A/N -- That song is reminiscent of one that happens in the chapter (after the dashes). Give it a listen, ya'll!
Rhalla had been imprisoned for four days. It had been miserable, to be true. She'd seen Nealon on at least nine separate occasions. Each time, he'd just fed her and then sat in the cell corner, quiet. The last time, he'd brought a book for himself. She hadn't seen Baron Riasion since he'd left his son to take her every which way. In the back of her mind, she wondered what Nealon had reported about his visits. Surely they were false reports of her suffering, or the baron would have done the job himself already.
Whatever the case, she was indebted to Nealon. When the cell door clicked open again five minutes later, she saw him for the tenth time. He looked incredibly well-dressed this visit, wearing an embroidered blue doublet. His dark hair was braided down his back. Nealon also looked very anxious. He shut the door behind him quietly.
Rhalla watched as he pulled some bread from his pack, just as he had done the other times. As before, he'd only held it to her mouth. He didn't force it down her throat or try and choke her with it like the baron might have done. That and he was even kind enough to look away as she ate. It bruised Rhalla's pride to eat from someone's hand, and he knew it. When she was done, she coughed to let him know. Nealon's head snapped back to survey her face.
He just stood for a minute before he spoke, as if he were trying to figure out how to say what weighed on his mind. His voice was soft and somber. "There's something you should know. There's a victory celebration tonight. The remaining men... they'll be there, mind for a small squadron that will stay in the girl's chambers to... respond to the horn should the guardians or soldiers return." To kill them, was implied. "You are to be washed before this celebration. It's supposed to be my job." He met her eyes. "But I won't touch you. I've brought a female to bathe you."
"Washed for what?"
"You'll be there. The main event, he called you. The Cricket that invaded... tied up and helpless. They'll make toasts to your failure. They'll laugh in your face. And then, my father means to end the celebration in the red room. For one night, the women's services are free. He wants you there with them," came the strangled admission. "I can't save you there. I can't just pretend like I've..." his voice trailed off. "Not with so many witnesses. If he sees I don't want you harmed... then I have no chance of ever saving you from anything ever again."
Rhalla's stomach sunk at the news. She took a deep breath. In a situation like this, control was impossible. Her body would be ransacked against her will, even with Nealon's help. Still, she looked at him and held on to what little control she had. "Am I to be had by anyone that wants me?"
Nealon looked sorrowful. "Yes."
Rhalla swallowed a lump in her throat. "Do you find me disgusting?" was all she asked.
Nealon looked taken aback. "I... no. You're just a person."
"I'm not a beautiful person," she replied after a moment of silence. "But if my arms are covered. If... if they paint my face... I... I'm told I have nice eyes... And I'm clean. I take care of myself."
"I don't understand."
"If I am to be... used tonight, with no exceptions," she sputtered the words with tears in her eyes. "Then let it be you."
Nealon's heart dropped into his stomach.
"Or if you don't want to, just cut my throat here," Rhalla told him. Suddenly, she was sobbing. The mighty Rhalla broke down and cried. "I can't do it again. I just can't. I can't see face after disgusting face, hear the voices. Hear the sounds as they slam themselves into me. I can't feel their hands bruise me. I can't feel so powerless anymore. I just can't."
"I can't outright kill you. Then, he might kill everyone else because someone had mercy on you. But I..." Nealon choked. "I also promised myself I'd never be my father. I promised myself I'd never rape a woman. Not after my mother. It's too despicable."
Rhalla reined herself in with all she had. "It's not rape. I-- I'm giving you permission. Just... be as gentle as you can, if you do. Please."
"But you don't want me," Nealon whispered. "It's wrong."
"I don't want you," Rhalla whispered in agreement. "I don't want this. But it's either you or..." There was a long pause. "Let it be you. Let it be someone kind, if it indeed must be someone. Perhaps knowing that alone will save my soul."
There was a moment's pause. The baron's son went pale. After a moment, he swallowed and nodded. "As you wish, Rhalla. I will do as you ask. I'll do everything in my power to make sure it doesn't hurt you." He made his way to the exit before turning his head. "I am so sorry for... everything to come." Then, he opened the door. Waiting on the other side, was a woman. She held two small, covered pails and a folded towel with shaking hands. Nealon stepped to the side to let her in.
"Once she's bathed," Nealon said. "Knock on the cell to the right. I'll be hiding there. Don't take too long, Lelandra. They can't notice that you're gone."
He left them to it. Meanwhile, Rhalla was hit with a tide of emotions. Nealon had not only gotten a woman to wash her --he'd gotten her old friend, the person she trusted the most in this whole estate. Lelandra. The girl she'd nicknamed Sunny. The girl who hadn't made it out that night. It couldn't have been an accident. Nealon had to have known.
