"You two." Billy strode over from the guard's station. "Guard Rigget is satisfied that you've learned your lesson." His face was hard to read. "Ordella, bring me the bucket."
She checked that the waterskin was concealed and handed the bucket to Billy. He leaned in, his blue eyes looking her up and down. Ordella's mouth went dry. He knows. She gulped and focused on keeping the worry from her eyes. He knows what I've found.
"I saw you," he said. Ordella's stomach lurched. The air in the chamber seemed thick and cloying and hard to breathe. Her mind scrambled to form a response.
"I... I didn't ...I mean..."
The guard smiled.
"Ordella, there's no need to fret," he said. "You know me. I won't tell anyone." His eyes appeared kind and trustworthy, but surely even Billy couldn't let this go. It was a bloodcap after all. He'd have to tell someone. To report it to Skerrick.
Billy put his hand on her shoulder.
"A little something extra for the cooking pot never hurt anyone."
Life flowed back into her body. "The rat will be our little secret."
Two
Ordella sat on the side of her cot and traced the outline of the bloodcap toadstool through the folds in her sleeve. Gwenith was lying on the adjacent berth, gently snoring. She'd been dead on her feet and had fallen asleep within moments of arriving back at the Hutch.
Ordella reached out and stroked her grandmother's fine gray hair. The old woman stirred but didn't open her eyes. If only she knew what Ordella had found. How much sweeter her dreams would be. But she'd drifted off before Ordella had had a chance to show her.
She pulled the coarse woolen blanket higher up over Gwenith's body. Perhaps she should wake her? No. Her grandmother would need all the strength she could muster for what lay ahead.
Her hand moved to the bloodcap again. She resisted the urge to take it from her tunic. Someone was bound to notice.
She glanced around the room. Martha and Little Jane were dozing on their bunks. Big Jane and Herwen were sitting on the floor, dangling their tunics over a pair of lit candles, using the heat from the flames to pop the lice that infested the seams. Meg, Sara and some of the others were huddled around the cooking pot, their legs stretched towards the fire. There were too many pairs of eyes. She'd have to act like nothing was there, at least for a few more hours.
She ambled over to the middle of the room. The cooking pot was suspended over the fire pit by an iron chain attached to the metal bars that formed the Hutch's ceiling. Flames lapped at the bottom of the pot and its lumpy brown contents bubbled, filling the Hutch with an earthy smell. Ordella sat down on the bench next to Merisca. She was stirring the stew with a long wooden spoon.
"I've got something for you," Ordella said. She pulled the rat from the pocket in her tunic and held it up by its pink tail.
Merisca smiled.
"It's about time we had some meat for the pot." She took the rat from Ordella's hand and passed her the spoon. "Keep it moving. Don't let it stick." Merisca reached behind the bench and pulled out a chopping board and a small sharp knife from a wooden box. She rested the board on her knees, plonked the rat down and plunged the blade into its stomach.
"How's Gwenith?" Merisca nodded her head in the direction of Ordella's grandmother.
Ordella picked at a loose thread at the hem of her tunic.
"I'm not really sure. Had you asked me a week ago, I'd have told you she was just tired. But now...now I think..." She sighed. "It's like she's finally worn out. A quilt patched one too many times."
She studied the Islander's dark eyes. Could Merisca tell she was holding something back? She'd have to know at some point, of course, but not yet. Her grandmother had to be the first to know.
Merisca skinned the rat, chopped the meat into strips and threw them into the cooking pot. Then she scraped the skin and bones into an open barrel behind her and placed the knife and chopping board on the bench.
"I've got something for Gwenith." Merisca pulled a small square of cloth out of her pocket and handed it to Ordella. The material was thick and waxy and had been folded in half and then half again.
"This will help to sooth the pain in her back."
Ordella opened the package. Inside was a thick smear of an oily brown substance. She raised it to her nose and sniffed. Her face wrinkled, and she spluttered. "What is it? It's foul."
"Medicines are meant to smell unpleasant. That's how you know they're going to work." Merisca laughed. "It's made from some lichen Little Jane found for me in one of the chambers last week." Ordella's eyes flicked to her stained cuff.
