Blackthorn

by Terry Tyler

  Star's taking prayer meetings full time now, 'cause too many are needed for Ryder to handle them all, and she gets paid for it―she's given her milking job to one of the Boltwick refugees. Lucky bint; I wouldn't mind being paid for sitting at home all day, even if it did mean listening to all those daft prayers. I'd just smile and think about something else.

  I went to one of her meetings with Laurel, just for a laugh, except it wasn't. Everyone sits round in a circle and reads their shit out, and at the end of each prayer Star says stuff like, 'Let us all give thanks to the Light, and ask him to bless Daisy and Danny with a screaming brat of their own' or 'Let us all give thanks to the Light and ask him to give Fred the strength to stop getting off his face in the Beer Hut."

  Then everyone has to hold hands and repeat what she's said.

  On second thoughts, I'd rather be making pies.

  I asked Ryder, again, about setting up a scheme so that poor people like Jay have enough to eat, but all he did was give this speech in church about being aware of your less fortunate neighbours, and bunging them the odd sandwich.

  Jay's okay. He's still stealing off the market stalls when he's doing his cleaning after it's shut, but not just for himself. He keeps the stolen gear in a cupboard in the back room of Clem's, then sells it dirt cheap to folk down the Bottom. I'm worried for him; I've been down there and seen how much he's taking. Jars of posh jam, nice cheeses, biscuits, tobacco, wine.

  "You'll get murdered if anyone catches you," I said.

  "Nah," he said, cheerful as ever. "So I do another couple of weeks in the jail block; who cares? The worst you get is the odd kicking off Fisher, but you get a book to read every week, and there's always something going on down there, so you don't get too bored. And now I've got money for Dad, and enough to buy my own food instead of you having to risk your job stealing it for me―we're good!"

  What worries me most of all is that he's so cocky about it.

  Chapter 23

  Byron Lewis V

  And this fine mid-August day started off so well.

  I spent it high up on Lookout 9, away from the hustle and bustle; the wheat harvest is underway. Across the boundary fields I watched lambs, now weaned, galloping across the grass in that cute way they do. A light breeze kept me from getting too hot up there in my guard's leather, and, best of all, I was on my own; there's been so little trouble this summer, either inside or outside the walls, that Hemsley says it's unnecessary to double up on lookouts when guards can be better employed on food production.

  Four o'clock comes round and my shift ends. Seeing Astra walking up the steps to take over doesn't feel as awkward as in previous weeks, and we enjoy a brief hug. At least, I probably enjoy it more than she does; she pulls away first.

  Enough of that.

  I saunter home, looking forward to a quick bite then a stroll down to the New Market Tavern.

  When I reach my flat, though, I have a visitor.

  Indra.

  I haven't see her in a couple of weeks, so I assumed she was okay―but now she's curled up on the floor, in the corner outside my front door, looking anything but.

  To be honest, the sight of her makes my heart sink. A couple of weeks back, Pansy gave me a box of stuff that Indra had left at the flat―nothing much, just some books, a few trinkets―and I promised I'd take it up to the House of Angels for her, but I haven't got round to it, mostly because the whole situation leaves a nasty taste in my mouth.

  "Hey," I say, but she doesn't look up, or answer. Whatever this latest drama is, I don't need it. I reach down and tilt her face up to me, which is when I see that it's red down one side. Like she's been hit, hard; the bruising is coming out already.

  Didn't take him long, then.

  She glances up at me, her eyes dry and blank, then lets her head fall back down.

  "He did this?"

  She nods.

  "You'd best come in."

  I'm neither shocked nor surprised. That sounds bad, but I don't feel any strong emotion when I look at her hunched shoulders and distressed little face. I can't believe she knew nothing about Abe Slovis's reputation; women talk. So he's hit her. Some men are pond life who think this type of behaviour is okay. Trick is not to get entangled with them in the first place.

  But it's worse than that.

  And when I find out how much worse, I do get angry.

  I give her a brandy and she curls up on my sofa, arms around her knees like she's protecting herself.

