Grave

by L H Whitlock

  “I bring God’s blessings to you, Vulnitro. He has assured me Grave will be your finest champion. He above has wished you to keep him past his contract date, forever your champion.” The priest held out his arms and awaited his praise.

  Grave roared and jolted against his chains, biting back the pained cry that threatened to leave his throat. “No! I have fulfilled my ten-year contract. I am a free man.”

  Vulnitro slapped a hand in the center of Grave’s shoulders, the hooks digging into his hips and causing him to grunt in pain. His master’s hands smoothed down Grave’s back, the man’s nails catching in Grave’s still-healing scars.

  Vulnitro leaned closer and whispered in Grave’s ear. “You will never be a free man. You are my pet. Remember that. When you think of God, you think of me. When you pray at night, you shall pray to me.”

  No being would have that power or that control over him again, Grave had vowed. Only he controlled his fate, his life, his body. No one else.

  A frightened squeal cut through the pain and blood and darkness in his mind, and Grave found himself again in the woods. He blinked as reality spun in front of him and when he finally focused, he realized he had backed Nora up against a tree. Her wide, blue eyes glittered with fear, and she trembled as she stared at him.

  His forearm rested on the rough bark a foot above her head, and his other hand ached from being clenched in a fist for too long. She clutched the blanket to her chest and bit back another fearful cry.

  Grave dropped his arms limply to his side and backed up, his eyes never leaving hers. He tried to say he was sorry, but his words tangled in his throat. He tried to explain that he had lost himself to a memory, a horrible, horrible memory. But no words formed on his lips.

  What would be the point of defending himself anyway? He had already gone beyond the point of no return. He had just lost any hopes he might have had at gaining a friend.

  Nora swallowed and licked her lips. She brought a shaky hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear that kept blowing in her face.

  Grave reached a breaking point. He turned and strode back to the path to continue his perimeter search. Seeing her fear of him, fear he always knew she would feel, but for some reason hoped she wouldn’t, gave him an uncomfortable feeling.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets, and his fingers brushed against the key to her door. He clutched it in his hand, deciding he would leave it in the lock when he walked past her house and make sure no one took advantage from a distance. Once she was safe inside, he would vanish like he was supposed to.

  11

  Nora wiped her brow and stared up into the lavender mid-day sky dotted with puffs of white clouds. Sweat trickled down her temples, and her joints were stiff with the satisfying ache of a hard day’s labor.

  Lit-ta had given her a pair of leggings to try, and she found them way comfier then the slacks she had been given. Though they were easy to work in, she felt a bit self-conscious about how they clung to her legs and her bum, but thankfully the blouse she wore was long enough to cover most of it. She had knotted one side to keep the hanging fabric out of her way, but still loose enough to hide her swelling stomach.

  Across the way, a group of children played with a ball, throwing it back and forth and running in circles. Nora smiled. She hadn’t expected to find children in a place like this. Her hand drifted to rest on her stomach, maybe she would find a good home for her child here afterall.

  She dug her hands back into the soil, hand-tilling it so she could plant her seeds. Usually, she used tools for this sort of thing, but the soil had a lot of imperfections and large rocks that would hinder her plants’ growth. She found the most effective way was to do it by hand.

  Normally this would be a one-day job, pulling the weeds, tilling and planting the seeds, but these particular weeds had the determination and girth of a Vultian, and the ground froze every night. Realizing this, she spent two days building a tent to go over the garden to act as a greenhouse so the area would stay warm enough that the ground below would not freeze. She realized this was the reason she didn’t see a large mixture of fruits and vegetables in the market and that some of the more fragile crops were out of the colonists’ expertise.

  She used this to her advantage and decided to trade her common vegetables for much more exotic sorts in hopes to gain better trade value.

  Her mind wandered back to the topic she had been trying to ignore for days: Grave. Excitement, mixed with a tingling of fear, crept over her skin at the thought of his hooded figure in the dark, towering over her as the two were alone in the woods.

