Monday, May 8, 2017

The Uncrucified [ALPHA] - Ch.7 - Blood and Jasmine


RATING: R
- Language
- Violence
- Slavery
- Physical Abuse

The next day began like any other, or it would have if Kalara hadn’t slept in by a few minutes.  She was late in preparing Sana’s tea by nearly ten minutes, a fact which quickly earned her a chiding as she knelt by the table and served the tea.

“What’s wrong with you, girl?”  Sana scolded in a huff. “You’re late!”  Her keen eyes moved over Kalara’s unkempt hair and hastily assembled robes.  “Wipe your face, you’re a mess!  What have I told you about appearing improperly in my presence?”  She threw a handkerchief at Kalara, who quickly did as she was told to remove whatever it was Sana didn’t like.

Sana raised a brow at the strange mix of leftover khol and gold dust left in the handkerchief before waving Kalara off with a testy motion of her hand.  Kalara quickly bowed, knowing better than to say anything else when Sana was in such a mood. 


The rest of the day unfolded normally with market trips, errands, cleaning, etc., Kalara happy to return to some semblance of a normal routine after the excitement of the past month.  By now, Varia would have collected his winnings at the bank.  He had enough now that she didn’t have to worry about being sold again nor surprise visits from dangerous men with ill intentions.

Or at least, that was the pleasant fiction she lived in for nearly an entire day until she heard a knock at the door of her quarters.  Sana had left for her late afternoon committee meeting, Kalara finally enjoying a moment or two to herself before she was interrupted.  It was Rij summoning her to the carriage like always.  Kalara couldn’t believe it.  They were going to another game so soon?

“Aaaah, my girl!”  Varia greeted her happily.  “It suits you!”  He looked to the necklace she’d donned, pleased that she continued to wear it.

Kalara nodded.  Even if she thought it was foolish to go again so soon, she relished a chance to wear her gift openly again.  “Varia…” She dared to voice concern.  “Don’t you think it’s dangerous to go so soon?”

“Oh, tch tch!” He waved off her concern and lit his pipe, per usual. “You have to understand what happened last night.  Luraname truly blessed me when I won on my own, when I was at my most hopeless!”  His eyes gleamed with excitement as he leaned towards her, gripping her hands. “Now is the time to win even bigger!  Don’t you see?  The gods favor us!”

Kalara nodded, for what else could she do?  She knew this was the fate of all gambling men.  She tried to fool herself that he was right, that there was no reason for concern, for what other choice did she have?

Sure enough, Varia was hot at the tables that night, so much so that he bet a pot of all his winnings.  When Kalara moved to serve him a signal, however, he held up a hand, motioning her to stay in her place.  She could barely process what he was doing.  Did he want to win on his own?

“The gods favor me!” He pronounced to the table, sure of the cast of his dice.  Kalara realized he wanted to win on his own this time.  What was he thinking?  She stayed in her place with the other servants, her heart in her throat.  He would come around when he started losing again.  He had to, for what other good was she to him, otherwise?

Luckily for Cynis Varia, he was right.  He won the pot and went home with an extra bag full of money and a belly full of wine.  He gifted Kalara her favorite plate of dates and hazelnut sweets he knew she liked, though he was perplexed when she barely ate any of them.

Once more, she and Varia separated ways before entering the house, Kalara making her way through the side door to the servants’ quarters and Varia entering through the front.  Kalara wondered how many more nights would be like this, how long his precious god would favor him.  Most of all, she wondered how long he would need his Lucky Charm.  She took the necklace off with a sigh, staring at the jade twirling above her hands before stepping through the door of her quarters.

Waiting for her seated on the bed in her quarters was Cynis Sana, a steel glint in her eyes and a gold dusted handkerchief clutched tightly in her hand.  When Kalara entered, Sana rose from the bed and turned to her.  Kalara quickly tried to hide the necklace, but she was too late.  Sana approached her, her gaze like stone as she painfully gripped Kalara’s wrist and forced her to raise her hand where she could see.

The necklace dangled there, a telltale sign of something larger Sana had begun to piece together in her mind.  Kalara could only stare at her, panicked, her posture apologetic while Sana tore the pendant from her fingers. 

“Please, mistress, I can expl-“ The hard slap to the face caught Kalara off guard, knocking her backwards so that she stumbled onto the floor.  Kalara felt the wind from Sana as she marched past her fallen form and cut a sure swath through the household directly to her husband.

Frightened, Kalara pressed herself against the wall between the closet and her bed and curled in a little ball there on the floor.  She held her knees tight against her chest and awaited the inevitable.  The slap had split her lip and caused her teeth to bite the inside of her mouth, but she didn’t care.  She could hear the far-off yelling between Sana and Varia on the other side of the house.  What was coming was worse.  She rocked back and forth awaiting Sana’s fated return.

And return she did.  Sana burst through the doorway, her chest heaving in a rage and her perfect porcelain face red with fury.  In her hand, she held Her Sharp Tongue.

Sana marched with purpose towards Kalara, grabbing the slave by the turf of her hair and yanking her up to her feet.  She gave not a care as she dragged her young slave kicking and screaming out the door, through the hallway, and into the parlor where she had caught Varia in his lie.  Upon seeing Kalara, Varia visibly tensed, his eyes widening.

