Chapter 18
Bite the Bullet
Abigail had to admire Bao for his determination, even though she knew it was pointless to argue with the guard. As soon as Hulin left to deliver the book, Bao had regretted letting him leave. Panic encompassed him in as it normally did with him in regards to what Tama would do once the torturer that took her tongue unveiled her conspiracy.
The older woman had bickered for months with herself over a way to inform Norah that Tama wasn't interested in her baking and serving abilities. Abigail had been in the same predicament many years ago and she was steadfast to have at least one escape even if she had failed to do so before…
40 Years Ago
She didn't feel guilty that she had gotten caught running. In fact, the only thing she was regretful about, was that Bao was involved in it.
It had started like a joke that Bao had taken too seriously. Abigail smiled at the memory, even though her face hurt from the effort; bruised from the guards that had brought her in; she had put up a fight but had lost.
She had called him a daft for even conjuring up such an impossible fantasy. Abigail had always lived under the impression there was no escape from the palace—Bao was not so convinced, however.
The blonde had told him to forget the entire thing, that it was something only done in Earthrealm. Abigail also didn't want to fall into the cliché of the forbidden lovers departing into the sunset like some sappy harlequin romance novel.
However, after Bao had told her about his mother's secret dealings with the Earthrealm girls she came in contact with, the idea became incredibly more persuasive—in fact, it was the only option left.
In hindsight, Abigail had always figured that Bao had wanted to run away from the overbearing claws of his mother. Perhaps he never even knew that he had been waiting for an excuse until now.
He was her reason to finally try.
Bao wanted her safe, but she knew that might also mean that he would suffer consequences for the cost of her freedom.
"You are all the reason I need. If this fails, I shall deal with it as well. I will not leave you alone in this."
A tear ran down her face as they dragged her to Tama's room—the cave of the lion waiting to maul her to bits.
Each guard's grip was crushing, and she could barely keep her head up. Her knees and shins scraped against the floor of the palace hallway, peeling skin away; the guards the only reason she was able to make it to Tama's room at all.
Everything ached with each movement, feeling like one of those poor tortured buggers who had to endure the Tower of London.
Bao. I'm sorry. I hope they are not knocking you around too hard because of me.
The guard opened the door, and waiting behind her desk like a vulture on a perch waiting for carrion, was Tama.
Despite the bruises on her face, Abigail lifted her chin proudly at the woman. Tama did not take too kindly to the gesture and scowled; her lip curling up quickly like a predator would do to a fellow competitor.
"Put her on her knees," was Tama's explicit command. Abigail could hear how furious she was despite how even she tried to keep her tone.
The guards did as instructed and Abigail winced in pain. Her body hunched forward and her hands stayed on her lap. Tama rose from the desk and approached her till she was in front of her. Abigail could barely make out her form through her blood-stained blonde hair that hung around her like a messy curtain of tattered cheesecloth and could only see Tama with one good eye—the other closed shut by a guard's fist.
Abigail looked at Tama regardless, doing her best to appear unafraid under the older woman's livid gaze.
"Leave me with the slut," Tama barked, crossing her arms over her chest. The guards left in silence, their footsteps and the sound of the door closing the only noise that came from them. She almost wished she had the guards present to chaperone. With the stern look of malice and the way Tama's chest rose up and down with each heated breath, Abigail really had no idea what the woman was capable of at this point.
Seeing her employer as furious as she was horrifying and the Earthrealmer had to admit she was afraid of her at the moment.
Tama looked like a calculative horror movie villain out of one of those ridiculous American Slasher Films. Leatherface, Buffalo Bill, that mad little girl who needed an exorcism, they would have all quivered in terror at the blank, but murderous look Tama was giving her at the moment.
Regardless of it, Abigail would stand her ground. "Your son may be frightened of you, but I'm not. Even with that cheeky look you are giving me."
Tama's face twisted into a snarl and backhanded her sharply across the face.
Abigail to let out an involuntary groan of pain as her head hit the floor. She lay on her side, pressing her hands against the stone as Tama hovered over her with the same, expressionless but deadly look. She had to admit, for an old bitch, she had a mean and strong hand.
"I always hated the way that you talked," Tama stated with a flat tone. "I always found that accent of yours unbearably annoying."
"Bao seems to like it just fine," Abigail shot back; her voice a smug but carried on a pained whimper. She grimaced as she began to pick herself up. Weakly, she managed to sit on her bottom with Tama glaring down at her.
Tama sneered at her response. "My son has always had a weakness for pretty little whores and their charms. At least after today, I will no longer have to hear you speak again."
Abigail flinched at her words, a sudden shred of trepidation flowing through her at Tama's vague declaration.
The door opened, and Abigail felt herself let out a shaky gasp at who it was that walked through it.
Hulin only held only two things in his hands: metallic tongs and a knife. He looked over to at her for a moment, before regarding Tama with an almost displeased disposition.
"Just a simple removal?" Hulin asked with a disappointed sigh. "Will I at least be able to keep the tongue?"
Abigail's bottom lip quivered at the instruments and the man that held them; understanding Tama's intention and what the woman thought fitting as revenge.
Tama gave her a close-lipped, but side-lifted smile at her when she could see that Abigail understood what she had planned.
Tama walked over to her and grabbed her by her chin. The woman's nails dug sharply into her already blue and black battered face, and Abigail let out a moan of pain; she could feel Tama's nails cutting into her flesh.
"Your fatal error was not running away or spreading your legs," Tama spat at her, each word trembling with a violent shake. Tama sharp eyes suddenly softened and Abigail could swear for just a brief second, Tama she looked devastatingly heartbroken. It was more alarming than any of the other looks and Abigail floundered under it.
"It was stealing the only thing I ever loved from me."
