Silent Heart

by Susan Simone

  Then they burned me again, this time along one of the welts in my back. Over the next several hours they slowly tortured me, finding more tender places than I thought my body had. I lost track of how many times they marred my flesh, not caring in the end. The pain slowly diffused until I was one large hurt, but then the new blows didn’t affect me.

  Losing most of my response, they tired of their game and their questions. The ropes were untied and I collapsed into a heap on the floor not caring if they would pull me up again or not. I coughed pitifully and hugged my knees to my stomach. My chest had never stopped aching since the water the day before and little bits of mucous worked their way up my throat, making me gag.

  The skeleton man rested against the wall and made a small gesture. Two men took my arms and put me in the chair. I was too tired to care about the chair. I almost wished they would bring the water back—maybe they would drown me and this would be over—instead, I just sat there limply watching the skeleton man watch me. I was cornered. I knew I was cornered and that I should be my strongest, that I should call on the panther, but I was too tired, too weak, I’d had no food or water in two days. Sometimes strength is in endurance. I wasn’t dead yet, or unconscious on the floor.

  Something happened behind me. Everyone jerked at the same time, and I half jerked a few seconds later trying to see what had happened. The skeleton man stood straight up abruptly and stared at me intensely. He walked around where I couldn’t see him and forced me to look straight ahead. There was a minute vibration in the floor making my burned foot tingle and a quick breeze behind my head. Then someone was talking in my ear and I pulled away from their hot breath.

  The skeleton man came back in front of me and stared at me with his jaw dropped. He was motionless for a long moment and then he tapped his ear and pointed at me. At last! I wanted to cry. He finally got it. Maybe this would stop now. Maybe he would realize I couldn’t tell him what he wanted to know and they would just leave me alone.

  I shook my head and pleaded with my eyes. He actually hit his forehead with the heel of his hand and paced the room shaking his head. He looked at me and started laughing. He fell back against the wall holding his chest in helpless mirth, shaking his head in disbelief the whole time.

  Suddenly there was motion all around me. Fingers were tapping me making me squeak in surprise, wind was moving with exaggerated motions just out of my line of sight; things were thrown whizzing past my face before I could move out of the way. They were laughing at me, they were all laughing, some of them doubled over. I was pulled up and the chair was kicked away. They surrounded me in a circle moving and taunting me, snapping their fingers in my ears, yelling at me, poking at me from behind, touching me. One man reached from behind and grabbed my breasts making me shriek, which they found uproariously funny.

  The skeleton man made a dismissive gesture with his hand and left still laughing. I was alone with four men and they weren’t laughing anymore. They smiled maliciously and closed in on me. I started turning around in circles looking for an out knowing what they intended now, but there was no place to go.

  Someone reached out and broke the neckline of my gown and pulled it down showing my breasts. One of them came at me and I clawed at his face trying to push him away. The others took my arms and forced me to my knees. I struggled wildly, losing all touch with my own humanity, reaching out to kick, bite, scratch anything I could. It took three of them just to control me. The fourth took his penis out of his pants and shook it at me. I swear I must have growled from the force of the rumbling low in my throat. One of them forced my jaw open and he was inside my mouth.

  I was an animal at that point; I lost all sense of decency and bit. I closed my jaw as hard as I could tasting blood, relishing in the metallic flavor. They panicked around me and started punching me and pulling at my jaw but I refused to let go. The man was pulling my hair and jerking wildly as the door flung open. My teeth met and I twisted my head sharply ripping his flesh from his body. I turned to the door and the other eight men who had rushed in and spit the dismembered penis out at them.

  Several men took the injured man away and others descended on me. I was slammed into the wall several times making my head crack until I was dizzy and disoriented. One of them was on top of me pushing my skirt up. I squeezed my knees together as hard as I could but many hands wrenched them apart and the man was inside me taking my breath away.

