Chapter 10

I was locked back in the basement storeroom. It sounded like the mayor used all of the men already there as an excuse to sell them booze, and it quickly became quite rowdy and lively upstairs with fairly constant laughter.

Glad I could amuse them, I thought darkly as I sat in the corner on the floor. At least they hadn't tied my hands up again. The mayor had warned me there’d be another beating in it for me if I used one of the chairs, and I wasn’t willing to risk it. I’d need all the blood in me if I was going to survive a whipping.

I’d seen a whipping the previous year. One of the loggers’ boys had been caught trying to steal an axe from the smithy, and he’d been caught with witnesses present. He got five lashes, I heard he died a week later of infection. He probably would have been better off if they'd taken a hand, but they reserved that for food theft specifically. This may very well be a death sentence anyway, especially when you throw in exile as the cherry on top. Where the fuck was I supposed to go? Even on the road, if I get too far from town, I’ll be eaten by monsters. Everyone said so. I’d seen some of the beasts they dragged in for meat, and they were pretty ferocious looking, like mutated bears and wolves on steroids, with way too many teeth to be natural. Walking to another town while trying to recover from a whipping and smelling of blood? No chance. I’ll have to hole up somewhere near town. Ideally, somewhere the monsters can’t get at me. Probably need to be near the river so I can get water. Fuck, what about the crocodile things? I’ll have to chance it, can’t live without water.

My pessimistic thoughts and half-assed plans ran around and around in my head as I sat there in the corner with my arms wrapped around my knees where they pressed against my chest. I don’t cry. I never cry. Not since I was a starving infant and that was my only option for survival. Crying doesn’t solve anything. But fuck, this sucks. I wanna cry.

Stop thinking like that. Think useful thoughts. How can I maximize my chance of survival? The older boy I’d seen whipped had had his shirt on when he took his whipping, but, while it might pad the whip a little, my shirt is filthy, if that gets into my back it’ll get infected for sure. I stood up, took off my shirt and tied it around my waist. It’s a little chilly down here, but I don’t think I'll die of exposure, and I doubt they’ll give me a chance to take it off when they come for me. Anyway, I only have the one shirt. I’m going to need it to stay warm at night in the woods.

What else can I do? I couldn’t think of anything, though I spent the rest of the night trying in vain. Best I could come up with was to make them think I wasn’t afraid. What was a little more pain after all? I’m used to pain. If I can take pain for a meal, I can take pain to save my life. If I’m an exile, after all, anyone in town that wants to kill or beat on me can do so with impunity while I’m living near the outskirts. Can I make them afraid of me? How? I kept thinking all the way to dawn, having spent so long passed out I wasn't tired.

When they came for me, I was all ready for my whipping. I looked up with an insane smile. “Whipping time already? Well, let’s get to it!” I said cheerfully, standing up.

“Uh, no. Mayor said to give you a bucket of water. So, here.” One of the local water bearers dropped the bucket on the ground sloshing a good third of it onto the ground.

“Well thank you kindly, good sir. Have a lovely Harvestfest!” I gave him a jaunty two fingered salute and picked up the bucket. The man had an odd expression on his face as he closed the door and locked it again. I drank as much water as I could and used the rest to wash my back repeatedly with my shirt to get it as clean as I could. Then I rinsed out my shirt a few times to get it as clean as possible. It might help, it might not, but it’s probably not going to hurt my chances and I’ll take whatever slim increase to my odds I can get. I’m greedy for as much life as I can squeeze out of my second chance. Who knows if I’ll get a third.

By the time they came for me again, I’d pissed in the now empty bucket a couple of times and was back to shivering in my corner with my damp shirt tied around me. They walked in unceremoniously and firmly grabbed me by the shoulders, one on each side, without a word, like they thought I was going to make a run for it.

“Well, let’s get to whipping, boys. I haven’t got all day!” I stated cheerfully, and started walking faster than them, trying with all my strength to pull the much larger men along with me by their large hands on my shoulders. They looked at each other, confused, as I seemingly led them up the stairs and out the front door of the empty inn.

The square was packed with people, all of whom were silently watching me being paraded to the raised stand that they’d quickly erected in the middle of the main square where The Mountain Road met the east/west Forest Road. I smiled a broad bloody-faced grin and looked around, blinking in the bright light of the sun. It was a clear day and the sun was all but blinding after almost two days in a basement. I nodded affably at folks as I passed them, wishing the odd acquaintance a lovely Harvestfest. The more confused they looked, the broader I smiled. I wished I still had teeth so I could smile even bigger. I half dragged my escort along with me as I bounded up the steps to the stand, taking my place between the two poles they’d be binding my arms to and holding up my arms of my own accord, without being asked or forced.

