“I see they’re a good fit for you,” Ivan said with endearing enthusiasm.
Alexey nodded and looked around. He furrowed his brow when he noticed Alana was not in the room. “Where’d your daughter go?” Alexey inquired.
Ivan pointed towards the front door, which was open. Alexey exited the building and the cold breeze battered his face again as he stepped outside. He looked around the immediate area, unable to locate the girl. He walked back around to the stables, and surely enough Alana was there, standing by Anton Jr. When Alexey came into view, she perked up and nervously backed away from the horse.
“I wasn’t—” she muttered under her breath.
Alexey held his hands up to reassure her. “It’s okay. He’s a good horse.”
“W—what’s his name?”
Alexey smiled sadly. “Anton Jr.”
Alana smiled back. She peered at Anton Jr. and carefully began petting his lower back. When the horse perked up, Alana flinched and fell backwards into the mud. Alexey rushed towards her with concern but felt relieved when she laughed. He slowed his pace as he continued to walk over to pet Anton Jr.’s neck, and the horse met Alexey’s hand with a soft snort. Alana got up to her knees, her backside covered in mud, and continued petting Anton Jr.
“How old are you?” Alexey asked.
“Nine,” Alana replied.
“Have you ever ridden a horse before?”
“A couple of times, but I was really little,” said Alana.
“Did you enjoy it?” Alexey asked.
Alana nodded her head, continuing to smile sweetly.
“If you want, I’ll let ya keep Anton Jr., and you can go for rides whenever you want.”
“Really?” Alana perked up with gleeful excitement.
“So long as you and your dad promise to take good care of him,” Alexey said, continuing to pet the horse’s neck.
“I will, I promise!”
“Better go tell your Dad the good news,” said Alexey.
“Ok!” Alana stood up abruptly and ran around the house, back inside.
Alexey looked down at Anton Jr., who looked right back with the same contented look the real Anton had.
“You’ll be happier here than you would be with me, buddy.” Alexey scratched just below Anton Jr.’s ears, and the horse snorted with pleasure. “You’re from the Winterlands, and none of us do well in the North.”
After a few moments passed, Alexey heard the door open and close, then Ivan appeared beside him.
“I gave you some clothes, so you want to give my daughter a horse? That’s just too high a price, I can’t accept that,” said Ivan.
Alexey turned around to face Ivan. “The Winterguard will be looking for someone of my description on horseback, so I can’t keep him.”
“But won’t the Guard be looking for that horse? They’ll know you stopped here and nothing good can come from that!” Ivan’s voice was wrought with concern and desperation.
“You bought this horse from a northern trader. Change the look of the saddle to something more civilian-like and they’ll have no reason to distrust you.”
Ivan slightly stammered before speaking again. “B—but you have a long way to go before reaching the North, you plan on walking all the way there?”
“I’ve walked much longer through much colder, believe me.”
Ivan resigned and exhaled stiffly. “If you say so. Thank you, Alexey. My daughter hasn’t been happy since Milo left us. Having a horse will change that.”
“I’m glad,” said Alexey.
“Daddy!” Alana called out from outside the stables. Her footsteps pattered as she got closer, returning to the stables. “Daddy! Can Alexey play games with us tonight?”
Ivan hesitated slightly while looking back and forth between Alana and Alexey. “Um, if—if he wants to, sure.”
Alexey smiled, looking at Alana. “Sure.”
The three of them left the stables and went back into the main house. Alexey and Ivan stood by and watched curiously as Alana set up the dining table. She grabbed a tin cup and a copper coin, placed them on the table, and sat down. She looked at Ivan and Alexey with a befuddled look, as if she did not understand why they had not yet sat down. The two men shrugged and obliged, joining her at the table.
Without speaking, Alana shifted the cup until it sat in the center of the table. She grabbed the copper coin, carefully aimed her hand, then threw the coin down onto the table, bouncing it straight into the cup. Ivan furrowed his brow quizzically while Alexey was impressed.
