A gate opened at the far end of the field and six Royal Guards entered the amphitheater. Behind them, Daegel and Jinx followed and both were dressed in finery. Their wrists held metal cuffs and a chain trailed between them, the two shackled together. Daegel’s servants trailed after them, divided into sections based on their titles within his household, the most important first and dwindling down to the least of the least. Each section of servants was shackled together. More Royal Guards followed the group, hurrying them along. At one point, Jinx stumbled and Daegel raised his chain bound arm to yank her upright.
The guards lined up the condemned into varying ranks before the crowd. Daegel and Jinx were placed in front for all of High Society to view. Jinx was outfitted with an elaborate teal gown, with abundant lace and sparkling jewelry. Daegel wore a finely crafted suit, white shirt and black bow tie. I’d heard that Casimer insists on the condemned dressing their part in society and thereby mocking their sudden shift in position, shaming them fully before their execution begins.
The Royal Guards lined up Daegel’s servants of the highest rank directly behind the two. In the next row were the servants in a lower rank and the lowliest servants were placed on the back row.
A few pitiful cries lifted from the rows of servants below. Daegel looked back and shouted at them to be silent. Jinx struggled to control her terror and a cry occasionally escaped her lips. Daegel lifted a chain-wrapped wrist and hit her square in the face. With a cry of pain, Jinx cowered away from him and covered her face with her hands. When she removed them, her hands came away bloody. Her torture began early at her coverings doing.
Terror would make people do strange things. Daegel’s fury was palpable even at his impending death. After reining in his frustration and fear, he seemed to reach for Jinx and whispered something to her. She moved slightly towards him and their hands briefly touched.
I once again heard Gorma’s cries of distress as she called out her daughter’s name. I didn’t turn around but I heard Ragmag growl his displeasure. Then he hit her and Gorma’s cries grew muffled and restrained. I couldn’t imagine losing a child this way, the very reason I never wanted children.
Forcing my mind elsewhere, I wondered if Casimer was in attendance and I glanced up at the elevated, grand tower to the right. From my location in the stands, it was difficult to see anything.
Just then, a black, obsidian cloud began to descend from the sky above, a swirling, celebrating evil mass of Casimer’s dark wraiths. Breathing became so difficult that I gasped a few times trying to get enough air into my lungs. The Tonrar’s heavy aura became unbearable and I noticed that Magdalon also struggled to breath. A collaborative, heaving torment emanated from all around me as the members of High Society labored to get enough air into their bodies.
I suddenly noticed a black cape swirl over the balcony high above, but I could not see Casimer’s frame. Yes, the evil ruler was present.
My eyes were diverted onto the field as a band was ushered onto the grassy stage and took up their positions on a platform to the left. They carried instruments and scrolls of music. The platform where they congregated was surprisingly free of the dark, hovering cloud that had descended on us. I doubted they’d be able to play music while being influenced by the debilitating catatonia of the Tonrar. All eyes were drawn to the musicians as they warmed up their instruments. They were a welcome distraction.
As they began to play, the music filled the space with a false cheerfulness, a lively tune, as though we were at a ball and eager to dance. My soul rebelled against the forced jubilation and manipulated, morbid celebration and I couldn’t help but grimace at the dichotomy I found myself in. Song after song, the music grew more light and airy, as though our world was bright and joyful and there was no reason for alarm. Suddenly the music halted and my focus was drawn to the back gate.
Six trumpeters entered the field and positioned themselves in a row near the rear stone fence. Lifting the trumpets to their lips, they released three long blasts. A Royal Guard stepped beside them, placed a megaphone to his lips and announced loudly, “Let the executions begin!”
Screeches and howls filled the air above us as the Tonrar released their diabolical excitement and murderous fervor. The thick darkness grew heavier as more of the wraiths invaded the place, their grim and morbid jubilation a foretelling of the macabre blood-letting about to take place.
The Royal Executioners and Torturers entered through the gate at the far end, all of them wearing black uniforms with three strips of color detail, red, yellow and blue. One of them led a horse and cart to the execution site. The cart was full of myriad torture tools, from knives, metal hooks, curved swords, saws, assorted whips, some laced with metal studs, and a host of other paraphernalia. The devices at their disposal were endless and brought the most horrific images to mind.
The sound of barking dogs filtered toward us from the back wall. Perhaps some of Daegel’s household would be forced to endure being torn apart by Casimer’s vicious killer dogs. Dread filled me over the show we were being forced to watch.