  It hurt. I had felt worse pain that day but nothing so acute, nothing so humiliating as this. I felt like I had been impaled by a wooden stake and every thrust brought him deeper until I was sick to my stomach, leaving slivers of pain with tiny cuts as he stretched my delicate organ. I screamed and cried and flailed uselessly as he did his business. I tried to stop them the second time…and the third. By the forth there was nothing left in me and they had already done the worst; I just cried while he defiled me, his tongue leaving smelly sticky trails on my body. After the sixth they were done and left me for dead in the cold dark room lying in pools of blood and seed.

  I rolled over facing the wall and sobbed. There’s not much more to say about that. I cried myself to sleep not even attempting to clean or cover myself. They came back of course. It was a house full of men with not a woman in sight. Throughout the night and next day they all visited me, some twice or more. They usually came in groups. About the nicest thing I have to say about it is none of them tried to put it in my mouth again, though several enjoyed any other natural orifice I had to offer. It still hurt every time. Sometimes I fought, but mostly I prayed for it to be over quickly.

  My coughing grew worse and my body weaker. If I didn’t eat or drink soon I would die, but then I wasn’t sure I wanted to live anyway. I only wanted to tend to Stone’s body and tell Evard about his son. Those were my only reasons for living, after that I would join Bear and the world could forget I ever existed.

  The skeleton man only came once but he was ruthless. He was cruel in a way I can’t even begin to describe. The others just got their jollies and left. The skeleton man…he liked to watch me scream and not everything that went in my body was necessarily from him. I distracted myself by trying to think of a way out. If only I could injure one of them again while he was alone I could maybe steal a weapon and take a hostage….

  Seventeen

  It was late on the third day. I was curled in a ball staring at the wall thinking it was about time for them to start coming again, meal time being a favorite time, but I hadn’t seen any of them for hours. The door opened making a triangle of yellow light from the lanterns on the wall above my head. I saw the shadow of a lone man make his way in. My heart pounded. It never mattered how often they got me, the sight of them coming always filled me with dread; the first one being the worst each time.

  A hand pulled at my shoulder to roll me over and I started swinging my arms hoping I would get lucky this time. Strong hands took either side of my face and held it still enduring all my scratches and attacks. It took me a long time to realize I knew the man in front of me.

  Stone looked at me worriedly and held my face. Was I dreaming? I didn’t care. I flung my arms around his neck and sobbed as hard as I could. He picked me up and held me hard against him. I could feel his heart beat strong in his chest and his breath in my hair. He was alive! Dear God how was he alive? My Stone was alive and he’d come to get me! I cried inconsolable, unable to do anything else. His chest was rumbling and his lips moved softly against my neck.

  He wrapped me in a rough blanket and carried me through the house like a scared child, which wasn’t far from the truth. The main room of the house was littered with bodies. Several were dead, their wide eyes staring blankly into the ever after while blood pooled around them; the rest were in various awkward stages of deep sleep, many with their dinner bowls still in hand. Stone carried me boldly through it and out the door.

  He sat me down on a bale of hay in the stables and handed me a water skin. My hands shook around it and he helped me bring it to my m
outh. I was grateful to find it filled with his special broth and gulped it down eagerly. This time I could feel the heat in my belly slowly spreading throughout my body. I still had no idea what was in it but this was the second time it saved my life.

  ‘When did you eat last?’ he asked me.

  ‘In the wastelands with you.’ He closed his eyes and dropped his head for a second.

  ‘Are you dizzy yet?’

  ‘Very,’ I coughed and wheezed holding my chest.

  ‘Finish that,’ he said putting a dagger in my hand. ‘If you see anything, even an animal, scream.’ He walked deeper into the stables and I watched him pilfer their supplies. If he was alive this whole time, where the hell was he? Why did he leave me there for three days? He walked out of the darkness leading Basil on a fresh lead. Oh. They took his horse. That’s what took him so long. He’d come all this way to find me on foot. Maybe he did love me. He put me on the horse in front of him and we raced for the trees; into the coming night, the sun quickly setting behind us.