  "What sparked it off?"

  "Oh, you know."

  "No, I don't. That's why I'm asking."

  She bites her thumbnail, then frowns, studying it. "I didn't want to have sex."

  "And that's not okay, in his book?"

  "I'm his wife."

  "Couldn't he have gone to one of the other two, instead?"

  She glares at me. "Shut up."

  "Sorry. But he expects you to do it every time you see him?"

  She looks at me as though I'm stupid. "Course. He's mad for me."

  If that's the way you want to see it, love―

  "So did he force you?"

  No answer.

  "Did he?"

  She sniffs, rubbing her palm up her nose. "Yeah."

  Leopard, spots, etcetera. "Is this the first time? I mean, the first time he's made you do something you didn't want to?"

  "Yeah. Well, no. Sort of."

  "And is it the first time he's hurt you?"

  She doesn't reply.

  "Indra." I go to sit beside her, and reach out to touch her shoulder; she flinches. "You don't have to put up with this. Does the woman in charge―"

  "Daffy. Daffodil."

  "Does she know?"

  "No."

  "Didn't you tell her?"

  "Course not."

  "Well, did you scream? Shout for help?"

  She wipes her eyes. "We weren't at the house. I've been going round to his place. At first he said it was so we could have more privacy, like a normal married couple, and that made me so happy 'cause he didn't ask Mary and Tansy to go there, and I thought that one day he might ask me to move in with him, but then he said that if I was his wife I should be cooking for him, too, and tidying up, so I'd do all that, and then we'd have sex."

  What a charmer.

  "You can refuse to see him, you know. Whatever he says, it's not a proper marriage, is it? You don't owe him anything."

  She pulls away from me. "It's a different sort of marriage. It's for the Light. For the Angels of the Light. I was chosen."

  I ignore that. "You can leave. Tell Ryder you've made a mistake―"

  "I can't. Ryder blessed the union―"

  "Yes, he did, but he would be horrified if he thought it meant you getting hurt." Would he, though? I'm not so sure. And I'm all too aware that I'm probably the only person she can turn to. "Look, you can stay here for a couple of days; I'll have a word with Ryder, or maybe Lincoln or Thomas; they could get Haystack to find you somewhere to live, another share―"

  She shakes her head. "No."

  "Why not?"

  "The marriage was blessed. It'd be like turning away from the Light―"

  "Let's tell this Daffodil woman what's happened, then―I don't know, perhaps Ryder could un-bless it. You could tell him you want a different husband."

  I hear a little snuffle from behind that fall of hair. "Abe wouldn't have that. And he'd kill you if he knew I was here now."

  "Well, let's get Ryder to sort it. Slovis won't go against him."

  "I-I can't. It's too embarrassing."

  I feel sorry for any woman who's being knocked about, but all I can do is offer practical help, and it's hard when she's dismissing all my suggestions. "What's embarrassing about being hit by a man who's supposed to care for you?"

  Silence.

  "Indra. Come on. You're in shock, but there's nothing to feel ashamed about."

  "There is. 'Cause I did it."

  "Because he threatened to hurt you again if you didn't?
"

  Sniff. "Yeah."

  "So he raped you."

  "He says it's not rape if you're married."

  "Well, he's wrong."

  Silence again. Then she says, "It's not just that."

  "What is it, then?"

  "It's not just Abe."

  "What do you mean?"

  "He made me have sex with the others, too."

  Oh, crap. "The others? How many?"

  She picks at a loose thread at the hem of her top. "Just two."

  "Who?"

  "Ogg and Fisher." She begins to cry.

  And I brought her here, and told her she'd be safe.

  "He wants stringing up. They all do." I reach out and take her hand, and this time she doesn't pull away.

  "Help me, Byron."

  "I'm trying to." I shut my eyes for a moment. I badly don't want to have to deal with this. I don't have a choice, though. "What happened?"

