Nigel's anger softened a bit. “Yeah, you tried,” Nigel conceded painfully. He wanted so much to hate this girl, but he knew what she said was true. He knew it in his bones.
“I did, and I failed. And now Tara's gonna hang for it!” She wept openly.
“Why did she do it?” Nigel asked. His anger was hot, and his grief was fresh. But he had to know. He had to know why Eliel was dead.
“About a week ago, we caught your friend. We left you laying on the walk drunk. Me, Anny, and Traia held her for Tara. She started cutting on her and Legion came upon us. I ran like the fucking wind. I didn't want to go to prison and get raped,” she said quietly.
Nigel's anger flashed hotter. That's why Eliel had been acting so weird since that night he'd gotten smashed with her.
“Then the Legionnaires held Tara and let your friend fuck her with a cudgel!” She looked at Nigel with anger. “So fuck your friend, she fucking deserved it! The only reason I gave a damn about saving her is so Tara wouldn't hang for it!” Her tears streamed down her face freely.
“What the hell are you saying? She would never do something like that!” Nigel screamed back.
“You didn't see her, did you? She could hardly even walk, she'd been fucked so raw by your friend,” she glared. “And she was a virgin before that!”
“Not bloody likely bitch, you really think they're gonna hold your friend and let some other girl have all the fun? Yeah right. I've been in and out of the cells all over Vallad, and I can tell you that ain't how it works, honey. I've swallowed enough of their babies I shit soldiers now!” The disgusting prisoner said with a laugh.
Nigel cringed at that thought, but he had to admit, the nasty old bastard had a point. He didn't know from firsthand experience, but he did find it kind of weird that two men would hold a pretty girl while another girl used her like that. That didn't make any sense to him.
“She wouldn't lie to me!” The woman screamed at him.
“Did you see it?” Nigel asked, but he was pretty sure of the answer.
“No, I ran like hell like I said man,” she cried.
“Then how do you know?”
“Because she told me,” she said.
“I'm with nasty,” Nigel said pointing his thumb at the prisoner. “Tara was a pretty girl, a lot of men would want to lay with her.”
“Why would she lie to me about it?” The woman wailed.
“Why would she try to kill her when she told you otherwise, too? She fucking lied, that's all there is to it. Eliel wouldn't do that. I could see her giving her a good beating, but raping her with a cudgel while two Legionnaires held her? Yeah fucking right,” Nigel said with certainty.
The woman put her head in her hands and started sobbing.
“Legionnaires are the ones that fucked your girlfriend good and raw, just like I'm gonna do to you if they put you in my cell, sweetie. I promise I'll use a different hole each time to give you some respite,” the prisoner leered at her.
The woman screamed and kicked at him, trying her best to reach this disgusting excuse for a human being.
He just laughed, pulled his cock out of his trousers and started stroking. “You can't get me from there, but I can get you, honey!”
By the fucking spirits! Nigel could not even believe what he was seeing. He turned his head away and tried to hold onto his dinner with all of his might.
The woman quit kicking and huddled too, covering her face. Then he heard a loud Crack! And the laughing of that sick bastard turned into an agonized scream. Nigel felt warm wetness strike him and saw even more blood spray onto the woman's ruined dress.
“I've put up with a lot of shit from you, but now you've crossed the line, Krom.” Nigel risked turning his head slightly and saw the guard who was watching this room with his whip in hand. He walked up and grabbed the man's greasy hair from behind. The man held his penis, blood spraying from it while screaming in agony. He'd been here a lot if the guards knew him by name. Nigel normally wouldn't wish such pain on any man, but this one had earned an exception.
“Keys!” The guard with the whip called out.
Two more guards came in from the only doorway, a man, and a woman. The man with the whip nodded to the screaming man. Nigel saw them look at each other with disgust and play rock, paper, scissors quickly. The woman smirked triumphantly and handed the keys to the man.