Executioners brought the last row of servants, the lowliest members forward to begin their work. Their chains were removed and each one was led off to various stations of torture. Cries of distress began in earnest as they were placed into different contraptions. Some were strapped to boards and others were taken to alternate devices of torture and pain. The ones on the boards were doomed to have their bodies gradually stretched asunder. The guards secured their hands and feet with strong braided rope and began to crank the wooden bases apart. Screams of pain filled the air as their joints and bones eventually succumbed to the pressure and began to pop and snap. The musical band played along as though we were witnessing the grandest theatrical production in Dwarkaa’s entire Domain.
Other servants were dunked into boiling cauldrons then removed and skinned alive, their horrific screeches of pain ear splitting. One man was left in the boiling cauldron, his arms in chains and secured so that he could not get out. He was being cooked alive, his howls of agony ignored as the guards around him joked and laughed.
Other servants were tied to poles and various contraptions as they were meticulously cut apart, their body parts thrown to the side like refuse. Others were branded over and over by metal rods heated in a coal hearth that had been prepared ahead of time. The glowing coal hearth stood in the middle of all the torture paraphernalia.
The killing spree went on for a good amount of time; the pain-filled and horrific screeching reaching such intensity that it caused my whole body to vibrate in terror. This heartless and undeserved murderous affair was beyond anything I’d seen or witnessed before. I was reaching a breaking point and didn’t know how much longer I could contain my revulsion or the nausea that was threatening.
Finally, the cries abated as one after the other succumbed to a grateful death. Those still hanging to life by a thread were thrust through with a sword to the heart. The Royal Executioners progressed to the next row of servants. The killings grew more prolonged, more grotesque and more difficult to watch. The Executioners were finding great pleasure in their torture methods and in causing the most pain possible to their victims.
I lowered my eyes and could no longer look. I could handle the death of some but this brutal torture of those who did not deserve it was more than I could take. My stomach churned in protest and I thought I might even faint. I noticed a few women around me slump in their seats, their men holding them and keeping them from sliding to the floor.
I felt Magdalon squeeze my hand and rub his shoulder against mine. I turned my head towards him and I found him gazing into my eyes. We stayed that way a long time, drawing strength from each other, keeping our focus on one another. Screams of torment filled the air to such a degree that it seemed like one, unanimously long, hideous wail of human suffering that rent the air in two and caused the heavens to shudder in empathy.
Suddenly, a furious screeching from the hideous wraiths filled the atmosphere with a horrible dread.
We both turned our attention to the field and noticed that both Daegel and Jinx had buckled to the ground, their forms still and quiet. Some Royal Guards ran toward them and attempted to haul them to their feet. Daegel and Jinx both remained limp and lifeless. After checking for pulses, the Royal Guards faced the high tower and, with terror on their faces, shook their heads.
A furious howl emanated from above, causing the air to reverberate with a ferocious tremor and causing my skin to quiver in fear.
“What happened?” I asked in a whisper.
Magdalon leaned in close and responded just as quietly, “They poisoned themselves.”
“Oh.”
“Likely by belladonna berry.”
Inwardly, I cheered their bravery in killing themselves before Casimer could. I would have done the same given the opportunity.
Suddenly, a black as night darkness filled the space as an aura of absolute diabolism soared around us, and an unearthly, malevolent howling saturated the amphitheater. I could not see a thing as the obsidian cloud dominated the atmosphere and an overpowering evil bludgeoned through the space. Absolute terror invaded and I lowered my head to my knees and placed my hands over my head. Magdalon did the same but he placed an arm around my shoulders to protect me. We huddled together while the air convulsed in fury. We stayed that way for minutes on end. Absolute terror kept us from even taking a peek.
When the sounds finally ceased and the air grew calmer around us, we slowly lifted our frames and looked out at the field. The blackness which had descended was slowly clearing from the atmosphere.
The heavy presence of the Tonrar had also lifted to a degree and it suddenly became easier to breath. As the general vicinity cleared and our vision improved, the sight before me caused me to inhale in shock. The field was littered with the dead. No one had been spared. The musician’s bodies lay shredded on the platform and their instruments had been flung across the field, each one smashed to oblivion. The Royal Guards, the Royal Executioners, Torturers and the rest of Daegel’s servants had all been destroyed. With one furious burst of Casimer’s savagery, their bodies had been ripped apart, body parts littering almost every part of the grassy field, blood smeared everywhere, a crimson veil cast over the emerald ground.