  She didn’t know why she wasn’t afraid of him. She should be. He was so large , aggressive, and had these moments where he lost himself. But it wasn’t just that. She felt something with him. She swore she could feel his pain, his loneliness, his desire to be around people but the realization that he didn’t know how. She saw it in his dark eyes And the pain she saw in them when he thought he had caused her to be afraid of him.

  Something had happened to him, and he was struggling. Nora didn’t want him to be so alone through all of that.

  She sighed as other thoughts entered her mind. “You can’t be attracted to a man when you haven’t even seen his face,” she scolded herself in an angry whisper as she shoved her hands back into the soil. “Besides, do you really need someone like him in your life? Don’t you have enough going on?”

  But below that anger and pain was something else. When Nora went home that night, she found a key in her lock and discovered that Grave had replaced the doorknob. She looked around for him, wishing to thank him, but he was nowhere in sight. The next morning, she found a pile of logs by her door, and each morning after was the same thing. And this morning a single purple flower sat perched atop the stack. Despite his aggression, Grave also seemed to have a tenderness to him.

  Just stay away from him. Lit-ta and Deon are right.

  Oh, but she wanted Grave in her life. Why? Well, maybe Hayme could draft up some sort of ceremony to tell me, she thought sarcastically, but she had no clue herself.

  After everything she had witnessed, Nora appreciated Grave’s insight, as dramatic as it may have been, into both the king’s and Hayme’s true selves. They were destroying life on Yunnika, and no one dared question them or try to stop them. But she bet Grave would. She bet he would be willing to out Hayme.

  She was too meek to stand up to them herself. She had just run away, uncaring of the consequences. Inside, she wanted to be strong and brave like Grave.

  A ball knocked against Nora’s knee, and she looked up to see the kids rushing toward her garden.

  “Sorry, Miss,” A scruffy looking brown-haired boy said.

  Nora smiled. “It’s no problem.” She studied the ball in her hands for many moments. It was intracately laced and had a swirly pattern etched into the hide. She had seen many suffrow balls, but none had this amount of detail. “This is beautiful.”

  She tossed it to the boy, but it landed several feet in front of him, making him have to run to the edge of her garden to grab it. Nora’s face heated.

  “Sorry about that. I’m not the best at throwing.”

  The boy grinned. “That ain’t nothing. You should see my ma’ throw. She’s way worse than you.”

  Nora laughed. “I’ll keep that a secret. Did you make it?” she asked, motioning to the ball.

  “No, Mr. Grave made it,” a girl who came to stand beside the boy answered. “He makes us a new one every time we lose one.” She had her green hair braided and pointy ears. If Nora weren’t mistaken, she would think the girl came from Yunnika.

  “Grave made this for you?”

  Both children nodded with vigor. “Oh, yes,” the girl replied. “He won’t play with us, though. I bet he’s a real good thrower.”

  “I’m sure he is, wh—”

  “Nora! You still at it?” Lit-ta, who was now coming up the road called out. As the children scattered back to their field, Nora wiped her eyes with h
er sleeve and waved at her approaching friends. The woman’s red hair was down and curled around her face. With the sway in her hips and jumpiness to her step, Lit-ta appeared young and innocent, the image of a queen. Deon was just behind her carrying a basket filled with the day’s haul.

  “How was the harvest?” Nora asked. She felt bad skipping out on them today, but it had taken her a long time to build her greenhouse, and she was behind.

  “Not so great. Half the damn plants died,” Deon said as he neared. “I’m interested to see how your little contraption works out.”

  Nora smiled. “Me too. I hope it does the trick because if not, I spent a lot of time and energy on nothing.”

  “Can we help you finish up? It’ll be dark soon.” Lit-ta didn’t wait for a response, she dropped to her knees at the other side of the plot and dug a shovel into the tough soil.

  The tips of Nora’s fingers had begun to throb hours ago from being dug into the dirt over and over.

  “You’re good at stuff like this,” Lit-ta said.

  “Thanks. I used to be a farmer.”

  “Why would a farmer from Yunnika come to a place like this?” Deon asked.

  Nora rolled her eyes and laughed. Deon had been trying to pry out the reason for her coming here for several nights now. But each time she refused to answer him.