“First try!” Alana said emphatically. “Your turn!” She pulled the coin out of the cup and slid it to Alexey.
Alexey picked up the coin and held it just above the table. “Here goes nothing!” He flicked the coin down onto the table, much like Alana had. The coin bounced at a straight angle, hitting the side of the cup with a loud cling.
Alana giggled. “You have to keep going until you make it in!”
Alexey chuckled. “We might be here a while then.”
Alexey attempted half a dozen more times to make the coin into the cup before he succeeded. He and Alana celebrated as he handed the coin to Ivan.
“I doubt I’ll perform as well as either of you,” Ivan said humbly. After ten failed attempts, he successfully put the coin into the cup on the eleventh.
The sun had completely set by the time they finished playing. Alana rested her head on the table, fast asleep. Ivan picked her up and carried her up the stairs. Alexey remained seated, staring silently at the table, which was marked by the points that the coin had been hitting. He dragged his finger along several of the marks, then yawned extravagantly. He began to close his eyes and drift in and out of consciousness.
“You’ll find the bed more comfortable, Alexey,” Ivan said as he came down the stairs.
Alexey jerked his head up, surprised. “Oh, uh, yeah. I just need to go feed Anton Jr.”
“Don’t worry about that, I’ll make sure he has what he needs.”
“Are you sure?” Alexey looked at Ivan quizzically.
“Of course. Now get some rest.” Ivan pat Alexey on the shoulder and walked out the door.
Alexey stood up and groaned as he stretched. He shambled towards the staircase and ascended it. Once on the second floor, he entered the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, falling asleep instantaneously.
CH 38 – Black Eyes X
Dark, cold, and alone. Black Eyes shivered inside the crate they had stuffed him in. Korgo’s Bargemen had taken him in the carriage, stuffed him inside a crate of some kind, and laughed as they handed him off to the others. He constantly heard their voices, but he never saw their faces, nor did he learn their names. The only time they ever acknowledged his existence was to stuff stale food through the crate holes. They only gave him a single flagon of water, and he was forced to ration it for as long as he could manage.
Black Eyes knew he had been stowed on a ship, as there was no other way to reach the Deadlands. It rocked much more noticeably than the Firestorm. It was strange having never seen a Bargemen ship, despite being aboard one. He had heard stories of their strange qualities: constructed of more metal than wood, black sails, and automated oars, but he had no way to confirm the rumors from inside the crate.
Being shrouded in perpetual darkness gave Black Eyes plenty of time to reflect. I promised my father I’d help Asher with the war, and that slimy cocksucker banished me to the fucking Deadlands! Black Eyes wanted to scream, but he was too weak. Instead, he chose to imagine scenarios in which things had gone differently. If he had refused the Emperor’s initial offer to take him in, he never would have met Asher, that cocky fucker would never have grown to hate him, and he would not be surviving off stale food and piss inside a Deadland-destined crate. If I’d killed Asher years ago, maybe I wouldn’t be here. But, if I’d killed my “brother” then our father would have put me in this same crate, he thought. Perhaps it was inevitable that he would end up in the Deadlands: he had been an outcast
his entire life, and now he was destined to live with the rest of the outcasts.
No one seemed to know much about the Deadlands or how its inhabitants made do. It was a snaky continent covered entirely by frigid and lifeless deserts spanning countless square miles. The major destination was known only as Hivemind, but no one seemed to know anything about it, except that no one who set foot in Hivemind ever came back home.
The thought of never returning home filled Black Eyes with dread. Becky will think I broke my promise. She was his only true friend after he was taken in by the Emperor, and the thought of her feeling betrayed by him was not one he could stomach. I can’t just die and never go back, I don’t care if it’s impossible. I must try… He wanted nothing more than to uphold his promise, but he doubted his ability to do so. Still, he could not just give up so easily.
Being locked in darkness for so long had torn away any sense of time he had. It could have been five months or five years that had passed for all he knew. He grew numb to pain, discomfort, hunger, and life itself the longer he stayed in the dark. This break from his senses was brought to an abrupt end when the top of his crate came off and he was blinded by the resurgence of light.
