Redemption (Dawn of the Damned Book 1) (7 page)

“This is outrageous..!”

“Lords of the court, I ask that you practice your humanity in this case..” Kjeld attempted again.

“You dare defend her, yet she fed on you as though you’re just a..”
half-blood
, he meant to say, but luckily stopped in time.

These were the troubled times of reform. On the brink of war, with the half-blood population grown so much that though considerably weaker than the pure-bloods, they could effectively overpower them, the only thing left to happen had. The hardliners had caved in, and half-bloods were now essentially equals to pure-bloods. They may even now hold office in the Draugr political system.

There were no half-blood governors as yet, who are automatically also members of the High Council. But as per the new laws, a third of the council must be half-bloods at all times, so before him sat five half-bloods listening to his account, and in the crowd, witnessing all this, were half-bloods triple the number of pure-bloods present. Times had changed a great deal, and old timers like Mazu Mazoki must now tread carefully, for pure-bloods no longer ruled this race of beings.

“She did not feed on me, she attacked me, and rightly so, for she is as a caged animal at the moment,” Kjeld stated with firm resolve.

“I find it rather unsettling that a member of the High Council should stand before us and play witness to an accused. We as members of the council ought to be neutral!” Chao Ming, governor of Area Four called.

“The accused cannot act as her own witness as..”

“Yes, we all know!” Mazu interrupted to say. “She so detests all that we are that she attempted to fry herself to death. You insist on us proceeding with the case in her absence while she recovers. I will consider that only if you return to your seat, Governor Bjarnessen, and herewith proceed as an impartial judge.”

Kjeld looked to Jon with defeat, knowing that he must resume his responsibilities. It was now up to Jon to attempt to persuade the High Council to Anja’s favour. A simple majority would do. There was no doubt that all the five half-bloods would decide in her favour, as would Kjeld and Anja’s half-brother, however that only made seven from a council of fifteen. One more had to be swayed, and therein lay the greatest trouble.

The rest of the High Council members were mostly old timers, set in pure-bloods that resented the new way of life, and the
unnecessary
power given to half-bloods. A resentful people looking to take out their frustrations on the new order on any half-blood that chanced to step out of line. In this case, Anja was to face their wrath.

Jon was well aware of what grave a responsibility it was that had now fallen to his shoulders. That, as well as the guilt of having found love and happiness while she, contrary to his expectations, had gone on suffering from her memories in silence- that guilt alone was pressure enough. Now burdened by the knowledge that she’d rather fry herself to death, break her bones and persevere an immensely painful death than live another day, the task was most profound.

“Consider her past, and the traumas she went through as a child..”

“Tell us something else other than that washed out sob story. Her brother saved her, didn’t he? He even went as far as to kill his own father for that..”

“Yes, he saved her. But too late, I fear, for the trauma yet remains there,” Jon proceeded to say, a heavy guilt settling over himself as he saw Ejner’s face crumble in the realisation that he’d let it all go on for as long as he had. Jon was further saddened by this, as he’d never meant to make her brother feel guilty, for he had acted out, and most sternly so, as soon as he’d found out.

“She was but six. She was sure to forget..”

“Yes, just six, and before she could heal from that she was thrust into an abusive home..”

“You were raised in the same home, yet you came back and paid your penance, and didn’t go gorging yourself on pure-bloods..”

“I would have gorged myself on even more pure-bloods than she has, if I’d been sexually abused, and never given time and room to heal emotionally, before I became someone’s daily snack!” Jon snapped angrily.

The charged crowd of half-bloods now cheered him on, empathising with the revelation. However, Jon knew that few of them had gone through the childhood he had. Maybe just a quarter, but the very idea that one of their own had suffered under the injustice, and the knowledge that many more had been unable to get out for decades, some remaining as blood slaves for near centuries, was enough to give fire to their cause.

“What do you advocate, young man?” A pure-blood council member now asked. Rumour was that he’d only lived a single century. He’d be the easiest to turn to his side, being yet so young.

