Jen, Damaged Ch. 01

"Oh yes?" Jen skeptically raised an eyebrow and grimaced. "I doubt it'll come to that. Seth has that job working nights down at the docks, and it makes good money, for all he complains about it."

"Well, that's because it's illegal." Sylvie finished braiding Jen's hair and stood stiffly, stretching. "But in any case, Father said for us not to worry about it, and I'm not going to. He's never lied to us before." 
Jen stayed silent. After a minute, her sister shrugged and picked up the brush and leftover ribbons and slipped away. As soon as she was gone, Jen stretched back on the bed and rang the maid's bell. "Farjah," she commanded down the speaking tube, "get me a pot of tea and some biscuits." Her haughty voice could be heard on all four levels, and Farjah would come running. She'd learned the harsh price for hesitation.

Jen closed her eyes, thinking, letting the golden afternoon sunlight play across her face as it filtered through the trees outside her window. Even if the famine lasted for another season, enough money could buy anyone food. And food was more precious than gold in these dry years. Four straight years without rain, they'd had, and the formerly lush kingdom of Hartzograv was barren and dusty. Her brother Seth was working at the docks, smuggling food into the nobles' households, to rich people like Jen's father who could afford to pay astronomical sums for strawberry jam and fresh carrots.

She breathed in and out slowly, feeling herself lulled slowly to sleep. The two trees outside her window were watered weekly with water that was worth almost as much per pound as gold, and a month ago they'd had to give up that extravagence. The leaves were already withered and dropping, but some life remained. They whispered dully in the hot, dusty breeze.

Father wouldn't let anything happen to his daughters. With no marriage prospects at the moment, Sylvie and Jen were kept locked up tight in the stifling house for fear they would find trouble. This was because their Father loved them and wanted to protect them. He said he would never let them starve. Though Jen had her doubts. She saw how tight Seth's mouth was in the morning when he trudged home from the docks. There was less and less smuggled food. There was seafood, but the commoners refused to sell to the nobles at any price and the area around the town was becoming overfished. Father became more and more secretive and bad tempered as time went on. Jen knew not to interrupt him at night, when he worked industriously on finishing the last of the wine cellar's stock. She hid bruises well.

Farjah knocked on the doorframe and swayed in, startling Jen from her reverie. Hastily she pulled down her sleeves.

"Thank you, Farjah. But I see you have not brought what I asked you to? Would you care to explain this most puzzling absence?"

Usually Farjah could be intimidated by this, but not today. She looked Jen flatly in the eye. She saw a small, compact young woman, gracefully muscled and with fat in all the right spots. She was excellently proportioned. Her no-nonsense auburn bun was scraped back tightly, but it could not hide the fine-featured, high-cheekboned face with its pale, fair skin, nor could she mask the blazing eyes, green in this light but sometimes blue, sometimes, grey.

"Lord Smithwick wishes to see you immediately, m'lady. He is in the study." She bobbed a small curtsy and fled.

"Damn it," Jen muttered. She swung off the bed smoothly and stood in front of the mirror, nervously clasping a silver necklace around her long neck and brushing back some wisps of hair that had escaped. Father required his daughters to look presentable. Straightening the sky-blue satin dress with vicious tugs, she practically flew out of the room and down the hall.

"Father, I am here." She rapped twice at the oak study door. After a moment, it opened, and she stepped demurely inside, head bowed, her clear eyes that couldn't hide emotions cast safely towards the floor.

"About time, too." He harrumphed from his desk chair. "Sit down." He turned to someone standing in the gloom behind him. "What did I tell you?"

A voice, out of the shadows. Jen, forgetting herself, looked up and widened her eyes in shock. "We want to see the goods. A dress can be tailored to make almost anyone look flattering. And in this light it's not easy to see the face."

She blushed hotly, angrily. It sounded like they were talking about her as though she was a horse, an animal, something to be examined like merchandise!

"Father," she said, attempting without success to keep her voice controlled, "what is going on?"

"Dear," he replied. Too friendly. Her heart missed a beat. Something very bad was about to happen. "If you knew that you could save our family, would you do it? Even if it meant great personal sacrifice?"

"Of course, Father," she murmured, "but what does this have to do--ugnh!" hands grasped her firmly by the arms, keeping her from moving or fighting. More hands began tearing off the dress while she struggled. She couldn't see her attackers, but her father acted as though nothing was happening. He continued, "We are almost out of money, and completely out of food. There are no more tea and biscuits. There is nothing. I have been selling some of my personal items for weeks in exchange for food, but now it's your turn."

As the dress was dragged off her shoulders, as a rag was tied around her mouth so she couldn't scream, he finished, "I'm selling you to these gentlemen, who say you will fetch an excellent price on the slave market. I'm sorry it has to come to this, dear, but you must understand that everyone must do what they can in these hard times."

She was naked now, and she felt the bile rise in her throat at her Father's treachery. These men were grabbing her, poking her and prodding her all over, and all her Father said was, "I promise I'll get you back as soon as this drought's over." Then she heard no more, as the men, tired of her struggling, shoved a sickly-sweet rag in front of her nose and she gratefully fell down into the dizzying blackness before her.