"You know she's worried about you, don't you?" Merisca said. She fixed Ordella with a stare, her brown eyes wide.
"Who? Little Jane?"
Merisca shook her head. "No. Gwenith."
Ordella frowned. "Why in all Ellusia is she worried about me?" Ordella pushed a strand of stray hair away from her face and took a breath. "I'm the last person she needs to worry about. I'm fine. I'm coping. I'm content here."
Merisca took Ordella's hand, her dark eyes glinting in the light of the cookfire. "Perhaps that's why she's concerned."
*****
Ordella sat next to her grandmother on her bunk. She picked at the stew in her bowl, moving it from side to side with her spoon. Now that she'd eaten the bits of meat, Ordella had lost her appetite. She forced herself to gulp down what remained, then placed her empty bowl on the bed beside her and turned to her grandmother. Gwenith held her bowl in her lap, the food untouched.
"You must eat something, Grandmother. You've got to keep your strength up."
Gwenith looked at her. The hint of a smile brushed her lips and she drew a shaky spoonful of stew to her mouth. Ordella nodded and gestured with her finger for the woman to keep going.
Ordella reached into her pocket and drew out the fold of ointment.
"Merisca says this will help ease the pain in your back." She unwrapped the cloth.
"She's a good one that girl. Just like you, my dear. Always looking out for me."
Ordella refolded the cloth and placed it on the bed next to her bowl. "She says you should rub it on before you go to sleep."
"Thank you, Della," Gwenith said. She took another mouthful of stew, chewed methodically and then swallowed. "Was that a piece of meat I just ate?" She dipped her spoon back into the bowl. "I'm guessing we have you to thank for that."
Ordella nodded. "I managed to get one by the sacks in the corner. But we've got Billy to thank, too. He saw me with it, but he let me keep it anyway."
Her grandmother placed the stew bowl down beside her. "Be careful of that one," she said. "He might be friendly, and he's definitely taken a shine to you, but he's still one of them."
"Billy's nothing like the others." Ordella stared at her grandmother. "He managed to find a way to get you some water, didn't he?"
Gwenith nodded. "That's certainly true. And don't think I didn't appreciate it. But a kind act here or there doesn't change what he is."
Ordella was about to speak, but her grandmother silenced her with a raised finger.
"A rat and a skin of water is not ample compensation for what they've taken from us and for what they continue to deny us." Gwenith's expression became stern. "He might not be as callous as Rigget, or as cruel as Skerrick, but he's still one of them. He is the master and we are his slaves. Don't ever forget that."
Ordella opened her mouth to respond, but instead, she just nodded. Billy was different from the other guards. She could see it even if her grandmother couldn't. She touched her sleeve. Her discovery of the bloodcap made conversations like this irrelevant. The guards, the Hutch and everything about their lives here would soon be in the past. In the filth of the Warren's floor, she'd found their miracle.
*****
Ordella lay on her bunk. She closed her eyes and focused on the sounds around her. On the cot next to her, Gwenith was definitely asleep, her breathing shallow but regular. Blankets rustled from the far end of the Hutch. Pr
obably Big Jane tossing and turning. She was often restless but always went straight back to sleep again.
In the middle of the room, the cook fire hissed as its last embers burnt themselves out.
Ordella held her breath and waited a few moments longer. No footsteps. No muffled voices. It was safe. None of the others were awake.
She reached behind her for the layer of hide that covered the metal bars of the Hutch's outer wall. Just above her head was a small section that she'd worked loose over the years. Her fingers quickly found the correct position, and, with a little persuasion, the material shifted to allow a few rays of light from the lanterns in the Barn to seep into the Hutch, illuminating Ordella's cot, but not much more. She paused. The light never normally woke anyone, but she wasn't taking any chances.
Satisfied that the other women were still asleep, Ordella unrolled her stiff sap-stained left sleeve and plucked out the bloodcap by its stem. She moved it into the light. Its shiny white domed cap had lost some of its luster, and was more droopy than she was expecting, but it was still intact.
