Sonder (Rise of the Omni Book 1)

by S. L. Horne

  This land is still new to him, having traveled here himself only a year prior. He does well at keeping himself out of trouble from the local lord’s guards and makes an honest living by fishing. The Lord rules only a small portion of the kingdom under the king, but both are nasty men with greedy pockets.

  Denton sees two uniformed men patrolling the piers, their outfits burgundy with gold trim. The large sigil of house Rao embroidered in the center of large thick sashes that sit on one shoulder and across their body. As he gets out of the boat to wrap the lines to the dock, he keeps his head low and tries not to draw the guards’ attention. Burgundy uniforms mean they are the lesser of the two evils, the Lord’s guards, as opposed to the solid golden uniforms of the king.

  He reaches out to assist Elara from the boat, placing his finger over his lips and giving her a “shh” sound. She appears to understand and climbs out quietly.

  Denton wraps the blanket tighter around her shoulders, hiding the strange clothes she wears from the guards. He has an additional thought, then, and takes the hat off his own head and places it on hers.

  As the pair proceed as discreetly as possible toward the hill, one of the guards looks over but appears to pay them little mind. Denton and Elara continue on, and a moment later, her brightly colored shoes slip out from under the blanket, kicking the coverage high enough to see her feet. Only for a split second are her feet visible, but that single moment was long enough.

  “Hey!” one of the guards yells, pointing in their direction. Although Elara does not appear to understand the word, she does seem to know that his exclamation could only mean something bad for them. The two take off into a run, the blanket falling away.

  “Foreigner! Foreigner!” Sounding the alarm, the shouting guard takes off after the pair with his partner close behind.

  Rounding a corner, cobblestone looms ahead. Denton and Elara’s pounding feet echo along the path. Denton is faster than Elara and has to slow often for her to keep up. He looks back and waves his hands, gesturing for her to hurry.

  Soon they round another corner where five more men in burgundy uniforms cut them off. Denton looks around and finds a low hanging clothing line to duck underneath.

  Out of breath and his vision spinning from exertion, Denton loses sight of Elara. The uniformed men spot her and charge forward. He cuts a corner to intersect with where the guards are running and sees a flash of her shoes from underneath a full clothing line. Denton’s hand connects with hers from behind the hanging linens, but he is not fast enough to save her.

  The guards come down on Elara with speed and brutality. They grab her arms and raise them high above her head causing her to squeal with pain. It is all Denton can do not to jump out and fend off the men. Knowing it would only result in him getting arrested too, he bides his time and thinks on what to do next.

  He follows the guards as they hail Elara away, hiding behind buildings or trying to blend in with a thick crowd as they pass through the market. The Rao’s guards are heading in the direction of the family castle and Denton reals back in horror with the thought that the guards must be taking her to the Sire himself! Denton knows that the man has not claimed his true title of lord yet, but knows well enough that he’s looking for a bride so he may.

  Many of the youthful women fled when the young Rao made his claim to his late father’s title, knowing the tradition of his family. The late lord’s eldest son is a nasty man and is becoming more desperate to claim a bride as time goes on.

  Denton hides in the tall grasses by the path as he watches the guards load Elara into a carriage.

  The paths leading to the castle are winding and slow, allowing Denton to walk straight across the fields and cut them off at the stables. He rushes to the door and lets himself in, crouching down in the hay for cover.

  “Hello?” a young boy calls out to him, the boy’s voice small and unsure. Stepping into the light from behind a horse, the little stable boy’s twitchy eyes question Denton. “W–who are you?” he stutters.

  “Hush. I am no one, I just need to rest here for a moment.” The boy wears tattered clothes, tugging at them as he sets down the saddle he was about to strap onto a horse, and shuffles over to Denton.

  “Are you hiding from… him?” The boy emphasizes the last word as if he bit into something particularly nasty. “Because it’s all right if you are. I won’t tell,” the boy adds leaning in, apparently excited to be keeping a secret from the sire.

  At that moment, the doors to the stable fly open, and the little boy rushes back to the horse. He tosses the saddle on top and hastens to fasten it properly.

  “Quickly now, I haven’t all day!” the sire barks at the stable boy. “What do I pay you for if you can’t do this simple task?” The child falls roughly to the boarded floor from the blow of his master’s hand. “Get up, you weak child. Have the horse and carriage ready by the time I get back or your job will be given to someone capable!” The sire spits on the boy, turns and exits the stable.

  The small boy’s face is streaked with tears as he tries to continue his work. Denton steps out from behind the bales of straw and offers the boy some help. “What is your name? My name is Denton.” Gladly, the boy accepts his offer and makes polite conversation with him.

  “Biren!” he exclaims, enthusiasm laden on his face.

  Taking this opportunity, Denton asks the boy, “Biren, do you know where the Lord keeps prisoners?”

  “He’s not a lord yet!” Biren proclaims. Snot drips down from his nose, and he rubs it away with his sleeve.

