Where Serpents Strike (Children of the Falls Vol. 1)

by CW Thomas

  The room had gone silent. Brynlee didn’t even dare to breathe as she stood in the crowd of guests watching the scene unfold.

  She saw Tavia on the floor nursing the left side of her teary-eyed face while trying to cover whatever dignity she could with the thin sheet.

  “You lied to me for three years,” said Rose as she stepped toward Placidous. “You took money from me, money you said would go to keeping your religious leaders out of my business.”

  Placidous had begun to cry. “Mistress, please. I—”

  “YOU LIED TO ME!” Rose screamed. She threw her goblet of wine at him, which bounced off his shoulder and spilled down his chest.

  Placidous fell apart. “I–I’m s–s–o sorry, mistress. P–please forgive me. I will pay you back. I will pay you back, I swear it!”

  “Pay me back with your life, dog.”

  Rose snapped her fingers and Dunmore, along with a bodyguard who had been hired for the night, grabbed Placidous by the arms.

  “Take him to the window and hang him from the eaves,” she said. “By his feet,” she added. “Then set him on fire.”

  The people in the room made noises of agreement, some even clapped.

  “What?” Placidous screamed. “Mistress, I beg you!”

  Rose lifted her hand and silence descended upon the room again. “But first,” she said contemplatively, “take his prick.” She slipped a shiny narrow dagger out from her sleeve and handed it to Sir Dunmore.

  The fervor of the crowd erupted and drowned out the panicked screams of the former priest. He kicked and fought against the strong arms that held him to no avail.

  Through the bustle of shifting bodies, Brynlee saw Tavia scurry to her feet and take off down the hallway. She pushed after her through the crowd.

  She followed her outside around the back of the house and up the stairs that led onto the roof. The air was chilly, heralding the autumn that was soon to come.

  “Stop following me,” Tavia said as she wrapped the white sheet around herself. She went and stood by the waist high parapet and looked out over the nighttime city of Perth, the warm breeze toiling with a few strands of her blonde curls.

  “Are you all right?” Brynlee asked.

  Tavia looked at her. The usual bounce of life in her crisp blue eyes was dead. “Just give me a moment.”

  Tavia jumped when the piercing scream of Placidous tore through the night. She covered her face and cried, shivering from head to toe. “It’s not true what they say about him. He wasn’t a rapist. He never hurt me. We’ve been together many times and he’s never been anything but kind.”

  “Did he really steal from Mistress Rose?”

  Tavia didn’t answer at first, just cried and shook her head. “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.” She shot Brynlee a vicious scowl. “What do you care anyway? Little Miss Perfect.”

  Brynlee never knew what to say to Tavia’s insults, but as her eyes once again fell on the red whip marks on the back of the girl’s hands, she got an idea. She unbuttoned the top two buttons on the back of her dress until she could slip her right shoulder out from the collar, revealing a faint pink scar along her shoulder blade. She turned so Tavia could see it.

  “I didn’t get out of his way in time,” she said. “He was drunk and had a stick in his hand, so he whacked me with it. Left a scar.” She pulled the sleeve of her dress back up and started refastening the buttons. “See? I’m not so perfect.”

  The corners of Tavia’s mouth twitched as if to smile. “Who was he?”

  Brynlee shrugged. “Just a customer of Mungo’s.”

  Tavia leaned over the wall and looked down. “Sometimes I wander how long it would take me to fall from up here,” she mused.

  A nervous flutter blossomed in Brynlee’s stomach. “Why would you wonder something like that?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe cause I’d like to think that I can fly. Maybe if I jumped off and opened my arms the gods would let me soar away from this awful place.”

  Brynlee watched the young woman lean out over the edge, further, further, and further. Tavia had a strange distant look in her eyes, almost like she wasn’t there, and it pimpled Brynlee’s skin.

  Taking Tavia’s arm, she asked, “Are you all right?”

  She blinked and leaned back. “Yes. I’m just…” She paused. “I’m just tired.”

  Brynlee felt her shivering under her hands. “Let’s get you out of this chill. You’re not dressed to be out here.”