The Earthrealmer never knew if she kept her alive to further torture her, or because of Bao. That remained an enigma, but there was one thing that hadn't.
Abigail wanted retribution for her stolen clout.
It didn't break her, but it had crippled Bao and her. They had to resort to other ways to express how they felt, but it was never the same. Tama had taken their ability to stay conjoined in their captivation with each other. Though she knew it was a constant tumor that grew over the years and ate away at his confidence, Bao blamed himself for her inability to engage in conversation. His mother was barking mad, she never had her doubts about it, but despite an eternity of abusive words and grueling work under her thumb, she would never regret who she decided to fall in love with. Showing such persistence now, even at the eleventh hour, Abigail could tell that he still did as well, regardless of her previous reservations about how she thought he felt before.
Watching herself age was also another blow, an expected one, but one that hurt nonetheless. It shriveled her confidence even though Bao still claimed he loved her, she knew he did but the infatuation shifted into friendship. It was repulsed people in the palace what they were and so they opted to conceal cosset in private and away from the dangers of simple-mindedness. It was his suggestion and she agreed to it because the more she aged and the more Tama became a constant poltergeist in their life, the more her adoration for him depleted.
In the end, she did not love him as she once did. How could she? He was Dorian Gray and she was the hideous painting he had to hide away. She was nothing more than an obligation, spawn from his guilt for not saving her the first time.
Regardless that everyone saw her as frail, and at times she agreed as well, no innocent would become what Abigail was almost imprisoned to be. Unfortunately, she failed. Most of them were Earthrealmers and some even Outworld girls that either didn't believe her or in Méh-è's case, were too stupid to understand.
It crushed her each time to see the girl's carted off to be some arsehole's trollop and the gloating victory that Tama wore each time a purchase was made.
"It is all an Earthrealmer is good for." Tama never said those words out loud, but the look in her eyes was like reading it from a teleprompter.
The old woman understood why she hated Earthrealmers in particular, they were the architects of her unbearable suffering in Tama's youth, but Abigail could never understand how she could do it to her own kind.
She always figured it was because no kindness could ever remove the affliction done to her— she noticed her target was always those who were naïve in regards to her own people. Abigail knew there was more.
Living under a veil of meekness helped conceal her despite Tama's eyes on her like a hawk until she felt the need to be a nosey parker. As soon as she saw Norah with The Hobbit, reading it in the kitchen, she instantly had the page in mind and what to write.
Norah could be ignorant at times, but she knew unlike the others, the baker could have figured it out with the right push. In a way, she hated Norah for the longest time and could barely stand to be around her. Abigail only saw a reflection in a mirror.
What convinced Abigail that Norah was worth the effort was one small detail.
Norah did not trust Tama since her arrival.
The other girls did not like Tama, and cried about how cruel she was, but they never dug for the truth or wanted to break out of their cage.
Carver and Bert were also in the dark about what Tama wanted Norah for and when she saw the girl becoming more content, Abigail had to act. At least, Bert understood there was meaning to her theft and allowed it despite it was something precious of Carver's. Norah needed to know the truth before she was lost to the comfort of settling in the palace like the others had become.
Tama cut her tongue out, but what she failed to understand was there were many other ways to talk.
"The Emperor is denying anyone without permission leave the palace at this time," the guard informed authoritatively.
Bao's face twisted with frustration. "I was given orders to leave! We need stock for our kitchen!"
"You will have to wait to retrieve the items," The Osh-Tekk rebuttled, blinking plainly. He was not buying Bao's blag and neither would Abigail if in the guard's boots.
Abigail saw Bao reach out to grab the guard, attempting to pin him to the wall when she saw his patience cut short. Immediately, she grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him back; his face still contorted with dissatisfaction. The older woman led him away, noticing the guard seemed content the bug buzzing at him was flying away.
Bao turned to her and the hopelessness that invaded his eyes caused her own blue ones to reflect it back like a pond on a rainy day. Gingerly, not caring they were in public, she laid her palm on his cheek to silently convey, that 'it was alright.'
The younger, handsome boy, still after all these years trying to grow into a man stifled by an overbearing demon at his back, pressed her hand more firmly into his cheek.
"I do not want this for you," Bao submitted with a heavy sigh. His cinnamon colored eyes engulfed in a brief blaze of anger. "Why? I would have told Norah. My mother would not have harmed me."
Abigail responded a fraudulent credulous smile to his lie. He had so many chances to inform other girls and he never did. The elderly woman knew why — she had always known what had stopped him. He had eyes on him more than Winston Smith had Big Brother watching him. Perhaps Bao had it worse than Winston, since the surveillance was his own flesh and blood.
It was one of the reasons why Abigail did not feel the same fondness as Bao did for her. Her tongue was not the only thing Tama robbed that day and his mother knew it as well. The bitch had taken his backbone. Perhaps, that was why she did not feel as much fear as she televised. This was her way of not only giving Norah the chance she deserved, but to retrieve what his mother took from him. Even if it was an extreme push that he would never forgive her for. Abigail just hoped he didn't fall too far and return back into the weak-kneed boy he was when she first meet him.
It was time for him to finally grow up.
"Abigail…"
The charismatic male voice addressing her sent shivers down her like a the cold tip of a knife tracing the skin of her spine. Bao's deflated face was confirmation enough of who was behind her though she recognized the voice without turning needing to turn around.
"Tama would like to have several words with you," Hulin apprised darkly. "Perhaps we can discuss Earthrealm literature as I escort you?"
Bao shook his head, preparing to open his mouth to protest before he felt Abigail's other hand on his cheek. She kept his attention on her, telling him not to interject. Bao understood but buried inside of him, was argument threatening to burst out. His eyes brimmed with tears and she shared his heartbreak as well, but she did not shed a tear. Instead, she kissed him tenderly goodbye.