  She clutches my hand. "It was last night―I thought it was going to be a normal night, just us, but they were there―all three of them, they were drinking and playing cards, shouting and larking about, and I had a headache, so I went into the bedroom to lie down, and then he came in and told me what was going to happen. I thought he was kidding and I made a joke back, but then he said he meant it, and I said no way on earth, and that was when he hit me. It's the first time, honest; I heard stories, Silver told me that him and Ogg, they were right lads before, but now they've accepted the Light―"

  "Perhaps they just said they had."

  I don't know if she even hears me say that. "I started crying, so he hit me again and told me to shut up. I tried to run out, but he dragged me back, and he said I wouldn't get far and when he caught me I'd wish I'd never been born. He means it―he says he'll find me, even if I leave Blackthorn."

  "I'm going to tell Ryder." I stand up. "You stay here, keep the door locked, and I'll fetch him."

  "No!" She looks horrified. "No, please, please don't! It'll make it worse!"

  I hold my hands up, helpless. "Well, why the hell did you come here, if you won't let me help you?"

  "I don't know!" She begins to sob, hysterically. "I don't know, I don't know what to do, I just had to tell someone!"

  "And Tansy? Mary? Does he make them do this, too?"

  "No―and Mary's pregnant! I was gutted, I thought I'd be the first―but he knows about me cheating on my husband and about Jasper―he said Jasper used to tell them all I was a right goer, and last night, when I was saying I wouldn't do it, he said that I wasn't fussy who I went with, and what was a couple more? But Mary―she was a virgin, and he says that's why the Light's given her a baby, but I won't get pregnant 'cause I'm a slag, and the Light doesn't want babies from slags. That's what he said; he said, this is all you're good for. And then Fisher and Ogg held me down, while Abe did it to me, then they all took turns―"

  She stops, covers her mouth with her hand and cries, silently, her whole body shaking. And I see for the first time how totally alone she is, and how all the showing off, the crazy behaviour, it's all just a desperate attempt to find something, anything, to help her deal with all she's lost.

  "You poor thing. I am so, so sorry." I go to her, wrap my arms around her, and she clings to me. I stroke her hair and kiss the top of her head, wishing I had it in me to offer her what she needs. "Please, let me tell Ryder. He'll make sure you're protected."

  "No. You can't. Abe―he'll find me, wherever I am―and I don't want Ryder to know."

  "This isn't your fault, Indra, please―"

  "No!" She wails. "I don't want him to know I had sex with all those men!"

  "You were forced―"

  "I still did it, though, didn't I? I could have run out of the house, but I didn't, I let them do it to me."

  "Because you were frightened for your life. And you still are."

  "No. Please. Just let me stay here for a bit―he won't be back for a couple of hours, he's supervising the church extension; just let me stay here."

  I give her more brandy, and after a while her emotions tire her out and she falls asleep; I cover her with my quilt, and shut the door quietly behind me.

  I take a horse from the community stables and ride as fast as I can down to Logside, but Ryder's not around. Star tells me he's giving comfort to a man on his Stinky Bottom deathbed.

  I tell her it's an emergency, and she looks at me as though I've just taken a dump in the middle of one of her prayer meetings.

  "He's blessing a believer, sending him on his path to the Clearing―and you want to interrupt that?"

  She refuses to tell me where he is, but rattles her dish at me for a contribution to the cost of the church extension. I chuck five chips into it, give her a filthy look, and leave.

  When I get back, Indra's gone. No note, nothing.

  My instinct is to charge straight up to Thorn Lodge, bang on Slovis's door and thump him, but all that's likely to get me is a bigger thump back. I sit down, pour myself a small glass of brandy, and think.

  An hour later, I ride out to the House of Angels. I pull up outside and hand the reins to the attendant, who gives my tunic a nervous look; guards were welcomed in the pre-Light era, but we're no longer worthy.

  "I'm not a customer, or a husband, or whatever you call them these days," I tell him, irritably and perhaps inadvisably. "I'm here on business."

  He makes a feeble attempt to bar my path so, rather than start a fight, I hand him a crown.