She turned it upside down and ran her finger over the face of the broken stalk. It was crusty, like a grazed knee. Ordella cupped the bloodcap in her left hand. It weighed almost nothing, but surely it would be enough for both of them. It had to be.
Ordella closed the fingers of her left hand into a loose fist around the mushroom. With her other hand, she reached over to her grandmother's cot and touched the old woman on the shoulder. Gwenith stirred, but she didn't wake up. Ordella tried again, this time giving her a more forceful shove. Her grandmother rolled towards her.
"Wake up, Grandmother. I've got a surprise for you."
Gwenith blinked a few times then rubbed her eyes. She shuffled across the bed and sat on the edge.
"What is it, Ordella? Is everything alright?"
Ordella nodded, slipped off her own bunk and crouched down on the floor in the gap between their cots.
She took a deep breath, stretched out her left hand, and uncurled her fingers. Gwenith's eyes widened, and a smile spread across her wrinkled face. She turned to Ordella, more alive than she'd seemed in days.
"A bloodcap. The Slave's Gamble. You found one."
Ordella gripped the mushroom by the stalk. "It looks small. I hope it will be enough for both of us."
Her grandmother took the mushroom and held it to the light. She turned it in her fingers.
"It is a small one, but there's definitely enough flesh on it for two."
She passed the bloodcap back to Ordella and sighed. "Unfortunately, my dear, I will not be one of them."
Ordella's heart pounded in her chest, and an ache started to rise in the back of her throat.
"Of course you'll come with me." She struggled to keep her voice to a whisper. "We came in here together, and we're going to leave together."
Gwenith reached out for her, but Ordella shrugged off the embrace.
"Listen to me." Her grandmother's voice was gentle but firm. "I'm too old, and I'm too frail. Even if by some miracle I woke up on the other side, my body would be even weaker than it is now. I'd be a burden to you. A burden that would almost certainly cost you your freedom." Her grandmother leaned towards her. "I will not jeopardize your chance to escape."
Ordella looked away. Tears welled in her eyes. How could she have been so stupid? Her grandmother was right. Of course, the bloodcap's poison would be too much for her aging body to withstand. Ordella swallowed and turned back to her grandmother.
"Well if you can't go, then neither will I. I'm not going to leave you in here on your own." She reached for her grandmother's hand. "Who will look after you if I'm gone? You need me." Ordella stifled a sob. "And I need you. You're all I've got. I'm never going to leave you." She sniffed and turned away.
A few seconds passed before her grandmother responded.
"I love you, Della." Her voice was measured and calm. "You know that, don't you?" Ordella nodded. "In your fifteen years, you've overcome more suffering than most will endure in their entire lifetime. You're strong, you're tough and you've made the best of what the world has given you. I admire you for that." She paused and touched Ordella on her shoulders. "But you don't belong in a place like this." She gestured to the iron bars. "You shouldn't be forced to live in a cage and made to work your fingers to the bone. Finding the bloodcap is an opportunity for you to start again, to live the life everyone in here can only dream of. You owe it to all of us to grasp this chance with both hands. To make good your escape. And to do that, as hard as it may seem, you must have the courage to leave me here."
Ordella shook her head. Letting her grandmother fend for herself just wasn't an option.
"I can't do it." She wiped the tears from her eyes. "My place is here, by your side. That's how it's always been. It's all I know."
"All things must change." Her grandmother's hand stroked Ordella’s hair, just as she used to when Ordella was a little girl. "Change is inevitable." Gwenith squeezed her Ordella’s shoulder. "Besides, your father would never forgive me if he knew you'd been given a chance to escape but had stayed because of me."
Ordella pushed against her grandmother's arms. She shook her head. Not this again. Not now.
"For the last time, my father isn't alive." Her voice had grown louder than a whisper. Sara mumbled something incoherent from the bunk to Ordella's left, then rolled over and settled again. Ordella waited a moment longer.
"You read the letter from Gilmaria just as I did. Father left us, and now he's dead." Ordella sniffed. "I don't care what a dead man would have thought about my decision."