“What are you doing, Sana?  This is unnecessary!”  Varia tried to run up and calm his wife, but she continued dragging a wailing Kalara through the room knocking over vases and tables without a care.  He couldn’t stop her as she ruthlessly threw the girl on the ground.

“No, Varia!”  Sana whirled on Varia, slapping away his hands and crying.  “I smelled the rose on you.  I saw her makeup on your collar last night!”  She shouted hysterically, sobbing between words.  “You’re gambling again…and worst of all, you’re fucking this ungrateful little whore!”  She spat back at Kalara again, who flinched at the motion and curled deeper into a protective ball.  All the while, Varia tried to placate Sana, but to no avail.

“How could you?”  Sana sobbed, her voice quieter, but still deadly serious.  “How could you do this?”

“Sana…please!”  Varia had his hands in the air in a placating motion, carefully trying to position himself between Kalara and his crazed wife. “Yes, I was gambling, but I didn’t touch her!  I would never!”

Sana only shook her head back and forth as he talked, not believing a word of it.  As soon as he was done with his explanation, she shot towards Kalara again, grabbing the hem of her collar, pulling hard and tearing at the girl’s clothing until she bared her back, paying no care to how she exposed the rest of her as she did so.

“Do it then, Varia…”  Sana stood upright, turning to face Varia.  She forced the bone whip into his hand, still holding one of Kalara’s arms in a vice grip as she stared down her husband.  Meanwhile, the girl’s cries fell on deaf ears. 

With one last spiteful motion, Sana left the instrument in Varia’s hand and threw Kalara down again.  Instinctively, Kalara tried to gather her disheveled clothing to cover herself.

“Please, Varia…”  Kalara pushed the words out through her sobs.  She watched helplessly as he moved in front of his wife so that his shadow enveloped her prostrate form.  On his face, he wore an unreadable expression, regretful, but determined.  His knuckles whitened as he gripped the thin carved switch.  Other members of the household had already begun to gather at the surreal scene of horror unfolding in the middle of their decadently furnished household, now a ruin of disheveled furniture.

For a moment, Kalara hoped against hope that the pause meant he had changed his mind, but then the first strike came, then a second and a third.  At first, she tried to ball herself tighter to weather them, but that only bared her back even more.  She had a brief reprieve while Varia turned to his wife.

“Is this not enough?”  She heard him say.  “What do you want me to do, kill her?!”

“Keep going, you unfaithful coward!” Sana yelled, egging him on.  “Prove yourself!”

There came only a short moment of silence before he spoke again.  “Pick her up!”  Varia ordered, his voice a cold, commanding tone Kalara had never heard before.  “Take her to the garden and shackle her there.”

At his command, Rij and another servant dragged Kalara through the house to the yard, paying no mind to her footing or protests.  She’d known both of them since she’d arrived so long ago.  She begged them now, to no avail, even though she caught the displeasure at their task in their gazes as they clapped shackles on each of her wrists.  What choice did they have?

Her tumultuous journey through the house and into the yard ended at a tree in the garden with a large metal ring that had been screwed deeply into the bark, a relic of the previous owners of the household who used to tie animals there.  It had seen no use by Sana and Varia of House Cynis till now.  In fact, they’d made the area more beautiful with desert succulents and flowering jasmine imported from their homeland in the Isle.  She had gotten used to the freedom of no shackles in this gilded cage she had been allowed to wander in.

They stretched her arms up by the shackles using the ring between the chain to hook her to the tree.  The motion kept her from being able to hold up her tattered clothing, leaving her bared and crying against the tree.  Kalara barely had time to whisper a prayer before Varia’s shadow fell over her once more. 

“Do it for me, my love…” Sana curled herself into Varia’s shoulder, whispering dark nothings into his ear.  At the same time, her keen, ardent gaze covered Kalara’s back, relishing the thought of ruining the smooth muscles there.  “…It’s the only way.”

No sound came from Varia in reply.  The moment hung heavy in the air, as heavy as the shackles Kalara never thought she’d have to wear again.

“If she’s just a slave after all, then what should it matter?”  Sana injected one last bit of encouragement into her husband’s ear.

And then, he began. The first strikes on the floor had only been a prelude, an attempt to stave off worse punishment by holding back.  Now, with Sana watching so closely, with her hand on his arm encouraging him, Varia let loose with the real punishment.  The beating wasn’t performed with a leather flog that left weels or the thin precise snap of a whip.  Sana’s tool of choice to prove his loyalty was her favorite tool, the familiar length of bone with carved edges towards the top that split the skin in long grooves where they fell.  The delicate white ostrich feathers that hid the sharp structure within were almost completely stained red by the time he was finished.

Kalara could only endure eight more of the strikes before the pain overtook her senses and she fell into darkness.  She hung there at the end of the ordeal, the garden falling silent as all who witnessed the beating took in the horror that had transpired.  Countless tiny droplets of red stained the white jasmine that had grown around the tree, an uncaring spot of beauty amidst the ugliness.

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