One
Wake up.
The voice floated like a phantom through the delicate landscape of her dreams, dreams of golden and gossamer celestial spheres and elaborate thrones, her spectral being dancing in the embrace of gods to the songs of nymphs and angels.
Wake up, Sin.
Her eyes fluttered open and the fragrant dusk greeted her senses that had been so absorbed by her dreams. She had fallen to sleep nude body upon the soil, but a nighttime chill slithered through the stalks of wheat in the field beside her beckoning her to wake.
"We have to go now."
Her eyes filled with the smile that turned her cousin's lips but there was tension about his eyes belying his fear. She reached up with a hand to touch his smooth, boyish cheek. "I was dreaming, cousin."
"Always dreaming." His lips fluttered against her hand spreading the warmth of his breath raising goose bumps on her arm.
He turned his face up to the sky, a sea of glittering stars winked from the heavens and queen amongst them all was the full and pregnant moon. Light gleamed off of the dark strands of his hair and Sin was enchanted by his crude beauty. "It's almost time." He said.
"For what?" She asked softly.
"The Choosing."
She shuddered. The Choosing came at the end of every spring in Elysion, a time where all slaves who had come of age were presented before the Stewards and selected to work the fields, to feed the Hounds or to serve the House.
Their whole life was commanded by the will of the House. The Lords and Ladies who lived far beyond the fields, she had never seen them before but there were tales of pale spectral faces of incomparable beauty. The rumors were that ichor ran in their veins and that they were as different from their slaves as the Hounds were from wolves.
This was why he had been troubled, why they made love with violent haste and he had left bruises on her tender skin. "Do you believe in freedom, cousin?" She asked.
He looked down at her, eyebrows knitted in distress. "What is freedom? We cannot live without the Maegesters and they cannot live without us. There is no such thing in this life."
"And what about the next?"
"Next?"
"The next life."
He smiled in such a way that reminded her of all of her kin, the same twist of the mouth that bore no pleasure nor humor; it made her blood boil. They were slaves, and like all good slaves they believed that they came from nowhere and knew nothing.
Sin sat up, her limbs creaking.
Her cousin had already climbed to his feet and pulled on his hessian breeches. "We must go now, Sin."
"Yes we must go." She thought. It was a forbidden thing they did, coming out to the fields, laying together on the soil. She gathered her tattered muslin dress, streaked with dirt and pulled it over her head. She felt sluggish, the fringe of dreams tugging at her consciousness.
She tied her sash about her hips and stood, her hair was dusty, bearing grains of soil and forest debris.
Her cousin took hold of her hand and tugged her toward home and she allowed herself to be lead along the corner of the wheat field, the fragrance of Elysion wafting through the stalks alighting her senses. She lingered behind, losing their grasp on one another's hands, her cousin strode ahead nervously eager to breach the safety of home. Instead Sin's footsteps slowed and she allowed herself to revel in her brief mutiny, to show the night and its many eyes that it did not belong to them alone.
Sin was born on the Elysion soil, though she had never known her mother who was the same as her mother and the one before her. With hair the colour of the brown soil and the eyes as radiant as the moon but as honeyed as the wheat. All bred from the finest of slave stock.
Even the males of her kin were of a kind, broad shouldered with thick strong thighs, strong to work the fields and pull the plough for the sowing of the crops.
Sin stopped midstride.
Silence pervaded the night sudden and complete. Her lips quivered as she was gripped by icy white fear. "Cousin?" She spoke softly, too soft for him to hear for he was nowhere in sight. A sudden howl disguised the near inaudible sound of her breath.
The Hounds were in the forest.
Hounds were wolves who wore the disguises of men, they feasted on flesh and blood and mortal souls and the slaves both hated and feared them. As an animal a Hound was large, two maybe three times the size of a wolf and could never be mistaken for anything other than the kin of a god.
Her earss picked up the sound of footsteps padding like a distant army marching off beat. She broke into a run, her heart climbing into her throat until her lungs burnt and she made a zigzag path from the fields to the forestland. The emerald tangle of woodland seemed to throb with menace and then darkness descended as the trees obscured the light of the moon.