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The loggers looked at each other confused again. “Come on boys! Is this your first whipping?! This is the part where you tie my arms to the poles so I don’t fall over! HA HA!” I laughed cheerfully. Some of the crowd started chuckling along with me, sounding a bit confused as they wondered what was going on.

The men began tentatively tying my arms to the posts. I looked around at the crowd and asked loudly, “Lovely weather for a whipping, isn’t it?!” This got a few more laughs.

The mayor walked up the stairs as the loggers left. “You’ve all heard his crime, now you will witness his punishment!” he yelled, so everyone could hear him.

“And I’d do it again! So you better whip me extra good!” I yelled after him as he walked off. He paused and glanced back at me. I laughed in his face like he was ridiculous.

A different logger, with arms substantially thicker than my legs, walked up the steps behind me. “Good day to you, sir! Have fun back there! HA HA!” I turned back to the crowd, “I’d just like to thank you all for helping to celebrate my tenth birthday with me on this fine, beautiful, Harvestfest day, folks! Thanks for coming to wish me a happy birthday!” Now people were really looking confused.

“Just whip the crazy bastard!” yelled someone in the crowd.

“Yeah! You heard him! Get to whipping already, you lazy fuck!” I yelled back over my shoulder. The man had been uncoiling his whip to do just that, but looked confused himself at this point. He glanced over at the mayor who emphatically signaled he was to begin immediately. The man shrugged and uncoiled the whip, drawing back his arm. I turned back to the crowd and smiled beatifically.

CRACK!

I felt the skin from my shoulder to my hip tear open and blood began dripping down my back. The pain was intense, but pain was an old friend. I didn’t react. I just kept smiling. “Anytime you’re ready, buddy!” I yelled.

CRACK!

My smile didn’t waver as I felt a parallel strip of my back tear. It’s just pain. It’s all in my head. I opened my mouth wide and yawned hugely and loudly.

CRACK!

I slowly finished my yawn. “Whenever you’re ready back there! Let’s get started!” there was a pause behind me. I imagined the man was either looking at me in disbelief or checking with the mayor again.

CRACK!

“Wait, does that noise mean you’ve already been whipping?! Why that’s barely a tickle! Practically enjoyable! Whip on, good sir! I’ve got an itch right between my shoulder blades that’s driving me crazy! Do me a favor will ya?!”

CRACK!

“You missed! What, are you incompetent?! Come on now, man! With feeling!”

CRACK!

The pain was actually getting really bad now. I didn’t think I could keep yelling to the crowd without accidentally crying out in pain. Time for plan B.

CRACK!

I started chuckling.

CRACK!

I started laughing.

CRACK!

I was all but howling with laughter.

CRACK!

Laughing like a madman. My vision tinged with red as I threw back my head and howled with laughter. I laughed and laughed at the stunned faces in front of me. I roared with laughter like it was the funniest thing in the world.

And then, when I finally thought I had control of myself again, I screamed at the top of my lungs, “WORTH IT!” and I went back to cackling hysterically, slowly fading to a maniacal chuckle.

I shook my arms up and down a couple of times to cue them to untie me, but it seemed the confused loggers hadn’t done a very good job of tying me up as my bindings just immediately slid off. Now THAT was funny. I cackled some more as I turned and made my way somewhat unsteadily to the stairs and walked back down.

Knick and Hammer were waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at me with wide eyes. I spread my arms wide. “Well hey guys! Happy Birthday!” I put my arms around them just as my legs gave out and I slumped down, mostly onto Knick since Hammer was too tall to get an arm over his shoulder. “Get me out of here,” I whispered under my breath. They turned with me and walked me quietly through the now silent crowd. I looked up to give everyone a madman’s grin and the crowd pulled away from us. My friends walked me north up the street and out of town.

As soon as we were out of sight of town Knick asked Hammer, “Where should we take him?”

“That way.” I mumbled, raising my hand off Knick's shoulder and pointing shakily to my right, into the woods. “Gonna need to be close to the river so I can get water, but not so close the river monsters eat me.”

They stopped in the middle of the road. “That’s crazy, Nameless. You need to get to the next town and get help!” pleaded Hammer worriedly.

I smiled up at him. “That’s a lovely thought my friend, but no one would help me. Plus, I smell of blood and weakness. The monsters on the road would eat me before sunset. Even if they didn’t, I’d die of dehydration without so much as a canteen. It’s at least a three day walk to the next village, and I’ve lost a lot of blood. I need to hole up somewhere near water, close enough to town that there aren’t too many beasts, and I still might die from the coming infection. Gonna hafta risk the woods and the river as close to town as I can get away with.” My vision was fading from red to black. “Shit, I’m gonna pass out. Do your best for me, guys. Please.”

And that was all I remember of my tenth birthday.