The only ones still living were the ones watching from the seats, the members of High Society. That Casimer and his Tonrar hadn’t killed all of us was shocking. I was thankful but cautious. There was no promise that he would not return and finish us off.
In hushed horror, the whole crowd sat deathly still and afraid to move. Although it was much easier to breath, the entrance of air easing the crushing pain in my chest, fear still held us all captive. A thinning mist of dark cloud was gradually lifting from the amphitheater and hovered high in the air above us.
Finally, Xian, seated to our left, stood, and said, “Everyone, get up. We need to move. Everyone get out of here.”
Slowly, couples stood to their feet and moved as silently as possible, while a dazed alarm prodded us all along. The women’s elaborate gowns swished between the rows of seats as they moved methodically toward the steps and down to the main level. Magdalon and I followed numbly until we exited beneath the grand archway and hurried to where our horse and carriage team waited.
Once safely inside the carriage, I said, “Take me to Krishay Manor.” I had no desire to remain on Casimer’s Royal Grounds.
Magdalon nodded and informed the Coachman.
On our ride back to Krishay Manor, silence settled like a shroud between us. My mind felt numb to the horror I’d seen, the trauma too much to process in that moment.
I’d often felt this before, after Casimer’s Royal Ships visited our shores on Akoni Farrin. They always left death and despair behind. I’d become adept at managing trauma and pain. I usually took it out during a battle, warring against other clans. Here there was no such release, although going on my night forays might help release some of the aggression that was building in my soul.
When we reached Krishay Manor, Magdalon exited first and helped me down.
Still holding my hand, he swung me to face him and said, “I will leave you here. I have work to do. I will be expected to fulfill my duty.”
“Will you return tonight?”
“I’m not sure. I will need to process today’s events. I will likely return. I feel I may need your company later and the comfort of your warm body against mine”
I nodded and he entered the carriage and left. I watched until the horse and carriage team faded into the distance. I suddenly realized my deep need for my covering this night, to find comfort in his arms. I’d never longed for anyone to this degree before and, unexpectantly, felt grateful I was covered.
Slowly, I moved from my dazed state, entered my home and hurried to my bed chamber to get alone. Sitting by the fire hearth I tried to quiet the raging of my soul.
Hopelessness pressed upon me and I felt discouragement invade in earnest. Seeing a display of Casimer’s strength and murderous outrage was shocking. I’d always known that he was cruel and vindictive beyond measure, but actually seeing the power he possesses and displayed before my very eyes made me feel like I was less than nothing in comparison. How could I, a lone woman, make any dent in ridding the world of him? What strength did I possess in contrast to his overwhelming and encompassing wicked supremacy? What could my little night forays do in stemming his overweening malevolence and hatred of the human race?
Thoughts of abdicating my place on Dwarkaa Farrin ran through my mind. I could not do this anymore. How could I function while carrying this deep trauma and still attempt to rid this world of Cassmer? I felt utterly wounded and broken to be of any good to anyone. But I felt something else in that moment. Fury was growing beyond reason within my chest. I’d seem the terror on every person watching the performance. They’d looked undone, paralyzed by the tyranny of their vile ruler. No one was safe, regardless of what position or title they carried.
Placing a hand on my abdomen, I rubbed it gently and willed for the nausea to diminish. I’d been suspecting for a few days now that I may be with child and the very idea caused me to panic. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t bear a child doomed to be taken by that heartless despot.
Not finding any peace of mind, I stood and slipped through my door into the back yard. Aimlessly, I wandered through the pathway of my minimal garden. Mine did not compare with the gardens at Magdalon’s home. His gardens were filled with impressive terraces, hidden coves with benches, numerous paths, a lush green oasis and flowers beyond number. The cobbled trail in my simple garden made a loop, flowers, trimmed bushes and a gaggle of trees standing guard around the meager grove. A bench was located centrally, a small graveled trail leading toward it and surrounded by flowering growth. I avoided it and kept walking, completing loop after loop under the swaying branches, too agitated to sit still.
Occasionally, shrieks from up above filtered down to where I walked, the Tonrar on the loose and celebrating their killing spree. They were likely still wound up and looking for more opportunities to bring pain and heartache. I hoped the branches and leaves of the trees would hide my aimless wandering. My dark gown would not show easily through the leafy cover.
The air grew quiet once again and I breathed a weary sigh. How tired I was of avoiding those wicked wraiths, how exhausting to constantly fend for one’s existence, how overwhelming it was to continuously live in fear. I believed I was nearing the stage of breaking, of being overcome by the whacks.
