broadcast to ze official’s hub. The rest of Imram is blissfully ignorant.” He forces the cup of tea forgotten in my hand to my lips and waits until I take a sip before setting it down on the table between us. “The rest of Imram saw a special broadcast which announced your return unharmed from beyond Imram’s walls.”

  “The people don’t know of the execution of those girls?”

  “Not yet.”

  I don’t like the sound of that. “What do you mean, not yet?”

  “We need you to get ze disk, Ocean, then we will raise an army to fight ze Emperor. Now, tell me of ze outside. Is it as glorious as I remember?”

  * * *

  I return to the Emperor’s compound with renewed hope. All is not lost yet. Miguel has promised to arrange a secret meeting with the empress, even though he swears it is a waste of time. The empress is every bit a lecher as her husband insists, yet I can’t let her go to her death without at least giving her a chance at freedom. Not long after I return to the compound another enforcer summons me to come with him. I’m taken to the medical facility. There in one of the padded cells similar to the one I was held in after my capture and return to Imram, I find the Empress. She looks up at me from her spot huddled on a bare cot with unconcealed loathing and I recoil from the sight of her. Gone is the dark carefully styled wig. A few hairs stick up from her bald crown, but that isn’t what draws my horror. It’s her fingers. I’ve never seen her without gloves and now I know why. Her fingertips are black and shrivelled, nail-less and grotesque.

  It frightens me and I can’t help but hesitate before entering the room. “Empress, I’ve come to speak with you. I need you to listen as I haven’t much time.”