She could hear the Hounds, their heavy panting breath in her ears dictating the rhythm of her heart and her mouth was thick and inconsolable with fear.
She fell to the ground, tripping on a vine, grazing her palms and bruising her cheek. She looked up through the desperate trickle of tears to see a bolt of light flash between two trees and a Hound landed on the ground before her. The hound was one of Mercury's wolves, his coat as pale and beautiful as the moonlight.
Sin closed her eyes, her lips fluttered in soundless prayers whilst she clutched fistfuls of earth.
The Hounds were earth prowling gods, sons of Dis: the gods that swallowed the sun at night and brought with them blood and the moon.
There was silence and she looked up slowly, fearfully to find a boy of about her age standing before her.
He had a beautifully formed face, his looks were uncanny but it was his eyes that made her heart crawl into her throat. His eyes glowed like a sinking sun, his ripe mouth moved to form a word or take a breath but she was deaf. She felt as if she were falling. Dreaming…
She couldn't resist reaching for him, her fingertips hovered by his inky black hair and she could feel the warmth of him pushing against her palm. His face was close now; she could feel his breath and taste him in her mouth. Her eyelids fluttered dreamily and suddenly his mouth was on hers, soft, hot, wet speaking without words. I know you.
Lightning struck about her, bolts sent from Jupiter's throne shimmering through her flesh and set deep into her bones. She passed into unconsciousness and when she came to the Hound's rough tongue was upon her tender cheek, his sharp teeth grazing her delicate skin and she tasted it's saliva like foul ambrosia.
"Verain." A rough voice shouted from the outer darkness and the wolf reared back with a snarl.
Sin collapsed in the dirt with the foreign taste of wolf spit in her mouth.
"What have we got here then?" The silhouette of a man stood before them, but Sin knew he was no man but a Hound in disguise, wearing his human skin and wielding a vicious barbed whip in one thick fingered hand.
Sin looked from the wolf to the man and back again and prayed silently for her soul as she faced imminent death. The man lashed his whip and the wolf snapped his teeth in warning, threatening to take the whip from him but only threatening.
The man growled at the wolf, the sound vibrating through his human throat, skin rising above his stained uneven teeth.
For an instant she felt frightened for the silver wolf, the wolf that could call the bolts of the thunder god through his mouth. His eyes were brilliantly bright and intelligent, he moved to stand between the man and the slave and then a strange sound crawled up from his animal throat. "Run."
Sin could not comprehend the voice that had spoken. The man's whip lashed out at the silver wolf, she scrambled into action, moving backward across the forestland until she found her feet and then began to sprint the familiar path toward the hearth fires of home.
The baying of the Hounds chased her as she ran.
Soon she saw the pale, gaunt features of her cousin, one arm outstretched through the dark. "Sin." Her name echoed and she tripped toward him. Sin glanced behind her, at the dark, oily forest undulating with beasts and she thought, no hoped, for an instant that she would see eyes like golden suns staring back at her.
Each stinging kiss of the switch scored a deep red welt on Sin's back, but did not break her skin. Big Sister was always oh so careful not to permanently mark her but ensure a thorough punishment. "You have Eris' poison spit in you." Big Sister's words wheezed from between clenched teeth. She brought down the lash again with less vehemence than before and Sin knew the punishment would soon come to an end.
Sin bit the tip of her tongue, tears cooling on her cheeks.
"Careful, sister. You don't wish to break her so soon before the choosing." An old woman said in passing.
Big Sister stopped in mid motion. The words spoke were sobering and she dropped the lash, her hands were visibly trembling. "Go." She said as if disgusted by the sight of the girl. "Go and clean yourself up."
The low murmur of disapproval had hummed steadily since the break of dawn, her family watched her from the corners of their eyes, their mouths set in anger.
Sin held her dress against her breasts, her back was now an erratic lattice of dark red lines, and she let her hair conceal the sight. It took her time to walk gingerly toward the water trough where she sought to cool her welts. It seemed life would resume in its tense and steady stride in the hold.