Just as Elizabeth, the years had blossomed Lelandra Lowan. Like Rhalla, she was a tall girl. It was fitting that she'd been nicknamed after a sunflower. But she didn't quite reach Rhalla's stature. She stood just under six feet. She was lovely, but of course she was. She wasn't allowed to be anything else here. Her body was curvy, her hair was long and soft, and her face was pristine. There was still an apprehensive gleam in her eyes, as there had been so long ago. As she looked into Rhalla's face, there was no recognition.
Lelandra approached the guardian slowly. Without a word, she placed the two pails and towel down on the ground. Then, she slowly undressed Rhalla to bathe her. As soon as the guardian stood in only her skin, Lelandra reached down and opened the container. There was a rag within the soapy water that she wrung with her hands.
She started with Hench's face and neck. The water was thankfully warm. Again, Rhalla gave an internal thank you to the baron's son for small mercies. Rhalla put up no fight against Sunny, if that wasn't obvious. In fact, she just watched her old friend. Part of her wished she could just hug her. This girl had once served as a sister to her, after all. Alas, Rhalla was still chained.
"You're very muscular," Lelandra said after a moment, breaking the silence. "You look so fearsome. I wish I was fearsome."
Rhalla chuckled without humor and replied in a rich tone. "Thank you, girl."
"I heard the fortress came under attack," Sunny made conversation as she bathed Rhalla. "I bet you were with them. You look like you know how to fight. You look like you'd be very brave." There was a slight pause in the conversation. "Were you here to attack the baron?"
"I was."
Lelandra met her eyes. "Why?"
"To put an end to what he's done to you and so many others," came the answer. "The Remorda Guardians are on your side."
"Wait, for us? You knew of us?" she whispered, and suddenly her eyes were bright with hope that had likely not been there for years. "People know about us? I thought we were a secret. How could you have known? How long have you known? Who told you? When? And wait, you're a Remorda Guardian? That means you have, like, legendary skills. I had no idea women even could be guardians, and I..." When Sunny realized she'd bombarded the woman with questions, she cleared her throat. "I'm sorry, I just... was curious."
"It's alright, girl." Rhalla let out a breath, answering two out of the horde of questions. "And women can be Remorda Guardians. I've been one for nearly fifteen years."
"How did they do it, then? Capture you, a Remorda Guardian? You're supposed to be invincible."
"No one's invincible," Rhalla said in a low tone. "The baron sent his best squadron after me --his elite. There were sixteen of them. I was able to kill some of them... unfortunately, not all. Not in time."
"All for you?" Lelandra asked. "Why?"
"Because he hates me." That was the short story.
"Oh," Lelandra had no idea what else to say at the moment. She continued washing Rhalla without another word. Meanwhile, Hench shut her eyes. The rag moved over her tightly muscled abdomen, down her biceps. Finally, Sunny spoke again as she re-soaked her washcloth, drawing Rhalla from her thoughts. "Do you have children?" she asked.
"One son. His name is Dane."
'That's a nice name," Sunny complimented. "How old is he?"
"Nearly seventeen years old now."
"And how old are you?"
"Nearly thirty."
Rhalla watched Lelandra do the math in her head. "But that means you had him when you were..."
"Thirteen," Hench finished.
That seemed to stun Lelandra. Normal girls don't have babies that young, the guardian could almost read the thought on Sunny's face. Rhalla watched her friend's eyes fall directly to her breasts now. Until that point, Sunny had avoided looking too closely at them. Her gaze went a bit further down, to the rib directly under them. The next touch wasn't of warm, rough cloth... but of skin. Light fingertips found and grazed the tattoo that read 323. The number was murmured on Lelandra's lips.
Then, there was understanding.
The hand fell. Sunny choked on her breath.
"Tell me," she didn't look at Rhalla's face. "Tell me you aren't who I think you are."
A husky laugh left Rhalla's throat. "Oh, I wish I could, girl."
Their gazes met.
"Cricket."
Rhalla nodded her head. "Unfortunately." Pause. "It has been a long time, Lelandra Lowan."
"But... but..." Suddenly, Sunny's eyes welled up with tears. "But you were free! You were free to live! You were free and had a second chance at everything good in life. You were free to raise your son, and you were free to be happy," she said. "Why in the world would you ever come back to this awful place?"
Rhalla answered without skipping a beat. "Because you weren't."