  I have no idea how long we rode but we pushed Basil hard. I was weak and disoriented and coughing every five minutes or so. Stone held the reins in one hand and me with the other. We hit a river at one point and he rode us through the water for near a mile before taking us deeper into the trees.

  He finally stopped at a hidden cave and carried me into it, pulling Basil behind. It was small and sort of round. There was a small horse trough at one end, a fire pit in the middle, and the back had several built in shelves and cubby holes including a shelf used for a bed covered in skins and furs and blankets. Here Stone laid me down.

  ‘What happened, what did they do to you?’ he asked reaching for my hand. I shook my head and pulled away. I couldn’t talk about that, not now, maybe not ever. I didn’t want to talk, I didn’t want to be touched. I just didn’t want anything. For the moment it was enough that he was alive, but I couldn’t bring myself to let him touch me. He frowned and pulled his hand back. ‘Are you hurt?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Everywhere,’ I shrugged. He nodded curtly and took off his jerkin and shirt. For a moment I was back in that room and another man was coming for his bit of fun and I panicked. I started shaking and tried to move away from him.

  ‘Oh no, no,’ he took my face again. ‘It’s okay. Look at me Paige. This is Stone. I’m not going to hurt you. Your gown is torn and bloody, we have to get that off of you. I was going to give you my shirt.’

  Oh.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I took a deep breath.

  ‘It’s okay. You’ve been through a lot.’ He paused and watched me for a second. ‘Did they...?’ I stared at him with wide eyes. He swallowed and shook his head. ‘Can you trust me right now?’

  ‘Yes. I think so.’

  ‘I need to see your wounds. I need to dress them before they get infected. I know some of this blood is yours. Can you let me see them, help you wash? I swear to you on my life I will never hurt you.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said but the tears rolled down my face anyway. God help me but I was terrified of him. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, but he was a man. He went to wipe my tears away and I jerked away from him. ‘Just don’t ask me about them,’ I said regretting that I couldn’t take the pain out of his eyes.

  ‘Okay.’ He got up and started building a fire and collecting supplies warming a cup of water to make a tea. ‘Start with this.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Willow bark tea. It will help with the pain and make you sleepy.’ I drank what he offered blindly and waited until he was ready. My head started to swim like I had too much ale and it was hard to keep my eyes open. When he ran his hand over my cheek I didn’t flinch away, lost in a drugged haze I was no longer afraid of him. Part of me wished I could just drink the tea for the rest of my life. I loved him. I didn’t want to be afraid of his touch.

  He pulled me up to a sitting position supporting me with a strong arm. My body felt tingly and weightless. He took a soft folded blanket and told me to hold it across my chest while he stripped my gown to my waist gently. He pushed my hair over my shoulder and carefully inspected the damage on my back. His hands were so soft and gentle while he washed the dirt and blood away and smoothed on salves and ointments. He worked down my arms and sides, across my stomach; his fingers deftly exploring all my skin, finding injuries I didn’t even know I had. He had my ribs bound and patched the bigger wounds. There were surprisingly few that needed any serious work.

  He dressed me in his shirt and laid me down gently. Detached and fuzzy I let him pull off my skirt revealing my legs to the thigh. His hands lingered over the bruises where my legs had been pulled apart. To his credit he didn’t ask, he didn’t say a single word, he simply hung his head and covered his mouth for a long moment. I didn’t think it was possible but he became even gentler as he finished tending my wounds; grimacing disgustedly as he bound my foot.

  He wrapped me up tightly in blankets binding me like a cocoon making me feel like I was in a giant hug (willow bark tea was good stuff). He made a pillow for me and arranged me as comfortably as he could, smoothing my hair and padding sore limbs. He took my hand and I held back; forgetting all about fear, just grateful he was alive and near. He kissed my fingers and ran his hand through my hair.

  ‘I’m all done, I think. Is there anything I haven’t seen?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I admitted sleepily. ‘Half of what you bound I don’t even remember. How bad is it?’

  ‘You have a lot of burns and cuts and bruises. Your ribs are broken and your foot is pretty bad. You won’t be walking for a long time.’

