Arc 15: Rot-Wood and Rust-Flakes
“Death is simple. It's final, and it makes people scared. We want them scared.”
* Merigold Thresh
- - -
Why aren't they hurting us?
They want to; I know they do. It's in how strongly they jostle and shove at each other for the best view; how much the sight of us, their prey, caught in their trap delights them. It's in the wide, wet stretch of their smiles and the eager gleam in their lamp-lit eyes; in how they seem to caress the leather grips of their clubs, as though to savor what they could use them for. They want to hurt us, but they're not. What's stopping them?
There's a crossbow aimed at me, the point of its bolt primed to punch through my spine. Fear of it holds me where I'm knelt. It won't miss. He won't, and he knows it. It turns his sneer into a smile; sharpens the vicious glee in his eyes. Is it him who holds back the rest? They won't approach him, let alone pass by. Is it respect that does it? Is it fear?
His aim doesn't waver. “Clarke!” he shouts, gaze leaving mine to land on her, frozen at the prow of the boat. She is furious; she is terrified. “Clarke, I so much as – think – you're reaching for that ice, your girl here'll spend her last breaths screaming, you understand?!” Her head jerks in a nod. “Say you understand, Clarke, I want you to say it!”
Her throat works. “I understand,” she rasps.
“Louder!”
“I understand!”
His smile manages to widen; manages to find more teeth. “Good girl. Now,” his attention turns to Juliana. No thunderhead gathers in her brow; no flash of lightning in her eyes; only sorrow and hatred, turned inward. “get your ass out of there, Captain, and be quick about it.”
She tries. She's exhausted and her body betrays her, but she tries. The boat rocks and her knees buckle; she catches herself on the side of the pier, its cracking boards digging splinters into her hands. The rabble laughs, their pleasure rippling through them from front-to-back as word spreads.
There's a crossbow aimed at me, the point of its bolt primed to punch through my spine. Fear of it holds us still while Juliana struggles and, eventually, succeeds. She's on her knees and breathing hard; shame and humiliation burning in her face. They like this, too: the sight of the one they fear brought low. “Finally!” the Guardsman whines, rolling his eyes, “Alright, Clarke, your turn. Try and be faster than this one, would you?”
They gather us there, right next to the boat we'd have sailed to freedom, to safety, if our luck had been better; if we had been smarter; if Juliana had been faster. We're made to sit on our hands and keep our heads bowed, children punished for their disobedience. They love this; take turns to gloat and jeer and laugh at their own wit; so very proud of themselves.
Then they start saying other things; horrible things, mostly to Clarke and me. They talk about how our bodies, our faces, and how appealing they find them. They talk about which of us they would rather have. Dread curls around my heart; revulsion crawls beneath my skin. Clarke is pale as death beside me, eyes wide and distant. Of Juliana, they say how much a trial it is to find about her worth the effort. All the while she glares at the splintering pier, tears and helpless rage burning in her eyes.
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Hatred, unlike any I've known before, burns in my blood. For the first time in my life, I pray to the accursed moon above: Give me my knife; give me Milo's sword, wreathed in magi's fire, and I will kill them to the last. I will wreak such pain and torment that You will think me your favored son, resurrected from the ash I made of him!
Of course, there is nothing. No weight of steel graces my hand, nor burst of murderous skill into my mind. I am as I was before: a caught, helpless girl; waiting for whatever comes for her, and soon it does.
The rabble falls to silence from back-to-front. They shuffle, parting in deference from the path of someone. Even the Guardsman turns from us, the aim of his crossbow shifting with him. “Madam Mayor,” he greets.
“Rolly,” Merigold answers, favoring him with a smile. “Excellent work.”
He dips his head, pleased, and steps aside. She folds her arms and regards us with a pleased and prideful glimmer in her green eyes. “Why,” she says, “it if isn't the 'Hero of the Gate'.”
- - -
What is she doing here? What is she doing here? I don't understand. Merigold flicks her eyes to mine; smiles a little, there in the corner of her mouth. She winks at me.
Bitch.
She's more to say, it would seem, but is prevented from saying it by Juliana; who interrupts before Merigold can do anything more than open her mouth. “And what,” she asks, hoarse and insolent, “is a humble civil servant like – you – doing here?”
Merigold's annoyed, her nose flaring, but she just shrugs and says, “My civic duty. Humbly,” and folds her hands together. “The better question is: what are – you – doing here? No, no,” she objects, holding out her palm. “don't say anything. I'm not in the mood to be lied to, so –”
She's interrupted again; again, by Juliana, who rasps, “Neither am I, so feel free to stop whenever you'd like.”
I watch the line of Merigold's jaw jump, her eyes narrow, and her mouth purse. She stares at Juliana; measuring, regarding, then says mildly, as if discussing the weather, “Rolly, if she interrupts me again, feel free to use the butt of that crossbow on one of the girls.”
“Which one?” Rolly asks.
“Pick your favorite,” she answers with a shrug, her eyes still on Juliana. “The skinny one's Royah, if it helps.”
He grunts.
“Now,” Merigold muses, “where was I? Ah, yes,” and she turns on her heel to address the silent, watchful rabble, “Quite the tricky customers, weren't they? I'll be sure to speak with Captain Vance about a bonus for tonight's good work! How does that sound?”
The rabble sends up a cheer; more clapped shoulders and patted backs. All they did was run around and blow their whistles. Children can do more. They have. Merigold calls for quiet by patting the air with her hands. Once she's gotten it, she says, “For now, though, you're needed at your usual posts. Mr. Pike and I have these miscreants well in hand; don't we, Mr. Pike?”
Rolly Pike's eyes, and crossbow, are on us. They don't waver as he answers, “We do, Madam Mayor.”
The rabble disperses, followed by Merigold cheerfully warning them not to spend the whole of their much-anticipated bonus in one place. It's only once they're well out of sight does she turn back to us; in that same instant, her wide, beaming smile drops away. She looks us over, passing Clarke and I by quickly before landing on Juliana. She wonders, “What am I going to do with you?”
“Whatever you want,” Juliana answers, meeting that green-eyed gaze with her own, “but let the kids go.”
Clarke is faster than me, but I'm close behind her in screeching denial. Merigold rolls her eyes. Rolly Pike takes two swift steps forward, ignores me, and brings the butt of his crossbow down onto the side of Clarke's head. The sound of wood striking bone, of her jaw snapping shut; they silence me. She falls to her side, dazed and bleeding. The point of the bolt stops me from going to her.
I know You aren't listening; I know You don't care. Drop them both dead where they stand, and everything I am will be Yours.
A vengeful prayer, heartbroken and hateful; it goes unanswered, just like the last.
Rolly Pike moves back to where he was. Merigold winces at us, falsely sympathetic. “I did warn you,” she says, “and you did hear me, so...that's on you. As for your little offer,” she hums, thoughtful, “I'm not seeing a reason to bargain, here. I already hold your lives in my hand. You have nothing; why should I bargain with you?”
“What do you want with them?!” Juliana snarls, “Why do they matter so much to you?!”
“They don't,” Merigold admits freely, “I don't really care about them at all, not even the Royah girl; it's – you – I want.”
“Why?!”
“Mind your temper,” Merigold chides, then, “I shouldn't tell you, I know, but this is...a big moment for me. I want you, Captain Morrow, because you're the only officer of any law in the Timberland that won't take bribes, can't be bought, and'll break any hold on you blackmail gives me. I want you because once you're gone, it's over; I've won.”