The Hold was home, a collection of squat wood structures arranged in a lose ring, with the exception of one hut set in the dark recess of the hold near the cesspit. The hold was enclosed by high wooden stakes, there was only one way to get in or out…or so the Maegesters thought.
The inside of the huts were basic, there was only enough room for them to sleep, they lay on beds of cotton and threadbare blankets. There was a well for them to drink, troughs for them to bathe and a fire pit to cook the meat left to them by the Maegesters.
The hold was made up of children, boys and girls from the ages of one to eighteen, there were older women who had not been used for breeding. There were no grown men amongst them. There were no couples and none could lay together without consent of the House.
Her family did not know what she escaped to the fields to do, they did not know she lay with her cousin or how they had come upon the joy of their first touch, their first taste, at first holding hands and then more.
There was a deep dark defiant part of her that longed to roam free.
From the corner of her eye she saw her cousin, his gaze lingered on her, and heat came to her cheeks. Her thoughts sprung to the beautiful boy, the Hound that had laid his lips on hers and the world had transformed beyond the mortal bounds.
Her stomach clenched in desire. Even as the Hound's face formed in her mind the gates of the Hold burst open. The largest of Hounds stood like a dark pillar, his expression was fierce and in one hand a barbed lash his other pointing into the midst of the slaves. "I am looking for a slave."
The slaves fell to their hands and knees, faces pressed to the dirt. Sin was poised in the likeness of her kin but her welts were throbbing fiercely, guilt and recognition making them feel as if they were protruding like beacons, signaling the attention of the Hound.
"A girl. Young. You." The large Hound strode into the thick of the slaves who were pungent with fear and sweat. He placed the tip of his whip on one young girl's head. "No. You."
Sin was trembling with the effort to stay as she was.
"You will learn to obey." He growled, the beast inside him threatening to crawl up through his throat and devour them.
She heard his footsteps, like tills ploughing the earth, punishing it, running rampant making his way through the dark haired slaves, grasping hair to stare into faces gone white with fear. He was getting closer, Sin did not attempt a glance for fear he would recognise her.
She held her breath, teeth clenched, fingers digging into the dirt beneath her. She prayed to all the gods that she knew, a brief ecstatic mantra to let her live. He was so close she could smell him, he could take up the scent of her throbbing flesh if he would but look down at her.
He passed by without a second glance. "When I find the little witch I'll-"
"Hound." Interrupted by a cold imperious voice. A new voice. A voice Sin had never heard before. It sliced through the large Hound's roiling anger like a blade. Sin was irresistibly drawn; she looked up and felt a chill ripple through her.
It was the Maegester. It had to be, the graceful stance, the beautifully made clothes and haughty lift of the chin. He was also slender but there was no mistaking his strength, his face was pale and impossibly beautiful, sensuous features and intense unforgiving eyes the colour of the dark ocean depths.
"Sorken, did I order this…" He lifted a hand to indicate the horde of shivering slave flesh. "What is going on?"
"No, my lord." The Hound, Sorken had already dropped to one knee, even then he was a large figure. "I…"
The Maegester looked out at the slaves and Sin's lip trembled as their eyes met for just an instant before she buried her face in the dirt.
"What are you doing?"
"There was a slave free in the forest, my lord."
"A slave from this Hold?" The Maegester's tone was enquiring but casual and Sin was all the more afraid for it.
"Dark hair, my lord." Sorken was as frightened of the Maegester as the slaves were of him and she could sense his trembling from a distance.
The Maegester left his horse's side and walked into the gathering of slaves. The fear was thick, near tangible, there were near unperceivable gasps as he passed. "No slave walks free in Elysion." His voice was cold.
"No, my lord." Sorken agreed immediately.
"And who among my slaves would you have taken without my permission, Hound?"
Sorken did not speak, a garble of words was stuck in his throat and Sin could feel the invisible noose of the Maegester's voice tightened around the Hound's neck. Good. Though her heart was beating, louder and louder it seemed.
