Dark Feather: A Dark Post Apocalyptic Romance

by Hensley,Alta

  I recognized its stony circular shape. I quickly rooted through my ratty old satchel. In my hand was poison—the same poison I had used to kill my father. When dissolved in water, the substance would inflict the drinker with a sensation similar to a vice squeezing the heart. I ran as fast as I could toward the Penna’s main water supply. Before dropping the poison in the well, I paused. I knew that by doing this, I would kill the entire encampment. My hand trembled over the top of the well.

  I closed my eyes to bring me strength. I could do this. I had to do this. The war needed to come to an end. Just let go. Just let the poison go.

  I wasn’t aware of the assailant until wood made contact with my head with a force so strong I heard my skull rattle. A loud ringing in my ears soon became nothing but darkness.

  * * * * *

  My head was pounding as I opened my eyes with a groan. The room was dark, only lit by the moonlight shining through a high window covered with bars. Looking around as my eyes adjusted, I saw that I was the only one in what I now knew was a cell. I was caught, a captive, a prisoner of war.

  Should I say something? Would anybody hear me? It wasn’t until I sat squarely on my knees that I realized I was naked. Everything smelled of urine, and I could hear the scurrying of critters hidden in the shadows. I rubbed the large lump on my head where I had been struck. Not sure what to do, I desperately pressed my ear to the stone wall and heard a muffled noise. Was it screaming?

  I stood, staggering forward a few steps. My ankles and joints felt sore, like I could drop at any moment. With my arms outstretched, it seemed like the blackness had no end.

  Someone walked in holding a burning torch, and a stranger in the room spoke. “Our prized archer has returned.”

  I wrapped my arms around my exposed body the best I could. “Yes,” I replied.

  The man with the raspy voice walked closer and closer until I could see the depths of his intense brown eyes. Aside from their color, they glistened with a look that sent chills right through my bones. I knew him to be the new general of the Penna. The Penna were on their fourth general since I killed my father, but this one was by far the most ruthless of them all combined.

  “Did General Becker send you here? Or Commander Rigby Moss?” the general asked.

  “No,” I said. “I came of my own accord.”

  “To kill your own kind? To kill people who have the same blood running through their veins as yours?”

  I remained silent.

  The man eyed me and kneeled at my side. “I found this,” he said, holding the poison between his index finger and thumb.

  I closed my eyes in shame. I still held on to the faintest hope that before I had been knocked unconscious and captured, I had managed to drop the poison in the well. I had clearly failed.

  The man grabbed my chin. “I admire you, Tudor. Or should I say… mercenary?” he asked with a scorpion grin. “So brave, yet so foolish.”

  Not once did the ruthless general gawk at my exposed body—his thirst for power overruled any other thirst.

  I yanked my chin from his grasp and spat. “Go to hell.”

  Before I could even prepare, the general pulled back and slapped his hand across my face so hard, I stumbled back in shock.

  “Know your place, bitch!” He composed himself and painted a disgusting, vile smile on his face. “If you are a naughty, naughty girl, Daddy will have to step in and teach you a lesson. Would you like that, little girl?”

  I glared daggers as my only response.

  “Good girl. I didn’t think so. I will leave now. You’ll need the rest. Tomorrow, you’ll no longer be the Cyans’ little feathered pet. Tomorrow, I will work you like a fucking dog.”

  I looked up at him, wanting to attack, to show he had no control over me, and yet I knew that the sickness I felt in my gut at what Rigby would endure because of my act was most likely reflected in my eyes. The general spun on his heels with an evil snicker, and I could hear the flat sounds of his footsteps as he exited the chamber. Not too long after he left, I sank down onto the floor, rolled on my back, and closed my eyes as exhaustion took over.

  After a too-brief slumber, I heard keys jangle in my chamber door. A soldier violently grabbed my arm and thrust me out of the small stone cell. I collapsed into the snow with my mouth gaping. He tossed a tunic at me. I grabbed it and slipped it quickly over my body, grateful to regain my modesty.

  “Walk,” the soldier commanded.