“Wake up, freak!” a strange voice shouted tauntingly.
The crate was thrown to the ground, and Black Eyes grunted as he came tumbling onto the floor. The light still overwhelmed his eyes, but he detected the stench of salt water and fish. His body turned limp as he lay on his back, groaning from the sensory overload.
“Holy shit, I don’t think I’ve ever had an Exile smell so bad!” a different voice boasted, cackling.
“Suddenly you smell like a bunch o’ flowers, Rick!” the first voice mocked.
Both voices began laughing boisterously. Black Eyes could make out the silhouettes of two men as he adjusted to the light.
“Uh-oh! I think Mister Shit Stain here is finally starting to see!”
“I like that name better than Black Eyes, that’s for sure!”
Black Eyes began to sit up, but someone’s foot met his face, thrusting him back to the floor. As he grunted in pain, the two men cackled.
“We didn’t tell you to move just yet, freak!”
“You only do things if we tell you to do them, Black Eyes!”
The men cackled again. Black Eyes lay on the floor, his body stiff. He continued to breathe raspy and rapid breaths.
“This is Black Eyes? The one that terrifies all the Dawnlands?”
“I’ve been more terrified of the shits I’ve taken!”
Both men continued to cackle. Black Eyes regained control over his breath and felt some of the numbness in his body fade.
“W—where, where am—”
“Where are you?” a voice said in a baby-like voice. One of the silhouettes knelt closer. “You’re on a ship, and you’re headed to your new home!” The man had a grotesque scar across much of his face, tough skin, and a bald head.
“W—water, p—pl—please.” Black Eyes’ voice was incredibly raspy.
The bald man lightly chuckled. “Water? Yeah… You can have some water…” The man stood up, grabbed a flagon from his belt, and poured the water near Black Eyes’ feet.
Black Eyes turned over and began crawling towards the water, and just as his mouth was going to touch it, the bald man kicked him in the head and stopped pouring.
Both men howled with laughter. Black Eyes grunted and clasped his head, then placed his mouth on the spill and began licking. The water was gray from the dust and Black Eyes gagged, but he continued to lick up as much as he could. When he caught a break, he coughed violently and almost threw up.
“What the fuck’s goin’ on down here!?” a much louder and deeper voice bellowed from down the hall.
The bald man flinched at the voice and stood at attention. “W—we were releasing the p—prisoner, like you ordered!”
“Did I order you to pour water on my floor?”
“N—no…”
Being face-down, Black Eyes could not see the approaching authority figure, but the footsteps thumped powerfully, getting closer and closer.
“Your orders were to release the prisoner and bring him to me immediately.”
The bald man exhaled shakily, wrought with fear, all while stammering. “I—I’m s—so—sorry—”
The sound of steel ripping a throat open pierced the air, followed by shocked and panicked cries. The bald man’s body fell to the floor, his face directly in front of Black Eyes; his lifeless eyes seemed to simultaneously stare straight at him and the abyss.
“Rick!”
“GET THE PRISONER UP ON DECK RIGHT NOW!”
“A—at once!”
The surviving man scurried to Black Eyes and grabbed him by the shoulders, dragging him through the hallway.
Black Eyes was too weak to resist. His vision blurred, and he could barely make sense of his surroundings, but he could see several lanterns filling the room with light. The room appeared to be used for storage, but before he could pick up on any more detail, he was dragged up the stairs. His shins clashed with each step, but he was still too numb to feel any pain. Black Eyes began to drift in and out of consciousness until his surroundings were completely black.
“Wake up!”
Black Eyes came to, sitting in a rough metal chair when a man kept snapping fingers in front of his face. He began to fully regain his vision, revealing a man dressed all in black, larger and denser than anyone he had ever seen, with a great black beard and cold blue eyes.
“Hey, are ya still woozy? Are ya somewhat aware of your surroundings?” Black-Beard asked.
Black Eyes squinted at the man. “Somewhat.”
“He speaks!” a voice echoed jokingly from behind.