  My subconscious registers the building's splendour as I walk up the steps. Moor House was not a part of the original Blackthorn, but when Wolf's grandfather, Thorn, expanded his realm, the perimeter was widened to encompass an extra half mile out to the northeast direction, thus bringing it into the fold. A good move, ostensibly; had the house been left out in the cold, it would be a ruin by now.

  Inside, my eyes take a moment to adjust to the dim light; the sun has not gone down yet, the sky is still a pale blue, but the house is so dark; closed doors, dark wood polished floorboards.

  I hear footsteps; a girl comes down the stairs. Bella; the one who is hitched to Lieutenant Foster.

  I smile. "Hi―I'm looking for Indra."

  She gives me a brief, harsh laugh. "You'll be lucky. She ain't here. She's always at Abe's flat, these days."

  "Thank you." I turn to leave, but she calls me back.

  "If you see her, tell her that her sisters―that's Mary and Tansy―are getting pissed off with her skipping off to Thorn Lodge every minute she can. Abe is their husband too, and Mary's pregnant, but that bitch is trying to keep him for herself. And you can tell her from me that we're all pissed off, 'cause while she's lazing around at his place she's not doing her share of the chores round here. You got that?"

  Indra does have a gift for making herself unpopular.

  However peculiar this whole setup is, it could actually have been a good thing for her, if she'd been chosen by a half-decent man; the sisterhood element is said to be working very well, with other wives genuinely solicitous towards each other. But she's even managed to fuck this up.

  Then I feel guilty for thinking that.

  An hour later I walk up to Thorn Lodge; I've returned the horse because this needs to look casual, like I'm just passing.

  The gate guard is a mate from childhood, but entry still costs me. This is getting to be an expensive evening.

  Slovis answers. He knows me, but he looks at me like he's never seen me before.

  "Yeah?"

  "Hi." I force a smile, and hold up the bag that I hope will gain me entrance. "I've come to give these to Indra―her books and some odds and ends that she left at the old flat. Pansy asked me to give them to her."

  Slovis peers into the bag. "She don't need that crap no more. She don't have time to read."

  "Is she here?"

  "What’s it to you?"

  "Nothing; Pansy asked me to bring these round, so I thought I'd come say hello, that's all. See if she wants to come out for a walk, or something.
Catch up." I force another smile. If I can get her away, I'm going to drag her down to see Ryder, whether she likes it or not.

  He opens his eyes wide. "That's what y' thought, is it?"

  His default stance is one of aggression; I can imagine him trying to intimidate his own reflection in the bathroom mirror every morning, just to keep his hand in.

  "Yep. So here I am."

  "You sniffing round her, are you?"

  "No, I'm just a friend. You know it was me who brought her here, from Mulgrave?"

  "And?"

  "And I've come to see how she is."

  He steps forward, his dark bulk filling the doorway. "She's fine."

  "I'm sure she is, but―"

  There's movement behind him; Indra appears.

  "Hey, Indra," I say, straining to look over his shoulder; he's a couple of inches taller than me, and a heck of a lot wider. "Just thought I'd pay you a visit; how're you doing? Do you fancy coming out for a walk? Or a drink? Catch up, and stuff?"

  I sound like an idiot. I don't talk like this.

  "No, she don't." He turns. "Dinner ready?"

  She steps back; she looks pale and miserable. "Nearly."

  "Well, get on with it, I'm hungry."

  She shuffles off, and he turns back to me. "See? Now, you can get y'self gone."

  "Isn't it up to her who she sees?"

  "You reckon?"

  "Yeah, I do. Why don't you invite me in? You know, be sociable, crack open a few beers."

  He doesn't answer. He just steps forward, folds his big arms over his chest, and stares at me.

  I'm not backing down, though I admit to a keenness to do so; he could pound me into the ground, no problem. "That'll be a no, then, will it? Never mind, I'll call again when Indra's not busy."

  "No you won't."

  "I'm no threat to you. I'm just Indra's friend."

  He does a half-snarl, half-laugh. "Like a soft shit like you would be a threat to anyone. Now fuck off."