  I marched forward to the outskirts of the encampment and then beyond. The morning sun shone high over the endless snow. We continued to walk along the icy land until I worried about dehydration and exhaustion. Finally, in the distance, I saw a group of soldiers around what was left of a battle. Dead bodies splayed across the horizon came into view as I made my way to the general himself.

  “There is much work to be done here, traitor,” the general said. “You see those dead bodies out there? Go bury the men you and your Cyan masters killed.” He pointed to the men fallen in the latest skirmish. “Make room for your own when we execute you for treason.”

  When I didn’t move, the soldier escorting me kicked my bad leg, causing me to cry out. “Go!” he shouted. “You heard the general.”

  “You will do this, Tudor. You have two choices. Do it now, as I asked, or do it once we strip you bare. Your choice. But hesitate for a second longer, and you will be nude as you do it,” the general spat.

  Not wanting to give the men the opportunity to look at what I now considered to belong to Rigby, I did as the general asked and began digging the hole. Though the subzero temperature would ensure the bodies wouldn’t undergo rapid decomposition, the fallen had already become as pale as the snow they lay upon, and as unyielding as the swords they’d wielded. When I draped the stiff arm of a dead soldier around my neck, it felt like I was carrying a heavy block of ice with skin. The corpses were all twice my size, and my shoulders were on fire. I had never been weak, but I found it near impossible to balance the dead soldier’s weight. It got heavier with each agonizing step. My sweaty hands lost their grip, and I went tumbling in the snow. I continued picking up the frostbitten bodies, wondering how many I could move before I collapsed.

  I glanced over my shoulder and saw a light flicker in the distance. Something, or someone was hiding amongst the ridges. Could it be Rigby? Would he come looking for me? When he woke and found me missing, would he instantly know what my plan would be?

  My answer came in the welcome battle cry of Rigby’s army as they charged the death-infested battleground.

  “They’re coming! Grab your swords!” the general hollered. He ran to his snowmobile, hooked his hand on a sword, and drove right into the chaos of the fray, a horde of soldiers following suit.

  “Spill every drop of their blood!” a Cyan warrior screamed, erupting through the front of the horde. Finally seeing him, I felt overwhelmed when I recognized the man I loved led this attack. He had come for me.

  Rigby swerved past and swung out his sword with surprising speed. In one fell swoop, he hacked through a throng of heads. Rigby’s men pushed through the raging swarm. They pulled their shields forward, forming a surging barricade and then drew their swords. Rigby struck his sword deep and rapidly pulled back. Blood misted the air as bodies staggered and fell. Endless waves of men sliced through bone in a melee of sharp and jagged swords. Rigby brought up his arm with a dagger in his fist, and rammed it hard, goring a jagged line down a brute’s back. At least a hundred men battled in the hills of snow. Rigby looked around as his men outnumbered the Penna’s dying army. Rigby drove toward his enemy and the man who had dared capture his woman with vengeance. In a split second, he struck and gouged out the general’s eye with little effort as he pushed past him to where I stood.

  Rigby dismounted his snowmobile and stood in front of me. A black rage encompassed his entire being, and a chill ran deep along my spine. The fury of a betrayed man stood before me, and I didn’t know what to do or say.

  “You
came,” I eventually said as my legs wobbled beneath me.

  The way he looked at me was terrifying. I feared my hero. I dreaded my rescue.

  He reached out his hand, and in one smooth action, lifted me up into his seat. He looked into my eyes and patted my leg in reassurance, which allowed me to release the breath I had been holding.

  “Thank you—”

  “Stop!” he barked. “Do not thank me. Don’t say another fucking word until we get to safety.”

  I nodded my compliance as I didn’t dare poke the ferocious bear any further.

  I didn’t have time to wallow in my shame of upsetting the man I had grown to love, because a surprise attack had me screaming out a warning for Rigby to watch his back. When Rigby turned around, the general, with blood gushing out of his eye, brutally tried to stab at him, but missed and slashed along the flesh of his ribs instead. Rigby bowed slightly, tottering back a few small paces, but quickly shook off the pain. He flipped the knife around and thrust it into the general’s thigh. It smashed down so hard it had to have hit the bone. The general spun around and hobbled off into the chaos of battle.

