Slave's Gamble

by Jay Stonesmith

  With trembling fingers, Ordella placed it into the secret pocket in her tunic. Merisca looked her in the eye. "It will need mixing with some water, so I suggest you keep your stew bowl after you've eaten. Wipe it out and half fill it with water from the barrel. Then mix in the powder and swallow it down. All of it."

  Ordella nodded. "How quickly will it work?"

  "Almost straight away." Merisca gestured to Ordella's bunk. "So you must be in bed with your blanket drawn when you drink it. It's hard to say exactly what you'll feel because it doesn't affect everyone in the same way, but in a short while your body will go limp, and then everything will turn to black."

  "Does it hurt?" Ordella shuffled her bare feet closer to the fire.

  "No, it will feel strange, but it won't hurt. If all goes well, your body will slow down until you are in the deepest sleep imaginable. Your heart will beat as quiet as fairy drums and your breath will be the merest whisper. To the untrained eye, you will appear to be dead."

  "And if all doesn't go well?"

  Merisca snorted.

  "You won't appear to be dead, you really will be." She tucked a strand of curly hair back into her braid. "But let's not focus on that. Most people aren't killed by the poison." She shook her head. "No, surviving the bloodcap's poison isn't the biggest challenge. Many have taken the Slave's Gamble and lost because they failed to deceive the guards and never made it outside the Warren."

  Merisca smiled. "With that we have two things stacked in our favor." She held up a finger on her right hand. "First, because nobody has seen a bloodcap in the Warren for years, the guards shouldn't suspect anything. They won't be experienced enough to distinguish between us and real corpses." She raised a second finger. "We also have this."

  She reached behind the bench and brought out two small pots containing a thick paste, the color of ash and the consistency of overcooked porridge. An unpleasant odor, acrid like burning hair, filled Ordella's nostrils. She screwed up her nose and coughed.

  "You must rub it onto your face, arms and chest." Merisca passed a pot to Ordella. "Do it before you take the bloodcap. It will be very painful and it will make your skin blister and welt."

  Ordella gulped. "And why must we do this?"

  "Because it will make it look like we've caught the blood plague. The guards won't want to examine our bodies too closely for fear of catching it, and they'll want to dispose of us quickly. Hopefully, they'll dump us on the other side of the walls."

  "And when we wake up?" Ordella shifted on the bench. "What will that feel like?"

  "This is the part of the Slave's Gamble that we can't affect. Some who take the bloodcap can never be awakened from their slumber and they stay asleep for the rest of their days. Hopefully, we are among the lucky ones. After you've come round, it may take time for sensation to return to your limbs. Do not be alarmed if you can't move your arms or legs straight away. It usually passes. But, it is different for everyone, so it's hard to be too specific." She smiled. "We're just going to have to hope that our luck holds."

  Ordella pocketed the pot and clutched Merisca's hands. The Islander's curly hair looked wild in the firelight, yet her face was calm and resolute. If Ordella couldn't take the Slave's Gamble with her grandmother, Merisca was the next best choice.

  Five

  Under her tattered blanket, Ordella turned the pot of black ointment in her hands and reviewed Merisca's instructions. The familiar sounds of the Hutch at night filled the darkness. By dawn, whatever happened, this would all be in her past.

  She pictured the faces of the women sleeping in their cots. Women she'd shared her life with for the last six years. Meg and the two Janes, who'd been with her from the start, Martha, Winn, Herwen and Sara, and poor Abney.

  She drew back her sheet and lifted the cage's covering at the end of her bed. A faint sliver of light filtered through the gap, puncturing the gloom. She sniffed the contents of the pot and grimaced. It smelt even worse than before.

  Ordella took a deep breath. She couldn't put it off any longer. Holding the pot in her left hand, she scooped out a small dollop of the foul black concoction and slathered it onto her cheeks. Her skin tingled a bit, but it didn't hurt. She layered the rest of the mixture onto her arms, legs, and chest. It reeked like the charred scrapings from the bottom of a cooking pot, but it wasn't painful at all. Just strange. Warming. Perhaps Merisca had made a mistake when she'd prepared it?