----
The reunion between Rhalla and Sunny was short-lived, however. Right after she'd been cleaned and dried, the missus for the women had come in to do her makeup and hair. Seeing her had always made Rhalla want to vomit back when she was thirteen. The reaction was no less the same. The missus had gotten older. Her skin was white and pasty, and her rouged cheeks sagged lower. Her red lips were cracked, and her once black hair was now salt and pepper.
No matter how much makeup she wore, it wouldn't cover up Rhalla's muscle. After the missus got through with the little she could do for the guardian, the men who were to escort her to the celebration came and retrieved her. She was pulled roughly behind them. They taunted her the whole way, but she shut out their words.
She was brought out into the middle of a large mess hall, where all the men cheered at seeing her in chains. Baron Riasion watched her entrance from a table in the front. He was heavily guarded at all sides. In the seat beside him, was Nealon Riasion. In the other seat, no one. Not yet. Sitting beside that empty place, was a strange man. Clad in black, but the rest of him was colorless. His hair was silver blonde.
So this was the sister of Iris, Ghost thought to himself in the meantime. She's far less subtle... looking. He stopped the thought in his head. He had bigger concerns. He'd been to camp the last two nights. He hadn't found Iris either trip. As a result, the baron had appointed guards for himself at all times, even during his rest. If she came, Riasion would be ready for her. He had made sure of that. If she came, Ghost would be ready too. She wouldn't take them unawares. Which meant she wouldn't take them at all, if she cared about the life of her sister and the women.
The baron turned to Nealon. "Where's your brother?" he asked him. "Where's William? It's near time for the toast."
Nealon shrugged. A flicker of a false smile played on his lips. "You know he's not one for parties. He's told me at least a thousand times that they're not productive. I imagine he's helping oversee the women in case something... happens."
The baron nodded. "I suppose you're right. Well..." He looked to where Rhalla was tied down for everyone to see. Her arms and legs were chained tight and her mouth was properly gagged. "...Seems we're ready to begin." He motioned to two of his whores at the end of the table.
On cue, they made their rounds. His favorite one, Allasia served his table of three the finest aged wine. Oh, Allasia was a beauty. He'd had her taken straight from Erutha. Of course, he couldn't understand a word the girl said, but it hardly mattered. Her hair was a deep wine red, her skin was as warm and tanned as the desert-land she'd come from, and her eyes were the most startling yellow-green. Perfection.
He waited until the other woman got finished with her rounds before he tapped his spoon against his glass. The goblet sung out a clear bell, clearing all the noise in the hall. Everyone focused on Riasion. "Look at us!" the old man called out. "Still here in this great hall! I must admit, last week, I was not so confident of this outcome! I was told that the Eldian army and the Remorda Guardians both marched for this fortress. Those are impossible odds for winning, aren't they? But here we are!" A few shouts and claps could be heard in response. "Yes, we're all still standing. We were pitted against two forces, and even the oh-so-mighty Iris Gwenneth and won." He gave Rhalla a vicious grin. "And even more than that, we've found a little lost princess. In our grasp, is the woman who brought them all here! Look at how strong she is." The baron tsked.
Rhalla felt anger as all the eyes fell upon her. Riasion kept taunting her. "Tonight, take heart, men! Tonight we show this beast of a woman where she truly belongs. Who she belongs to." There were more cheers. "Without further ado! A toast! A toast to good company and good business! A toast to welcome Miss Rhalla Gwenneth back home."
Rhalla watched with great rage as they all drank to her misery.
The baron signaled a third girl at the organ, who started playing joyful music. The party began. The men came alive with vicious glee, eating and drinking and well... the two serving girls were being passed around. Touched. Rhalla feared where it would lead. Some of the baron's men came to her to gloat... to spit at her... to promise terrible things. It was all good fun for them. Ten minutes past. Fifteen. Then, something happened. It started with something small, unnoticeable. A man coughed --cleared his throat, from somewhere in the room. And then two men. The song on the organ stopped. Suddenly, there were a lot of figurative frogs in throats. The quiet made them very noticeable.
The girl at the instrument switched songs. Suddenly, the music sounded very ominous indeed. A dark melody permeated the room, setting a new mood.
Rhalla stared at another man that had just come and stomped her feet. He started coughing like mad in front of her. All she could do in her position... was watch. When his fit was through, they both saw at the same time the sputum that covered his hands. Except it was far too red to be sputum. When he saw the blood, he touched his face again. Then, he looked at Rhalla. Blood trickled from his mouth and nose.
