Unkarra Gate (1st draft)

Chapter 35.1

After the fort had been struck with the javelins thrown by Ronclay, Ezara and Dara found it impossible to relax enough to sleep. The old feeling of being hunted returned, and the wooden fort only felt like a trap.Bogrel and their friends, and almost everyone, were already far outside the walls, preparing their attack.

They talked about their friends, and their worry for them They talked about returning home, and their family back there, and their worry for them.They spoke of the home they lost, and whether they would ever really go back to Geberra.

They curled up inside their furs and blankets, on the hard benches that passed for beds in the quarters of the Fort, for the entire night, talking across the narrow aisle between bunks.

Dawn brought drowsiness for them, even as it brought death for their friends out on the battlefield. Yet even as they drowsed, more was coming for them. As though the evil unleashed upon the battlefield had crossed the small distance and filled the minds of men, Matias burst into the quarters room and descended upon them like a storm.

Ezara sat up, but was struck down with a slap against her jaw so hard she was knocked down from her bunk. All her sense of the world was mixed up from that point, as sounds were distant or far too loud, she couldn't tell what was happening first or next. She was tied up roughly, wrists bound behind her back. There was talking. But for some reason the Unkarran words didn't make sense to her. Perhaps the words were slap, and it had made her forget. Dara was screaming, being carried over someone's shoulder. And that was it, the last time she'd ever see her best friend alive. Looking back on that moment, Ezara would think Dara knew it, in the way she reached back for her friend so desperately.

But she had been slapped so hard, nothing seemed to make sense. Had she seen that before being slapped? And how long ago had that happened, she had to wonder. Seconds ago? Minutes ago?

She had to move. She was left alone, on the ground, tied. But this had happened to her just too often and she was now prepared. Hidden on her leg was a small knife, small enough that it would never be found without thoroughly stripping her. But it took a long time to reach for it.

Even as she struggled, at the same time, Dara was struggling, she, for air. In the face of death, Matias had abandoned his humanity, and simply taken from Dara that which he desired. Violating her body, taking her voice and air from her with her own scarf.

Ezara struggled with all her might, stretching herself oddly and straining her hands using the knife, and even cutting herself, but she worked herself free of the ropes binding her. It had taken her too long, however long it had been. The stars and ringing from the slap had faded away, and now she was filled with frustration.

They had taken Dara out the door to outside, which likely meant they were headed to the other side of the Fort; this ground floor being Sprite in two by the gateway. The door was barred shut, as was the window, but not as securely.

There was no on outside. Only the very dimly illuminated courtyard, itself under the huge gate structure. Everything was very, very silent.

Ezara snuck around to the door to the other quarters, which was barred shut. Nothing could be heard from within, but she knew they must have come here. She checked on the window, which was secured with wooden bars, but she was lithe enough to climb through.

She found Dara almost immediately, lying motionless on one of the bunks. Tears welled up in Ezara's eyes as she saw the blank, distant look in Dara's. She flung herself at her friend's side, shaking her, touching her face, but it was clear that Dara was already dead. Her face twisted in agony, and she found herself unable to draw breath, her chest pained so.

Putting her face into Dara's chest, and running her fingers through her fine hair, Ezara cried to no end. She had no cares left if she were caught.

After a long while, she found that she had stopped crying, and was just lying in silence, as though her tears had run dry. In this silence she heard the gate opening.

The noise snapped her from her grief, and it ignited into rage like a flame bursting from a smouldering branch.

"I'm going to kill him," she spoke aloud, though it came out quite choked up. "I'll kill him," he repeated, like a mantra.