The Ward Ch. 09

"A cluster," Aleksis whispered, his face tight with anger.

"What does that mean?" Simon whispered back, straining to decipher the strange vibrations in the air. The sounds were collectively male, jovial, but not right.

"It means you will eat well tonight," Aleks shrugged, still looking angry. "I must go first to make ready for you. Sometimes lives taken will mean a life spared."

Simon opened his mouth and realised he would be protesting to thin air. "So much for 'stay close'!" he grumbled, flexing his limbs which were noticeably stronger and more agile than before.

***

"She wanted milk, I suppose," the sailor drawled, setting his two companions into a fit of laugher.

The three men grinned down at the girl tied to the tree, her arms spread wide and secured with coarse rope. They had taken their turns, and the girl's simple dress was completely ripped down the front, her breasts on full display. The sides of her skirt were also torn to a point of barely covering her legs.

"The Guard will hang you!" she weakly managed, her voice very hoarse from being choked and forced to accommodate all three down her throat.

"Can you believe her spirit?" one chuckled. "I say we take her with us to the next port."

"Aye, but the town over will conduct a thorough vessel search," another said doubtfully, kicking a gust of soil at the girl's face. "Not worth the trouble for a bit of skirt. There'll be plenty of young whores wandering the wharf."

The third lifted his palms up and down in a weighing gesture. "I like her innocence, but slaves are not permitted. She's not worth a flogging."

The leader watched the girl with a sinister smile. "Aye, let's take a last turn and decide at the end."

Knowing exactly what this meant, the other two exchanged a wicked look.

When the rope bindings were severed, the girl fell forward, too tired to offer any more fight. On hands and knees, her head was pulled up and she stared with dismay at the two cocks in her face.

"Not again," she whispered pitiably.

"The last time, the promise," the one kneeling behind replied, brushing the flimsy remains of her skirt aside. He spread her cheeks, spitting on the sore area. Slowly jerking his cock back to a softer erection than the first, he lined it up with her back channel.

The girl pulled away from the cock in her mouth with a gasp. "No! Not there!"

"Did you really think we would not take you every way there is?" he smirked. Drawing a small blade, he leaned over her, keeping it at her throat.

"When I finish inside you, and you swallow everything my friends have to offer, I am going to slice your soft throat open."

The knife pressed firmer, and the girl began to cry.

"What in the Gods...!" The two kneeling in front of the girl scrambled back, hurriedly tucking their cocks away.

The one curled over the girl straightened with surprise, watching his companion's stare behind him. He withdrew the knife and turned to look, expecting to see the Guard.

Aleksis stood tall and imposing several metres at the top of the incline, staring in a way that made the men feel strangely discomfited.

"Well lads, a bit of skirt and a noble's purse isn't a bad night's work," the leader said uncertainly.

"But what in the Gods is he doing out here alone?" one hissed incredulously.

The men blinked and Aleksis was upon them. He seized the leader's throat and crushed it. Blood poured down his hand and stained the sleeve of his shirt. The man was tossed aside where he lay convulsing, slowly choking on the blood rushing his shattered throat.

The other two charged and Aleksis raked his nails across the face of one, immediately blinding the man. The last he held still by the neck, the other hand plunged into the man's back, his fingers tightening around the spine. Then Aleksis abruptly released the man, who fell shrieking to the ground.

With cold satisfaction Aleksis considered the terrified trio, one gurgling slowly to death, the other crawling about in a panic without sight, and the last rendered immobile without any use of his legs.

The girl wanted to scream, but no sound would come out. When Aleksis approached her, she promptly fainted. Removing his cloak to wrap about the girl, Aleksis turned with her in his arms to find Simon standing very still, his hands lightly twitching, processing the bloody carnage.

"Dinner is served," Aleksis said with dry irony, then quickly left with the girl. It was fortunate she was unconscious, because the noises that followed were terrifying.

***

The next morning Lucille lay in bed, fretting about her predicament. With only a few hours of sleep, she was feeling particularly moody.

Marie brought her a breakfast tray, since Lucille wanted to be by herself without enduring the furtive scrutiny of the other staff. While Lucille picked and nibbled at her food, Marie busied herself around the room, tidying by moving things which were fine as they were, dusting areas already polished clean. Eventually she hovered by the side of the bed.

"Sit down, Marie," Lucille smiled thinly. "You and I both know the room is well-kept."