  Rigby mounted his snowmobile while I sat in a stunned daze. He took the handles in his strong grip, trying to hide what had to be a searing pain. A clash of men still hollered as the battle was fought with throaty valor. I slumped against Rigby’s back, my eyes half-open as we charged through the oncoming blizzard and back to our encampment.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The shattering roar of hundreds of soldiers fighting to the death could be heard faintly in the setting sun. Effortlessly, Rigby hopped to the ground. When I tried to mimic the move, I tripped and nearly landed in the snow. He jumped out in front of me and broke my fall. We met eyes until I pulled away.

  “I don’t know what to say. I went with the intention to poison their water supply,” I tried to explain. “It may not have been the wisest move but—”

  Rigby narrowed his eyes. “You’ll not say another word!” I had never heard him speak with such venom. The way he looked at me was like a punch to the gut. He was furious. Beyond fury, to a level I had never seen in a man before.

  He clasped his hand around my throat and pressed firmly. The shock of his aggression took what little air I had available. A darkness of sorts seemed to blanket his features. “What in the hell were you thinking?” he hissed between clenched teeth. His hand tightened around my throat even more. He could kill me right now if he wanted to. I knew this. I could feel this.

  “Rigby,” I gasped. “Please let me explain.”

  “Do not call me Rigby. You call me sir and show me the respect of a commander,” he snapped.

  His words, his anger, his aggression were far worse of a punishment than I imagined. What I wouldn’t do for the biting sting of his hand on my ass instead of this. His fingers tightened around my neck even further until I could barely take in a full breath.

  “Sir,” I squeaked with very little air.

  With his hand tightly around my neck, he pushed me down to my knees so he towered over me. He reached out with his other hand, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and yanked my head back so I had no choice but to stare into his eyes of rage.

  “Never! Never again! Do you hear me? Never!” he roared as he yanked my hair so hard my scalp sizzled with pain.

  “Yes, sir. Yes, sir.”

  Rigby paused for an excruciating moment, with one hand grasping my hair and the other choking me. Taking a deep breath, he released me, but the fury in his eyes remained.

  I needed to remove myself from the situation. Rigby was pissed, and remaining kneeling before him seemed about as foolish as entering a Penna encampment by myself. “I should go and check on the men. If they are injured, I should—”

  He clenched my wrist, and yanked me to standing. “You are in more trouble than you can possibly imagine. It is best you remain quiet and don’t do a thing unless I tell you to.”

  “I was trying to help. I was trying to—”

  “Get yourself killed, and kill my men while you do it?” he interrupted. “You left without saying a word. You snuck out of here like a deserter. You disappointed me. You are smarter than that, Tudor. You acted like a stupid teenage girl who is crying out for attention. We don’t have time for this behavior in the Cyan army. I certainly don’t have time for this shit.”

  With tears in my eyes, I threw myself against Rigby’s broad chest which was covered in ice and frozen drops of blood. “I am sorry. I acted impulsively. I don’t know why I did it. I just wanted so badly to help, to end this all.”

  “I should whip you in front of all the men. A lash for every minute you made me fear for your life. Men died and are dying as we speak because of you, Tudor! You signed their death warrants with your careless behavior!”

  I looked down at the ground and nodded. “I would deserve that, but I hope you take care of matters in private. I deserve the worst kind of punishment. I know that. But please,” I looked up at him with tears pouring down my face. “In private, please. Take me in hand as you see fit, but I beg you to spare what dignity I have with these men. I’ve worked so hard to earn their respect. Please don’t make me lose it, even if I actually deserve to.”

  My shoulders shook with my sobs as I grieved each man who would die because of me. I cried even harder into Rigby’s broad chest when he eventually, and mercifully, held me to him. Such a simple act, and yet the weight of his embrace caused me to release a flood of tears. I cried, I howled, I begged incoherently for forgiveness while he just held me firmly in place.

