Whisper

by Christine Grey

  As the group moved on, stray dogs started to appear, seemingly from nowhere. Dearra watched in confusion as they circled and sniffed. Her lack of clarity was short-lived, as the half-starved animals descended on the injured man in the streets. The man uttered a single, terrible, choked scream before the largest dog sank its teeth into his throat and ended his suffering.

  Carly’s head hung low, her hair covering her face as tears slipped down her cheeks. This was not a life lost in battle. That would have been something she could understand. This was a life snuffed out because of casual cruelty and indifference. And then to see him deprived of the comfort of a loved one and reduced to no more than a meal for dogs? Well, it was all too much for sweet Carly to bear.

  The Falco guard who had stepped forward to end the dispute looked on with mild curiosity at the strange reaction of the Maj female. How odd that she should weep for a slave, and someone she didn’t even know at that. The dogs made quick work of the hapless slave—what more was there to be done? He shook his head in disapproval.

  Dearra felt Carly’s shoulder’s shake as she cried. She wrapped her arms around her friend’s waist and gently took the reins from her trembling fingers. She nudged Khan’s flanks with her heels, and Dearra held her head high and looked straight ahead as they left the grisly scene behind them to make their way deeper into the city.

  Time seemed to almost stand still as they wound their way through that terrible city. Carly’s tears had dried, and she had regained the cool composure she was so known for. She wondered how one could grieve in a place like this when each turning of a corner only served to reveal further atrocities. Surrounding them was a place where death seemed almost preferable to life. Dearra had been right when she compared this place to a desert bloom. On the outside it was colorful and drew you in to peer closely at its vibrant display. It was only when you came close, too close, did you discover the living thing before you was carnivorous, and you were but one more morsel to be devoured by it.

  Dirty children clung to their mother’s skirts as they worked in and around the homes of their Breken masters, their small fingers wound tightly in the fabric and holding fast as they tried to avoid being stepped on by their ever-moving parent. Remembering the starving dogs that waited just out of sight, it wasn’t hard for Dearra to understand what made these children cling so closely. Dark circles like bruises shone under their eyes, casting reflections that were mirrors of despair Dearra dare not look to deeply into, lest she find herself pulled into such profound pools of anguish that she’d never make her way free of them.

  The slaves were almost everywhere, covered in grime, the clothes they wore literally disintegrating around them. Others were put into coarse garments which rubbed their skin raw until, mercifully, it became hard and calloused. Even in the desert where water was scarce, Dearra wondered if it was necessary for these people to be quite so unclean, or if it was just one more way for the Breken to entertain themselves, one more, severe way to dominate and control.

  On the whole, the city was remarkably clean and well maintained. No refuse littered the streets as it did in Bandar, and the air was sweet with the scent of burning incense. The rich smell of burning dung was also in the air, though it was not heavy or cloying. There was probably not much need for it during the day, but Dearra imagined, in a place with few trees, dung would be a necessary heat source when the temperatures plummeted at night. Still, that much manure meant many, many horses, and Dearra shook her head at the staggering amount of feed that would be needed to keep the system sustainable. At least they were able to get something back for all the work it took to bring in fodder for their mounts.

  The guard that had stayed mostly out of the way as they went now rode alongside of Khan, keeping a respectful distance. It didn’t take the two young women long to realize they were being herded. After a while, Dearra saw that they had progressed towards the towering stone wall she had seen when they first approached Darak. It looked like a part of some mountain that had been ground down until only this last vestige of its greatness remained. Dearra could not see the whole of the wall with her vision obstructed by the surrounding buildings, but she was able to see enough to recognize that it still towered hundreds of feet above the ground. Its base was quite broad and curved in on itself, so that what at first appeared to be a flat wall was, in fact, more crescent shaped.

  Just before they reached the imposing rock, all other structures ceased, and a completely open expanse where there were no buildings, people, or even smaller rocks or brush was revealed. Once they got close enough, Dearra could see three banners hanging at intervals around the crescent of stone. Beneath each of these was an elaborate doorway carved in the stone.