Abigail expected Hulin to give a disgusted snort, but it came from the guard they had pressed to let them go instead. Instead, all Hulin did was firmly grasp her arm. Bao floundered as soon as she was pulled away, looking as if he was having difficulty not buckling to his knees. Abigail's eyes crinkled as a compulsive reassuring smile failed to reach out to him. Bao did nothing and she chided him lightly.
You knew this day was coming.
As the Edenian led her inside, Abigail watched as he turned to look back at Bao, and ridiculed acidly to her: "I always thought Bao's finger had a bland flavor to it. It seems I was right to assume that. A husband would not cower to save his wife unless he was anything but weak."
Abigail lifted her chin, pressing her lips into a solid line. Hulin could barb her with any poisonous words he wanted, they would have no effect on her this time. This time, she would not cast her gaze towards the floor and would meet her Medusa eye to eye.
"I will not lay with your corpse," Hulin foretold matter-of-factly, "I prefer to fornicate with warmer flesh despite what words are whispered in corridors about my preferences. I doubt Tama will let you live, but hopefully, your withered muscles are adequate enough. I feel like a roast with my vegetables tonight."
Abigail let out a scoff through her nostrils as her blue eyes flared with repulsion at him.
Choke on me, bastard.
Norah was actually thankful for the grip on her hair, because despite how harshly Tama pulled on her scalp, it was nothing in compared to the pain she felt between her legs. With each stumble through the hallways, shockwaves of throbbing, painful pressure pierced her insides. Each step produced more invisible lacerations; as if she were still inflicting herself with the rolled up paper she had left behind in the cell. Her self-mutilation had not been easy, it was horrendous and she could not see why any woman could find enjoyment in their first time.
Norah let out a sigh of mild contentment. It was over, she had done it and it was irreversible. The baker felt another rivulet of blood travel down her inner thigh and ironically, she found herself smiling again.
Tama's emotional, frenzied explosion in her cell filled her reassurance that she did not maim herself for nothing. It was the reaction she was hoping for. It all but confirmed the legitimacy of Abigail's riddle and it was the first time, Tama had lost.
Another impolite tug on her hair caused Norah to let out a small hiss through her teeth. The cupbearer felt her halt for a moment, jingle the keys out of her pocket, before it was followed by the unmistakable sound of a door handle being turned.
She didn't have to look up to know that they had finally arrived at where Tama would reprimand her. The only attempt at fighting to escape from her had been reaching towards a decorative vase — one that was too far away— to smash against her head. Unfortunately, she was too tired, hungry and dehydrated to fight off Tama dragging her like flour through the streets of the market.
It did not mean she wouldn't stop fighting. Now that she was out of her cell, with just Tama as her only blockade to freedom, there was an opportunity that she could seize. The slave just needed to wait for the right moment to sneak past her master –by force if she needed to.
"Get in there!" Her contract holder ordered, throwing her by her hair into the room.
Her weak legs found their bearings after a few small stumbles. Even with the dark drape of sloppy, greasy hair in front of her face, she knew where she was.
"So what token from me will you decorate your desk with?" Norah questioned maliciously, her voice purposely impish. "I am sure it will be my soiled virginity knowing how repulsive you really are. You left it in my cell."
Norah's eyes were on the desk, scolding each item with hatred, therefore, she did not Tama's hand reach out for her— but she did hear the savage roar of enmity before her hand struck her head. The woman grabbed her once again by the back of her hair, pulled back like reigns on a mount, and then tossed her to the ground.
Norah landed with a grunt on her hands and knees, pain searing through her lower body. With a snarl, Norah tilted her head and huffed.
I am getting rather tired of my hair being pulled.
Pressing her hands against the stone ground, she attempted to lift herself back on her feet…
Norah let out an explosive cry of agony when she felt the older woman's foot connect with her groin from behind with as much force she possessed. Honestly, Tama didn't need so much effort to cause her tremendous pain. It was an enraged, vengeful kick that propelled Norah to the ground with her hand instinctively covering her lap. She winced, her eyes shut tight as she rolled like a pot fallen from a shelf. Cutting sparks of electricity fried her loins and already she could feel blood soak through her purple skirt.
Norah rolled on her stomach, reached out her hands and once again tried to lift herself up. A draft of heated and pained breaths came through her teeth as her genitals screamed with wretched pain. Norah ignored it and instead committed to the idea of delivering the same amount of pain towards her keeper.
Just as she removed her stomach from the floor, it flattened against the cold granite once more - accompanied by another howl of pain. Norah looked up, just in time to see the iron fireplace poker descend on her back again. Her nails scratched against the stone floor when it struck her back again. Tama did not use the pointed end, but the bluntness from the shaft sent curt and vibrating pain throughout her back. Already, she could sense the bruises forming.
"You think yourself so clever?" Tama seethed at her. Another hit and Norah's face hit the ground with a muffled cry escaping her. "You are still to be sold! You have accomplished NOTHING!"
Norah let out a taunting laugh, although it was hard to distinguish it as one as a sobbing cry of pain overlapped it seconds later when Tama belted her with the iron cane again.
"Then… Then why are you so upset?" Norah argued, her mouth twitching with every pulsating wave of discomfort.
With an animalistic growl, Tama rolled her on her back by grabbing the back of her blouse. The servant looked up to see Tama unscrew the barbed end of the poker and toss it to the side. It clattered next to her head, too far out of her reach.
A scoff escaped her lips when she witnessed the furious but calculating look on her employer's face. Norah understood; she was trying to decipher how to punish her without leaving anything permanent.
"That is right. Do not leave any scars. How much am I worth now with a branded wrist, scarred shoulder and nothing to stain the sheets of whoever you sell me too?"