  The two girls slipped back inside unnoticed. Brynlee did her best to keep Tavia from seeing the nude mutilated body of Placidous hanging in the window. She urged her back to her room where they shut the door, pulled the drapes, lit as many candles as they could find, and then burrowed under the pillows and silk blankets of the large bed. They tented the sheets over their faces, hiding from the muffled noises of chattering guests, bawdy laughter, and the rhythmic thumping of aggressive sex two bedrooms away.

  “I misjudged you, Emma,” Tavia said, taking Brynlee’s hand. “You’re not so bad.”

  “Thanks. You’re not so bad either.”

  Tavia rolled her eyes. “Oh, yes I am.”

  The two girls shared a giggle that seemed to deflate any lingering uneasiness between them.

  “What did you mean earlier tonight when you talked about falling from the roof?” Brynlee asked. “Why would you think about something like that?”

  Tavia was quiet for a long moment. “Don’t you ever think about running away from here?”

  “No.”

  “I do. I think about running back home,” she whispered. “My parents are dead, but, oh, to be among the cattails and dragonflies again, hunt for turtles in the pond. You don’t think about running away ever?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  Brynlee thought for a moment. “When they brought me to Mungo’s it never occurred to me to run away. Then one night this other girl, Murron, she decided she wasn’t going to be a whore. She tried to go out the window. When Mungo caught her, he beat her so bad she limped for many days after that. Since then, any time I think about running away, I think about Murron.”

  “How old were you?”

  “I was seven.”

  Tavia’s spirit seemed to deflate.

  “Besides,” Brynlee continued, “where would we go?”

  “I hear that on Efferous Edhen is known as do locus dubi veevay.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “The place where evil abides.” Tavia shifted to bring her head closer to Brynlee’s. “In fact, Placidous, he told me lots of things about Efferous.”

  “What kinds of things?”

  “Amazing things!” She lowered her voice even more. “He said Halus Gis is a place of hope. Said it once helped refugees from Aberdour. We could find safety there, and peace. Maybe even live there. We should get out of here. Work our way to Efferous. Start a new life!”

  Brynlee shook her head. “If you’re caught, Mistress Rose will beat you, maybe even sell you off. You can’t—”

  “She can kill me for all I care. I can’t stay in this place any more. Will you come with me?”

  The directness of her question caught Brynlee off guard. “Uh, I don’t… I don’t know. I mean, no. I can’t.”

  “Of course you can.”

  Brynlee didn’t know what to say. The conversation alone made her nervous.

  “Will you at least think about it?” Tavia asked.

  When Brynlee didn’t answer, Tavia rolled over in a frustrated huff.

  Neither of them spoke the rest of the night. Brynlee lay awake wondering if she had become too complacent, too willing to accept her fate. Maybe it was time to start dreaming about something beyond the walls of Rose’s brothel.

  Then again, she found herself wondering if her life was truly so horrible? Her days in Aberdour were a memory now. She had adapted to life in the capital city quite comfortably. She had food, clothes, a warm bed, and she found it quite enjo
yable to feel beautiful and appreciated by so many. Rose was a strict mistress, but she took care of her girls, far better than Mungo ever did, and Brynlee was learning business savvy from her every day.

  She drifted off into a dreamless sleep, and didn’t wake again until after dawn. She was alone in the bed, and Tavia was nowhere to be seen.

  Brynlee trotted downstairs in a linen chemise. The scent of fresh bacon spitting in the kitchen made her stomach rumble and her taste buds salivate.

  When she rounded the corner and saw Korah her heart burst.

  “Oh!” Korah exclaimed as Brynlee threw herself into her. “I’m glad someone is happy to see me return.”

  Rose sat at the wooden table sipping a mug of warm herbs, a red robe draped over her frame. She looked frazzled with a head of disheveled hair, but Brynlee guessed that she had been up late entertaining a charge or two.

  “You’re late,” Rose remarked. “Sir Dunmore was here last night. Where were you?”

  “Didn’t my lord tell you? We encountered Marshall Linfeld at the Margretian Wall. He wished to bed me for the night, and so I stayed.” She handed Rose a small ivory pouch of coins.