  “Right, right. Well…” Denton corrects himself, “do you know where the sire keeps his prisoners?”

  “Oh yes. He has my Ma and Pa there!” The boy plops down on the ground. “I have to work to pay off their debt. Every day though, the sire tells me I owe more and more.”

  Lost to his own thoughts, Denton attempts to redirect the boy to the question.

  “Where is he keeping them?” Denton asks as he finishes strapping up the horse for the boy. The child points wordlessly at the far tower of the castle. Gallows loom mournfully in the turret's shadow.

  He bends down to eye level with the boy. “I will see what I can do about your parents, all right? You focus on not making the sire mad. He ruffles the boy’s dirty hair and rushes out through the door.

  The clopping of horse hooves and the constant sound of wheels turning on hard-packed dirt sounds from the path. With more items to hide behind, Denton stays close by and listens for any conversation from the guards.

  “It’s my reward!” Denton hears from someone inside the carriage.

  Another voice counters, “I spotted her!” The cabin shakes, and Denton hears the men struggling with each other, heated by their discussion. A carriage door flings open from their effort and Denton sees Elara sitting on a bench inside. Her hands, now bound neatly behind her back, she chews on a cloth tied around her jaw and shoved into her mouth. Her eyes open wide as she spots Denton trailing the carriage.

  The guards stop their fighting when they notice the door is now wide open and grumpily resume their seats next to their prisoner. Mumbling under their breath, they regain their composure.

  A barn-sized door adorns the tower. The driver announces their arrival and the door of the tower swings open to greet them. Cursing his lost chance, Denton has to fall back in fear of being seen.

  He circles the tower searching for windows or an additional entrance. Coughing sounds make their way from a small barred window, and he lays flat on the ground so he can see inside.

  “Hello?” Whispering as loud as he can, Denton hopes to get the attention of the occupants but not the guards.

  “Who is there?” a deep, gruff voice beckons.

  “I am a friend of the stable boy. Do you know if there is another entrance, keys, anything?” His lips are pressed to the bars, and he cups his ears to hear better.

  “The stable boy? Biren? That is our son! Jules, he knows our son!” The man’s voice loses its cold
tone, and although it is dark, Denton can make out two figures huddled together.

  “I’m glad to have found you.” He smiles down at them and quietly exchanges conversation. With the couple’s information, Denton comes up with a plan.

  “I’ll return, I promise.” He steps away from the window and hurries back to the stables. He hears the music starting for the evening's dinner as he crosses the grass and sees the sun slowly setting in the sky.

  The barn door opens, and the stable boy looks up from a bale of hay he is sitting on where his small hands are weaving bits of straw together in an intricate design. Startled, Biren jumps up, his half-made bowl falling to the ground before him, looking as though he expects the intruder to be the future lord.

  “It’s all right, it’s just me,” Denton exclaims. Holding his hand to his mouth, he gestures to the boy to be quiet. “We have little time, but I need your help.”

  “My help? I—” Biren gulps nervously. “I can’t. I have to prepare the sire’s horse soon. He likes to ride before dinner every night. He’ll get upset if his horse isn’t ready!” Denton places a calming hand on the boy’s shoulder and kneels down to be eye level with the child.

  “After tonight you won’t have to worry about that anymore.” With eyes wide and full of excitement, the boy brushes off his clothing and follows Denton out of the stables. Careful not to be seen, they make their way in the long shadows cast by the falling sun and around to the back of the turret. An old cart sloshed with foul-smelling muck and tar to seal the edges sits abandoned behind a short crumbling wall. A man looking to be equally old sits in a chair sleeping the day's heat away. The old man’s head is tilted to rest on his chest, and his feet are kicked up on a nearby stump. Wishing there to be any other way, but knowing he doesn’t have time to find one, Denton tells the boy to stay where he is.

  Denton finishes his task and returns to Biren’s side. Dressed in the old man’s clothing, he is now pushing a creaking cart along. He lifts the lid and a foul smell wafts out sending both of them reeling back in disgust.

  “Get in,” Denton instructs. The boy looks up, his expression one of a mix between astonishment and disbelief.

  “No way!” Biren cries.

  “It’s the only way, you have to trust me.” Denton does not wait for a response before he sweeps the boy up in his arms and stuffs him into the cart, then closes the lid.

  He pushes the cart around to the front entrance of the dungeon.

  Two guards flanking the door see him coming, and they step forward to challenge him.

  “Whoa, there. What happened to the old coot?” one of the guards asks. He turns to his fellow mate and they chuckle at the insult.

  “Dead. What do you expect? The man was old.” Denton keeps a cold face, trying to show no sign he does not belong. His heart races in his chest, and he struggles not to wretch at the smell of the cart.

  “Can’t argue with that,” the other guard says. “Surprised he lasted as long as he did. You look blue, lass. First day?” The second guard steps back from the cart.