So preoccupied with her own pulse she almost collapsed when she saw the tips of the Maegester's boots stop before her face. It was as if the rhythm of her heart had beckoned him. He moved on and she let out a relieved breath.
"You have not answered me, Hound."
"Forgive me, my lord."
"Why should I?"
Sorken still had no words.
"So which of you slaves has defied our Hound and your Maegesters?"
No one stirred.
Big Sister made a soft sound and Sin closed her eyes. Big Sister would seal her doom and see her taken as meat for the Hounds. The moment was stretched taught and unbearable, Sin almost wanted to confess.
The sound of running steps cut through some of the tension, Sin ventured another look and almost collapsed to find Mercury's wolf wearing the guise of an eerily beautiful boy standing in the Hold. If the Maegester was uncanny in his icy good looks, this Hound was his equal in fire.
His eyes flashed about the gathered, drinking in the sight of the slaves pressed to the ground, Sorken on his knees and the Maegester presiding over them all.
"Ah, Verain. Perhaps you can explain this madness?" The Maegester addressed him with fondness.
Sin put her face back in the dirt, her back still throbbing with keen awareness. Her heart sunk in despair; now two Hounds could call her out to the Maegester himself or even Big Sister need but utter a word.
"Your kin here seems to think there was a slave running wild in the forest, is this something you would know about?"
Sin felt as if all the gathered were staring at her now, she could hear Sorken's nostrils flare as he greedily sucked in the scent of human flesh, as if he could sense her guilt through her smell.
"We patrol the woodland as you bid us, Maegester and I can vouch no slave of yours runs wild in the forest." Verain's voice was firm but Sin knew it was a lie.
"I thought as much." The Maegester seemed satisfied with Verain's word.
Sorken growled and the Maegester shot him a cold look.
"What about her?" Sorken pointed blindly into the crowd.
Sin was shivering with the effort of staying on hands and knees, certain that she had been found out, certain that Sorken's thick finger was trained on her head.
"You."
She was panicked, her heart had crawled into her throat and she thought she would vomit her pulse or suffocate from it's thick beating.
"This is the one." Sin looked up, no point in hiding now to find a sister nearby seized. She looked desperately to Verain who met her stare and his eyes flared with recognition. She communicated to him without having to say the word. I am the one. It was me.
"Well well." The Maegester walked, all rippling grace, toward the girl Sorken had held up by the hair. Whilst his tone once again was casual, there was no mistaking the danger. "Are you the creature causing all this trouble? Did you disobey me?"
"N...n…no." Came the girl's stuttering response. "Never."
"It speaks."
"This is the one, my lord." Sorken growled a fierce convicted smile on his face.
Sin watched the Maegester's pale hand flick out toward her sister and a thin red line appeared on the girl's throat. Blood began to pour and the wheezing, choking sounds of the girl desperately trying to catch her breath, it made Sin sick to her stomach.
"No slave runs wild in the forest." The Maegester's tone was unmistakable now.
Sorken dropped the corpse unceremoniously to the ground and followed the Maegester who went back to his mount. "Come, we have other business." The Maegester motioned for the Hounds to accompany him.
Verain walked alarmingly close toward Sin, she could feel his hot gaze on her bowed head and she gave an involuntary shiver. He left as the Maegester bid him and the gates closed behind them.
They were all too afraid to move at first. Sin was one of the first to raise her head and as each dark pair of eyes turned to her, she felt crippled by shame. She found Big Sister staring at her from across the yard, her gaze the harshest of all. This is your fault. They all said without having to say a word.
The older boys carried their sister's body away and Sin remained in the dirt as they disappeared to build a pyre.
Sin would not talk of freedom again, no, it seemed this freedom came at too high a cost.
A slender figure stood on the parapet overlooking the sloping blossom hills, the house gleamed beneath the full swathe of the moon. The fragrant breeze lifted the chiffon of her dress, the current beckoning her to take the last step to ruin.
"What are you doing, Beatrice?" Startled, the girl turned, ribbons of her dress fluttering in the wind like banners of surrender. "Come down from there." The girl moved as if in a dream, feet stepping gently onto solid ground as she had been bidden.