  “I know, I know,” Deon said, changing his voice to a pitch that supposedly resembled her own. “Things changed, and I don’t want to talk about it.” He winked at her when she rolled her eyes and Lit-ta threw a chunk of dirt at him. It hit his shoulder, spraying dirt into the air, and Nora laughed.

  Deon clutched his shoulder and cried out in mock pain. “Women be painful, my dad always said. Now I know what he meant.”

  Lit-ta raised another clump of dirt threateningly, her face alight with happiness.

  “Don’t you dare sweet cheeks. You throw that at me, and I’m firing back.”

  Lit-ta tossed it. It hit his knee and Deon jumped to his feet, startling Lit-ta and sending her backward onto her butt. Deon raced over and tickled her ribs while Lit-ta shrieked and swatted at him.

  Nora watched the two with a wide grin and a slight sting to her heart. She wanted someone who was like that with her, who would be like that with her child. The image of Grave rose to the forefront of her consciousness again. Grave, tickling her. The thought nearly had her snorting with laughter.

  “Stop, stop,” Lit-ta said through desperate giggles. “We have to…finish…helping,” Lit-ta managed to get out between bouts of laughter and heavy breathes.

  Deon grinned and stood, offering Lit-ta a hand to help her up. “You’re right. Sorry. No playing around. It’ll be dark soon, and I don’t want to see Nora out here another day messing around with this thing she made.”

  Lit-ta grabbed Deon’s hand and pulled herself up, then brushed her pants off. When Deon turned to walk away, she playfully swatted his butt, and Deon gasped dramatically before giving her a smile that Nora felt guilty for witnessing. If those two weren’t lovers yet, Nora decided, they needed to start soon, before she vomited all over their little affectionate displays.

  “I didn’t realize there were so many kids here,” Nora said.

  “Oh yeah,” Lit-ta replied. “I was a bit surprised, too, but it makes sense. Most families don’t want to be separated, and children are born here too, they even have a midwife and some of the pre-natal equipment in the medical buildings.”

  “Pre-natal equipment?” Nora tried to hide her excitement by forcing herself to stare at her hands as they rapidly sifted through the dirt, tossing aside the imperfections.

  “You know,” Deon responded as he raked up a chunk of dirt, bent over and tossed some stones aside, “things to monitor heartbeats, ultrasounds, even a NICU? Things for pre and post care. Nothing special but the necessities at least.”

  “An ultrasound? You mean like when they can tell what gender the baby is?”

  Deon furrowed his brow then laughed. “That’s right. I forgot you used to live in the olden times.”

  “Well, it isn’t her fault,” Lit-ta said, coming to Nora’s defense. “It’s that king of theirs, that monarchy.”

  “Hayme,” Nora found herself saying before she could stop herself. “Hayme makes the decisions on what God will allow.”

  “Right,” Deon said. “Hayme, the king, whatever. It’s all archaic.”

  Lit-ta threw a chunk of dirt at Deon, who blocked it with the handle of his shovel and gave a boyish grin in triumph.

  Lit-ta rolled her eyes. “Deon, what did we talk about? Nora doesn’t know all this is out there and how behind—I mean, how…outsiders view her world.”

  Deon winced. “Sorry, Nora.”

  Nora stared at the last remaining bit of unsorted soil for a moment to gather herself. “It’s okay, I’m learning what’s really out there and learning the truth about Hayme and how he has altered our religion. I don’t even know what to believe anymore.” Nora’s nose tingled with emotion as she realized just how lost she was with all the truths she had learned. It wasn’t just Grave who said these things, but now others too.

  “You know about him altering the scrolls?” Lit-ta sounded shocked.

  Nora nodded. “Yeah, Grave told me.”

  “You talked with Grave about this?” Deon asked, coming to a halt on his work.

  “Deon…” Lit-ta argued, but Deon held out his arm.

  “Nora, you really need to stay away from that man. He’s dangerous. We told you what he is. He’s a killer, a murderer.”