  Ordella lay still on her bunk and waited. Nothing.

  She peered over to the far side of the room, beyond the fire pit, but she couldn't make out Merisca's bunk in the shadows. Was she having the same problem?

  Without warning, a burning pain erupted across her face, as if someone had thrown a cup of boiling water onto her skin then rubbed at it with a scrubbing brush dipped in vinegar. She gritted her teeth and stifled a cry. The agony spread to her chest and arms.

  Soon her whole body, even those parts that weren't smothered with the mixture, were on fire. Her breaths came in ragged gulps. She leaped up.

  The bowl she'd half-filled with water after dinner was stowed at the foot of her bed. She grasped it with both hands. A jolt of searing pain daggered down her arms. She winced but somehow managed to keep hold of it.

  Ordella bit her lip and perched the bowl on her mattress. From the concealed pocket in her tunic, she brought out the square of parchment Merisca had given her that afternoon. She unfolded it and tipped the powder into the water. She stirred it with her finger. The water turned milk-white. Ordella wiped her finger dry on her tunic and tossed the parchment under her bunk.

  This was it. She held the bowl in her left hand, slipped back into bed and pulled the blanket over her with her right. The coarse fabric rubbed against her throbbing skin. She breathed in. One way or another the pain would soon be over. She lifted her head up and raised the bowl to her lips. There was no going back now.

  She could see her grandmother lying on the Warren's cold tiles, the life in her brown eyes fading. I will not allow your death to be in vain, Grandmother.

  Ordella tilted the bowl and dribbled the thick, chalky liquid into her mouth. She gagged but forced herself to swallow. An irony taste set her teeth on edge. She drank deeper. Her tongue started to tingle and seemed to grow too large for her mouth. She tipped the bowl higher and poured out the last few drops, then she placed the bowl on the floor and flicked it under her bed. It scraped across the tiles and came to rest somewhere beneath her.

  There was nothing more to do. Ordella laid her head back and waited. Her arms and legs, still smarting, were growing heavier by the moment, as if a great weight was pressing down on them, pushing them towards the floor. It must be working. Her breathing slowed and the room got darker and darker. Her eyelids drooped shut, then everything went dark.

  *****

  Ordella blinked. Some sort of barrier had been placed in front of her eyes, splintering her view of the cloudless sky above.

  This wasn't the Warren, that much was certain. But where was she?

  She blinked again and tried to reach up to wipe her eyes. Her arms didn't move. Nothing. She tried a second time, then a third. Not even a twitch. Her limbs simply weren't responding.

  Ordella's heart beat faster, and she forced herself to take long, deep breaths. She bit her lip, resisting the urge to scream. She had to stay calm. Merisca had warned her this might happen.

  A familiar musty smell filled her nostrils, and dust tickled the back of her throat. She spluttered and coughed. Sackcloth. So that's what was obscuring her vision. Ordella focused on the material in front of her. The rough fibers rubbed against the blistered skin on her face, but the sensation felt distant and unreal, as if it were happening to her in a dream.

  Ordella again attempted to move her arms, but they still weren't under her control. Neither were her legs, nor her feet. She concentrated on her neck and pictured turning her head to the left. Her head tilted a fraction. She smiled. It was a start.

  Through the diamond-shaped ga
ps in the cloth's weave, Ordella stared at the patches of blue. The occasional bird, soaring high in the sky, drifted into her field of vision, then flitted away. A warm breeze ruffled the material across her face. She'd just have to be patient. There was nothing to do but stay quiet and wait for the bloodcap's poison to wear off.

  What was that? Voices to her left. She screamed out in her mind, willing her body to get up. But her lifeless limbs didn't respond. The noises still seemed a long way off, but they were definitely getting louder. The people were heading in her direction. Perhaps it was Merisca calling for her? She strained her ears. No. There were two voices, both deeper than her friend's, and the sound of something else.

  Wheels trundling?

  It got louder. They were close now, two men by their tone.

