Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Biography
The Fabric Of Reality
Benjamin Kelly
Breathless Press
Calgary, Alberta
www.breathlesspress.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
The Fabric Of Reality
Copyright © 2013 Benjamin Kelly
ISBN: 978-1-77101-997-2
Cover Artist: Mina Carter
Editor: Haleigh Rucinski
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
Breathless Press
www.breathlesspress.com
Chapter One
Baron Volga pawed Alesia in a way no gentleman would dare touch a lady before wedding her. She jerked away, backing into her mistress, as he groped her delicate breasts. Hateful snickers of young girls came from somewhere out of sight. They were obviously enjoying the spectacle of Alesia’s humiliation. She hoped when their time came they’d regret standing idly by and allowing this attack to happen without a single word of protest. The mistress grabbed Alesia’s arms to keep her from bolting and shoved her back toward the baron. Tobacco-stained teeth showed through his devious grin when he chuckled. She wrenched herself free from her mistress’s grasp, trying desperately to flee, but the baron was ready and caught her before she could run. She winced as he clasped her buttocks as firmly as a vice. The ravenous lust in his eyes was unmistakable.
Alesia thrust her hands toward his face, fingers poised to rid him of his sight, but the mistress clasped Alesia’s wrists an instant before she could dig in her nails. He yanked her to him by her tortured hip, planted his face against the side of her neck, and inhaled deeply. A low moan rumbled in his throat, sending a shiver crawling down Alesia’s spine. He dragged his tongue from her shoulder to her ear, leaving behind a trail of sticky saliva. The sickening smell of his putrid breath wafted up from the slimy deposit, turning her stomach. She stiffened her body, pulling away with all of her strength, but he held on even tighter, laughing with delight. The more she resisted, the rougher he became.
He thrust his hand under her dress and pressed his short, stubby fingers firmly against her sensitive flesh, the thin fabric of her drawers the only barrier between them. She bucked and twisted, trying to get loose before he could violate her further. He countered her every evasive movement with the ease of a man who had extensive experience taking women against their will.
A few strands of long oily, hair swung down from his balding head, falling across his face during their struggle. She fought to get a hand free, intent on ripping the greasy locks from his scalp, to no avail. Between the firm grasp of her wicked mistress and that of Baron Volga, she had no hope of escape. Alesia shuddered as the tears she had been holding began to spill. The baron withdrew his hand from her crotch, looking excessively pleased with himself. He pressed his fingers to his nose and inhaled deeply, grunting his approval.
As if signaling to Alesia that he thought no more of her than an animal, he quickly delved his fingers into her mouth, rolling her lips back, exposing her gums. She snapped her teeth down hard, but the baron jerked his hand away just in time to keep from losing a digit.
Baron Volga released Alesia’s hip and brushed his hair back into place. The mistress cleared her throat, extending a hand toward him. He plopped two gold coins into her palm, turned on his heel, and waddled out the door of the orphanage. The old woman grinned joyfully and hurried off, clutching her loot.
A wave of nausea rolled through Alesia’s trembling body. The room swam before her eyes. Darkness encroached on her vision from all around, and the floor rose up to meet her. The mocking giggles of her peers echoed in her pounding head. Alesia gazed up at the smiling faces staring down at her from all sides. Her cheeks burned red hot. The baron’s attack would have been bad enough with no witnesses to taunt her, but they had seen everything and would, no doubt, make her relive it over and over for the time she remained with them. All at once they dragged her into a chair, then left, with the fading noise of their unintelligible chatter trailing behind them.
Her heart sank, spiraling uncontrollably into a dark abyss. In a few short days, she would be married to a man old enough to be her father, condemned to years of servitude. Her life would consist of endless days enduring his harsh temperament, catering to his every whim, and endless nights of breathing his foul breath while being violated in unthinkable ways.
All the young gentlemen of her village had passed her by for a chance to court the beautiful daughters from wealthy families. None wanted a homely, penniless orphan girl who owed her mistress, the caretaker of the orphanage, far more than she could ever hope to repay. The amount was a mere pittance to the rich old baron. As much as she wanted to believe that things would turn out differently for her, she had always feared that she’d be bought by one of the barons, just like the orphan girls who came of age before her. The few who escaped the horrible fate were those brave enough to walk the only other path, the one that led to an early grave.
She would never marry Baron Volga, regardless of the down payment he had just made toward her debt. He’d make her produce babies until she had a son. As far as the baron was concerned, a woman’s only value was her ability to give him a boy. When she was no longer useful to him, he’d cast her aside along with her daughters, as he had done so many before. A quick death was far preferable to suffering indefinitely at the hand of the heartless brute.
Alesia forced herself to stand on wobbly legs, then bolted out the door in search of fresh air. An old man astride an ancient-looking horse tipped his hat to her as he clopped slowly down the cobblestone street. People bustled busily about, pushing carts of goods, carrying jugs of wine, haggling with the various bread and vegetable vendors, all of them living perfectly ordinary lives in their sprawling village. A young boy darted across the street and ran to Alesia. He held up an apple and waited for her to take it.