“Pardon!” Jon called out without a moment’s hesitation. At first, it was silence that resonated in the large council room, then cheerful chantings from the crowd behind him, and loud arguments began from the council members before him.

“How dare you ask for a pardon..?”

“For the very same reason that I do not ask for the heads of Lord and Lady Gunnarsen this very moment.”

The crowd’s cheering was a mangled frenzy at that moment, the charged air dangerous, as half-bloods now realised that they did have power to make such seemingly outrageous requests as Jon just had. And why shouldn’t they? They questioned among themselves. They were equals now, weren’t they. And just as easily as the pure-bloods could accuse them and bring them before the courts, so could they.

“Are you threatening..”

“Yes,” Jon said firmly. “Yes, I’m threatening to call the Gunnarsen before the courts and have them seat on trial for child molestation and..”

“This is outrageous!” Another pure-blood called out. A young one too it seemed, a couple hundred years old or so, but his arrogant face and snobby demeanor told Jon that he was not okay with the changing times. A rather disappointing reaction, for Jon had thought that he might be equally as easy to persuade to his cause as the other.

“How dare you threaten the High Council? We are the leading governing body!”

“I know that, my Lords. We all know that, but we also know that we people have a power too. Here is a damaged little girl, for that is what she essentially is, who on her formative years was subjected to so much abuse. Think if it was your own flesh and blood.. pure-blood flesh and blood,” Jon rushed on to add, remembering on time that some of these old fools don’t consider their half-blood children as their own, though they sired them.

“Think if this happened to your beloved children,” he emphasised again, this time his eyes falling on his father-in-law, and Jon realised that the borderline cruel pure-blood might actually be the single vote he’d need to sway to save Anja from the damnation her assault on Kjeld might have led her into.

The great Mazu Mazoki’s soft spot for his daughter might be the swing vote required, so Jon tapped into that.

“I knew this girl- I know her. She was my bestfriend..”

“Lover!” Someone called out, to which Jon shook his head in denial.

“Never. You see so greatly is she tormented, that I could never be a real friend to her. I couldn’t even hold her hand, leave alone wipe off a slipped tear, because she was so tormented that even though I was the closest thing to her, she could never allow me to touch her.”

This stunned the whole courtroom into silence.

“To this date, Anja of Nordskov cowers away from touch. This girl is broken, and is still the child that was molested by her father- she never healed. She never grew past that. Now prove to all of us that you do indeed consider us equals, and grant her the mercy she most certainly deserves!”

And with that final punchline, the blow was delivered. Now should they decide to proceed with prosecuting her, the half-blood population would be wild with anger, for Jon had insinuated that that would only happen because they were not in fact their equals, as it was being preached.

This matter had moved from being a simple criminal case to a political decision that could shake the very foundation of their newly reformed society. Should they vote against a pardon, the a hundred or so half-bloods here would be more than willing to show their allegiance to one of their own.

Jon had successfully tied up the hands of the revered High Council.

“Pardon!”

“Pardon!”

One by one the reluctant calls sounded, the crowd cheering each time. Apart from two votes, Anja was pardoned in absentia.

Now just to go to Pendo who’d witnessed all this, and convince her that his passion in the case did not stem from any lingering feelings for Anja, as she might wish to believe.

Women do tend to have wild imaginations when they choose to.

Anja didn’t want to open her eyes, she wouldn’t because she did not want to wake up and find herself still of this world.

They were talking to her, voices that she’d blocked her mind from recognising. They were nursing her back to health, because she hadn’t succeeded in escaping. Even her last resort had backfired on her face. Here she was again, still alive and kicking.

They’d attempted to force her to feed, but she’d denied it completely, clamping her jaw so tightly shut that not even pure-bloods could crack it open without breaking her jaw.

She’d hoped that they’d eventually leave her alone and let her starve. She hadn’t been so lucky though, for now they had her fastened with thick multi-layered straps that didn’t let her budge a muscle, and in her arm was a drip allowing for nutrients and blood transfusion into her system.