  Above the first entry there hung a pennant of green and black, depicting a serpent wrapping itself around a vial, venom dripping from one fang.

  Above the second doorway waved a banner of red and black, the cloth looking more liquid than solid as it roiled and flowed upon the hot desert breeze. The red reminded Dearra of the color of blood, and it chilled her to look upon it, even with the mid-day sun beating down upon it. On the red background was a black bird, wings spread and talons poised as if it were ready to grasp an unsuspecting prey.

  The flag over the third door was gold and black, and the standard showed two thin flashes of lightning intertwined into one.

  We go to house Falco, Brin said, his voice no more than a whisper as they drew nearer to the center doorway. Dearra wondered what would make him so cautious as to whisper, though he spoke only to her mind. Then she remembered Darius’s gift, and she thought she could appreciate his caution. It’s one of the three ruling houses of the city, though ‘ruling’ may not be quite the right word for it. Describing them as disciplining houses might be better. House Falco’s standard is the red and black one in the center. You have seen it before, though never as you see it now. They like to impose as much fear as possible here, at their seat of power, where they control the largest army in the city. Any time another family starts to accumulate more than is deemed appropriate, House Falco swoops down to crush them for some made up infraction or other.

  Why don’t a few of the lesser houses band together to take down House Falco? Dearra asked.

  Simply put, they don’t trust each other enough to see it through. It’s been tried, many times, actually. But someone always sells out their own house to House Falco to gain financial reward for turning the ‘rebel’ house in. Those who shared the information are taken in by House Falco and rewarded with rank and position, thereby encouraging future betrayals. Meanwhile, the offending house is decimated, and many of their warriors find themselves wearing red and black in place of their old, disgraced uniform.

  The house to the left is House Vipera. They pride themselves on their medical knowledge, though, truth be told, they provide potions of death far more often than potions of healing. For a price, of course. Countless silent coups have taken place over the years with nothing more than a carefully placed drop of poison. The lord of that house seldom ventures forth, preferring to remain safely concealed within his sanctuary of stone. With the number of deaths he is responsible for, it’s probably a wise decision.

  The house on the right belongs to House Tempestas. They practice all forms of dark magic. Suffice it to say, it was from that house that came my destruction, and I will not speak further of it.

  So, it is from here, inside the fortresses of stone, they ‘govern’. Their backs are protected by rock, and the only families they truly fear are so near to them, that infighting would only bring destruction to them all.

  Nice place, Dearra thought.

  Dearra, you haven’t seen anything yet. And by Tolah’s grace, you never will.

  Khan came to a stop just short of the guard standing outside the immense entryway. There were only two of them, but Dearra had little doubt that many, many more waited just inside the recesses of the forbidding archway.

  The two girls slipped down from Khan’s broa
d back as he lowered himself to the ground. This seemed to greatly amuse the Breken who had escorted them to this point, and they chuckled and made what were obviously crude remarks, though they did so in their own guttural tongue.

  Filthy pigs, Brin hissed, fully aware of what they had said.

  Dearra chose to ignore her angry companion, and instead, rested her hand on the hilt of her sword, shrugged her shoulders, and spoke casually to Carly. “After you.”

  Carly huffed. “Gee, thanks,” she said, and she took a step towards the door.

  “Don’t mention it,” Dearra teased. “Someone has to watch your back.”

  “Yeah, not to mention stay as close to the only exit as possible.”

  “That, too,” Dearra whispered. And they stepped across the threshold, and into the cruel claw of House Falco.

  Chapter 30

  Phillip

  It’s just the same thing here, all of the time: work, sleep, work, sleep. It wouldn’t be so bad if I could get them in even parts, but it seems like I only get to rest when they aren’t looking so close, and that isn’t too often, I can tell you.