  ‘They made me stand on it,’ I said absently, forgetting I didn’t want to talk.

  ‘What?!’

  ‘They made me stand on it,’ I repeated yawning. ‘That’s really good tea.’

  ‘Do you want to talk?’

  ‘No. I just want to look at you.’ He smiled and stifled a laugh. ‘I can’t believe you’re alive. I was so angry with you because you didn’t haunt me.’

  ‘Haunt you?’

  ‘The dead always haunt me. I still see Rinald every time I close my eyes. He and Bear visited me. I wanted to see you but you never came and I was so angry and this whole time you were alive.’

  ‘Sorry?’ he half smiled unsure of how to interpret my remarks.

  ‘Don’t ever die. I was so terrified you were dead.’

  ‘I’m alive, they only knocked me out, though I almost died when I woke and realized you were gone.’

  ‘You walked all that way.’

  ‘I’d walk further. Paige, I will always come for you.’ I reached out and touched his face.

  ‘I know. I remembered my promise. I didn’t give up,’ my eyes were heavy and I was having a hard time keeping my words coherent. ‘I kept fighting. I unmanned one of them.’

  ‘You what?’

  ‘Bit it right off.’

  ‘Paige. What did they do to you?’

  ‘Lots,’ my eyes were half closed now and I coughed forcefully.

  ‘That cough worries me.’

  ‘It was the water.’

  ‘What water?’

  ‘They bound a towel in my mouth and poured water down my throat. I got water in my lungs.’

  ‘Oh my God.’

  ‘The whipping wasn’t so bad. The hot pokers were the worst.’

  ‘Hot pokers?’ his face was green.

  ‘Red hot,’ I yawned and stretched.

  ‘How did you unman one of them?’ I’m still convinced he knew I didn’t want to talk about that but exploited my drugged condition.

  ‘They forced it in my mouth and I bit until it came off and spit it out at them. I thought they would be scared of me then, but they raped me anyway.’

  ‘Who? Which ones?’ he demanded shaking my shoulders trying to keep me awake.

  ‘All of them.’

  ‘All?’

  ‘Every single one. They took turns.’

  ‘Oh Paige,
oh sweetheart.’

  ‘I’m sleepy, can I go to sleep now?’

  ‘Yes,’ he stroked down my face. ‘Get some sleep.’

  ‘Don’t die.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

  ‘I’m not scared with the tea. Can you hold me for awhile? I don’t want to be scared of you.’ He didn’t say anything, only climbed onto the little bed with me and gathered me in his arms. I fell asleep quickly to his gentle stroking and the rumbling in his chest.

  Eighteen

  I woke fevered and shivering, coughing so hard my entire body spasmed. Stone was right there with tea and small bits of food that he helped me eat. He put his arm under my head to hold me up and I froze staring up at him.

  ‘It’s just me,’ he said. There was such pain in his eyes. ‘You need help sitting up.’ I lurched forward, coughing, and he supported my battered body. Exhausted I settled against him easier but I found myself paying careful attention to where his hands were.

  ‘Where are we?’ I asked.

  ‘This is my hunting lodge. We are sort of on the northeast end of the wastelands.’

  ‘We should leave soon, before they find us.’

  ‘They can’t find this place. It’s well hidden and damn near impossible to overtake. We’re safe and you need to rest. You can’t travel yet.’

  ‘How can we ever be safe?’

  ‘Oh, Paige. I promise.’

  ‘How can you promise that?’

  ‘With my life.’

  ‘How long was I asleep?’

  ‘Only a couple of hours. You should rest more. I’ll be here.’ It was in me to ask why. Why would he stand by me like this, but I only nodded mutely and closed my eyes, still resting on his arm.

  My life moved into an odd juxtaposition. I was ill and still in shock, my body working overtime to heal things even Stone hadn’t found but only suspected. I slept for several days waking for tiny snatches of time only to eat or to be shifted into a better position. I coughed and wheezed and shivered trying to rid my body of the water that had settled in my lungs.