Without Rhythm (The Lament)
Page 1
Orange Cat Publishing
Titles by P.S. Power
Young Ancients:
(Tor)
The Builder
Knight Esquire
Knight of the Realm
Ambassador
Counselor
Slave Line
(Timon)
The Dark Half of the Sun
Dead End:
A Very Good Man
A Very Good Neighbor
A Very Good Thing
A Very Dark Place
Keeley Thomson:
Demon Girl
Keelzabub
Mistress of Souls
*Christmas of the Vampire
(Related Universe Novella)
Gwen Farris:
Abominations
Monsters
The Infected:
Proxy
Gabriel
Cast Iron
Proxy: Reunions
The Lament:
Without Rhythm
Other Places:
Shortcuts
Stand Alone Titles by P.S. Power
Crayons
Unrelenting Terror
Without
Rhythm
P.S. Power
Chapter one
"I'm so sorry... Your leg..." Tears ran down Pran's face as she said the words, meaning them, but also feeling horrible about a lot of other things too. It was selfish to consider herself at the same time, but it happened anyway. Her right hand moved out as if to touch her friend's injured limb. It was badly broken and the bandages were professional, crisp and new, but it didn't have a splint on it yet. There hadn't been time for the swelling to go down that much. If they bound it too soon the circulation could be cut off and that could cost him his leg.
"I'll heal. What are they going to do to us do you think?" Bard Sollen gave her a scared look, his young features tight. That part of things had saved him, when the schools council had met with her earlier. He was young. Only fourteen.
As the oldest person involved in the prank it was her part to take the fall. This one was a bit worse than most of the other times though. A whole lot. It still hadn't really sunk in yet just how much so. She'd been kicked out. In fact, if she didn't get her stuff and get out, right then, the Guardians would be called and she'd be facing a Judge in the morning. There was one in town at the moment even, so the threat wasn't just an empty thing to scare her. That thought terrified her. Judges were known to be hard on people that made mistakes.
Especially if those people had an idea that they were doing so when it happened.
Pran had known. It was a horrible idea she'd had, stealing the statue and replacing it with one that she'd carved herself. It was only a temporary thing, meant as an end of term joke, a thing for everyone to remember for years, before she went off on her apprenticeship. But due to an error in how the ropes were rigged both statues slipped, the one of the first councilman and her lovely horse with its rippling muscles and flowing mane. It was the school mascot after all, so wasn't a big insult to put up. Even the panel had said so as they kicked her out. It wasn't about some imagined slight, but the harm done by her miscalculation.
The day before she was supposed to graduate.
The idea was horrifying. She really couldn't believe it. Seven years of schooling, and they were going to refuse her credentials. Forever. It wasn't like she was being allowed to switch schools even, or do the year over. They'd said that she was too old to have gotten another student hurt and felt that they didn't have any other choice.
She sighed lying so the kid in front of her wouldn't worry.
"Oh, you know, some minor fall out. You'll have a few detentions and the others will have to clean some toilets before the school is satisfied. I have to pay for a new statue of Michael Morse, or make one that's as good as what we had. I'm thinking of doing that, when I get a chance. It sounds cheaper. Plus it wasn't a great statue, so I can easily do better." She forced her voice to be chipper. It wasn't like she hadn't had acting lessons after all. She was a Bard, or used to be.
Now she was just Pran. Not Bard Pran, not even Pran Grange, just... her. Alone in the world without a clue how to make it. She didn't even have pocket money, since she was a student, there on the ruling council's say so. They took care of the kids' needs, while they were at school, but it meant that she was leaving with nothing. Not even the small statues she made really belonged to her, since the materials had all been given to her. Her instruments as well. The idea hit hard. She had nothing. Not even clothes.
Out of "kindness" the schools council had left her what she was wearing, a plain gray canvas student's uniform. She couldn't even go to her room for anything. She'd had to see to Sollen so had risked arrest to do it. He'd trusted her to get it all right and the piece of statuary that had hit him was her fault. She'd misjudged the slope of the roof and the weight of the statues by too much, her horse being heavier by about half. The crash had been horrific, but the screaming was worse. She could still hear it, even as he started speaking.
"Oh? Well, I'll help you with it. We all will. Of course you'll be off doing rounds and making a name for yourself, so I guess I'll be stuck doing it all? My carving isn't half of what you could do." His grin was infectious, even as scared as she was at the moment.
"Are they letting you dodge out on detention too then? Hardly fair. Well, nothing to be done about it, you are one of the top students, I guess they kind of have to play favorites, don't they? They'd be insane not to."
The form in the door was that of the Headmaster, who had two strong looking dance instructors with him, from the boys' section, probably to throw her out if she didn't go on her own. Like she was going to fight about it? That wouldn't help her at all and would just be embarrassing.
"Looks like my signal to get out of here and leave you to heal up. I'll take you up on that offer to do the statue though, I don't know when I'll get a chance to settle down anywhere." She smiled again and touched his arm gently.