The maid brushed her skirt and seated herself nearby and stared at her mistress.

"What do you think of Lord Bridgeton?" Lucille mused, still playing with her food.

Marie looked aghast. "My lady, if I may speak freely..."

"You often do," Lucille said severely, and the maid blushed.

"Well, he is quite old," she said candidly. "And you don't need his money. I believe you are richer."

"He is rather aged," Lucille sighed heavily, remembering Stephan's toned strength. "But he is a kind man. And he has been looking for a wife-"

"Oh, my lady, please not him!" Marie protested, wringing her skirt with angst. "Whenever he smiles, I find myself running a tongue over my own teeth, for he has none. What of Lord Amberley? He is of a better age, and handsome."

"And he'll gamble my estate away before we can exchange nuptials," Lucille retorted, before turning thoughtful. "I always had a fondness for the Governor's deputy, Mr Derrick. Now he's a pleasant fellow-"

"Not a plain Mister!" Marie cried shrilly, and quickly covered her mouth when Lucille glared.

"Keep your voice down!" Lucille hissed, looking to the closed door. "I suppose if I were to stoop that low, I may as well marry..." she stopped herself and swallowed uncomfortably.

"My Lady, while you were...ahm... good friends with Lord Bard, you never socialised much," Marie said timidly. "Then when you were...eh...not so well acquainted, I believe you retreated further. If you were to engage more with society, I am sure you would meet a suitable match."

"There is no time for that," Lucille moaned, pushing the tray aside and burying her face in her hands.

"My Lady..." Marie gasped, goggling at Lucille's visible despair. "You are not with child?!"

"No, fool, I am not!" Lucille irritably snapped, ringing a silver bell with unnecessary force.

Soon after a manservant entered to clear the breakfast tray. As he left the room, another appeared in the doorway.

"My Lady, Lord Edmund Bard is waiting for you in the parlour," he said, looking mildly exasperated.

Marie turned her nose up with a sniff of contempt.

The colour drained from Lucille's face. "I gave clear orders not to be interrupted today. Tell him that I...I am not here."

"He advised that should you tell me to say so, he will wait until you return." The man paused. "I would not have him forcibly thrown out without your order," he said suggestively.

"No, Tom, don't do that," Lucille said hurriedly, not wanting her staff to be beaten within an inch of their lives. "Give him refreshment and let him wait. I shall take a while to be ready."

Disappointed, the servant bowed out and Lucille noticed Marie's indignant look which was almost identical to the one before she left to meet Stephan. "Do not badger me, Marie," she said severely, drawing the blanket aside. "Help me dress."

***

In a cheerful gown of yellow lace, Lucille calmly entered the parlour, signalling for the waiting servant to give them some privacy. Edmund immediately stood to kiss her hand, with his eyes sharply fixed on her face.

The moment their gaze locked Edmund knew something was terribly wrong.

"Good morning, Lucille," he greeted her, his expression still watchful. "Thank you for seeing me. I take from the reception of your servants that it was an incredible inconvenience."

Lucille smiled. "And yet you prevailed. Why have you come, my Lord?"

Edmund hesitated. "I would like to thank you for warning me about the threat from the Guard."

"You thanked me already, Edmund," she answered. "Even so, a note would have sufficed."

"I highly doubt that," Edmund replied easily, crossing his arms.

"Oh?" Lucille said, maintaining an innocent demeanour, though her heart fluttered nervously. She'd forgotten how intimidating Edmund could be. "W-Why is that?"

"Had I sent a mere note, I would miss the pleasure of watching you lie to my face."

Startled, Lucille's eyes darted to his. "E-Edmund...I don't..." she pulled herself together. "What am I supposed to be lying about?"

"I do not know precisely, but I know you are lying to me," he retorted. "You have been to see Stephan, have you not?" he tartly accused, watching a guilty blush fill her cheeks.

"My Lord, I...I..." Lucille stammered. She was sensible enough to realise lying was futile. "I only called upon him to learn there will be no interrogations," she told him, straightening a porcelain vase to avoid his burning gaze.

"Is that so?" Edmund demanded.

Ignoring his sarcasm, Lucille lightly nodded. "Indeed. And now if you wouldn't mind..."

"Lucille, what has happened?" Edmund asked darkly. "What have you done?"

