Chapter 68:
It wasn’t until Sukren was standing at the bottom of the chute on the inside of the castra-dome that he let himself break down. Chest heaving, shuddering – he had to force himself to reign it in. He could tell from the way the other serfs were glancing at him that they were sizing him up, and not to his benefit.
“So they put you in here too,” a loud voice called out. “Turning on us didn’t do you much good, did it?”
Sukren closed his eyes. Mayah’s safe, that’s all that matters, he told himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to believe his own words. Mayah’s safe, yes, she’s with the Jinkari, yes, but she hates me now, no matter what I say or do, it doesn’t reach her, I can’t reach her, I can’t reach her –
Someone shoved him from behind. Sukren stumbled forward. Someone else caught him by the arm and threw him to his knees. Sukren didn’t bother to rise, didn’t bother to turn and face his assailants. He knew there was nothing he could do to stop them. To the serfs in the castra-dome Sukren was that flaring doctor-priest who could’ve helped us against the Cursed but who sold out to fill his own belly instead!
Maybe they’re right, Sukren thought. He hid his head under his arms, preparing for the blows. Maybe that is who I am. That flaring doctor-priest. The traitor. If only I were as well-fed as they seem to think I am.
He felt a hand grab the back of his neck. “You thought you were going to get away with it, didn’t you?” a voice sneered, his breath hot against Sukren’s skin. “You thought your little mutineer friends would protect you, but you were wrong.”
A kick followed, right in Sukren’s side. He bit his lip to keep from groaning. The hand holding the back of his neck let go, and Sukren tensed his entire body, waiting for a fist to come down onto his exposed back. Instead, he felt hands haul him up into an upright position; other hands yanked his arms behind his back. Despite his determination to see things through silently and stoically, Sukren began to struggle. Then, to his relief, he heard someone nearby call out. “Let him alone. He treated enough of our sick and injured to deserve that, at least.”
Sukren chanced a look around. He could feel a serf behind him, the one holding his arms behind his back. Another serf was standing in front of Sukren, the look in his eyes speaking a clear readiness to beat the living daylights out of him. But nearby was another serf, the one who’d stood up for Sukren. “He wanted to take care of his daughter. Do you begrudge him that?”
“Doctor-priests can’t have children, fool,” the serf pinning Sukren’s arms snarled. “We don’t know who that girl is to him. And we don’t know what he was doing with her when they left the ditch to go to the Cursed. Maybe he was selling her to them.”
At that, Sukren began to laugh. He couldn’t help it. After all he’d done for Mayah – after all he’d sacrificed – to be accused of something like that!
His laughter was cut short by a blow to his jaw. Another blow followed, then another, and another. He gasped, trying not to cry out, but the pain – it was exploding across his face. Then – thank Sarana – someone was tearing the serf off his back. A moment later and Sukren was stumbling forward, blindly following his rescuer across the castra-dome’s moist dirt, away from the chute’s end.
He was led to a barrel filled with water. By then, Sukren had developed enough presence of mind to not want to plunge his unsanitized hands into what was clearly a communal barrel. There was no ladle, however, so he carefully cupped his hands, drank, then washed his bleeding face to the side of the barrel.
“Drink more, as much as you like.”
Gratefully, Sukren took another drink, then straightened up to look his rescuer in the eye. It was a Chenta village serf, with a woman – his wife? – beside him. Sukren remembered him, he’d helped him recover from a burn wound. Thal, that had been his name.
“Drink more,” Thal told him. “It never stops raining here, so we never run out of water, at least.” He gestured upward. His face throbbing, Sukren followed the movement with his eyes. Overhead a gray rain fell from a gray sky. The same blue and green breathflower leaves that covered and sheltered the bio-dome were here too, and they seemed to catch and redirect the rain in the same way: either out and down the dome’s bones or in and down a hanging vine. Directly into the barrel in front of Sukren, in fact, dripped a tangle of blossoms and breathflower vines.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
“Sometimes the leaves collect water and then dump it on your head,” Thal said. “So keep an eye up. And make sure you stay away from the edge.” He motioned at the az hedges pressing up close against the circumference of the castra-dome. “Some type of toxin on them. It kills.”
“Thank you,” Sukren managed. To his surprise, tears were in his eyes. He blinked them away. Oh Sarana, he thought. How kind they are. How warm. And how nice of them to treat me like a person and not like a traitor. Sometimes these days it seems that’s all I am, to anyone.