  "There's a lot today, Gav. A proper cart full," the deeper voice said.

  "Aye. That there is," Gav replied.

  Something loomed in front of her, blocking the light.

  "Let's get these last two loaded and we can be on our way."

  Ordella's head lurched forward and light streamed back in through the cloth. Her stomach reeled as if she'd been turned upside down. Air rushed past her cheek, and the back of her head banged against something soft. Her legs and arms were still numb, but the impact of the landing dimly registered in her back.

  Ordella was in the same position she'd been in moments before, lying on her back with the sky above her, but she wasn't in the same place. Something lumpy now pressed against her spine. She tried to adjust her position, but her arms and legs still wouldn't obey her instructions. She turned her head ever so slightly, then stopped. The men had fallen silent. Surely they hadn't noticed.

  "One, two, three!" It was the man with the deeper voice. The other man, Gav, grunted, and something large and heavy landed next to her. She peered at it through the cloth. It was a full sack, trussed with twine at one end. She swallowed and bit her lip. Her heart beat faster in her chest. It was a body, bagged up in sackcloth just as she was. She arched her back. There were probably corpses beneath her too, maybe a whole pile of them.

  Something heavy slammed behind her. Then metal clanked against metal.

  "If the weather holds we should be at Goyne's Bridge by nightfall. We'll get the camp set up, and then I've got a little treat for us." The man with the deep voice laughed.

  "What's that then, Clem?" Gav said.

  "Got a whole cask of Brewer's Gold. Finest ale this side of the Laven. Hope you're wearing your drinking boots."

  "You know me. I've always got a thirst."

  "Let's get this cart moving then. The sooner we're off, the sooner we're stopping."

  Ordella was lurched forward, then her body was jostled from side to side. Without hands to steady herself, she rolled to her right. Her face pressed against the other sack. A faint sickly-sweet aroma crept through the cloth. Ordella gagged and turned her head away.

  She closed her eyes and tried to imagine she was stretched out on her bunk back in the Hutch. Instead, her mind filled with images of her grandmother, her crumpled body lying on the Warren's cold floor. Ordella shuddered. Was her grandmother's corpse on the cart, too? And Merisca. What had happened to her?

  Sunlight shone through the sackcloth, warming Ordella's face. The cart's rhythmical movements swayed her gently to and fro, and her eyelids started to shut. She snapped them open. Sleep wasn't an option. She had to stay awake. Ordella blinked. If only she could rub the tiredness from her eyes, but she still couldn't persuade her arms to move from her side. The cart lumbered on. Her eyelids were heavy. Too heavy. Ordella blinked again, but she couldn't resist any longer. She closed her eyes and allowed sleep to take her.

  Six

  The cart was no longer moving. Ordella spat out some sackcloth hairs and moistened her lips with her tongue. Something was different about her body. She stretched her spine and shifted her legs into a more comfortable position. Ordella grinned. She moved them again. Not quite back to normal, but at least they were responding. She reached up to her face, testing the movement in her arms. She rubbed her eyes. Her fingers were clumsy, but they too seemed to be working.

  It was nearly dark now, and the sky was choked with heavy clouds. Ordella breathed in. The moist air was tinged with the smell of earth and rotting leaves. Somewhere off to her right a bird cawed, and, away to her left, an orangey light flickered, taking the edge off the gloom. A campfire perhaps?

  Ordella kept her breathing quiet. Muffled voices were coming from the direction of the light, but she couldn't make out what they were saying. This must be where they were stopping for the night. Hopefully, by now, Gav and Clem were several mugs deep into their barrel of ale.

  Ordella summoned all her strength and raised her knees up as far as the sack would allow, then thrust her legs down sharply. Her bare feet pushed against the sack's bottom seam, but it didn't give. Ordella paused. The men were still talking.

  She reached up and explored the sackcloth above her head with her hands. Like the sack next to her, the material had been gathered at the top and bound tight. She thrust her fingers up into the folds, but the cloth was too strong and resisted her attempts to pry it apart. She ran her palms along the sides of the sack, searching for a weakness or a loose thread. There was nothing. She needed something sharp.