The poker smashed against her exposed stomach. Her hand wrapped around her midsection as she crumpled to the side, curling instinctively to protect herself. Norah's eyes squeezed even tighter when she felt Tama's hand wrap around her chin and lift her up. Her stomach contracted and felt as if she had been pierced by a dull dagger. A whimper unwilling left her, encouraging Tama to dig her nails even harder and withdraw a louder one from her.
"I am upset because I will not get the sum negotiated for the unbroken cunt I saved from starvation -" she jerked her, illustrating that she meant her. Norah's narrowed her eyes wrathfully at her, as her hand clasped around her wrist; the woman's nails bit into her skin harder. Tama smirked at her, smugly and nefariously; causing her face to look even more ghoulish.
"A pity for you than it is for me," Tama whispered vindictively. "I did have buyers willing to pay much for you. Especially when I told them you were untouched. However, after what you have done, I am willing to part with a few more coins to see you sold to someone who will do worse than fuck you."
"You will never sell me," Norah protested, lifting her chin up despite Tama's grip on her face. "You are nothing and there is nothing you can do to frighten me any longer. I will fight back for what you took from me."
The older Outworlder snorted at her bravado. "Whatever fight you possess, I will smother it. You are nothing. You are the same as the rest of the Earthrealm girls I have sold. You can contend against me and you will fail as they did. I will prove it to you. Ponder on what sweet, sentimental words you will give to Abigail, for it is the last time you will speak to her."
Norah's wall of braggadocio fell at her words, conveying it had to Tama with a minuscule gasp of horror. "You… You are going to kill Abigail?"
Tama nodded.
Norah's teeth bared at her, as she wrung her hands tighter around the woman's wrist. "Just for telling me what it was you planned to do with me! What is wrong with you?!"
Tama brought her face closer to hers as her voice dropped into an ominous poisonous baritone. "Thank you for providing me with the motivation to do what I should have done long ago. I could not have found the strength to do it without you, Norah."
She was going to kill Abigail, the only person that had the bravery to tell her the truth— in front of her, just to prove a point. Norah had been right about what she had said before: this woman was truly nothing. Nobody could be this cruel and still be deemed a person. Bao was correct in calling her a monster because she was. It was the only applicable word.
"You will both learn your place, finally, and I think you both will need no more lessons after this. You may have defiled yourself, but do not mistake the extents I am willing to go to," Tama let out a breathy laugh and Norah spat in her face for it.
Tama to let out a disgusted growl and released her with a hard throw. Norah's back hit the ground before she quickly recovered and pushed herself from the floor.
Carrening forward, she managed to grab the older woman by the throat with a shriek and push her to the ground. The woman's head bounced off the floor. Dazed, Norah climbed on top of her, straddling her— purposely choosing to neglect how much it hurt her to be in such a position.
Norah pressed down on her throat, causing Tama to sputter for air. Good!
"My place is not here nor in the bed of who you sell me to!" Norah screamed, pushing down harder. Tama eyes widened in alarm. The younger woman squeezed down even more with implacable furor "I. WANT. MY. CONTRACT. Or I will show you the extent I am willing to go!"
A yowl of pain burst from her lungs when Tama grabbed her ear and tugged it hard— earning a shrill cry from the younger girl.
She landed on her side and felt Tama climb on top of her, trapping her by sitting on her chest. A slap stung her face, casting it to the side before Norah returned with one of her own.
Tama's yanked on her hair again, pulling her forehead towards Tama's chest before she hit her with another slap. Norah's hand shot out towards her face, her cheeks burning hot under her palm before she latched out for her attacker.
Blindly, she managed to curl her fingers around Tama's hair. They both grunted and fought for dominance. Norah pushed her torso upwards, bracing her feet against the floor and managed to throw the woman off her.
Whirling around on the ground, Norah eyes landed on what she was searching for. Limping to her feet, her thighs slicked with blood and pain grappling at every inch of her body, she picked up the poker and turned on Tama.
With her less dominant hand, she struck Tama as hard as she could across the face. The woman groaned as her head flipped to the side.
Norah lifted it over her head, aiming for her nose before Tama suddenly launched at her. Tama's hand gripped the wrist that held the poker and pushed it away from her. Norah's threw her head back in anguish when Tama's fingers burrowed under the bandages of her wounded shoulder. With no other option that she could conceive, Norah did what came to mind first.
Tama let out a wail when Norah clamped her teeth into her arm and bit down hard. It did not last long as Tama pushed her weight into Norah and knocked her into the back of the desk. Her injured back flared with pain and caused Norah to buckle to the ground on her rear. Still holding onto the iron poker, she lifted it towards her attacker but found her hand slammed hard on the ground; pinned under Tama's foot.
She feebly tried to lift her wrist but Tama's heel crushed it to the ground. Another slap sent her landing on her side; breathing heavily with her eyes closed. Exhausted, hungry, tired and wounded, Norah weakly tried to rise as she felt Tama seize the poker from her hand. She had managed to sit upright before Tama struck her across the face with the slender iron club. Her head returned to the floor and remained there. Her vision swam through a murky swamp of dull pangs and white dots dancing across a midnight black curtain that almost eclipsed her consciousness. Meekly the baker opened her eyes, faintly tasted copper in her mouth, and looked up to see a more unpleasant sight than Tama above her.
Erron Black confiscated the poker out of Tama's hand and threw it to the side with an audible clang. His eyes looked down at her and then fled back to Tama with an irate spark; it was so unlike him and figured all she was seeing a mirage of sympathy he didn't possess. Norah didn't trust it for one second that he was actually concerned about her well-being, but what plagued her was why he was even here.
Struggling, she managed to lift herself up enough to lean against the desk. Her face blistered with pain when it pulled into a hateful glower at him. Black briefly flickered her eyes over her, tensed them at her with a small pedigree of confusion when they lowered to the red spot on her skirt, and then flashed back at Tama.