Thal nodded. “They slide food down sometimes, and then it’s a free-for-all, whoever gets there the fastest. Some of us get visitors though. I got to know one of the hunters from a lodge near the ditch. He’s come by with meat for me and Junya here. You think one of the Cursed that helped you and your girl will come by for you?”
Sukren hesitated. “I… I do, actually.”
It was almost funny. Who was Sukren that someone would come for him? Who was Sukren that someone would sacrifice to feed him? He’d come a long way down from his elevated seat as the guardian of the Promised Daughter. Here, nobody knew to care who Mayah was, and as a result, they cared even less who he was.
Yet Rajani would still come for him. Of that, he was certain.
***
Maybe that was why it had all gone wrong.
Sukren let out a shallow sigh. He could feel it inside him again, the sureness, the trust, the knowledge that Rajani would come. How and when had that developed? And did it explain at least partly the distance now between him and Mayah?
Lying on his back, pressed in on all sides by other sleeping serfs, Sukren tried to think. He hadn’t had many opportunities for reflection since crossing the shelterbelt, and if he were being honest, he hadn’t much wanted to reflect anyway. He hadn’t wanted to think about Lady Nari and how he’d run away from her. He hadn’t wanted to consider whether his decision to cross the shelterbelt had been a bad one. So he hadn’t. Food for Mayah, that had been his first and only priority. Everything else was too agonizing to contemplate.
But here Sukren was now, with no Mayah to feed, and a pain in his jaw strong enough to keep him awake. Although, being hungry did push him the other way. Sukren could feel it consuming him, the cloud, the fatigue, the sluggishness that came along with not getting enough to eat. He almost wanted to give into it, to fade into a restless drowsing.
But now was not the time. Clearly something – everything – had gone wrong. Now was the time to figure out how, and why.
Because it wasn’t just Rajani. It wasn’t just the Jinkari Table. Mayah had been angry at him from the very beginning, from the moment they crossed the shelterbelt – no, before then. Sukren had diagnosed her (to himself, privately) as suffering from trauma. Her experience with Pratap had severely heightened the symptoms. Sarana, Sukren had never wanted to kill someone so badly before, but he was too smart for that, wasn’t he? He’d known that word would get around and that some kind-hearted soul from the Cursed would investigate. A people didn’t feed and water unwelcome refugees out of indifference. And it had worked, hadn’t it? Sukren’s gamble had paid off. Lainla had shown up, and after that, Mayah had started eating better.
And that’s when I met Rajani. That’s when I started spending more time with Rajani instead of Mayah. Oh, I shouldn’t have, I know I should have stayed by Mayah’s side every second we were with the Jinkari, but she was so bitter and nothing I said reached her and then she called me a Rajas tail and I just wanted a break. Yes, that was it, wasn’t it? I wanted a break from her non-stop resentment. And Rajani gave me that. Rajani actually admired me for my sacrifices on Mayah’s behalf. She thought well of me. It was a relief, such a relief, to go and let Mayah be with Lainla and the other Jinkari, knowing she would be safe, knowing I wouldn’t have to deal with her for at least a few hours, while I talked to someone who wasn’t trying to control me, who valued me just for me.
Even Lady Nari never valued me just for me.
Sukren scowled. He closed his eyes. Lady Nari, Lady Nari, Lady Nari. Oh, he was definitely not yet ready to consider her. What she was thinking, how she was undoubtedly seeking him out, how displeased she would be… no.
At the same time, though, didn’t he have to think about her? After all, wasn’t it because of Lady Nari that Mayah hated him now? Sukren could have at any point this past season broken Free Serf policy and told Mayah the truth. You’re the Promised Daughter, but I couldn’t tell you, that’s why I kept my involvement with the Free Serfs a secret from you, because you had to be properly brought into the movement. It’s not because you’re a Rajas that I didn’t tell you anything, stop thinking that, just stop, stop!
But I didn’t say any of that to Mayah. Even when she called me a Rajas tail. Because I could have said it then. I could tell she was in so much pain, I could tell that all she wanted was my reassurance, and I tried to reassure her, I really tried. I was angry, yes, but I still tried. I pointed out to her all that I was doing to make sure she ate, and why would I do all that for her if I didn’t love her? I didn’t tell her what she wanted to hear, true, I couldn’t tell her that, and you know what? I still can’t.
Am I that afraid of Lady Nari?