Lucille's smile remained strong. "I do not take your meaning, my Lord. I have relayed good news and I deeply regret not sending you a note earlier-"

"Had I received this news by a servant, you know very well that I would have ridden straight to you for answers," he said forebodingly. "Explain by what means you learned there will be no arrests."

"I do not understand your question," she insisted, edging back as he stepped closer. "I had a...a conversation with Stephan and he reassured me that the event was to be cancelled."

"So, he reassured you in the dead of night?" Edmund said harshly and saw her flinch.

There was more back and forth, until eventually Edmund threatened to confront Stephan himself. Once Lucille reluctantly conveyed some details of her new arrangement, Edmund was absolutely seething.

Lucille's own state of turmoil prompted her to voice a paranoid suspicion. "The truth, Edmund. Is it your concern for my welfare, or your ego that you so passionately disapprove of this?"

Edmund's jaw dropped. "What?"

"We had our flirtation, perhaps it offends you to have a past intrigue sullied by a commoner?"

"No, Lucille!" Edmund growled. "I presumed he admired you, but I never entertained the notion that he would dare propose-" he choked, unwilling to voice it.

With her hands peacefully clasped in her lap, Lucille sombrely waited.

"Our own arrangement was mutual and without complication, so I thought," Edmund continued, feeling a need to justify the difference. "I would never have entered our affair otherwise. I hope you know that I never sought to hurt you, Lucille, ever. For some reason, anyone aware of our dealings seems to think-"

"Your position is vastly more flattering than mine. I am routinely pitied and presumed eager to enact some sort of revenge upon you," Lucille countered, rolling her eyes.

Edmund smiled wryly before resuming the point in his mind. "You are free to associate with whom you please, but I cannot stand for you to do something like this. It offends me, yes. It offends every notion of decency and I will not let you-"

"I am free to associate with whom I please, as you say," Lucille pointed out.

"You are enslaving yourself to the town's most brutal man! A torturer! " Edmund exclaimed. "I may not wish Sage to disappear from society, but she can be kept safely elsewhere, that much I am certain of. But you..."

"Edmund, stop." Lucille closed her eyes with revulsion. "Perhaps I went to him on your behalf, but ultimately my sacrifice was not for your sake," she lied. "I saw the list of condemned. Some higher-class merchants and at least thirty peasants, if not more. All would suffer atrociously and die for his petty hatred."

"That vile, slithering reptile! I'll kill him!" Edmund raged.

"I have reason to believe Stephan's proposal had little to do with punishing you," she said tiredly. "I am shocked to say this aloud, but I believe Stephan has an affection for me." She pulled a face, remembering the impassioned man on top of her. "Or at least it is stronger than his dislike of you. Whatever he intends, he will not...hurt me," she finished with a wince.

"Even if there is no pain, he will take pleasure in degrading you," Edmund retorted, pacing the room.

"There is little point dwelling on those details," Lucille said with distaste. "It was my choice and I will contend with him."

Edmund briskly approached and gripped both Lucille's hands in his own. "Don't do this, Lucille. There is always another way."

"Another way that won't forfeit innocent lives?" she exclaimed. "I wish I never visited him and could remain ignorant of the terrors to unfold. But I cannot turn my back on what I know."

Edmund shook his head. "This is not your fight, Lucille. I resent the presumption that just because I did not propose to you..." he paused to consider his words. "I do love you, Lucille. Your welfare will always concern me; not in a territorial manner."

Lucille recognised Edmund was distraught; his fear for her was genuine. It was comforting, in a bitter way.

"Thank you, Edmund, but he has my answer," she smiled sadly, and withdrew her hands from his grasp.

"Your answer? So, you met him once, and he will destroy the list?" Edmund said cynically. "And then, what? What is to stop him from compiling another list? Do you understand the burden of submitting to a man like Stephan?"

"My obligation to him will cease with an engagement," Lucille weakly answered, staring fixedly at a painting on the wall.

Edmund laughed angrily. "Oh, he must have enjoyed twisting that dagger, knowing I would find out," he snarled, his stomach in a sickening, tight knot. "If he was so insolent to forget his station and make such a proposal, he will not let another man impede his desires. He has ways to interfere." He stood and went to the window.

"I appreciate your intentions, but they were unnecessary," he said heatedly. "Sage can be taken to safety. If you think I would continue on and turn a blind eye to..." his lip curled. "Your quandary is because of me. I, too, do not want to see innocent lives taken. But I will free you of this bondage, somehow."