"What do you think you are doing, Black?" Tama seethed.
Without warning, he reached out towards her. Norah tried to pull it out of his grasp as his hand wrapped around her wrist and began to drag her towards the door.
"Buyin' a contract," he answered blankly.
Instantly and pitifully she fought to worm her wrist out of his grasp. He reprimanded her with a quick heated glance, silently telling her to 'stop' illustrated in his eyes. Norah ignored his silent command and kept pulling back on her uninjured side. He lugged her along without any effort, despite she was giving all of her strength to get away from him.
With a jerk, he hauled her forward towards him, causing her to collide into his plated chest armor. The gunslinger looked down at her with an impatient stare that was shadowed by his hat; making his blue eyes appear more stormy than they were. Irately, she tugged her wrist away from him and he copied it, bringing her closer to them.
"Quit fightin' someone who's doin' you a favor," he hinted with a low growl, his eyes narrowed in the same distemper his voice displayed.
"Let go of me!"
Black rolled his eyes in annoyance at her and continued towards the door. Norah dug her heels into the floor but the only thing that happened was the soles sliding like ice across the stone. "Get your—"
"That is not yours!" Tama roared, interrupting them as she marched after them. Norah felt Tama's hand land on her wounded shoulder and pull back, releasing an involuntary cry of pain from her. Black's eyes fled to Tama and before she could react, he pulled her out of Tama's palm and collided her into his side, placing himself between Norah and Tama. Before Tama could make a reach for Norah, her eyes landed on the revolver he had pulled from his holster.
Despite the wariness that Tama held in her eyes, Norah still shot a dubious look his way. She stopped fighting him; in fact, none of them moved as soon as he lifted his pistol until he broke the silence.
"It ain't yours either— at least not anymore," Black argued calmly. "Hand it over."
Tama scoffed lightly as her angry eyes flickered from the gun to him. "As I told you before, she is not for sale."
Black's head lowered in her direction. "Maybe you didn't hear me. I said give me, not sell me."
Tama's face ignited at his words and she raised a finger to argue before he cocked the hammer back at her. Still furious with him, Norah couldn't help but blink in bemusement as soon as the lever clicked back.
What was he doing? Why was he doing this? A disgusting thought crossed her mind that maybe he knew the purpose of her contract, but it was a preposterous one; Erron Black would not be interested in her after all their history. The only conclusion she could arrive at in the bewildering turn of events was that he just wanted to get rid of her— perhaps kill her once they reached the outside of the palace walls. Why not just put the gun to her head and just do it then? He wasn't exactly one for subtlety and would not act out this parade of false concern for her well being.
Black gave a small, derisive scoff in her direction. "I think if memory serves me correctly, I told you I wouldn't miss next time. You willin' to wager your life how good I am at this range?"
A resentful tug on Tama's upper lip before pressing back into a hard line was all Norah needed to know that the mercenary wasn't bluffing, and that only further muddled the thoughts of the already puzzled servant.
Was he truly serious? She shook her head at him, the action going unnoticed by the both of them as they continued to stare silently at each other.
There was another theory she did not want to admit to. Like a shore in the distance, taunting her with the promise of sanctuary, was the small idea that shyly called out to her— born only out of the strangeness of his actions. Was he… helping her? Had Erron Black come to an epiphany about how awful his treatment was and felt penitence? Was he trying to sponge away his guilt with kindness?
Remembering he stopped them in the hallway also gave the notion more growth, rooting her to it when she fought against the unlikeliness of such a fantasy. Norah had abandoned any reverie of him doing anything remotely close to that long ago when he turned his back to her at the tavern.
After all he had done, and all that he had almost made her do, Norah found it difficult not to drown in her own speculation that there was something else he wanted.
The memory of the tavern caused her to bridle with malice and quickly quashed the small, naïve hope he was saving her for her. Black's decisions were easier to understand when she put herself in his self-centered shoes. They hated each other and he wanted her gone from his sight if it meant paying coins from his hoarding pockets.
The realization was like a light in a dark cave, exposing the nooks and crannies and eliminating the mystery. It was as simple as that because of how simply narcissistic he was.
Norah's eyes landed on the back of his head with an animus glare. Erron Black was doing this out of his own guilt, to ease the voice in his head so he could carry on with his duties without her plaguing him. Black wanted to forget, that was all. Everything he did was for him and the offer to buy her contract felt nothing more than empty.
Everything could be settled with money. It was such a logical philosophy for him. He would purchase the contract from Tama and forever be rid of her— just like he always wanted. The idea of him holding her contract was as deplorable as Tama still having possession of it.
Norah had to admit, however, the offer was inviting. Black was the reason she was brought here in the first place, and he was buying her out of the palace. If he truly was, even for greedy intentions, she still had a difficult not allowing him to do so.
"I'll be collectin' it when I get back, should give you plenty of time to find where you misplaced it," was his somewhat humored, but arrogantly smug goodbye. "Be happy I'm not obtainin' it by you know what are my usual means."
"Keep the whore, then," Tama blurted with a heated spat. Tama's eyes flickered to her pelvis. "She is worth nothing now, anyway."
She watched as Black uncocked the revolver and placed it back into the holster, gave a mocking nod of appreciation for her time by pinching his fingers on the brim of his ha, and Black guided Norah to the door.
As they stepped into the hallway— with Norah even allowing him to walk her for a moment—a chafed stubbornness possessed her when she recalled the promise she made him not too long ago.
" …I want you to always feel guilty for what you did."
It was still true. Erron Black may have wanted to help her now, but he was not doing out of sincerity. It was selfish even if it was minutely beneficial for her. If the gunslinger thought this belated good deed, one she requested months ago, was suitable payment for his errors, then he had no idea how much of an insult it really was.
