Eden-South (17 page)

He stopped momentarily before turning to
leave. She breathed a sigh of relief. Then she watched in horror as
he stopped again, his boots turning back to her room and walking in
this time. He stood in the middle of the room, listening. She shut
her eyes, praying he would not look under the bed. The boots were
large, black leather boots, and he wore the dark black pants of the
army. She knew what they did to women, especially young girls like
her. He started to turn again, when suddenly the bed flew off the
floor, exposing her hiding place. She screamed out, jumping up and
heading toward the bedroom door. He was too quick, blocking her
path and causing her to crash into his large chest. He must have
been almost six and a half feet tall, his chest solid like a rock.
His dark beard was cut short to his face, framing two perfectly
shaped lips. Shaking, she looked up into his eyes, and almost
screamed. They were black, like a demon’s. His hair was also black
as night, tied back into a ponytail. His face was a mask of
intimidation. He looked down at her without saying a word, seeming
to look over every detail of her face.

Rose was only sixteen that year. She had
grown up in the village her whole life, alongside her brother,
Felix, who had gone to join the King’s army. She was taller than
most of the girls in the village, standing five foot seven. The
other girls her age were smaller, and often made fun of her for
being tall. She had long red hair, reaching down to her lower back,
and emerald eyes that everyone said popped out of her porcelain
face. The men in the village constantly asked for her hand in
marriage, but her father said he wasn’t ready to lose her yet.
Their father was the village’s blacksmith, a well-respected
man—
or had been,
she thought heavily. Her heart hurt at the
thought of her parents. Felix wouldn’t even know for days that they
were gone. She wished then that he was there with them. Maybe he
would have been able to protect them.

“Please let me go,” she pleaded, fresh tears
building in her eyes. “Please …”

The man still hadn’t spoken, not even a
smirk, or a mocking laugh like the rest of them. He continued to
stare down at her, holding each wrist in a firm grasp. Her legs
began to feel weak, and buckled under her. He held her up, however,
keeping his hold on her. Without saying a word, he began dragging
her out of the room by one arm. She screamed, reaching out with the
free one to hold onto the door jamb. He pulled on her, ripping her
grip from the frame, and dragging her farther out into the hall. As
they neared the stairs, she reached for the handrail, anything to
stop him. Growing impatient, he threw her over his shoulder,
walking her down the stairs while she screamed and kicked wildly.
Another man was standing outside their home when they emerged into
the night air. The smoke was so thick that Rose began to cough as
soon as she took a breath.

The other man laughed when he looked at her.
“Well, well, what have we got here? A treat?” he joked. Her body
started to convulse at the thought of what they would do to her.
The man was just as large as the one who carried her, but his face
had the mocking look like most of them wore, and a large scar
covered his left cheek. His hair was blonde, braided down his back,
and his beard was also braided down to his collarbone. She could
see the excitement in his eyes as he approached them.

“No one is to touch this one,” the one who
carried her commanded. She saw the blonde one react immediately.
His mannerism gave the impression that the one who held her had
seniority over the blonde.

“Yes, sir,” he replied obediently.

“Take her to the camp,” he instructed,
dropping Rose to the ground. She landed with a thump, pushing
herself up instantly to run away. They were too quick for her, each
grabbing an arm and forcing her down.

“Where you going, sweetheart?” The blonde
one smiled. He pulled a rope out of somewhere Rose couldn’t see and
tied her hands behind her back. She screamed for help, but no one
was there to aid her. Bodies lay on the streets, some with cuts in
their throats so bad their heads were almost severed. Other women
were being thrown into a wagon, each crying for mercy. The blonde
man pulled her toward the wagon, throwing her in with the rest of
them. She frantically looked for her mother, but the only girls
there were the younger ones. Tears still ran fresh down her face;
her mind and body were frozen in shock.

“Rose?” she heard someone say softly. She
turned to see a young girl named Shauna; she was only thirteen that
year, and Rose could see her clothes were torn everywhere. She had
a black eye, and cuts along her arm. Rose shuddered at the thought
of what had happened to the young girl that night.

“Come here,” she said in a hoarse voice. She
held her arms open, and the girl scooted over to her, resting her
head on Rose’s shoulder. Rose embraced her, and they stayed like
that in silence for the whole ride.

