Chapter 35 #2
“You want to know why we train like this? Why I insist that you are competent in all manner of hand-to-hand combat? That you know how to use weapons like this”—I shook my spear—“because the Warlord is ruthless and he is cunning. And, whether you want to admit it or not, he is coming. He is preparing. And his preparations are much more despicable, much more . . . evil than our own. Did you know that he slaughtered an entire village just because they kept a book from him?” Anders’ eyes widened, but I continued.
“Yes, he killed every man, woman, and child with brutal precision. Some were burned alive in their homes. Others were raped multiple times before being run through by swords. The men were castrated and stuck on spikes, dying slowly as their blood coated the spears they sat on. Babies were ripped from wombs while their mothers still breathed. His Mages used their magic to think up any number of vile acts, all while the Pain Mages preyed on the suffering that surrounded the village. It was a palpable thing that day. Even Vessels with no ability to channel could taste it on the wind. Screams and pleading filled the air for hours. And none of the Keepers fought back. They were all like you—unarmed with no magical abilities, and the Warlord slaughtered them without thought and without warning. If he did all of that because they hid a book from him, what do you think he’s planning to do to us?
A rebellion that has risen in direct response to his rule? ”
My voice rose in intensity and fervor the longer I spoke, and I let my words hang in the silence that followed my tirade.
Anders’ face was devoid of color, his eyes darting around as if looking for an escape from my anger.
“How do you know this?” the girl with the mousy-brown hair stated. Her friend with the blonde braids was fighting tears as the other boy in their group comforted her.
I glanced up at the surrounding training groups, unsurprised to see them all watching me, waiting for my answer.
“Because I was there,” I answered, a hardness to my tone I almost didn’t recognize.
“I had to watch as innocents were slaughtered mercilessly, as babies took their first breath just before their last, as women were brutally raped next to the bodies of their husbands. And I had to store that pain for my Mage to use on others.”
“But you’re here now, with us. There’s no way the Warlord would have just let you go after seeing . . . that,” the mousy girl whispered, and I canted my head, impressed at her intellect.
She might be useful.
I turned to her, pulling the neck of my shirt down to expose my chest. The frigid air nipped at my exposed skin, but, for once, I didn’t feel it.
My Mage—my master—had chosen to put my Bonding mark above my right breast. Larger than any other Bonding mark I’d seen and in a place that was reserved “for him.” Bile rose in my throat at the thought.
I gestured to my chest, to the mottled and scarred skin that encompassed the tops of both breasts. She sucked in a breath, tears falling from her cheeks at the sight.
“You’re right. They didn’t let me go. I had to do something, though.
My soul wouldn’t let me stay there a moment longer.
So I killed my Mage. He fell asleep one night, after drinking and raping me, and forgot to secure my chain to his belt.
So I took it”—I mimed grabbing the chain and was certain she saw the scars from where the metal cuffs cut too tightly into my wrists, ripping my skin repeatedly—“And I pulled it against his neck as hard as I could. He woke while I was strangling him and tried to punish me with his Pain Magic—the magic that I held inside for him. But I only pulled harder against his throat until I saw his eyes bulge and face turn purple. I kept pulling even after he stopped struggling, after he stopped breathing, until I heard his neck snap.”
The girl shuddered at my detailed explanation.
“Then I took the knife at his belt and I ran. I ran until I couldn’t anymore, and there, in the forest outside of Vespera, I cut his mark from my body.
When I finally reached the Matriarch, bloody, exhausted, and near death, she recognized me, and I thought for sure my life was forfeit.
Instead, she nursed me to health. Had Torin watch over me, keep me company.
She trusted me, he trusted me, and I owe them both my life and allegiance. ”
Silence descended again as I released my shirt collar, covering the evidence of what I’d endured. My body shook and my ears rang as bile rose in my throat. Reliving those memories was a puncture to my soul.
Torin was wrong. I didn’t feel better—I felt worse. I felt like I did that last day I was his slave, the feelings as clear and potent as they were sixteen years ago.
“There’s no way a woman like you was able to best a trained Pain Mage,” Anders said to my retreating back. I froze, my steps halting completely as I turned to regard him.
This time, I didn’t bother to hide my emotions. Rage like I felt that day danced across my face, and I let this boy see every painful, angered part of me.
In a one swift motion, I raised my spear and charged the imbecile.
My hand holding my weapon snapped out as soon as I was in range, Anders’ eyes growing wide in fright.
He dodged my first attack before I spun, the butt of my spear arcing toward his feet and knocking him off balance.
Two aggressive leaps later, I stood, hovering above Anders, my spear against his neck as his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths.
The boy’s heart was practically beating out of his chest from the exertion, but also from fear. I could practically smell it on him.
“Next time, Anders, I suggest you watch your tongue,” I bit out, my voice low and deadly, “or you may find it detached from your mouth.”
With that, I removed my spear from his neck as he flinched, and left the training yard. Nothing but the crunch of my footsteps and the sound of the wind followed me.