Norah pulled back on her arm and he responded by pulling her forward with one of his own; it was as imprudent as the warning look he glanced back at her with.
Resolute, she tried again, this time he stopped walking and turned around to face her. He held her wrist to his chest and looked down at her like a snake which she had stepped on. Already, he regarded her as nothing more than a nuisance and it only filled her with more enthusiasm to get his fingers off her. Another failed attempt to free her wrist earned a dark glower from the marksman.
"You wanna be stubborn and stay here or do you wanna leave?" Black scolded harshly.
His tone infuriated her; as if she was nothing more than a disobedient child. Norah responded by grabbing his fingers, pulling them back and pushing him away as soon as his grip was released. It was barely enough for him to even teeter back and forth on his heels, and it was almost as if he allowed her to pry his fingers off.
"I want for you to stop pretending as if you are doing me any favors," Norah answered spitefully. "You are not helping me, you are doing this because you think this will erase your cruelty towards me. You are too late for your rescue or any act of kindness you pitifully show to mean anything. You forsake that opportunity at the tavern. This changes nothing!"
He blinked his eyes rapidly and regarded her with an ugly scowl. "I asked you a question. You wanna stay here or do you wanna leave?"
"I do not want your help if it means you think this is enough to serve as an apology. I do not want your apology— in any form," Norah declared.
Black's head tilted to the side at her like a bull. An enraged, skeptical look entered in his narrowed eyes as he walked methodically over to her. Norah raised her chin at him in defiance. He was trying to intimidate her and she would not allow it despite that she the fear swirling in her stomach.
"First you want my help, now you're refusing it?" Black began, each word growing more exasperated. "Then you want an apology. I gave it to you, even after you pointed my gun at my head, and now you got the nerve to spit it back in my face?"
He knew she was wounded, still he grasped her by the shoulders. Norah couldn't help but wince at his uncaring grip that informed her just how affronted he was by her rejection of his help.
"What in the hell do you want, then?" Black demanded, his eyes sharp with impatience that was hanging by a bare thread. Norah's green eyes darkened at him and surprisingly, the words left her mouth easily; stoic, astute and honest.
"I want you to always feel guilty for what you have done," Norah answered, her tone apathetic but even she heard her voice choke up; as if lamenting at the memories. Black's eyes softened as carefully as the grasp on her arms did as if trying to hide that the words affected him. The baker could tell they did.
"I was wrong about you," Norah admitted, her voice cold. Although it could have been mistaken for an apology, they both knew it was anything but. "You can feel something, after all. However, all you can feel is guilt and nothing more. If that is the only thing decent left about you and the only way for me obtain any relief from the hardship you have bestowed upon me, then I accept it."
Black soaked up her words and felt his fingers dig more into her skin briefly, out of uncontrolled anger, before he relaxed them.
"You do not possess the compassion to do anything if it does not have prosperity for you in the end. You are too selfish for anything else and I do not trust you no matter how charitable you pretend to be. I am no fool."
He said nothing.
"Even with your promise to free me from my situation, I have not forgotten you are the one that put me here. You are as much responsible as Tama is and that is why, even if it means I cannot escape here today, I will never accept your help to liberate me if it makes you believe that I have forgiven you. That is why I do not want your help, or ever want your help. You would still feel nothing in the end."
Black remained quiet, allowing her to continue, and for the faintest moment, an understanding look deceptively stared back at her before he collected himself, refusing to drop his hardened demeanor. Norah could still see it behind his façade like an alpenglow and despite how fast he wanted the sun to set and snuff it away, so he did not betray the reputation he had, she basked in the light it cast. Not because she felt she misunderstood his nobleness, but because it haunted him.
"How does it feel when someone is unreasonably and needlessly cruel to you?" she questioned callously.
Turbulent thunder rolled behind his eyes and as quick as lightening, he lashed out. With a growl, he hugged her around the midsection, picked her up and placed her on his shoulder. With her slung over like a heavy sack, Norah immediately kicked and beat against his back. One of his muscled arms secured her legs by wrapping at the base of her ankles and pinned them to his chest. An infuriated shriek left her as she hit the back of his head, punching him as he carried her down the hall.
"Let go of me you son of a bitch!"
"Shut up," Erron Black ordered with lackluster voice.
"Drop me gods damn you!" she commanded. No! Black would not force this! All it meant was that he learned nothing! Predictably, he didn't and toted her against her will as if she weighed nothing. The mercenary ignored her fists against his head, even though she heard him grunt in pain every now and then. They passed by a couple of guards and their bewildered expression looked back at her as Black passed them without a word. Norah screamed, wiggled and punched relentlessly but she might as well of been fighting out of the clutches of a Leech Python.
The incompetence to escape him boiled her blood, but there was nothing she could do about it. Once again, he won and she lost. Black would get what he wanted despite what she did.
Tama's door opened and standing under the frame was the occupant of the room herself. She crossed her arms over her chest and with conniption, watched them leave in silence.
Sulking, Norah blinked back the tears and tried to push away the heavy weight of failure she felt. Just let him do this…let him get his way. You'll be out of the palace…
Her small remission to stop fighting his grip allowed her up just in time to see Abigail and Hulin pass by them. As if stamped with a hot iron, she jolted with trepidation. Abigail gave her one last somber look before turning away and allowing Hulin to guide her to Tama's door.
The old Earthrealmer had been the only one that gave a damn about her to tell her Tama's game. The only one brave enough to speak out unlike the others that had the ability to communicate it so easily to her. Abigail was going to die because of her and when she looked into the pensive and knowledgeable blue eyes, Norah knew that Abigail knew this as well.