Those who are pushed to this point never recover. Some unfortunate souls, on my home farrin, had mentally snapped and resorted to hiding in the caves, mumbling to themselves day and night, their minds pressed into an alternate existence in order to endure at all. Family members would bring them food to make sure they would survive, but others, with no family to care for them and left to fend for themselves, would slowly starve to death in their mindlessness.
Suddenly, I felt a distinct shift in the atmosphere. I knew immediately who was coming before I even saw the white mist and cloud descend. Waves of tangible wellbeing began to waft toward me, easing the turmoil within my soul. Slowly, the pearly fog grew thicker while it descended from the branches above and stopped at eye level before me. A silvery hue emanated from the mist and caused the surroundings to sparkle strangely.
“Viveka,” he said with such warmth and meaning. The reverberation of his voice created shimmering waves that felt like fingers of peace reaching for me.
Tears immediately began to flow and I said, “Towsaj! You came.”
“You are heavy and burdened.”
“You must think me weak and incompetent.”
“Why would I? Not too many can endure what you’ve endured and still stand so strong and capable.”
“I don’t feel capable,” I said, swiping angrily at the tears that still flowed.
“But you are. And now you are with child. And this pregnancy is such a boon in the midst of great difficulty.”
“A boon? Why in Dwarkaa’s Domain would you say such a thing? I will be required to give the babe over to that tyrant, Casimer.”
“You will not lose the child. You will be the mother to this infant and you will see this babe grow into adulthood.”
I stared at Towsaj and wondered if he truly knew this or if he was lying in order to get me to do what he wanted me to do. But he did know I was with child. How could he know such a thing when I wasn’t even completely sure of the matter myself?
“Remember,” he said, “you are not alone. There is a great company with you, a great band of revolutionaries. And…there is an invisible army that is fighting alongside you. Do not be afraid.”
“The fear cannot be quenched. It comes at will.”
“When it comes, remember me. Remember our talks. Recall my words.”
I stared at him but remained silent. I was still too overcome by the horrors of the day.
“Your mind will not break and your strength will not diminish.”
“No whacks for me?”
He smiled like a father amused by a small child. “You’re stronger than you think, Viveka.”
I shook my head despondently. “Strength has drained from me this day like a flask with a hole, the mead spilling at my feet.”
“Listen,” Towsaj said.
A song began to whisper through the trees and shrubs, lifting the air and wafting over me in a sweet melody. The words were strange and the music otherworldly but the comfort they brought was beyond any prior encounter or experience. The whole garden seemed to be echoing the sounds and singing them back to the source.
The words surrounded me, reassuring me, affirming me and I finally closed my eyes, lifted my face to the sky and soaked it in. Never had I trusted such a surreal happening and surrendered myself to it, but it felt like the right thing to do. As I yielded to the encounter, I felt my soul gradually being restored, healed and made whole.
The song’s words washed over my bruised and hurting soul. “Towsaj is near, never far. He hears your cries and will respond. He will help, will defend and guard you always. No harm will touch you, no darkness invade. The light of Tarman Farrin surrounds you and no darkness can overcome it. Do not fear the enemy or his power. No one is greater than Towsaj and no power compares to his. He is close, he is watching and listening. He is always near. Do not fear.”
As the words ended, the melody still whispered in the air around me. The surreal wafting I’d felt, as though the song was alive and a breathing entity, grew soft and shallow but did not lift entirely.
I opened my eyes and looked at Towsaj. The approving smile on his ancient, misty face comforted me further.
“Remember, I am with you and will help you.”
“How will I know that this is so?”
“When you hear the trill of the cardinal, you will know that I am near.”
“What’s a cardinal?” I asked in confusion.
“You’ve never seen one, never heard it sing. But you will. The bird is red, with a black face, the males more red than the females. The females are pale brown with reddish tinges on wings, tail and crest. Watch for them. They are coming.”
The cloud began to dissipate and lift, the face disappeared and Towsaj departed. The overwhelming peace that had come with his appearing still hovered around me and stayed with me longer this time.
I felt better than before, stronger somehow and with a new determination racing through me. The knowledge that I would be a mother to this wee one growing inside of me filled my heart with gratitude. Towsaj promised that this child would grow to adulthood and tears filled my eyes. I would stay and I would finish my course, my assignment. Towsaj’s words had increased my resolve.
I still didn’t know how everything would turn out, but I did know some things. That knowledge suddenly brought me a sense of purpose and desire to see the mission through to the end. After all, Towsaj promised he’d always be with me. I was not alone.