She shook her head, not certain she’d be able to remain on her feet. “I’m sorry, but I have no money.”
He thrust the apple toward her. “Father said to give you this.”
Alesia took the apple and bit into it, trying not to let on that anything was wrong. “Thank you, it’s quite delicious. The apple crop came in early this year.”
“It’s because of the mild winter and warm spring we had.” He turned to go, but hesitated.
Alesia cleared her throat. “Be careful crossing the street.”
He spun back around and rolled his eyes at her. “Father already told me. Oh, he said for me to tell you sorry about the baron.” With that, he ran back the way he had come.
Baron Volga had obviously wasted no time spreading the news of their wedding. Alesia took another bite of her apple and gazed at the trees rising up a gentle slope leading away from the village. An imposing gray stone castle stood in the distance, high atop a hill overlooking the forest. Alesia had always been drawn to the structure, as if someone there were calling to her, but she had never dared to visit. The Council of Village Elders forbade anyone from trespassing on the grounds of the ancient fortress. The beckoning had grown stronger in the last few years. When she turned sixteen, a young man cloaked in fog began coming to
her in dreams and sometimes in waking visions. In the back of her mind, she suspected that he lived in the castle and someday he would come riding into the village on a white stallion, wearing a suit of shining armor to rescue her from the horrible fate she had always known awaited her.
Whether the fog-shrouded man lived there or not, a possible solution to her problem lay up on that hill. Legends told of the curious entering the ancient castle and the spirits that lurked within whisking them away to the netherworld where they existed, never to return. She had only to travel there and she’d never be seen again.
A feeble old man with a fancy wooden cane hobbled from the building next door and shot Alesia a curious glance. She curtsied and grinned at him. “Councilman Bolivar. Having a pleasant day?”
He made his way slowly toward her. “Someone introduced a petition to move this orphanage away from the council building. They feel it would be best if you girls were housed in the southern district with the rest of the orphans. We’ll be voting on it, next session. You and sisters may be moving.”
Alesia stared at him in disbelief. “This orphanage has always been here. Why would you want to move it?”
He shook his head. “Oh, not I, but some of the council members feel that the little ones are too noisy playing out back while we’re holding meetings.”
“Well, it’s of no consequence to me. I shan’t be living here much longer. I’ve come of age, and Baron Volga has spoken for me.”
The old man grunted as disapproval spread across his face. “The council gave Baron Volga approval to purchase the debt of an orphan girl. I’m sorry it was you.” He turned and followed Alesia’s gaze to the castle. “Intriguing, isn’t it? It’s been there since the dawn of time, and it’ll be there long after we all turn to dust.”
Alesia lowered her voice. “Have you ever been there?”
“Oh, heavens, no. So many have gone there and been lost, only a fool would get anywhere near that accursed place.”
She had heard the rumors repeated by children, but no one with the authority of a councilman had ever confirmed that they were true. “So, you believe the stories of castle spirits?”
“All I know for certain is that good men have entered that place and never come out. There are rumors, seldom repeated, of an expedition returning, but that was long before my time. If there ever were factual accounts from those explorers, they were lost in the cleansing fires during the Great Epidemic.”
Alesia had been taught all her life that a girl shouldn’t question her elders, but she was of age now. Not merely a girl but a full-grown woman and she wanted answers to questions that no one was willing to discuss. “Since I have your ear, may I ask you something?”
“Of course, young lady, the council is here to serve the people, even women.”
Alesia huffed and sneered at him, wondering if he thought her to be inferior because she was a woman. “Why are the girls of the orphanage treated as property? All of our history wasn’t lost. I know this practice has not always been permissible.”
The old man sighed, still gazing into the distance. “Have you ever wondered why there is no orphanage for boys?”
“I am keenly aware that there are far more girls than boys.”
Several passersby slowed, glancing in their direction.
“Yes, I suppose you would be. Come—come inside. This is not a conversation for the street.” He escorted her inside the council meeting hall.
The hairs on Alesia’s arms suddenly stood on end. Her gaze was immediately drawn to a small, dark display case sitting on the top of a high shelf in the back of the room. A gentle thrumming sensation tapped away at her body, similar to the vibrations of music, but with no sound. For an instant, a vision of the fog-shrouded man appeared in front of her, but it disappeared as soon as the councilman began speaking.
“We’re dying, Alesia, the whole village.”
She closed her eyes for a moment to clear her head. Obviously, the old man was oblivious to her vision. The thrumming continued to grow in intensity. She could feel a presence reaching out to her. Her dream hero was beckoning for her to join him, stronger than he ever had.
The call was so overpowering she could barely resist running out the door and heading straight for the castle. “Even if the village is dying, that’s no excuse for mistreating us. We’re human beings, with all the same rights as men.”
