Strength
Heavy, measured footsteps approached the wooden door, making it creak faintly on the hinges as the frame followed the bending of the floorboards, making the bound woman stir in her now lighter sleep. A few muffled words in ancient Japanese were exchanged before the footsteps moved away again, this time in a somewhat different rhythm. The door creaked again.
Sunlight flooded the room through the open windows, transforming the woman's pale face to an almost white mask with a purple mark across the bridge of her nose and thin pink streaks of already healing tissue covering several smaller cuts below her right temple. She shifted in her sleep, held back by her restraints that tightened for a moment before she relaxed again and the elaborate knots gradually loosened with her next, softer movement, relieving the pressure before the rope could cut into the bruised skin on her wrists.
Dust danced in the light, moved by a soft current of air that carried the smell of saltwater mixed with the scent of pine needles in late summer, the foul smell of volcanic gases and fiery destruction kept at bay by the change in wind direction.
Beating a soft percussion on the roof tiles, a sudden sun shower drenched the surroundings; the smell of wet ash and moisture on warmed rocks brought with it damp and the sound of dripping water. A few drops fell on the windowsill where they spattered and whetted the sleeper's face.
Lara's eyes flew open as she awoke with a sharp gasp.
Hear chest heaved with fast breaths as she blinked rapidly, turning her head frantically from side to side, then finally jerking forward, trying to get up. She made a half strangled, pained grunt as her bonds forcefully ensnared her wrists and yanked her backwards, her head slamming into the wooden floorboards as she had dislodged the bedroll with her sudden movement; biting her lower lip and tightly shutting her eyes to stifle a scream. Panting heavily, she stilled for a moment before cursing and struggling with renewed intensity to break free from the ropes that held her down; the floorboards creaking beneath her and the metal rings rattling against the wooden surface. When she started wheezing from exertion and her hands and feet finally turned a reddish blue from restricted blood flow, she collapsed with a painful sob, her head hitting the floor again with a dull thud. All motion ceased.
It was past noon when she came to again, shivering and wincing in pain.
The blanket covering her naked body had slid down during her fight to break free and she had wet herself after knocking herself out; dislodging the bedroll had positioned the headrest under her shoulder blades, arching her back and bending her neck so that her head now rested on the self inflicted bruise. She cried out in frustration and angrily scolded herself immediately after, willing her breathing to calm, then slowly looking around; the position her head had been forced into at least giving her the chance to see more than just the brittle and faded ornaments on the paneled ceiling.
The dull glow of a hazy afternoon sky cast its diffuse light on the interior, the lack of distinct highlights and shadows making the surfaces appear flat and lifeless. The floorboards had the soft surface of ancient wood sanded thousands of times, their clear lines guiding her eyes towards a small wooden table on which stood a green glass carafe, a dragon worked into the surface, its tail forming the handle in an intricate piece of craftsmanship. The matching glass stood beside it, equally flawless if slightly worn around the rim, the material looking milky and soft. Lara's lips parted a little as she softly exhaled, her eyes fixed on the still life upside down from her point of view. It was a lover's gaze. She closed her eyes for a second and shook her head, moaning a curse as she scraped the swelling bruise on the back of her head over the wood. Next to the table was a wooden tub, the wood so worn and cracked over the entire surface that it should disintegrate at the slightest touch. She bent her head further back, bringing the window at the far end of the room into sight. Like the window directly above her, it was covered in bronze grating, the alloy of a dull, reddish green colour, the wall fixings corroded but still looking solid.
'Damn it!'
The loudness of the curse in the quiet room made her jump, watching the door in alarm, holding her breath, waiting. Nothing happened for a while. Then, just as she had begun to breathe again, there was the distant sound of heavy footsteps. With another curse like a stifled growl she tore at her bounds again, making the metal rings beat an unsteady rhythm.
'Clack – clack – clackety – clack – creak.'
She tossed her head towards the sound, leaving a smear of blood on the floor as she strained to make out the source of the sound. Having been given ever so slightly more space, her right hand had just enough leeway to lift it a half inch from the floor. A corner of the metal plate that held the ring was visible in the splintered wood, a small cloud of dust still settling around it. As her muscles started shaking and her right hand was turning an unhealthy blue colour, there was another barely audible sound of ancient wood fibers losing their fight. She panted heavily, droplets of sweat beginning to cover her body, and pulled again until the rope left bleeding gashes in her wrist and the floorboard finally gave, followed by a sudden, dull metal sound as her arm was stopped in mid motion with the soft squelch of her elbow being strained beyond its natural limits.
She cried out in pain and anger as she pulled at the now almost freely moving ring on its mounting plate that was anchored with a T-cross fixing on the underside, the slow dry rot of the batten it once had been driven into giving it enough room for Lara to pull it through the crumbling material. It did not fit through the hole the mounting plate had left in the still sturdy boards though, giving her nothing but a rattling sound for her efforts and her blood that had begun to drench the rope.
The footsteps reached the door, again followed by a muffled conversation with but one word clear enough to understand.
'...awake...'
The footsteps moved away again, accompanied by the faint metallic sounds of someone moving quickly and purposefully in plated armor with a weapon at his side.
A final, half-hearted pull towards her head again produced nothing but a dull thud. Slowly, she let her head and arm sink down onto the floor again, only to jolt half upright again as something sliced open the back of her right hand. It was the sharp corner of the mounting plate, now an inch above the floor as the anchor had seemingly lodged itself against something. Tentatively pressing against it did not make it budge. Lara wrenched her upper body forcibly to the right, twisting her left shoulder into an unnatural angle and bending her battered left flank as far as it would go across the headrest under her shoulders, making her body arch down to the hip as she gasped with pain and effort. The tiny sharp edge was hers.