"Heal fast. Don't miss any school, even if they tell you that you need rest. They won't wait for you, no matter what they claim." It was the rule. All the students worth their upkeep went to class each day and worked at projects all evening. If you didn't there was a good chance that you'd be dropped from the program. Getting hurt would actually let Sollen have some slack, but it wasn't much, and falling behind could mean not making it at all.
Spending all that time in school to become a full Bard and then not being allowed it... She shook her head. Behind her the Headmaster cleared his throat. It sounded disapproving to her, but she didn't care. There was no undoing what had happened, and, as far as she could tell, her life was over. She didn't need to be kicked out and beaten in the same day so Pran decided to just leave, pushing past the man a little roughly as she did.
It was grumpy of her, but screw it, she was angry and scared. What did he expect? They were tossing her out to starve or worse and knew they were doing it. They had to.
"B... Pran... I argued against your dismissal you know. It was a mistake and a bad one, but this... I don't think they really understand what they're doing. We'll fix it somehow..." The man wore his teal green robes well, lean and good looking, even with his gray hair and soft job. He kept up with his skills after all, and worked at least as hard at his job as the kids did learning their trade. Maybe harder.
"I know. It isn't their lives that they destroyed. But what am I supposed to do about it? Those with power always abuse it without thinking, and leave you alone in the world. That's how things go, isn't it?" She walked then, not wanting Sollen to hear her if she started bawling like a little kid. It was tempting after all, even if it wouldn't help fix things.
"I have nothi
ng. It's not like I can just run back to my family. The orphanage doesn't take kids back you know. Not at my age. I feel horrible about Sollen's leg, but this is a death sentence. Or at least one that will lead to extreme hardship. Without an apprenticeship I can't work for the High Council and without that... There's no point in my having gone to school here at all, is there? I can't call myself a Bard legally and without that I can't even get a job in a reputable tavern. Not unless I want to sling drinks, which, by the way, I don't know how to do. You really should have put that in as one of the classes, shouldn't you?" Her anger was rising, a self-defense mechanism she'd learned as a child. A lot of things in life weren't fair, but when the bullies tried to take your food, you ended up with more to eat if you fought hard, every time, than if you tried to appease them. True you'd be beaten each time too, but in the end it was worth it.
That didn't mean anything in this situation. Nothing at all, because the school council was too far above her in power. She was done and had to work things out for herself. There was just nothing she could do to stop it.
"Pran..." The man sounded kind and a bit concerned, but didn't try to touch her, which was a good thing.
Not that she'd have hurt him, but it probably would have made her lose it and start crying. Instead he let her go then, walking away fast, not following after the first few steps.
It was her fault and her punishment, but damned if it didn't hurt to leave anyway.
She couldn't have just gone away the next day, gotten her assignment and acted like a regular person? No, of course not. She was all mighty Pran, the wonder Bard. She'd had to do something to make everyone remember her. Well, they probably would now, wouldn't they? Maybe they'd throw her crumbs when they saw her begging on the street? She kind of hoped so, because the meeting had taken all day and it was starting to get dark out. A night outside, without any food that day was going to be less than fun. The ones to follow that would be even worse. She needed a plan and fast, or she'd just die. What could someone like her reasonably do though?
Walking in a daze, Pran wondered if anyone on the street would be willing to take her in. Maybe if she found some old guy she could let him have sex with her for room and board, while she figured out what to do? It wouldn't be fun, since she'd never done that kind of thing, but her options were pretty limited. It was pretty much do something like that... whore herself outright, or find someone that was willing to marry her fast. That last one wasn't very likely either. She didn't know anything about homemaking and didn't really want to have children. Even if she did, that wasn't a thing she knew about either. Being a parent? She'd never even seen it being done.
The facts were hard, but she knew that her best bet was probably to try getting some money having sex with men on the street. If she could get enough, fast, she could leave town and start over someplace else. Maybe...
That was the thing though, there wasn't anything else. Not for someone her age. She'd had her chance in life and it was all gone now, because she'd had to be special.
Well, now she'd get to be special servicing some guy in an alley. Only if she was lucky though. The town outside the school was small and they didn't have regular street walkers that she knew of. Maybe if she went to the local tavern and waited outside? If it was done some other way, she didn't know about it at all. Then, why would she? Her life had been inside the walls of the Grange with only brief trips outside to work in the gardens until she was nine, and after that she'd worked at being the best student she could. There hadn't been time for anything else. If she had skills that would let her survive out in the world, she didn't know what they were, which was nearly the same as not having them at all.
So, liking it or not, and she really didn't, she started looking for a collection of people that might indicate some drinking or carousing going on. Drunk people meant possible work now, so she'd just have to do it and hope for the best.
Not that she knew what to do.