  Ordella grabbed a wad of sackcloth and pulled it towards her mouth. She clamped it between her teeth and pulled with her hands. The material slid through her teeth, and they came together with a grinding clash. She winced and swallowed, then bit down on the cloth again.

  This time one of the strands felt like it loosened. She picked at it, prying it free, then gnawed at it with her front teeth. She'd made a thumbnail-sized hole. Forcing her fingers through, she widened it until it was the size of her fist.

  The men's voices drifted on the breeze, but they didn't sound alarmed. They couldn't have seen her moving. Ordella chewed at another loose strand. If she was going to escape, it had to be now.

  Soon she was able to fit her arms through the gap. She stretched the sides of the hole, and the cloth started to unravel. She wiggled her head and shoulders through. An exhausted moth emerging from its chrysalis.

  Ordella eased the sack down her legs and off her feet. She was free.

  Keeping low, she glanced around. It was almost completely dark now, except for the faint light coming from the men's campfire off to the side of the muddy road. She could make out their silhouettes between the trees. They appeared to be sitting on logs by the fireside, their horses tethered nearby.

  Ordella scrabbled over to the edge of the cart. She pushed down on the sacks beneath her, trying not to think about what her hands were touching, and swung herself forward so she was sitting with her legs dangling over the cart's wooden side.

  She paused and caught her breath. Her leaden limbs ached and beads of sweat dripped from her forehead. Ordella massaged her arms and flexed her fingers. She had to keep going for just a little longer.

  Laughter rang out from the direction of the campfire. Then voices. Ordella waited for a few moments, her heart thumping in her chest. She looked back towards the fire. The men hadn't moved. This was her chance.

  She stared at the ground below her feet, then pushed herself off. Her stiff legs jarred against the floor and buckled under the weight of her body. She pitched backward, and her head struck something hard. Pain jolted through her skull, and a metallic taste filled her mouth. She touched her head. It was hot, and a bump had already started to form, but the skin didn't seem to be broken.

  Ordella turned and, from under the cart, peered back towards the fire. From this angle, it was hard to make out the shadowy figures, but surely they must've heard. She hauled herself into a sitting position, her back resting against the cart's wheel. She tried to stand up, but her legs gave way, and she slumped back down into the grass. She buried her face in her hands.

  The firelight dimmed then returned to normal. Had someone just walked in front of it? She craned
her neck and peered past the cart's side. They must be coming over to investigate the noise. She bit her lip. It would only be a matter of time until they found her.

  It was getting too dark to clearly make out the trees that bordered the track on both sides. Ordella rolled over onto her front. It would be too risky to crawl into the forest, but perhaps there was another option. On elbows and knees, Ordella began to squirm underneath the cart. Hiding was her only chance. If she was lucky, the men wouldn't spot her in the shadows.

  A hand gripped her right ankle. Ordella twisted her body and frantically kicked out with her other leg. Her foot connected, but the blow was feeble and the grasping hand remained firmly in place. She flailed her leg again. This time, her captor was ready. A strong hand caught hold of her left leg and held it still.

  "Stop fighting, Ordella." The voice was familiar. The grip on her legs slackened. "They're heading in this direction. We don't have much time."

  Ordella's mind raced. "How did...?"

  "Later," Merisca said. "For now, just keep quiet."

  Merisca pulled her out from under the cart and hoisted her up into a standing position. Ordella's head spun and her legs didn't feel like her own. Supported by Merisca's muscular arms, she stumbled a few steps across the wet grass. Merisca paused, shifted her grip, then dragged her onward.

  It was now almost pitch black. Leaves and branches brushed against her face, and the footing became more uneven. They had to be heading into the trees that lined the roadside.

  Merisca tugged her down by her tunic, forcing her to kneel on the damp forest floor. She placed her index finger over Ordella's lips.

  Ordella drew a ragged breath and peered into the darkness. The campfire was only just visible from their hiding place.