“Dung,” Was all he said as he went around to the man, dropped to his knees and unlocked the chain from his manacles. When he rose, Nigel saw his face and helm were coated with blood.
The guard with the whip stepped aside to let the woman grab him by the hair and yank him up. “Come quickly bastard, lest you want to bleed out,” she said. He hobbled around the bench painfully holding his manhood. The bloody faced guardsman grabbed his shoulders. The woman took his ankles, she lifted and in perfect coordination they ushered him out.
Nigel was so shocked, he almost forgot why he was here.
Almost.
“Go to the Great City and get an education, my father said. He didn't tell me city folk were all fucking mad,” she breathed shakily.
In spite of everything, Nigel laughed weakly. “Where are you from?”
“I grew up on Trin's ranch east of Handal,” she said.
“I know a guy from near there,” Nigel took a deep breath thinking of Thorel. He still had to tell him what happened to Eliel. He wasn't looking forward to that. “His name is Thorel Tangarth. Do you know him?”
“I know who he is because of Tara. She was after him, but your friend got him. I never saw him before that though,” she said quietly.
Nigel nodded. Whatever her grievance with Eliel, he knew she hadn't killed her. She had tried to save her. She was the only person in this world that would ever truly understand the insanity of this night.
“Tara lied to me, didn't she?” She asked, he tone low.
“One story makes sense the other one doesn't. Pick your poison and make it a double,” Nigel put his head in his hands.
The woman wept for a time in silence. “Did your friend say anything to you about it?”
“No. She acted really weird after that night. She wouldn't talk about it at all,” Nigel shook his head.
“Maybe she did it and that's why she was acting weird,” she said, sounding unconvinced.
“Maybe she saw them do it, and that's why she was acting weird,” Nigel said.
“Maybe..,” was all she said, lapsing into another long silence.
“I'm Nigel. What's your name?” He asked, to break the silence.
“Nina,” she said.
“Well Nina, your friend and mine both lost on him. Thorel's the Great Lady Dothranan's man now,” he said sadly, fresh tears welling forth.
“Tara would cry if she knew,” she said quietly, wiping tears of her own.
“I won't tell her,” Nigel said, his heart hardening thinking of Eliel's killer.
Nina looked at the ceiling and said: “She's gonna hang anyway, might as well let her think she still had a chance,” she sniffed.
“Yeah, might as well,” Nigel said quietly. He couldn't hold on to his anger anymore. He could feel this girl's pain: if he could have gotten close enough he would have offered her his shoulder. Soon enough, she'll know the pain of losing a friend too.
* * *
Thorel walked through the woods with his fishing pole on his shoulder. The oiled leather bag hung over his shoulder with more lines and hooks in the outside pocket. He was heading toward the pond as he often did after a hard day's chores. He had Kin's Quest in his backpack today. He hadn't read that book in years. It was due time to read it again, he understood so much more about everything now.
“Hey there,” Eliel said sliding her arm around his waist. She hadn't been there a second ago, but it didn't seem out of place to him. She leaned on his shoulder and put her other hand on his arm. “What are you doing?”
“Heading to the pond to fish for a while. And if they aren't biting today at least I
have a good book to read. You?”
“I'm going somewhere,” she said quietly.
“Where?” He asked.
“I don't know. But I can't stay here anymore. I can't stay with you,” she said sadly.
“Why?” He asked with concern.
“I just can't. That's all,” she replied quietly.
Thorel frowned, wishing she could tell him why. “I'm going to miss you, Eliel.”
“Yeah,” was all she said quietly.
She was gone as suddenly as she came. Somehow he knew she wouldn't be back. But it was natural, he knew this in his heart.
“Safe journey, Eliel,” he whispered.
He continued walking down the leaf-covered path. It seemed like he should have reached the pond by now, but that didn't concern him. He knew he would get where he was going as long as he kept going forward.
The ambient noise of animals and insects disappeared, and the silence was palpable. He saw Ari standing by a tree in front of him, with her back to him. She wore a long blue dress with no sleeves, with her long blonde hair framing her bare shoulders.