Councilman Bolivar narrowed his eyes. The pale, mottled skin of his forehead folded into deep trenches, resembling a freshly plowed field. “Of course you are, but the council has decided that our survival depends on the birthrate of male babies greatly increasing. Some have proposed that all men be made to take multiple wives, and it may come to that. But while we are able, we must maintain a civilized society. Every household cannot be turned into a breeding farm. Our morals would decay until we were nothing more than savages.”
“So, to maintain a civilized society, you have decided to sacrifice those you feel are worthless?”
The old man’s face slowly reddened. He hardened his tone. “Young men generally won’t choose orphan girls of their own accord. There are too many wealthy families with daughters for them to choose from. That means the hordes of orphan girls must get mated to older bachelors who haven’t passed beyond their reproductive years. We can’t take the chance of so many women remaining childless because of a lack of suitable husbands. Any one of you may produce sons. I know it’s a terrible burden, but it must be done for the good of us all.”
Alesia planted her fists on her hips, glaring at the old man. “These older men are bachelors because they discard their wives like refuse in order to take young brides. They know society will condone their reprehensible behavior because of our faltering population growth. There is nothing civilized about the treatment of those cast-off women or us orphans. It’s barbaric, and the fact that the council condones it makes you all barbarians. If we’re truly dying as a people, we should die with dignity.”
“Out—out you go!” He hustled her out the door and locked it behind them. Councilman Bolivar turned up his nose and hobbled away, his cane clicking on the cobblestone every time he touched it down.
The thrumming sensation diminished greatly, but didn’t disappear completely. She found herself staring at the castle again. If you’re really up there, why haven’t you come for me? You should have been here before the baron came calling. You’re not coming to rescue me, are you? I’m mad for ever believing that you would.
Alesia reentered the orphanage. Her mistress sat at the kitchen table, sipping tea, and spoke as she passed, but Alesia didn’t answer. The old woman wouldn’t dare punish her now and risk damaging the baron’s newly acquired property. She strutted to her bed, head held high, ignoring the glances of the younger girls.
Bonnie shot Alesia a sneer and strolled over to where she stood. “They all passed you by, didn’t they? Even Marco. That’s why you refused to speak to me last night. Got knocked down a notch, didn’t you?”
Alesia gave Bonnie a sideways glance. The cruel tone in her voice cut to the bone, but Alesia refused to be drawn into a useless argument. Bonnie was merely using Alesia’s misfortune to voice her own frustration. She’d be facing the same hopeless situation in another year. That horrible fate awaited them all.
“You’re always so arrogant, Alesia. What makes you think you’re better than the rest of us? I can only imagine the humiliation you faced at the ball, all dressed up in your shabby clothes, while the young bachelors turned up their noses at you and made their choices among beautiful, rich girls. I told you Marco couldn’t afford to purchase your debt. The salary of guard is barely enough for two people to live. Why did you waste your time trying to convince him to take you for his wife anyway? The stories of our salvation you’ve always told us are not true, are they? You knew we’d suffer the same fate as all the rest, didn’t you?”
Alesia pretended to ignore Bonnie, even as a knot began forming in her chest. It had become painfully obvious that h
er dreams and visions were a product of her own desperation. She needed to get away from everyone to contemplate her fate. The mistress had been loaning her out to help with weeding the Smith’s crops, and the baron had made her late. The hook where her work clothes should have been hanging was empty. She didn’t want to tend the fields in her good dress, but the alternative meant asking who had taken her clothes, which would inevitably lead to a fight, delaying her further. She glanced out the window and spotted some of the younger girls doing the wash and understood. Since she was all but bought by the baron, the mistress couldn’t make her work any longer. They had probably assumed that she wouldn’t go. She put on her best bonnet, the one she reserved for special occasions, and started toward the door, but turned back. She had only one possession that was of any value to her, a hand mirror said to have belonged to her mother. Alesia grabbed it up and stuck it into the pocket of her apron. The other girls weren’t thieves, but she had a feeling that if she left it, she’d never see it again.
Marco hadn’t even given her a glance at the ball. She had completely misjudged him. All the flirting and friendly conversations they had engaged in meant nothing. It’s true that paying off her debt would have been a struggle on a guard’s salary, but she could have found work and helped. Rehashing the events in her head wouldn’t change things. It was all done now, and there was no going back.
Bonnie stepped directly into Alesia’s path, blocking her exit, and poked her shoulder with an index finger. “Where’s your hero now? The one who will carry you away to live a life of love and happiness? You’re nothing but a foolish dreamer, making up your fantasy tales, raising our hopes.” Bonnie poked Alesia’s shoulder again, a little harder this time. “You said he was real. You said he would come for you before your debt was sold. You said there’d be heroes for all of us. You’re a liar, and you’ll suffer a life of loneliness, humiliation, and heartbreak, just like the rest of us. There are no heroes for the likes of us. We’re just worthless lumps of flesh, more mouths for society to feed, and no man could ever love us. Have you finally accepted that?” Bonnie poked Alesia a third time.
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