  “Yeah, you can say that.” Denton stands before the guards, regretting his choice of props. “You mind? I would like to get this done, it’s not the most fun job.” The guards jest about his task but allow him to pass.

  Hurriedly, Denton pushes the cart deeper and deeper into the dungeon. Prisoners call out about the odor as he passes, and finally, he makes it to the farthest corner, as far from the guards as possible. Opening the lid, the boy’s head pops up for air. Coughing and wheezing, he wretches all over the stones and climbs out of the cart.

  Before he can protest to Denton about the awful conditions, Denton covers Biren’s mouth with stern orders to hush.

  “I’m sorry, but that was the only way to get you in.” The boy looks up at him with a scowl and slams the lid to the cart.

  Chapter 14

  Elara bounces around in the buggy's seat as the carriage goes over bumps and holes. The guards that flank her seem to be arguing about something, but not knowing the language, she can only guess what it is about. Inside the buggy is hot and stuffy, and body odor sits heavy on the air. Overwhelmed and feeling hopeless, she waits for what will happen next.

  The horses stop and one of the guards gets up to open the door. Snatched by her wrists, the other pushes her to the opening. Sun blinds her from having been in the dark for so long, and she trips as she’s pulled from the carriage. Not bothering to catch her, the guard backs up and laughs at her misstep. Unable to catch herself with her hands bound behind her back, she lands on her face in the dirt. Pain sears her skin from brow to jaw, then rips down her neck and back.

  Tired of waiting for her to get up, the guards haul her to her feet and with rough hands, drag her into the dungeon. While passing other cells, prisoners yell or throw their cups at the bars. Elara doesn’t have to understand the language to know several men make lewd comments, she can tell by their sneers.

  Taken deeper and deeper into the dungeon, the dampness and cold make her skin prickle.

  The squeaking sound of a metal bar door opening resonates in her ears, and she’s shoved into a cell, falling again onto the wet stones. Her head bounces off the wall and everything around her goes black.

  When she awakens, her head is pounding, and her shoulders ache from the position of her arms, her hands still bound behind her back. From behind, someone tugs at her bindings and Elara tries to pull away.

  Chapter 15

  “Shh. It’s me. It’s me, Denton.” Elara turns her body instantly, she twists around to look at him. Biren sits in the dark corner of the cell, huddled next to his parents who hold him possessively. As she takes in what is happening around her, she rubs her wrists, unbound now, from the rough ropes. Her wrists are red, and Denton wipes away blood from her face and head.

  He pulls her to her feet and motions for her to follow, but stay as quiet as she can. She watches as Denton steps into the shadows between the cells and recovers an old cart. Holding his hand up, he points at the people she glanced at in the corner when she had first woken, and the young boy steps up to take her hand.

  Denton moves ahead of them; the child holding Elara back a few moments before following behind him. When they get closer to the outside door, Denton opens another cell and reaches in for a bucket filled with the prisoners’ waste. He dumps the mess into the cart and locks the cell behind him again.

  A guard peaks in through the door and sees only Denton as she and the boy are hidden from view behind the cart. “Almost done in there?” the guard yells.

  “Just about.” Reaching the last cell, Denton opens the door and grabs the final bucket. As he walks toward the cart again, he pretends to twist his ankle, making no attempt to catch himself. He falls into the main door, pushing it open. The bucket flies from his hand and through the air, slopping mess onto the door and the guards still flanking it. The men howl in protest before rushing toward Denton with murder in their eyes.

  As Denton backs away into the nearest cell, they advance toward him. Backed into the corner, Denton can see the boy leading his parents and Elara quietly out of the dungeon entrance just as planned.

  The men strike and kick Denton until he can feel his ribs buckle under their boots and his vision blur. Appearing to be satisfied that the new guy has learned his lesson, the guards return to their posts to finish their watch.

  Denton pulls himself to his feet, wincing at the pain. He wheels the cart out to the entrance. Feigning embarrassment and defeat, he keeps his head down as he hobbles toward the rear of the turret where he would empty the contents of his labors. But as he rounds the tower, he leaves the cart and rushes off into the fields, toward the aimed for the stables.

  Music from the castle plays in the distance as he comes close to his goal. He sees that the door has been left open wide, and the future lord’s voice, angry and loud, carries to his ears. Denton creeps closer but hides in the tall grass so as not to be seen.

  A thud sounds and the sire advance
s from the barn, his curses and scorn accompanying him every step of the way. “Your parents will hang tomorrow!” A long cloak trails behind the sire as he stalks toward the castle, head held high, and a smirk stretched across his face.

  Denton sneaks inside, hoping the future lord does not look back. He finds Biren stretched out on the floor, the skin around his eye already turning blue. From behind the bales of hay, three heads peer out just as Denton leans over the boy.

  “Are you hurt? Did he discover them?” He kneels down and questions the boy, cradling his head in his hand.