That struck him as odd: Ari would never wear a dress without sleeves, because of her scars.
She crouched down to pet one cat and rubbed another's belly as it rolled in the leaves. That seemed like the strangest thing in the world to him. He would have never imagined Ari playing with cats.
“Ari!” He called out. She turned to look at him.
When she turned he could see that it wasn't Ari. She had many of her features, her blonde hair and blue eyes, and most of her height: but it wasn't her. There were no scars on her arms that he could see either.
He realized with a start this was the spirit beside Ari. The one that always looked at him.
When their eyes met, he felt a chill that went into his bones. She stood and began walking towards him. He was so startled he fell on his backside. His animal spirits came forward and began growling at the woman. She paid them no mind and continued towards him. He scrambled backward through the leaves never taking his eyes off of her.
The woman looked sad but felt angry. Thorel felt grief, fear, and horrible pain. More cats came out from behind nearby trees. They growled and hissed at Thorel's animal spirits. His spirits growled, hissed or bleated, given their nature, but they gave ground before the hissing felines.
Thorel had backed himself against a tree and could go no further. “Who are you?” He asked.
She didn't answer, she only continued walking slowly.
Thorel had never been this afraid. The Kryss he'd seen in that alley hadn't scared him half as much as this woman did.
She reached out to touch him.
* * *
Thorel woke with a start with his heart pounding in his chest. He was drenched in sweat. The light was dim, only the wall lamp he'd turned down to nearly off lit the room.
Ari was still in his bed: he knew even though he could hardly see her in the darkness. He could see her eleven spirits glowing ethereally around her sleeping form.
The woman's spirit stood there looking at him.
Thorel's heart rate gradually slowed. He looked at the clock in the dim light. It was a quarter before the fourth hour.
He looked at the woman's spirit: there was no mistaking it. It was definitely the woman from his dream. He shivered when he met her eyes.
That had been the most vivid dream he'd ever had in his life. But it was still just a dream he knew. At least he tried hard to convince himself of that.
“Who are you?” He asked quietly.
The woman's spirit simply stared at him silently.
“Thorel!” He heard a voice outside his door. He got up and made his way to it and heard “Thorel!!!” again.
It was Nigel's voice. He opened the door and was nearly blinded by the bright light in the hallway. He put his hand over his eyes so he could see.
“Thorel!” Nigel yelled again. Thorel could see Nigel was being restrained by Ari's personal guards. He wondered why, but it didn't look like they were hurting him.
“Ari's sleeping man,” Thorel yawned and closed the door quietly. “What's going on?”
“Keep it quiet. Don't disturb the Mistress,” the guard holding Nigel had said firmly before he released him.
Nigel looked like hell. There was a small spot of blood on his chest and several more on his coat. His eyes were red and puffy. Streaks of dried tears covered half of his face.
“What happened to you, man?” Thorel asked, instantly alert.
“Forget me,” Nigel sniffled and tears started running down his face. “It's Eliel... she's..,” Nigel choked on the words.
Thorel's heart dropped. “I can't stay here anymore,” she said in the dream, still vivid and clear in his mind.
“She's dead, man!” Nigel managed to finish with difficulty.
Thorel stepped back into the door numbly. No. was all his stunned mind could manage before the strength left his legs and he slid down the front of it onto the floor. He stared forward, remembering the dream. Was it really her telling him goodbye? His tears started abruptly and rolled down his face. He put his hand on his pained heart and took a ragged breath.
“How?” He asked quietly.
Nigel knelt down in front of him. “She was murdered. Nina and the Guards did everything they could for her, man,” he sniffed.
“When?” Thorel breathed. He didn't want to believe it. But he knew it was true. A part of him had known during the dream too, but it had seemed unimportant while he dreamed. It was an abstract knowledge compared to this hard reality he now faced.