The Lord of Elysion stood with his face free from expression, and a boy was silhouetted at his elbow.
Lucerne wrapped a hand around her wrist and tugged her toward him. "What are you doing, Beatrice?" He asked softly enough to draw her trembling lips to speak.
"The slaves will weep and cry in the night." She replied in a sing song voice. "Their blood upon your lips, husband, their stench upon your fingertips."
He put a hand in her hair and raised her face for his inspection searching her maddening gaze for a shred of clarity. Her swollen belly pressed into his thighs and he lay a hand on the plumpness of his child growing inside her. "Speaks sense, wife."
"I have lost your child, Lucerne." Her eyes focused for an instant as she confessed.
With a growl he tugged her skirts high to expose her pale thighs and saw the stain of blood, the scent of it clinging to her skin, the remnants of his heir…his child was dead.
"My life is not worth living." She cried, tears interrupted her and she collapsed against his chest, but he made no move to take hold of her as she slid to the ground. Beatrice had lost six children, her body too weak to carry Lucerne's seed to term; the disappointment hit him like a fist.
He glared down at her as she clutched weakly at his legs.
"What will you do?" A voice asked softly from behind him.
Lucerne turned his back on his wife to meet his sister's gaze, she was flanked by her own Hound, and his mouth formed a cruel line. "See that she is taken care of, Linnea." He replied in a voice that was devoid of emotion. "Then have her removed from Elysion."
Beatrice sobbed.
"Luc." His sister stepped forward laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. "She has just lost a child."
"And I have lost my patience." He snapped, his eyes taking on the eerie light of the moon.
"Have some pity." Her tone grew warm with anger.
"I have given all I have."
"Your hands are stained." She whispered.
"It is not her blood." He said. "I had to take the life of a slave of Meridianus, I am concerned they harbour delusions of freedom and defy my edict of remaining within their quarters."
"As do we all." Linnea said and she pushed Lucerne to one side to take the weeping Beatrice to her bosom.
"You will never leave Elysion, sister." Lucerne said with a cold sneer.
"Rouse Alister, we must get her to the infirmary." Linnea said ignoring her brother's words, Beatrice's skirts were tangled above her waist and Linea could see the clots of blood falling from Beatrice's legs. She motioned for the Hounds to pick her up. "Gently." She admonished and they took more care on their way.
"You do not understand." Lucerne said causing his sister to pause before she followed. "It is not the matter of kindness to a wife but the begetting of an heir for this House."
Linnea's eyes fell on the boy Hound that had shadowed Lucerne that evening, his lovely features illumined by the moonlight, wondering at the golden hue of his magnificent eyes. "Our father never concerned himself with such things."
"His wife was a blessing to him in the making of us."
"And Lux." She reminded. The sound of their adopted brother's name made Lucerne flinch, he had always despised Lux for the threat he posed upon Lucerne's hold on the island.
"We will speak no more of him."
Linnea blushed for she had a deep affection for their adopted brother. In the first flushes of youth they had flirted and made promises, longing for freedom from the pleasant prison Elysion presented. But that was all long ago and Lux had been absent for so long.
Lucerne ruled the secrecy island absolutely, his House hosting several old families whose loyalties were bound to the long history of Elysion which once was home to a goddess.
"So what will you do? Take another wife?" Linnea asked.
"Perhaps."
"And what of Beatrice?"
He shook his head. "She will be exiled from the island and given a substantial sum for her pains."
"She is not a slave or a whore to be paid as such."
Lucerne's patience broke, he took Linnea by the throat, breathing hotly against her, his fangs came to their fullness and scraped against the pale skin. "I will have a son to rule this place when I am gone. If I have to put aside a dozen women I will do it."
Linnea rubbed the tender skin of her throat. "Maybe you're cursed." She said and spat on the floor in the path she had taken, she was the only person on the island that was not afraid of the Lord of Elysion. "Be careful Lucerne, one day, one of your women will not so easily be put away."
Updated 01/04/2012
Miss S