Alternately slicing fibres of blood soaked rope and skin while red sweat stained the floor around her she hacked away at her restraint until it gave with a soft, squishy sound; making her clench her fist in triumph before throwing herself around to free her left wrist with her cut and trembling fingers.
The footsteps returned, a moment later followed by the noise of two pairs of boots being planted firmly on the floor, the silky unsheathing of weapons and the clinking of chainmail on a straightening body.
'Come on... come on... come ON!'
Having been designed to avoid self tightening, the knotwork gave after little time despite the clumsiness of her abused fingers; and crying out hoarsely without trying to suppress it anymore, she shot upright; catching sight of the little pile of weaponry still sitting forgotten on the other side of the room. Bending forward to release her ankles, a rasping gasp caught in her throat, turning into a coughing fit, forcing tears to her eyes and leaving her shaking as she spat out pink phlegm while trying to stop her bloodied hands from trembling.
'Lara?'
A cool draught swept dust across the floor as the door opened; a white clad figure entering in graceful strides and Lara jerking her head around upon hearing a familiar voice. She forced the words out between gasps.
'Sam! Oh God... I thought... I'd – I'd lost... you! Please...!'
Samantha stopped dead, surveying the scene before her, furrowing her brows and tilting her head slightly to one side. She slowly shook her head, her face unreadable.
'Not know tongue yours well yet. Use mine.'
The Sun Queen straightened up, quickly turning away to her guards and addressing them in an icy voice.
'Have the bedding she has soiled exchanged and warm water prepared. Remove her possessions. You will stand guard within this room until I have finished; then I shall deal with your failure to protect her from further harm.'
Lifting Lara up with two hands in dusty, dark and stained leather gloves under her arms, the stormguard shoved the dirty and threadbare mattress away with his boot, allowing a servant to replace it in total silence. She struggled weakly against him; but having no leverage due to the still intact bounds at her ankles spreading her legs apart, all she achieved was to smear his polished armor with coagulating blood and grime as he lowered her down in a vice-like grip; pushing her onto her back again and spreading her arms out above her head, making her cry out through gritted teeth by stretching the twisted elbow as he held her hands in place to be bound once more while she had nowhere to look but on the reflection of her burning face on the emotionless mask above her.
Wearing her crown and with the white robes creating a flower of silk on the floor for her to settle into, Himiko knelt down at Lara's side once more, the green carafe and glass in her hands casting emerald, flowing shadows on her garments. Covering her left hand with a piece of cloth, she lifted Lara's head a little and offered her the precious glassware containing a cool liquid which disappeared in greedy gulps, interspersed with rasping coughs, thin rivulets wetting the survivor's reddened cheeks.
Her sigh was painful as she opened her bloodshot eyes again, looking up at the Sun Queen in quiet expectation, a tiny, sad smile flickering over her cracked lips as she beheld the ancient piece of artful craftsmanship in Himiko's hands. It did not go unnoticed, the queen tilting her head with a soft and curious expression before carefully putting the carafe down beside her where Lara would be able to see it on turning her head. From within her robes she then produced a small vial that upon uncorking filled the room with the smell of a strong distillate, the colourful aromas painting the air with the fragrances of herbs on Yamatai's windswept cliffsides.
'Drink. It will help you.'
It took the assistance of her guardsman to hold Lara's head still and force her mouth open, the oily liquid staining her chin and making her gag as Himiko poured with an emotionless face, waiting for Lara to swallow and first releasing her as her throat bobbed up and down in the telltale motion. Turning her head back to her prisoner after gracefully assuming her position again, her eyes widened slightly at the sight of a dark and growing stain beside Lara's head who chose that moment to spit the remaining drops in Himiko's general direction. With slow and deliberate movements, the queen wiped the stains of her robes and of the back of her left hand with which she had covered her face, fixing the bound woman who stared at her defiantly with an interested gaze. She nodded slightly, speaking in low and measured words, clearly pronouncing every syllable as she held eye contact.
'The true warrior refuses to let his senses be dulled as being alert is at the core of his being. Very well.'
Seeing her patient slowly pale, she let her eyes wander over the body before her in silence, tracing each of the many cuts that all had lost the signs of inflammation over night. She nodded again and turned her attention to the fresh cuts and bruises, shaking her head slightly, before focussing on Lara's left flank once more. The contrast to the white robes made the bruised skin look almost black, with Lara writhing under the systematic touches and prodding by Himiko's hands that spoke of routine and experience.
'The bad blood has been cleansed by the touch of my light as you lay in darkness. Yet you are not out of danger and foolishly brought yourself close to the end today by stabbing yourself with your splintered bones. I would have you rest and prepare, but you will not have it... so we will remedy this now.'
'What? Wait! This is mad...'
The rasping outburst brought with it another coughing fit, earning her a shake of the head as Himiko ordered the guard to Lara's side, filling her view of the afternoon sky behind the bronze grating with a dark demon who pushed a piece of wood wrapped in cloth between her teeth, clamping her mouth shut with his gloves that smelled of dust, worn metal and old blood.
Darting back and forth, Lara's eyes found the green carafe at her side, gazing upon the shimmering decorations with the focus of a drowning man spotting a piece of slippery driftwood. Her laboured breathing calmed somewhat as she stopped gagging on the object in her jaws; testing it with her teeth instead. Himiko's voice sounded detached and distant as she lost herself in concentration.
'This will hurt.'
Lara's face went white as she bit down hard.
Her ribcage moved.