“Fresh meat!” a man yelled as they entered
the camp. It was a makeshift camp of small tents, men were
everywhere around multiple fires. They glared at the girls with
hungry eyes. She felt sick, and closed her eyes to say a silent
prayer to the Goddess for protection. Surely, after all the deaths
and destruction that night, surely someone would help them. They
couldn’t be left to these men and their perverse desires. The wagon
suddenly stopped, and another man came around to the back, opening
the door.

“Let’s go,” he barked. Rose kept her head
down, and her arm around Shauna. The poor girl was trembling
violently. She whispered encouraging words in her ear, telling her
everything would be all right. It was a lie—she knew it. It already
wasn’t all right, but Rose felt an obligation to be the strong one
now. She couldn’t let herself fall apart, or everything that was
left of her would be lost. Her parents would be watching her now,
alongside the God and Goddess, and her father would certainly be
telling her to be brave. Right away, the women were separated into
two tents. Thankfully, Rose and Shauna were able to stay together.
They sat at the back of the tent in two small balls. Rose kept her
arms around Shauna, creating whatever shield she could from the
horrors that awaited them.

“We have to get out of here,” Shauna
whispered. Rose looked down in shock. It was impossible. There were
too many men, all trained by Brutus the Red, and therefore the best
of the best. It was impossible, she thought again. Shauna sat up to
look at her better; her eyes were wild, causing Rose to flinch
backward. She looked simply mad—her hair was wild, and her nose
flared. “We need to escape, Rose, or we’ll never survive,” she said
urgently.

“You try to escape, and you’ll most
definitely not survive,” another girl said, overhearing their
conversation.

“I wasn’t talking to you!” she snapped.

Rose placed a reassuring hand on the girl’s
arm, keeping her voice low and calm. “Shauna, she’s right. It can’t
be done. There are too many men. We’ll be seen, and they wouldn’t
hesitate to kill us on the spot, or worse …” The words hung in the
air. Rose knew deep in her heart that worse had already happened to
the girl. The idea of an escape was all she had left, but it
couldn’t be done. “Let us rest now, and see what the morning
brings,” she suggested, opening her arms again. Shauna sat up, her
eyes still wild with panic, but as the seconds passed, Rose could
see the realization hit her that Rose was right. An understanding
hit her, causing the poor young thing to break down in tears,
burying her face in Rose’s shoulder. She hushed her softly,
stroking her tangled hair.

There were twenty of them in that tent. She
wasn’t sure how many had been brought to the other, but no one else
came for them. Eventually, they all fell asleep, the events of the
night finally catching up with them. It wasn’t until a few hours
later that Rose jolted awake. Sitting up, she looked around slowly,
letting the reality hit her again. She turned to look beside her,
and saw that Shauna was no longer there. She was nowhere inside the
tent. Cursing, Rose got up, stepping over the other bodies that lay
around the tent floor, and pulled back the flaps of the tent just
enough for her to see outside. Shauna was two tents down, hiding
behind the corner as three men passed by. Rose wanted to yell out,
but it would bring attention not only to Shauna, but to her as
well.

As the men disappeared, Shauna took off
around the corner, disappearing from her view. Rose fought with
herself, before deciding on the right course of action. Creeping
out into the darkness, she kept close to the tents, looking each
way before crossing the lanes between them. She reached the spot
where Shauna had been in seconds. She was breathing heavily now,
adrenaline coursing through her body. Looking around the corner,
she couldn’t see the girl anywhere. A group of men sat around a
fire only about twenty feet away, clearly drunk. Their voices were
loud, and they sung battle songs repeatedly. Making sure they
weren’t looking, she began to crouch along the other side of the
tent, knowing if one of them should happen to look her way, she
would be easy enough to see. The light from the campfire
illuminated the area she was in perfectly. She prayed the whole
time that none of them would look as she moved as quickly as she
could. When she reached the outside tents of the camp, she could
see a river not far off, and a small figure running toward it. By
the shadow of the wild hair, she knew it was Shauna. Breathing a
sigh of relief, she looked around quickly before running after her,
keeping low in the tall grass that surrounded the river. They were
actually going to do it, she thought, laughing. They would actually
escape whatever lay behind them, and would have each other to find
help with.