The first scream came from the middle of the room. It was loud and strangled --a gurgled cry. Then, scarlet was everywhere. Nealon, the baron, and Ghost were unaffected. The ones that had partaken of the wine served at the main table were the only ones unaffected by their drink. Baron Riasion watched with confused horror as all his men started choking. Rhalla was very confused too, for the time being. Nealon had his eyes shut, and Ghost looked very nonchalant.
And then, it happened. There was one in the middle of the room... a smaller man. He held his gut and let out a scream that sent swirls of terror through everyone. They watched as his throat exploded with projectile vomit. Undigested food came up first. When there was no more of that, it turned to gooey, chunky red matter. The soldier started retching and screaming when he saw what was leaving his body. He tried without success to hold it down.
He stared up in agony --begging someone for help with his expression, and everyone saw the streaks of scarlet that left his eye sockets. Material oozed from his ears. Screams permeated the air. The music haunted the room. It looked and sounded like a true nightmare come to life.
It kept coming from his belly until his belly was gone. He covered his mouth all the while, like that would save him. It ran through his fingers. He fell to the floor, twitching and seizing. The blood didn't stop pouring from his body, like a stopper had been yanked out somewhere inside. The meat of his vital organs and excrement came pooling from his trousers.
His last expression was a scream of misery. Brain was the last thing to pour from his nose in liquid clumps. Of course, the rest of the party had hardly watched all of that. Their bodies started dissolving from the inside out just the same, making it very hard to focus. It happened for the men at different rates. Some were quicker... some were slower to turn to grisly slosh.
The next ten minutes were the most terrible, sickening minutes to ever happen anywhere. Even Rhalla was nauseous in her chair, but she couldn't stop watching. Everyone was stunned to inaction, even up until all the victims lay dead. More than dead... every single person, mind for the women servants, Rhalla, and the main table... were all reduced to what could only be described as pulp on the floor. Even after death, they still melted away. The poison, once it was done with their insides, started melting holes in their skin, exposing empty cavities and bones.
The piano stopped on cue, letting the scene sink in. Of all deaths Rhalla had ever seen, this had been the most gruesome -the most hateful.
The baron finally choked a syllable, eyes wide with dread. "What..." It took a minute. "What is this?" He covered Nealon with an arm, as if that would protect him from the poison.
Ghost gave a casual answer, the only one unfazed. "I believe that would be Black Widow."
"And what is Black Widow?"
"Very potent poison, made from the extract of Widow's Root and Blackthorn, along with an assortment of minor ingredients. That extract produces enzymes that destroy the body from the inside out, ruining blood so that it never stops running and then liquidizing all their organs. Kind of like when a spider bites its prey. It's the goop they suck out. Very few people know how to make Black Widow successfully. It's arduous, even though most the ingredients are relatively easy to find. You have to do it just right." His tone was still conversational. "The production is illegal in some countries. This is the most excruciating poison a poison-maker can hope to make."
The baron spat. "Why? Why did you do this?"
"Me?" Ghost motioned to himself. "Are you daft? I wasn't paid to kill this many people."
The baron took a breath. "Then. Who." A question they all had, even Rhalla.
The large double doors opened to the mess hall, revealing a lone figure. Everyone's eyes turned. It was a woman. She was dressed completely in pitch-black silks that fell just past her knees. The lapels cut dangerously down her pale chest, showing off an alluring array of curves. Her arms were tightly sleeved, cutting V's at her hands. Her nails were filed to sharp talons and lacquered a shiny black. Even her long curls were the color of a moonless night. The only color visible was a splash of painted red mouth.
A human depiction of a black widow spider.
Without further ado, she lightly pulled up her skirt to avoid getting it dirty. Her legs were even hosed completely in black. Matching boots stepped over the gore of her victims, the thick heels of them clicking on the marble of the floor.
Everyone watched Iris Gwenneth approach the main table in silent revulsion. Even Rhalla Gwenneth was a little terrified of what she saw. It was mainly in Iris's face. There was a shadow of malice in her sister's eyes that had never been there before. Like someone had taken Iris and distorted her into something entirely different.
Rhalla saw Iris and immediately knew that something inside of her had gone very dark since the last time they'd spoken. Some light in her soul had recently snuffed out, leaving this behind. Hench looked at the mushy bodies on the floor -the very tortured dead. Iris had done this. She had done this. Oh gods, what had she done? Hench had surely wanted them killed but... This was more than death. This was a massacre. The mighty woman might have wanted them to suffer as well but... could she have truly done it? Could she have truly been so cruel, when it came down to it?
The rogue smiled a deadly smile at Baron Riasion that was mostly just pulling her lips off her teeth. It was a mouth's curve downward away from being a snarl.
The baron was the first to speak. "You."