  One kind of funny thing happened the other day. I snuck into the nursery after they had taken the little ones off to do whatever it is they do with them. I was mostly looking around for some kind of weapon I could steal, because even though they aren’t more than babies, let me tell you, they can be almost as mean as some of their folks.

  They give those little ones knives when they are just big enough to walk. They’re not very big knives, and they’re not very sharp, but still!

  Zuzu said, that way they learn early.

  I said, but what if they get cut?

  And she said, well then they won’t make that mistake again, will they? Besides, that’s why the knives aren’t so sharp.

  So then I asked her, what if they fall down and get stabbed to death. They are plenty sharp and long enough to pierce a heart. Not a grown man’s heart for sure, but a baby’s heart, no problem.

  Then she told me that if that happened it would just be natural causes, and that there’d be nothing you could do about that kind of thing.

  So then I said, Natural? How can a baby stabbing itself in the chest be natural causes?

  Zuzu’s forehead kind of scrunched up as she thought about it a bit, and then she said that a child like that really wasn’t bright enough to live long anyway, so “naturally” he would have ended up dead, one way or another.

  I told her that that was probably one of the saddest things I’d ever heard in my life. Babies were supposed to be kissed and hugged and cuddled and all that kind of stuff. Even I know you don’t let a baby play with a knife. You give them little boats and dolls and stuff like that. I told Zuzu she had some of the craziest ideas I’d ever heard of.

  She just shook her head at me, kind of wide eyed, and told me she felt exactly the same way about me, and what the hell was a doll?

  Don’t be mad, Father, she said it, not me.

  Anyway, back to the nursery. I looked high and low but I couldn’t find any trace of those toys they play with, but then, as I was about to go, I saw, way back along one wall behind this fancy table, a small bag, and inside it, pistachios. That’s a kind of nut they eat here. I know it doesn’t sound like a whole lot, but after all the nasty stuff I eat, it looked like candy to me. I grabbed it up fast as I could and snuck it back to my sleeping place.

  My mouth was watering for wanting that treat so much, but after thinking about all the stuff Zuzu had said, well I figured life must be pretty miserable here for her. I mean, I’ve only been here a little while. She doesn’t remember anything nice at all. So, anyway, I decided to wait until dark and we could share it. It wasn’t much, but I figured it was better than nothing.

  I waited a long time for Zusia to show up. I heard a whole lot of yelling and screaming around supper time, and then no one brought me anything to eat at all, but since I had my secret treasure, it wasn’t really a big loss at all. Still, it was kind of strange that Zuzu didn’t come after another couple hours. She always shows up, you know, mostly to bug me. But still, it’s good to have a friend, even if it is a girl.

  I started getting worried that maybe all that yelling I heard earlier had something to do with her, and maybe she went and got herself a good beating again, but then, just when I was going to risk sneaking off to look for her, she slipped into my room. There aren’t any windows in here, and they don’t bother with much light in a room they aren’t using because it gets smoky, so the light was pretty dim, but still, I could tell she was all worked up over something.

  When I asked her what it was, she said, nothing, really, just another one of those natural deaths she had been talking about earlier, and that I shouldn’t ask so many questions if I knew what was good for me.

  I ask if it was one of those little babies and she nodded. Stabbed? I ask, but she shook her head no to that. Since it was pretty obvious she wasn’t going to tell me any more, I told her I had a surprise for her, and she should wait a second.

  I pulled the little bag out from under the cloth I slept on, and she darn near bounced up and down to see what it was. I opened the pouch and poured some of the little nuts out into my hand for her to have a better look. Her mouth formed into a kinda O shape and then she grinned from ear to ear. I spent a couple of minutes sorting them out just so, making sure we had the exact same number each, and that if one of us got a big one, then the other also got a big one to keep it even. Thank Cyrus there were an even number of the blasted things or we might still be sitting there trying to decide how to split the odd one between us.

  So we sat there in the quiet, looking at our treasure and I said, so who’s going to go first?

  She told me I should go first. It was me that found them, and she figured I should have the first taste.