It only panged Norah even more and the tear she held back fell over her quivering bottom lip. Besides Bert, nobody had risked their life for her, especially when she was so undeserving of their empathy; they were from different realms after all. Like being stung by a poisonous insect, the memory of Rain snapping Bert's neck flashed through her mind. It was Norah's sin – Bert's death was her fault— and it preyed on her guilt like a wolf with a wounded sheep.
"Thank you for providing me with the motivation to do what I should have done long ago. I could not have found the strength to do it without you, Norah."
This could not happen again. Not another death. Not another one because of her. She had too many already.
"No!"
The caterwaul bounced off the wall as the cupbearer desperately tried to break away from Black's iron hold. Through the haze of flailing hair that obscured her vision, she noticed Hulin and Abigail stop to look at her determined bout. Black eventually had to stop and, by mistake, he dropped her.
Landing with a grunt, Norah immediately bounded to her feet as fast as she could. A strong arm hugged her from behind much to her detestation and held on. Panic clutched at her throat, preventing any air in her lungs when Hulin smiled in amusement and began to take Abigail towards Tama's room while Black pulled her in the opposite direction.
"No! Let me go! They will kill her! Please!" Her eyes narrowed as she fought him, he didn't let her go.
A vehement snarl grew on her as she watched Abigail disappear through Tama's door, a victorious look on Bao's mother's face that she shot purposely at Norah with. "Get off me you insufferable bastard!"
Another minute of useless fighting did nothing and Erron Black held her still after she eventually ceased, seeing that it was hopeless.
"Please…" she wailed, a sob escaping her even though she knew her pleas fell on deaf ears."Please. They are going to kill her because she helped me."
The gunslinger's arm loosened for a moment but it wasn't enough for her to squirm free. With her greasy hair hanging like a veil at a funeral she watched as a tear fell from her face and dampened the stone floor. Norah waited for Hulin to deliver the final blow…
"She's your friend, right?"
The inquiry caught her off guard, especially with the perturbed voice she heard, despite the flatness of his voice, that couldn't have possibly come from him.
"What?"
His arm released her and with a firm but gentle push he placed her against the wall. Black raised a finger at her, his eyes sharp and stern. "Stay put, or I'll make you regret it."
Using the wall to hold herself up, the confused servant watched as he marched in the direction of Tama's room, flew open the door and entered.
"You must be joking! Black! That one does not belong to you either!"
She watched the direction of the door carefully, her hopefulness for what she hoped was happening betraying what she thought he was doing. Bewilderment conquered every hateful fiber she had within in her towards him as soon as he exited the room…
Holding Abigail softly by the arm and leading her in Norah's direction. Abigail looked about as surprised as Norah was and she only managed to get the motivation to move when the mercenary reached out and cupped her under the arm as well. This time she didn't resist, too dumbfounded to really do anything but mull over what was happening.
Like a banshee, Tama's voice shook the walls of the hallway, calling at their backs that none of them turned to address. "You will regret this, Black! Mark my words! This is far from over! I will have both of them back! You have won nothing!"
Norah mustered the gall to look at him, he noticed her stare and slid his eyes over to her for a glance. As always they were unreadable and blank; as fixed in his own world as the ocean was deep and mysterious. She wasn't going to find the answer to his motivations by silence, and once again had to decipher it for herself.
What the hell was he doing?
Never did he feel more self-conscious about his actions than now. Erron had no idea what to attribute it to, or why he was feeling the way her was. He walked the woman and her older Earthrealm friend, the one she put up such a fit over, through the outdoor market. Eyes were upon them, nothing more than passing inspection of the three and he could feel awkwardness seep deeper into his stomach.
He would have liked to think that maybe that was his conscious telling him he had been a proper idiot and did the commendable thing he was supposed to, even if the old woman wasn't planned. The gunslinger just wanted the girl that hated his guts.
Even now, as he walked her in streets of Z'unkaharah, he could still feel the animosity towards him. Erron didn't need to keep a hold on either of them, they walked of their own will, but he couldn't help but think that it still didn't change anything.
It wasn't because she had told him out loud, but he knew it deep down there was still a lot of damage that he had caused. Regardless, she could still show a little bit of gratitude.
Didn't have to save your hide.
Erron scoffed. He never could understand what swirled around in her head, not that he really was trying to before the calamity in his room. Enough, though! Here he was, doing his charity and atoning against his best interests.
Reptile was already halfway to the Kuatan Jungle by now, and the Zaterran didn't resist admitting that he was a fool. Hell, he was a fool. Everything he was doing went against years of the nomadic philosophy. Take care of yourself, nobody else matters.
This time was different; he went too far. Not everybody received his hatred, only those that provoked him. Everything she had done was unintentional and he needed to fix it so he could back to hunting with a clear head. This altercation was coming to an end for the both of them and he couldn't be more elated, even if she were far from it.
"How does it feel when someone is unreasonably and needlessly cruel to you?"
Unfortunately, her words still leeched on and he wasn't completely unremorseful. Selfish didn't use to be a word that meant much to him, but when he tested it with Bert's declaration that he lost his humanity, it stuck deeper than he wished to permit.
"It ain't Revelations, but you'll find being on the shit end of a woman's grudge can be about just as biblical. Your ma' was quite the practitioner of that."
Abraham had a point, even if he always found that phrase to be exaggerated. It wasn't near apocalyptic proportions, but he got the idea; at this moment, she could make War turn his red horse around in the other direction.
The girl was still mad at him, and he knew this wasn't making it up to her. Though, he knew there was a shift of tension between them as soon as he grabbed the old woman.
It kept her mouth shut and thankfully, allowed him to come with him without protest—apology or no apology given to him.
"You do not possess the compassion to do anything if it does not have prosperity for you in the end. You are too selfish for anything else…"
So what? Honestly, Erron could understand her not trusting him, but being bullheaded to point where she would rather stay in the palace instead of taking the easy way out was flat out stupid.