They seemed determined to keep her alive, and she was determined for anything but. With her life no longer in her own hands, all she had to herself  now was her mind. There once was a philosopher Jon liked to talk about, that coined that one could die just by sheer will. Granted, he had been talking about the human race, nonetheless she was determined to will herself to death. It didn’t matter how long it took- she would just lie there, close her eyes, sing in her head so as not to hear a thing, and chant out death’s name continually, until death finally heeded her call.

“Let me try,” Jon said to his brother. “She’d easier open up to me that to you..”

“I highly doubt it. You left her alone and went and got yourself a happily ever after..”

“Watch your words, brother!” Jon said curtly, turning in time to see his beloved Pendo wince at Kjeld’s words. She’d been subject to a lot of emotional turmoil throughout this ordeal, and often Jon feared that she’d soon up and walk away, citing that she did not sign up for all this.

“The bond Anja and I share is more than a case of jilted love can break!” The half-blood brother now pronounced with great intent, meeting the steely gaze of his brother of equally great height.

“Now why don’t you leave us alone, and let me try undo that which you and your parents..?” Kjeld stepped back in deep anger, his fists firmly folded as he’d feared he’d hit his brother.

But why should he be so angry at hearing Jon’s words? They were true, that much he knew. He never stood up for her, he never was strong enough to resist the offered delicacy that was her blood. To this date, whenever he got close enough to catch her scent, he remembered that intoxicating scent, and the delicious fullness of her blood swirling in his mouth, tantalising his taste buds, right before he’d take it in.

His feelings for his parent’s ward had long grown from a delicious snack, to more, much more. And as a teenager, it had eaten at him that she’d preferred Jon’s company, smiled at Jon’s jokes, and searched for his eyes whenever she was scared after his father shouted out.

He never did understand why she didn’t come to him, yet he was stronger, yet he was a pure-blood, and according to the norms then, ought to have been the more desirable. Plus, Jon was born not only of a servant, but a slave servant, a nigger slave servant! Back then, those things had mattered, at least in the society Kjeld frequented, and he hadn’t understood why Anja would prefer his brother, who’d only bring her lower in society were they ever to marry, while he, Kjeld Gunnarsen, would have elevated her place in society. He didn’t just want to make her a mistress like most pure-bloods preferred to do with half-bloods. He intended to marry her, and make her Lady Gunnarsen one day.

But contrary to all he’d thought, Anja wanted none of that. In fact it was that afternoon when he decided to come join them and attempt to woo her from his brother, that he overheard and understood just how much their feeding on her each night affected her. He never thought it was so- yes he knew that it could be painful, but he didn’t think it tortuous and tormenting. Those are two different entities.

It was upon hearing her shaky whisper as she confided in his brother, that Kjeld needed no more incentive to decide right there and then that he would never let his parents feed from her again. He didn’t care what they said or did to him, he didn’t even fear his father’s temper, or his almost consuming hunger for her. He’d make sure that no one ever fed from her again.

And then he heard it- their plans to get away together. His brother’s plans to take the one girl he’d loved since he could remember away from him forever.

“Alright,” Kjeld said with resignation. “You talk to her. She always loved you better. She still loves you,” Kjeld finished bitterly as he headed for the door, his shoulders slumped with defeat. It was the truth after all.

Jon looked after his brother’s departing figure for a long time, even after the door swung shut after him.

He then turned away to find Pendo studying him deeply, her cute forehead furrowed, her arms moving about busily and dutifully to wipe down Anja, who’s figure lay still, immobilised in place by thick straps.

“He still cares for her,” Pendo said, moving to place a moistened cloth on Anja’s forehead. Jon had told her all about his life in the Gunnarsen family home, his half-brother’s obsession with Anja, who had then been his.

“He’s obsessed with her, that’s what worries me.”

“He’s a kind pure-blood..”