  I agreed with her, but I thought the gentlemanly thing to do would be to let her go first. I may be a prisoner, but I ain’t no savage, for Cyrus’s sake. Besides, I supposed you’d like that. So I say, no, no, no. Ladies first.

  She puffed up proud as could be when I said that and kind of smoothed her hand along the front of the dirty tunic she wore, like she was primping a little bit.

  Women!

  She scans the little pile and picks out the plumpest one of the lot. I thought I was gonna go crazy waiting for her to pop the thing into her mouth, but then she does. She didn’t even chew it at first, but kind of let it rest there on her tongue. Been a long time, she said, but I don’t remember them tasting so…funny. Where’d you say you got these?

  So, that bothered me a little bit. I mean, here I split half of my treasure with her and she was criticizing them? So I told her that if she didn’t want them, she could just hand them over. I was mostly teasing, but I snatched one off her pile anyway and went to put it in my mouth.

  She grabbed my wrist, hard, and asked me again where I got them from.

  I found them stashed in the nursery, I said, kind of irritated with her.

  She spit that nut out faster than you could say, Maj, scooped all of them back into the sack they came from, and asked me where exactly in the nursery, all the while spitting like crazy.

  I told her, and she went bolting out the door. I just sat there stunned, not knowing what to think. Finally, she came slinking back in the room and plopped down on the floor next to me, all covered in sweat.

  What was that all about? I asked her. What was wrong with the pistachios? Were they rotten or something?

  It took her a couple of minutes to slow her breathing down enough to answer me. You remember me telling you about that baby dying from earlier today, she asked me.

  I said, sure I do, but what has that got to do with my bag of nuts, and she says, that those weren’t pistachios in that bag.

  And I said, oh yeah? Well then, what were they? And she said…natural causes.

  Chapter 31

  Darius paced back and forth in the small patch of shade offered by the stone formation where th
ey had stopped. As far as shelter went, it was fairly pitiful, but it was better than being left completely exposed. They would still be easily seen if any Breken patrols came their way, and since they were so close to Darak, that was entirely possible, but it couldn’t be helped. Darius wanted to be as close as possible to Dearra should anything happen. There were, unfortunately, two problems he was dealing with. One, as soon as they entered House Falco, Brin went silent. Darius could not know if it was because he had gone beyond Darius’s range of hearing, if House Falco had some type of protection spell in place, or if Brin had simply stopped speaking as a precaution against any others who may be able to hear him.

  His second, larger problem was this: even if Dearra were in trouble, and Brin could call for help, even if, by some miracle, Darius were able to battle his way past several hundred Breken warriors and into House Falco, all he would have succeeded in doing was to be sure they would die together.

  It went against every instinct Darius had to have let her enter that place at all. Though he understood why Carly had to go, he could not understand what sense it made for Dearra to accompany her as her guard. Darius knew the Breken had allowed it as no more than a token gesture. What could one woman do against hundreds of Breken, after all?

  Carly would have probably been safer going it alone, in order to avoid the Breken’s attempt to use the women against each other, as if, with Phillip already being held, the Breken needed any more leverage against them. The whole thing was so frustrating. Point and counter point to every mental argument he made swirled maddeningly in his head until, at last, he sat down on one of the small rocks nearby and held his head in his hands.

  ***

  Daniel leaned against one of the taller stones. Remarkably, it felt almost cool against his back. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that the sun that had been beating down on his back and shoulders as they rode and the stone had been sitting in shadow, so it was only cool by comparison. Whatever the reason, he was grateful for the respite it offered from the relentless heat. His eyes drifted closed as he listened to the sound of Darius’s boots as he paced on stone and sand. It was exhausting just listening to the boy. Why couldn’t he just sit down and wait as Daniel did? After all, conserving his energy was really the smart thing to do, seeing as there was no telling how long they would have to wait there. Whether it be minutes or days, no amount of pacing or fretting was going to change that.