It was what she wanted, why stay somewhere she hated if it was just to prove how much she despised him?
"I want you to always feel guilty for what you have done…"
Again, a stupid way to show it if she wanted freedom.
"We all have to chew the gravel at one point. Whether you can climb back on the horse is the real worry."
Erron remembered the day he told him that. It was early in their experimental relationship, a couple weeks after his mother died, and he dragged him from town to town on his old stagecoach route on the treacherous Smokey Hill Trail. Town to town in that uncomfortable wagon and team of horses, running from station to station with him as a passenger in the carriage as if he were a piece of luggage.
Abraham still did his job. Sometimes, he had to sit on top of the coach in the rain while the cargo and passengers that paid their way, sat comfortably inside. The Smokey Hill Trail was exhausting, left him cold and hungry and filled him with constant fear knowing Indians were lurking around every shadow. He didn't want to be his shotgun and never recalled Abraham asking his permission. Erron hated the son of a bitch. He was convinced Abraham only wanted him there so he could point out his daddy for him so Abraham could send him down in a pine box. Erron wanted that as well, in fact, he had boiled with anger and was scared to death of running into the blue-eyed wolf that killed his mother.
Abraham was still running the coach, though! As if his job as a driver was more important than avenging his mother! It only gave him more reason to hate him and he wasn't shy showing it.
He was annoying him on purpose, trying to be as difficult as he could be towards his mother's former lover. Abraham had patience, but that candle eventually withered down to nothing, and when it did, Abraham didn't let him get away with any of his antics.
Dirt and horse shit in his coffee were his favorite and that was the last bit of wax that finally melted away. Abraham was angry and took him outside in the early morning while the passengers slept in the rest station.
Erron hated that memory, but it was when they changed their perspective of one another.
"I ain't soft to the task laid to me at hand, boy. Your daddy will tell the Devil my Griswold is the reason for his stay, as sure as it is you hate me now."
Those blue eyes glossed over with sadness. It only made it clearer that he was still mourning whatever had a hold of him when he said: "Sin's a hard thing to wear and even harder to get off, but you hear me right—I plan on wearin' it for a little longer. We all have to chew the gravel at one point. Whether you can climb back on the horse is the real worry. Your ma' almost had me in the saddle… here I am though back in the dirt and I have six iron donations to give your pa' as thanks. You wanna see them delivered, then you better start chewin'."
Black never mistook his impetus after that, but their relationship was still rocky at best for the longest time. Abraham was good to him, though, better than his real father would have ever been. Patience was his attribute, but still a peculiarity. Rarely did he raise his voice at him and never hand that he recalled. Though he was not one, you should anger despite the steadfast exterior. Erron saw him dispatch a man without hesitation, although always with some remorse — some he spent more time on than with others. Although, there was one man, Abraham never forgave himself for— and he wasn't the one that pulled the trigger.
She lifted her head and stared at a familiar sight, Erron knew what she was looking at without giving it a glance.
The location of their first meeting—the tavern he never should have ventured in to. Black had passed it on occasion and noticed it had befallen new management, well actually, old management.
Her eyes darted away and he could see her gulp uncomfortably as they walked past her old establishment, now under control by the same Outworld brothers that lingered in the doorway. They had turned it into an inhospitable den of trades, mostly dealing in the selling of ambrosial company, whatever the preference, and benumbing refreshments you did at your own risk.
Although the place definitely renovated from when she had last set foot in it, it was still dirty just from first glance at the outside.
His eyes glanced over at her and with a glare; she returned a look that translated her thoughts perfectly to him. The only reason understood what she was saying was because he was thinking the same thing.
You should have never stepped foot inside. It ruined everything.
Black had to agree. It derailed both of their lives.
Still, there were amends he could give her. The only restitution he asked for was that when he returned with Rain and Reptile, it was nothing more than a bad memory to add to his pile of many. Memories, he was trained in forgetting about. Outworld was a good teacher on how to do that…
They entered a poorer district, beyond the marketplace and that was when he saw she recognized where he was taking her to.
Her friend—the one that lit the torches at night.
With a brisk march, she got ahead of his strides and left him in the dust. Erron took that as his cue that she knew where to go from here and did not need him anymore.
"You're welcome," he sarcastically remarked to himself. The mercenary tried to turn on his heel and leave until he felt a wrinkled hand grab his arm. Usually, anyone that laid a hand on him would have gotten their fingers broken, but instead, he turned to the old woman still lingering at his side, almost with a brief flicker of discomfiture, and found appreciativeness in her eyes.
"Abigail."
The husky, blunt feminine voice caught their attention, as both of the older adults turned to see the bruised girl waiting for her to follow along. The now ex-cupbearer crossed her arms over her chest, seemingly restlessly, as Abigail gave her thanks to him.
With an unsatisfied gaze in her direction, the older woman patted his arm, as if signaling her goodbye and walked towards the younger woman.
At least someone appreciates it.
As the older Earthrealmer walked to her side of the street, he caught a small stare of upheaval, quick but noticeable before she remembered to replace it with her constant state of hostility. He be damned, but it almost looked like she was thanking him in the most humble fashion she could allow.
With that same visage of stiff, aversion, the girl turned her back and walked with the old woman.
"You were right about one thing," Black avouched. The women stopped in their tracks, the elder looking back at him while she only turned her head minutely in his direction, her eyes on the sand.
"That you were wrong about me."
There was no rebuttal in return, only in the form of her returning back to her long, heated strides away from him, with the old woman left there standing in solitude in the middle of the street.
With the elderly woman looking at him, Black grasped the brim of his hat with two fingers, tipped it and spun on his heel towards the Kuatan Jungle.