  “He made this place,” Nora defended, feeling her fingers tingle and her heartbeat triple in anticipation of an upcoming argument. Why was she defending Grave, especially after their last conversation? She had no clue, but she felt she had to. Grave needed someone on his side.

  “Yes, he made this place to help keep him and his friends safe from their masters. He obviously doesn’t want to be around other people. Maybe you should take his hint and stay away from him.”

  “Maybe it’s because people talk about him like you just did and that’s why he doesn’t want to be around others,” Nora defended.

  “Listen, Nora, no offense, but it’s not safe for someone like you to be close to a man like him.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Nora asked.

  Lit-ta grabbed Deon’s arm. “Deon…don’t.”

  “You’re too gentle, Nora. A guy like that will break someone like you. Hell, a place like this will break someone like you.”

  Nora tamped down a mixture of anger and embarrassment. She stood, her knees wobbly from being bent too long and tingles shot down her legs.

  She hid her shaky hands in fists, and as calmly as she could, she looked Deon in his kind, brown eyes. “I think you guys should leave for the night. I can manage the rest on my own.”

  “Nora,” Lit-ta pleaded, taking several steps toward her, her hand outstretched in an attempt to make amends. But Nora could see in the woman’s red eyes that she felt the same way Deon did. She was just sad that Deon had said the words so roughly to poor, meek little Nora.

  Nora tried to blink back her tears, but one escaped and slid down her cheek. Her face burned with embarrassment. “Just go. I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner.”

  Lit-ta’s mouth pressed tight, and she nodded solemnly.

  “Damn it,” Deon cursed and laid the rake on the ground. “Just let us move your tent or greenhouse thing over the garden for you so you can lay the seeds down.”

  Nora tried to protest, but Lit-ta grabbed her hand and tugged her out of the way so Deon could move the covering.

  Shame crept through Nora’s veins. She couldn’t even do this herself; she needed Deon to move it because it was too heavy for her. Maybe she really didn’t belong in a place like this. How could she even consider keeping her child? How could she protect it? Maybe she should have just met her fate with the king.

  The women watched Deon cover the garden in silence. Once completed, he looked ove
r at them for a moment and hesitated, but cursed again and made his way back to Lit-ta’s house, dragging his feet.

  “Listen, Nora—” Lit-ta began once Deon was out of earshot, but Nora stopped her. She couldn’t take any more today.

  “It’s okay. I’ll be okay. It’s all just an adjustment, right?”

  Lit-ta’s eyes shone with unshed tears, and she bit her lip. “No, it’s not okay. Deon is just worried. There aren’t many women around, and he worries for your safety. You’re from such a different place.”

  “I know.” Nora smiled in hopes of reasurring her friend. “I just need some space.”

  Lit-ta dropped her head. “Okay. But promise you’ll have dinner with us tomorrow, even if you hate us.”

  Nora smiled. “I don’t hate you. As Deon said, I just come from a place stuck in the past, and I have a lot of catching up to do.”

  “Nora.” Lit-ta groaned. “He didn’t mean it like that.”

  “I’ll be fine.” Nora surprised herself with having an edge to her voice, one telling Lit-ta she wanted to end the conversation.

  Lit-ta released Nora’s hands. “Okay.” She hesitated. “You have some dirt on you.” Lit-ta brushed her hand over Nora’s stomach and paused, her eyes widening and her mouth opening in an unspoken question.

  Fear raced through Nora, and she rushed for cover inside the greenhouse. She listened intently over the soft flapping of the entry panels for Lit-ta’s departure. The other woman didn’t say anything but stood motionless for several moments before heading back to her hut.

  Dammit. Nora’s heart raced, and she collapsed to her knees. Dammit!

  12

  As darkness overtook the sanctuary, Grave prowled the walls, looking down on the encampment from the walkway atop the concrete fortress. It had been four days since his last encounter with Nora, but the memory burned in his mind just as ripe as the moment it had happened. The anger. The shame.

  She had been the only person other than Rikar and Helic who actually looked at him like a living being. Now he couldn’t bear seeing her. He had scared her, but worse of all insulted her intelligence, her religion, and the place she called home.