  Rose pursued her lips. “Linfeld must stop taking advantage of my girls. I wished you had been here last night.”

  “You missed quite a show,” Brynlee said.

  “Oh?”

  “Never mind that for now,” Rose said.

  “Are you hungry?” said a fat kitchen maid waving a spatula dripping with yolk. “I’ll have some eggs and honeyed mead done right for you in a just a moment, young miss.”

  “Sounds wonderful.”

  “Tell me about your trip,” Brynlee said. “Was the castle at Tay as large as I’ve heard? Is it really white? Did you figure out why?”

  “Oh, hush child,” Rose said. “Your questions are giving me a headache.”

  “Mistress Rose!” cried one of the girls as she came running down the hall. “Mistress Rose!” It was Abby, one of the brothel’s more popular courtesans. She was dressed in nothing but a red robe.

  “What is it, dear?”

  “It’s Tavia, mistress. She’s run away.”

  Rose’s eyes crinkled in anger. “What?”

  “Her bed is empty. Her things are gone. And I can’t find her anywhere.”

  “Go fetch the…” but Rose stopped when she noticed Abby wasn’t dressed. She looked at Brynlee’s chemise and sighed in frustration. “Is anyone in this house fully dressed?”

  A young woman hurried in from an adjoining room wearing a simple serving gown. “I am, mistress.”

  “Fetch the magistrate at once! Tavia can’t be far. Go now, child! Go!”

  The young woman ran from the house, the straps of her apron trailing behind her.

  Rose rubbed her face and started pacing and muttering. “Little wench. Going to cost me more to hunt her down and bring her back than she’s earned me all year.” She stopped when she noticed Brynlee and Korah and a couple other girls staring at her. “Don’t any of you have work to do?”

  While the others peeled off to various corners of the house, Brynlee helped Korah to her room with her travel bags. As soon as the young woman closed the door, she unleashed a flurry of hushed questions at Brynlee. “What in all the kingdoms happened while I was away? Why did Tavia leave? Is the mistress all right? She looks sad.”

  Brynlee found it difficult to spit out last night’s tale of horror just off the cuff, but she did her best. She finished by describing Tavia’s desire to run away.

  “She even asked me to go with her,” Brynlee said. “Oh, Korah, I should’ve known she would do this. I should’ve stopped her. You don’t think this is my fault, do you?”

  Korah put her hands on Brynlee’s shoulders. “Shh. Listen to me. Tavia’s choices were all her own. You must promise me, no matter how bad things get, you must never run away. Don’t even attempt it. Do you understand?”

  Brynlee wasn’t sure if Korah’s words made her feel better or worse. “Why not?”

  “Because there is no place better than any other,” she said. “We are all made for a purpose, and we must endure whatever purpose we’ve been given.” She stood and wandered to her wardrobe to remove her dress. “We can’t change our destinies, Emma. We have to live the lives we have.”

  “‘Few will ever be great enough to bend history, but if each of us works to change a small portion of events, then we, in the total of all those small acts, will write a greater history then has ever been written.’”

  Korah narrowed her eyes in confusion. “What does that mean?”

  “It means just because we can’t change the world doesn’t mean we can’t change anything.”

  “And who said that? Someone famous, I’m guessing.”

  Brynlee grinned. “My grandfather.”

  Korah smiled. “Just promise me you’ll never do anything foolish. It’s a dangerous world out there, my love.”

  Korah’s words were poignantly illustrated later that afternoon when Tavia returned. The magistrate found her nude body lying in a ditch, unconscious and covered in mud, bruises, semen, and blood. Her face was unrecognizable, and her left arm was broken.

  Rose asked the magistrate to send the doctor who arrived later that afternoon. Life in the brothel came to a near standstill. The girls gathered outside of Tavia’s room, heads peering in through the doorway as the doctor set her broken arm in a splint and sling, stitched up her wounds, and gave her some medicine for the pain.

  Tavia didn’t know how many men had raped her, but she knew she had spent the night in the cold and mud of the gutter.