“I know. But we are all bloodthirsty predators, and when obsession for a weaker being comes before love, then there’s a serious problem. He cannot be trusted..”

“Others would argue you are almost equally obsessed..”

“You cannot mean that,” Jon then cut in, meeting her beautiful eyes made up of rings of different shades of brown. “You know I care for her..”

“Like a sister! yes, I try remind myself that despite..”

“Despite nothing, Pendo. Anything else, please, but never doubt my feelings for you.” Jon watched with satisfaction as her eyes now mellowed, and the beautiful rings of brown soon got even newer shades. It was always fascinating to perceive just how many shades of brown her eyes were capable of adopting.

“Do not listen to your father especially. After I advocated for her, I was so scared that he’d force me to break up with you.”

“Yes, father is convinced that you yet care for her.”

“I’m too scared to face him again. I fear he’s the most formidable pure-blood I ever met..” Pendo laughed heartily at this.

“You should be scared. I doubt he has a compassionate bone in him, other than for me, that is,” she said, moving around the table so as to come close to him. He leaned in lower and placed a passionate kiss on her lips.

“Would you two resume your romancing elsewhere but by my bedside!”

Jon smiled to himself, but Pendo smiled openly. She’d read in on his intentions. They could have held that discussion later, when in private, but Jon had decided to do it in here to see if jealousy would rouse Anja to break out of her mental shell. Jon had tried every other way to get her to speak- love, recounting happy memories of the century they spent together, anger, shouting at her, pain, recounting the dark days in Rockfort manor, until he’d finally resorted to jealousy, her lingering feelings for him.

He said nothing, but Pendo knew to leave right then, as Jon walked closer to the bed.

“Anja..”

“Please let me go.”

“You are free to go. You’ve been pardoned by the High Council..” Her eyes now flew wide open.

“What?” She whispered with disbelief, and Jon chuckled under his throat.

“You’re free. You were pardoned. Under one condition though-” Now her brow furrowed. “You have to report in to the Governor of the region you are abiding in on the last day of every month. Physically, not by phone call or any of those modern advancements.”

“I’m free to go?”

“You are.. Anja..?” He called with confusion as she attempted to get up, but the straps kept her tied down.

“Let me out of these straps this instant! I am free, aren’t I?”

“You are, but..”

“But what?” Her eyes narrowed again with suspicion.

“I hoped you’d want to stay with us for at least a month because..”

“Let me out of these straps, Jon! I’m free, aren’t I?”

Jon knew he had no choice but to do as she said.

“We can help you get a new identity and all,” he was saying as he loosened one strap and moved on to another. “We can also help you with getting a new life back, an apartment, a better job..”

“I don’t want anything from you,” she ground out.

“Well, maybe your brother..”

“What about Ejner?”

“You could go stay with him. He also expressed a wish to reconnect with you..”

“Just set me free, Jon of Gunnarsen!” She threw out his name like the insult she meant it, and his reaction was only partly gratifying. She hated hurting him, that was sure, because deny it as she may, she still cared for him deeply.

The final strap came loose, and Anja wasted no time pulling out the drip in her arm, jumping out of the beddings, to find herself stark naked.

She grabbed at a soft cotton sheet and tied it around herself, and before Jon could manage to say another word, she rushed out of the room. She never stopped running, bounding down the stairs with so much urgency, shoving out of her way anyone and anything she found, breaking into the bright sunshine outside, glistening against the thin ice on the ground.

“Anja!” She thought she heard a voice call behind her. Kjeld.

She never stopped though, ran on, ignoring the gate, leaping over the electric fence like she’d attempted to the first time. Most of her strength still her own, as she wasn’t bleeding her life’s essence away like last time, she made it over the thirty feet electric fence, landing expertly on her feet on the other side, hitting the ground running.

Where to, was not of importance at the moment. What and who from is all that mattered.

Here was yet another burst of freedom that she’d been granted, and this time she did not intend to lose it. And there was only one way to ensure that she never lost it again.