Black-Beard turned around and glared at the man without saying a word. The man lowered his chin meekly and gulped, then Black-Beard returned to Black Eyes.
“Listen to me, freak, and listen cl—”
“Don’t call me freak,” Black Eyes calmly seethed, his voice still raspy.
Without hesitation, Black-Beard swung his arm, striking Black Eyes across the face with an open palm. Black Eyes’ head lashed to the side, and his ears were filled with a high-pitched ring immediately thereafter.
Black-Beard grabbed Black Eyes’ head and jerked him back to an upright position. “Listen to me, freak, and listen closely. You’ve been locked in that crate for weeks now. We’re thirty minutes out from the dock at Hivemind. Do you understand?”
“W—weeks, eh?” Black Eyes chuckled morbidly, then coughed.
Black-Beard stood up and turned to his men. “Get him something to drink that ain’t his own piss!”
“Aye, Captain!”
The men behind Black-Beard scattered, giving Black Eyes a clearer view of his surroundings. The room appeared to be a navigational deck, but the floor and walls were made of metal, unlike all the wooden ships he had seen throughout his life.
“You Hivemind’s errand boy?” Black Eyes joked, then coughed up blood.
Black Eyes expected to be hit again but was unsettled when Black-Beard simply laughed malevolently.
“You don’t know anything about Hivemind, do ya?” Black-Beard waited for a response, but when Black Eyes glared silently, he nonchalantly continued. “I guarantee that none of the horror stories you may’ve heard growing up in Asher Miller’s shadow will ever do Hivemind any justice.”
“Care to enlighten me then?”
“You’ll be brought before the Archon for judgment. And if you’re lucky, you’ll only be whipped and sent to work in the mines. You better beg your Stars to see that you ain’t unlucky.” Black-Beard let out another sinister chuckle.
Black Eyes maintained a stoic face, but he was deeply unsettled. If I’m lucky, I’ll be a slave?
“I got ‘im his water, Captain!” a skinny man said enthusiastically.
“Well then give it to him, ya dumb cunt!” Black-Beard upbraided.
The skinny man meekly shambled up t
o Black Eyes and held out a flagon of water for him. Black Eyes rolled his eyes and took the flagon. He tore the top off with his teeth then began chugging. He closed his eyes and felt ecstasy.
“Not too fast,” Black-Beard said, taking the flagon. “You’ll drown if you drink it that quickly.”
Black Eyes exhaled rapidly. “Why the hell do you care? Huh?”
“Because I’m being paid a shit load of gold to bring you to the Archon, alive.”
“Archon?”
Black-Beard responded with only a chuckle. He then turned around and confidently marched away, shoving anyone that failed to move from his path.
Black Eyes’ mind began racing. He had never heard of anyone called the Archon, and yet this person wanted him alive? It was true that he was notorious in all the Dawnlands, so perhaps the Archon wanted to claim him for that reason.
For the rest of the voyage, Black Eyes was kept on the same chair and gawked at by dozens of crewmen, most of whom were dressed in black robes, and others in black Bargemen armor. Many of them muttered to each other as they scampered past. “That’s him?” one crewman asked. “He ain’t that scary,” another mocked.
The ship unmistakably began to decelerate as the feeling of gravity shifted. Shortly thereafter, Black-Beard came stomping back into the room, shoving aside those in his way.
“We’re docking! Stand your ass up now, freak!” Black-Beard bellowed, slamming his march to a halt just before Black Eyes.
Black Eyes glanced up at Black-Beard, sighed, then slowly brought himself to his feet. His pain and weakness were apparent as he immediately felt light-headed and fell to the floor, landing directly on his face. His painful grunt was met with the mocking laughter of the surrounding crewmen.
“Stop laughing and get him to his feet!”
The laughter ceased immediately as a couple of the men affirmed Black-Beard’s order while scurrying to Black Eyes’ limp body. They hoisted him to his feet, then Black-Beard leaned in, scanning him intently.
The Darkness of Dawn Page 38