  “I’m so sorry,” I finally muttered when I regained some control in my complete meltdown. “I know I don’t deserve you to forgive me, since I did put so many lives at risk. But please, Rigby. Please, forgive me.” I sniffed and swiped away my tears as I pulled back just enough to look into his eyes as he looked down at me. “I am so sorry. Never again. I will never again act alone.”

  “I thought I’d lost you,” Rigby whispered as he stroked my hair. His voice softened. “I feared I wouldn’t reach you in time.”

  I didn’t know until that minute how badly I needed a sign of his love. I could no longer hold back the sobs I believed I had regained control of and cried again, releasing my pain, my fear, and my shame even more. Would I ever stop? Would I ever be free of the darkness inside of me?

  After a few moments, I pulled back and swiped at my tears once more, remembering that Rigby was injured. I looked down as he lifted his tunic. Expecting to see a deep gash at the very least, and a gaping, jagged wound at the worst, I was surprised to see a thin red line along his side. Though it was oozing blood, it wasn’t going to kill him. However, from the look in his eyes, I might not be so lucky

  “I will be fine. It’s superficial at best.” He glared at me. “After I am finished with you, my wound will seem minimal compared to your discomfort.” He wrapped his arms around me tightly and kissed the top of my head. “You understand a punishment is due? Not a tantalizing game of submission, but a true punishment.”

  I nodded, trembling against his hard torso. He took a deep breath and let me go.

  “Now, go get cleaned up and settle in for the night,” he whispered in my ear. I didn’t want to let him go. As I walked to enter the tent, I looked back and saw Rigby getting back on his snowmobile.

  “You’re leaving now?” I asked, my cheeks wet from tears.

  “I will be back before morning. I need to make sure all my men return. The battle is not over yet.” He gave a reassuring smile and then a glare. “When I return, be waiting for your punishment.”

  I wiped my puffy eyes with the back of my hand. Rigby’s snowmobile revved loudly before taking off toward the enemy—and possible death—again. This was all because of me, and the shame I felt brought on a new wave of tears. What was wrong with me? Crying? Penna don’t cry! Penna don’t care! Penna don’t love. And yet… I was doing all three.

  * * * * *

  He summoned me the next morning, and I arrived wi
th a heavy heart. I had been up all night as his disappointment in me broke my spirit. He was dressed down as much as he could be with the cold temperatures even inside the tent; a belted tunic, undershirt, and trousers in the palest of brown tones. As soon as I arrived, he gestured for me to enter fully—but he didn’t turn to face me. I stopped a few feet away after doing as I was bid. Hesitation tangled at my feet before I finally drew the courage to speak.

  “Rigby?”

  “Tudor.” He finally turned to face me, but his expression was somber—verging on grim. “The mess you made is cleaned up… for now.”

  “My apologies, sir. It will not happen again.” I ducked my head repentantly and stared at my hands, folded as they were in front of me.

  “I will see that it doesn’t.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The silence that hung after my words was painful, and I fought the urge to lift my head and look upon his face. It was only when he closed the distance between us, and touched my chin with his fingers, that I had no choice but to look into his dissatisfied expression.

  “I should take you outside and spank you in front of all the men. I should show them what happens to foolish girls. If you act like a reckless child, I should treat you like one.”

  My heart stopped, and I had the sudden urge to vomit. “Please, no.” I knew I would never regain the men’s respect if that were to happen. That first time… the day I had wandered into their camp had been different. Yes, Rigby had ordered me stripped, had spanked my bare ass, but things had changed… we had changed. The thought of having my nude bottom exposed again to all their lurking eyes made my body break out into a cold sweat.

  “It is lucky for you that they are under the belief that I ordered the espionage, and you were only acting on command.” He began to pace the room. “Because of that, your punishment will be for my eyes only.”

  A wave of relief washed over me. “Thank you,” I barely whispered. I wanted desperately to cry and to beg him just to hold me. I wanted his loving touch so much that it physically hurt. I had endured injuries in battle. I had felt the burning slice of a blade against my skin, and yet nothing made me ache as much as I did knowing how deeply I’d disappointed this man.