“About an hour after I left here, something like that,” Nigel wiped his tears with his sleeve.
“By the spirits, man!” Thorel cried. He'd never wept like this before in his life, never felt the kind of heart-wrenching agony he was feeling right now.
Nigel took his big hand in both of his, barely covering it and squeezed.
“The guards hauled us all in. They only let me go because both the driver and Nina told them I wasn't there when it happened,” Nigel shook his head sadly.
An older guardsmen knelt by them and spoke: “Gentlemen, I'm truly sorry for your loss. I know your pain well, but I have to ask you to take this somewhere else. It would be hard to fight with the two of you underfoot if a threat came for the Mistress.”
Nigel nodded to the guard and looked at Thorel. “C'mon man,” he pulled on Thorel's hand.
Thorel used his free hand to push himself up, while Nigel helped pull him up with both hands. When he stood, he embraced him tightly.
“Gah, Thorel, I can't breathe man,” he croaked.
Thorel loosened his grip but kept a hold of him. His tears flowed freely. This embrace was the only thing that held him from falling deeper into the pit of despair. It welled from where his heart used to be.
* * *
Ari woke up groggily. By the spirits, she felt horrible. She hadn't even felt this bad when she had been sick in bed for a week when she was eight years old. A Doctor had attended her constantly: she had been vomiting so much they worried that she might not live. Her father had been there often and slept in a chair by her bedside at night.
She had loved him so much back then. More than her own life. She thought he could do anything.
But that was before she had learned the truth: he wouldn't do anything.
She opened her eyes and closed them just as quickly. The light from the windows was so bright, it made a lance of pain into her skull.
“Ari? Are you awake?” She heard Kira's voice. The sound made her pounding head hurt more.
She simply nodded. Even that slight motion made her feel ill. Her mouth was dry and tasted like sour wine. It reminded her of how her father's breath had often smelled.
“Speak quietly,” Ari breathed.
“Ok,” she whispered.
“What happened last night?” She asked.
“I heard you enjoyed several bottles,” Kira said quietly.
“By the spirits, I feel terrible,” she said.
“I'm sorry Ari. I have water, that will help you feel better,” she said.
“How would you know?” Ari asked irritably. She loved Kira like the older sister she would never have, but she couldn't even read or write. She had been a slave until Ari had freed her, her mother and her son after she became the Mistress of House Dothranan.
“I know because Master Arayan did this often,” Kira said bluntly.
Ari grimaced at that. She hated the fact that she had done anything that could be compared to him. That had been a good enough reason for her to never get drunk before now. But faced with this horrible feeling she was experiencing, she now had a better reason not to.
She remembered the last year her father was alive, he took Kira to his bed often, and he had her stay to serve him when he woke up from his drunks. Ari got lonely when he did that. Kira had been her only companion through all of her torments.
While Siri was her strong right arm for running her Hold and political affairs, Kira was her anchor that had kept her from going completely mad, or committing suicide years ago.
“Alright Kira,” she said, embarrassed for doubting her. She may not be able to read, but she wasn't stupid: just uneducated. She wasn't in the habit of saying things she didn't know were true.
Ari risked opening her eyes again: the daylight had been shining through her eyelids painfully since she'd woke up, but they were beginning to adjust to it.
She saw an unfamiliar room: she could tell she was still in the Manor, but that was all she was sure of. “Where are we?” She kept her eyes half closed to give them time to adjust.
“On the twelfth floor, in Thorel Tangarth's room,” Kira said with a glimmer in her eyes.
Ari's eyes bugged. She didn't even remember coming here! She threw the blankets back and found she was fully clothed, and that her white dress with the red lightning patterns had wine stains on the breast. It was bad enough she had ruined one of her favorite dresses, but she was afraid she was going to find herself naked with her womanhood used raw beneath that blanket.
Ari breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn't been violated. “How did I get here?”
Spirit of Magik (The Dothranan Chronicles Book 1) Page 32