Her grandmother's head sagged, her chin resting against her chest. Ordella stood up and slumped onto her own bed, the bloodcap still clasped in her hand. "I'm not leaving you and that's all there is to it."
Her grandmother took a deep breath and moved down her bed.
"It's sometimes easier for us to embrace the familiar, even if it's far from perfect, than it is for us to brave the unknown." She sighed. "When you've been dealt a poor hand, sometimes the only option is to discard all of the cards and reach again for the deck. The bloodcap is your chance to do just that, Ordella. Make sure you are not using me as an excuse. Sometimes you have to be prepared to risk it all. You must take the Slave's Gamble."
Three
Ordella stood on tiptoes and looked down the line. Her grandmother was near the front, standing between Meg and Herwen. Ordella smiled. Gwenith had been up early this morning, and she was acting as if last night's conversation hadn't happened at all. She was brighter and was moving with more purpose. Merisca's poultice seemed to have been just what she needed.
Riggett closed his ledger, picked it up and held it under his arm. He raised a whistle to his lips and blew. A shrill blast sounded, and the women faced forwards then stood completely still. On his second whistle, they followed the guard onto the lift.
The stout open-topped box swayed as the women stepped into it like herded sheep. The wooden box began to fill, and the iron chains suspending it over the chamber creaked. Ordella shuddered. She'd never get used to traveling this way.
She took a breath and stepped from the stone landing platform onto the box's planked floor. Squeezing past Martha and Little Jane, she stood next to her grandmother, who was leaning over the box's side, staring down at the chamber's tiled floor far below. Ordella tugged her grandmother's tunic. Gwenith turned and placed her hand on her granddaughter's shoulder. Ordella leaned back against the worn timber and anchored her feet for the descent.
Riggett blew his whistle again. Ordella turned towards him. What was this about? Usually, the third whistle sounded after they'd set down on the chamber floor. She focused her attention on the guard. He stood by the water barrels in the far right corner of the box. Billy was by his side, sitting on a stack of crates.
"I have an announcement." Riggett placed his whistle on top of his ledger, his cruel eyes shining. "We are honored. Lord Skerrick will be paying us a visit today. Now, I'm
sure I don't need to remind you that Lord Skerrick has very high standards. And"—he paused, running his ink-stained hands through his greasy hair—"I also won't need to remind you how Lord Skerrick deals with those who aren't pulling their weight."
Ordella winced. If her grandmother's body gave out on her today, there'd be no way of saving her from Skerrick's whip. She bit her lip, trying to suppress images of the mess he'd made of Abney's back, her flesh flayed down to the bone.
Ordella stole a glance at her grandmother. Gwenith was staring straight ahead, her face emotionless. Perhaps if Skerrick arrived soon, she'd still be keeping up.
The box lurched. Ordella grabbed the side, pushing the heels of her feet down hard against the platform's deck. It wobbled again, before lumbering down into the chamber, its chains screeching as they ran over the pulley wheels. She'd never heard of the chain links giving way, but that didn't mean they never would.
She took a couple of deep breaths and concentrated on the massive stone blocks of the chamber wall. Her stomach heaved, and she closed her eyes. Nearly there.
The box's deck jarred against the tiled floor. Ordella steadied herself and opened her eyes. The chamber was smaller than the one they'd worked in yesterday, but it seemed much more spacious. It had no roof, and only the two narrow, old-fashioned viewing platforms overhanging its high walls stopped it from being completely open to the late-summer sky above. Ordella tilted her head back. The clouds crept across the blue, and even at the base of the walls, a trace of breeze tickled her face.
"Everyone out!" Billy opened the door and hooked it in place. "You know the drill."
They filed out in silence. Ordella followed her grandmother, and they took their place in the line, standing shoulder to shoulder with the other women, facing Billy with the platform behind them.
"Out of my way!" With book in hand, Riggett pushed his way through the line and stood next to Billy. He glared at the women in turn. Billy looked at his fellow guard, the merest hint of a smile turning the corners of his mouth. Ordella suppressed a grin of her own. Riggett must've really hated working with Billy. They had the same rank, but Riggett would never be his equal, and he knew it.
Slave's Gamble Page 2