  Suppertime came and went in almost total silence. Mistress Rose ate alone in her bedchambers, which she had never done before.

  While Brynlee was preparing some tea for Rose, one of the girls asked, “What’s wrong with the mistress?”

  “She’s mad at Tavia,” said Abby as she sat down at the kitchen table. “She’s never liked her. The girl is such a clumsy oaf.”

  They all started speculating in between mouthfuls of vegetable soup and bread. “Rose has invested a lot in her and what has she gotten in return?”

  “Nothing.”

  “And she probably won’t get nothing from her at all. Probably sell her off now that she’s all damaged like she is.”

  “Don’t talk like that!”

  “You just wait, honey. I’m right.”

  Brynlee ignored them and stole down the hallway toward Rose’s lavish bedroom. Dark red drapes covered the windows and walls. A massive four-post bed piled with lush pillows and decorated with whips and shackles occupied the north wall. The room was heavily perfumed and featured several large paintings of nude women in wanton poses.

  The mistress was sitting at a large dark wood desk, gazing out at the evening streets and the commoners walking by.

  “Mistress, I’ve brought you some hot tea.”

  Rose said nothing. Brynlee took the tray and set it on the desk. She poured a small cup and placed it on a white saucer next to Rose.

  “See if Tavia needs anything, will you Emma?” Rose said. “I want you to stay with her during the night. Can you do that, please?”

  “Of course, mistress.”

  “You’re a good girl, Emma. You have a rare kindness in you.”

  Brynlee had never heard such soft-spoken compliments from Rose. She almost didn’t know how to respond. “Thank you, mistress.”

  She retreated from the bedroom and went up stairs to check on Tavia.

  The halls of the brothel were growing dimmer as the daylight faded, making the dark red and brown wood walls feel ominous and empty.

  She knocked on the doorjamb to Tavia’s room and then opened the door. The silk sheets of the scented bed had been thrown aside, the bank of pillows spilling onto the floor.

  “Tavia?”

  Brynlee looked behind the folding screen over which was draped an extravagant blue dress, one of Tavia’s favorites. She looked inside the wardrobe and then toward the
cushioned seat under the bow window, but the room was empty.

  She went downstairs, a growing sense of uneasiness rising within her.

  She hurried through the front door and ran around the back of the building. She took the stairs as fast as she could, up five flights, to the garden on the brothel roof.

  There she saw Tavia standing atop the brick and mortar parapet looking down at the street five stories below. Her toes were on the very edge.

  “Tavia!” she called.

  The girl turned, her swollen face covered in tears.

  “What are you doing?” Brynlee asked.

  Lips quivering, Tavia said, “I don’t want to do this anymore, Emma.”

  “Do what?”

  She gestured toward the mountain of bruises on her face, the one eye that was sealed shut. “Look what they did to me. I don’t… never again. Do you understand?”

  Brynlee moved toward her. “Don’t do this.”

  “I have to. I’m not strong like you. I’m sorry.”

  She backed closer to the edge.

  “You know what my older sister once told me? She said, ‘Brynlee, whenever you’re afraid, you pretend to be someone else. Someone stronger.’ And so I dig down inside every day and I find someone bigger than me, someone who can take the hits and keep living.”

  Tavia’s expression seemed confused. She looked from Brynlee to the street far below. “Brynlee?” she said.

  “That’s my name. My real name.” The admission brought a tear to her eye.

  “As in the princess of Aberdour?”

  Brynlee swallowed a lump in her throat and moved her head up and down.

  “Everyone thinks you’re dead,” Tavia said. “They think all the Falls children are dead.”

  “I know.”

  “Why would you tell me that?”

  Brynlee inched closer to the parapet, almost close enough to touch the young woman’s leg. “Because you’re my friend, and I want you to know who I am. I need you, Tavia.” She reached up for the young woman’s hand. Tears trickled down her face as her heart banged against her ribs. “If I can be strong, you can be strong, too. I can show you.”

  Tavia regarded the ledge one more time. “Brynlee Falls of Aberdour.”

  “Take my hand, Tavia. Please.” Her sobs came full force now, an embarrassing mess that covered her face.