Lucille shrugged and restlessly fidgeted with her skirt, smoothing it. "There is little point now he has taken me."

"Little point?!" Edmund repeated indignantly. "It is going to continue happening until..." he shook his head. "I will find a way to stop this, Lucille."

"I wish you luck with that endeavour, Edmund," she said wearily, and picked up a bell. "Now I have answered your questions, I must ask you to leave."

****

When he rode into the Guard compound, Stephan's changed demeanour was universally surprising.

"Stephan did my ears deceive me, or did I really hear you whistling? " Garmon gasped as Stephan strode into the main office to check a record.

Another general, Brent, quickly looked up from his paperwork. "Certainly not," he said firmly. "It was the whistling of his horse's nostrils that you heard."

"Someone was whistling!" Garmon argued.

"I suppose I am in good spirits," Stephan said dismissively, not heeding Garmon and Brent exchange a shocked look.

'He was whistling!' Brent mouthed incredulously, turning to consider Stephan.

"Did I miss this morning's executions?" Stephan frowned, ignoring his colleagues' bemused grins.

"No," Brent shrugged, relaxing in his chair. "We decided it was not worth our time with only one condemned. We'll just hang him next week, there's sure to be a group by then."

"Peasants will be peasants," Garmon nodded.

"One condemned," Stephan frowned. "The thieving lad?"

"Aye," Brent confirmed.

"He's only nine, Stephan," Garmon disapprovingly reminded him. "Perhaps a flogging will send him a better path."

"So, in summary, both of you were too weak-willed to punish a sentenced criminal," Stephan concluded, still reviewing papers.

"A very young criminal," Garmon meaningfully specified.

Stephan looked up with amusement. "Would you have me pardon the brat?"

"Oh, don't heed him, Garmon," Brent hastily advised the other general. "Stephan delights in dashing hopes, you know."

Stephan laughed. Placing his reading aside, he searched a section of categorised papers and drew out a small slip of parchment. "Quill, Brent."

Brent suspiciously handed one over, watching Stephan dip the ink and scrawl his name at the base before handing it to Garmon.

"If the lad thieves again, I'll have you pull the hatch," he warned, and turned on his heel, leaving the generals staring after him with open mouths.

"Stephan!" A secretary chased him down the hall, panting and wiping his brow. "You have a visitor. Been waiting a while."

Stephan straightened forebodingly. "Why did you not send word?" he questioned.

"Not a noble." The secretary shook his head. "He's of no importance; a mere labourer. I've left him in the third processing room."

"I am late to the day and have much to accomplish. Did he state his business?" Stephan asked impatiently.

"He would not disclose it. He only said to tell you his name is Cloyd, and you would see him," the secretary shrugged, relieved to have finally delivered the message. "Unless he tired of waiting, he will still be there."

"Very well," Stephan irritably replied, pausing to consider the time before heading swiftly for the processing area.

Cloyd was sitting grumpily on a crude wooden stool and straightened eagerly when Stephan swept into the room.

Stephan checked the space was completely vacant before gently closing the door. "What idiocy made you think it would be acceptable to come here?"

Cloyd flushed. "W-Well, Sir, you said before, I mean," he faltered, unnerved by the wrath on Stephan's face. "I've not heard from you."

"And?" Stephan said harshly.

"And, well, I've been waiting," Cloyd answered defensively. "You told me to be ready-"

"I procured your employment with your promise to speak against a certain noble when I required it. As you might have since determined through that thick skull, I currently do not require it."

Cloyd's jaw dropped with dismay. "Sir, on the hottest days I keep my shirt on because there are scars on my back that will never fade. And you assured me-"

"Do not forget your position," Stephan warned. "I granted a favour in exchange for your willingness to testify. I made no promise to persecute a Lord you have grievance with. Do not make the fatal error of believing I owe anything to you."

Stephan wrenched the door open and stood aside. "I am tempted to flog you for thinking yourself justified to enter these grounds and make demands of me. If you ever set foot on this property again it will be for your own hanging, am I clear?" he snarled.

Pale with fright, Cloyd nodded and scampered from the room, almost falling onto his face as he tripped through the doorway.

With a harsh sigh, Stephan eventually followed, pausing as he heard sounds of a group entering the Guard grounds. Walking quickly to an open section of the walkway, he perceived four horsemen. All were straight-backed, dressed majestically in a brighter, more decorative uniform than the Guard.