Again it was the part about being a good student that foiled her unfairly. When the other kids were meeting up in the stairwells at night to experiment with sex, she'd either been sleeping or working on something. A new song, an instrumental piece, or work of art. She'd kissed a boy, one time, but that had been less her trying to do it and more an ambush as she came around a corner. It hadn't even been meant for her, which kind of meant it didn't count. It had been an older boy, Ben, who'd blushed and looked away when he realized who was standing there.
The streets were made of old stone, rounded by time, or possibly by river water, no two matching exactly and held in place by simple concrete. From the color it looked to be made of sand and lime, with some larger rocks mixed in as filler. They'd used too much stone, so the whole thing was flaking out of the seams. That was kind of shoddy work. They'd need to redo it all in a few years and that would cost more than doing it right the first time. Shaking her head she made a point of smiling, trying not to carry herself like a reject. After all, no one would want to... use her, if she seemed terrified and downcast, would they? Her brown hair was already too short, cut like a boy's almost, and her flat chest wouldn't do a lot for most men. At least it hadn't at any point in her life yet.
The sound of singing drew her in, toward a place that was dimly lit on the outside, but had real electric lights inside. That or some kind of arc lighting. She'd had a class on how to make such things, for decorative purposes, but they were expensive to have around. Most people didn't bother unless it was for business reasons. Doctors that had to work at night for instance, or mid-wives. It looked like taverns counted too. At least this one had them. It seemed wasteful to her, but so did drinking, which wasn't prohibited, or even frowned on too much.
Technically she was too young to drink herself, at least until the next day, but sixteen was coming soon for her and no one in the world would care what she did now. She didn't have a time piece, but figured it would be about three hours or so. The air was getting chilly, since it was October, and the dark had closed around her, nearly hiding her from everyone. It didn't seem like her decision to try standing outside the place was a good one, because no one came out for a long time. There was noise though and some people singing loudly along with an instrumental piece. They were drowning it out fairly well, if off key. Whoever was playing was decent enough. Not great, not even as good as she was, but probably better than this place needed if they wanted to keep screaming like that.
"Bend over and let me do it, or I'll cut you, bitch." The voice was slurred, drunken and surly, but also a ways off. "I said bend over!"
Loud though, so Pran didn't have to guess very hard as to where it was coming from.
"No! I'm...Don't hurt me, please!" The woman sounded panicked, and it was either real or she was a full Bard herself, since no one else would have the acting skills to pull that off. "I...I have a family, a husband and children, please don't do this to me!"
"Shut up and get against the wall! If you want to get home to your man and kids don't make me wait. I tend to get impatient... and you don't want that to happen, now do you?"
There was a gasp of pain, a sudden intake of breath and the sound of tearing cloth.
Pran froze. Someone, a woman, was about to be raped and... she was the only one there. The logical thing was what she did, which was to start screaming while running toward the tavern door.
"Help! Help! Rape! Help! Out on the street! A woman..." She kept at it for a while, even opening the door. No one came out.
One patron even glared at her angrily.
"Shut up or I'll give you rape, you dumb snipe!" He was an older man, bald and poorly dressed, holding a metal mug in his fist, glaring at her with a surly expression.
For the second time in a minute, she froze again. No one had even stood up to see what was happening. Only a few looked over and after a bit she realized from the stillness in the room those not looking were actively trying not to see or hear her. They knew it was happening, they were just too afraid to do anything about it. Tha
t was something she could understand, but if they all helped it wouldn't be too dangerous, would it?
Running back a few steps she could hear it still happening, there in the alley, right next to the building. A man grunting and a woman alternating between crying and pleading.
"Here, none of that!" There was a sound of a single blow and another cry of pain then.
That decided Pran. She didn't know what to do, but she wasn't letting this happen. Not if she could stop it. She wasn't a fighter, of course. Not other than the bit she'd learned as a child to protect her supper from the larger children. She did the only thing that came to mind then and yelled at the top of her lungs, trying to seem older and bigger than she really was. She might not be a Bard now, but she'd done well in her classes.
"Halt! Guardians. Cease all activity and move to the wall. Now!" It was all acting, her voice as large and loud as she could make it. The grunting barely altered at all.
The woman cried out though.
"Help!"
This time there were several blows and curses that followed.
Pran ran into the dark space between buildings, wondering if it was just her time to die. That kind of made sense, what with the day she was having already. Well, she didn't have anything to live for anyway and this woman had her husband and kids. She couldn't see anything at all, but found them quickly enough, the sound of meat slapping against meat clear. Conveniently she nearly tripped on them, her right hand grasping something coarse and thick, a man's work jacket most likely. It was too dark to make out even a hint of where he was, but Pran growled at him anyway, giving the man a solid blow that landed on his head. A slap really, but then all her fighting experience had been against other children. They weren't exactly professionals at the Grange.
"I said, 'halt, Guardians', is some part of that too hard for you to understand? Now get against the wall or I'll have to take measures."