“Shauna!” she whispered. The girl stopped
before the river, turning to look at Rose. The moon shone off her
white teeth as she smiled at Rose’s approach. Throughout her
journey, Rose had been so focused on Shauna’s figure, she had
failed to notice the other shadow that grew nearer to her. Before
she could yell out a warning, a man stood behind the young girl,
slicing quickly across her neck. A gurgling sound filled the air as
Shauna fell to the ground. Rose let out a horrified scream,
dropping to the ground where she stood. The man slowly approached
her, his blade hanging by his side. She could still see the body
lying by the river, and tears began to flow again. Death would come
to her next. At that point she welcomed it. Everything was too much
for her. So many people she had known and loved were gone—she
couldn’t save any of them, not even poor Shauna.

“Please, just kill me,” she sobbed, keeping
her eyes on the body by the river, avoiding the man who stood in
front of her. “Please …” she pleaded. The man was silent. Looking
up, she recognized him right away. He wore the same detached look
he had when he took her from her home. “I can’t handle this,” she
spoke directly to him. “She was only thirteen, and never hurt a
soul.” She began to cry harder, feeling a hole in her chest where
everyone she had known had once been.

Crouching down in front of her, the man
reached out and grabbed her chin. Tilting her head up, she looked
at him in his dark eyes. “Trying to escape is an instant punishment
of death,” he spoke in a rich voice. It didn’t have the same accent
as most of the northern men. The accent was more refined.
This
must be the man from the Capital City who’s in league with
Brutus,
she thought. The prince who hadn’t won his crown.

“Then kill me,” she spoke back. “I don’t
want to live like this.” He didn’t say anything back. Bringing his
other hand up, he reached for her face again, drying the tears on
her cheeks. She sat still, waiting for the blow that would end it
all. It didn’t come. Instead, he lifted her up and walked her back
to the camp, keeping a tight hold on her wrists the whole time. A
soldier came out to meet them, clearly afraid of the consequences
of losing a girl.

“My lord,” he began, his voice shaking. “We
didn’t see her leave.”

“Clearly,” the man replied. “Perhaps if you
men didn’t cloud your judgement with wine all night, simple girls
wouldn’t be able to get past you.” The look the other man gave her
was one that could kill. She would certainly be punished for
bringing this shame on him. She froze under his look, wishing she
could turn around and run. If she died while doing so, she wouldn’t
care. The prince who held her noticed as well, understanding the
future that awaited her. “Bring this one to my tent. I will deal
with her myself.” Disappointment visibly filled the other’s face,
but he nodded his head dutifully. Taking her hands, he dragged her
to a larger tent that sat on the other side of the encampment.

Inside was filled from floor to ceiling with
things. Maps were laid out on a large table, weapons leaned up
against the sides of the room, armour sat scattered around the
tent, and candles sat on every surface, casting a low glow about
the tent. On the left side was a large bed, covered with fur
blankets and numerous pillows. There was even a large rug on the
ground, making it feel less like a tent and more like a room you’d
find in a palace. The man tossed her inside and told her to sit
until someone came for her. She walked over to a chair that was in
front of the large desk and sat down. The man followed, tying her
hands to the back of the chair so she couldn’t run again. He left
then, and she sat alone amongst the prince’s things. Looking over
at the desk, she saw a large map of Eden unrolled with lines drawn
on it. She assumed these were their routes, since all lines led to
the Capital City. Her heart beat faster as she thought about her
poor brother who was living there.

The flaps opened again, and he walked in,
throwing down his sword with the rest of the weapons and taking off
the fur vest he had been wearing against the cold. His upper body
was bare now, letting Rose see every muscle in his chest. He was
extremely fit, larger than most men she had seen from Capital City.
The northern life had affected him. He had scars everywhere as
well, most likely from training. Rose knew that the army’s training
in the mountains was very intense. They never held back, never used
blunt weapons for practice. Everything was done as if they were in
a real battle, so men were often injured. He walked over to her,
going around behind the chair, and sliced the ropes with a small
dagger he held in his hands. She could feel her anxiety rising, her
mind racing through all the things he’d have planned for her.
Blinking back tears, she kept her head held high, refusing to show
him any fear. He looked down at her for a minute, his bare skin
close to her face, but then he turned and walked toward the bed.
Her breathing quickened. She was scared more than she wanted to
admit. She had never lain with a man before and would have died
rather than do it now with this tyrant.