Tag Archives: felix

LfBH – 14: Parting Ways

An intensely rocky start back into LfBH, so I hope you’ll forgive me.  A more action-packed piece will be up on Monday.  Thanks to everyone who enjoys LfBH for your patience. <3  LfBH is nothing without you.

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There was little time. The skies, even here, were a dismal gray, as if Blackford Hill was reaching out to offer its misery like a plague upon the people of the small village. Every time a guard entered the village, he brought with him a depressing silence that lasted for hours after he left. Phaedra knew that their presence was wearing thin on the residents here, and so, once they were healed enough to move about safely, she proposed they leave.

Felix was unhappy. He knew his father would be looking for him. He knew that this wasn’t over for him, and if Silas insisted on tagging along (which he knew he would), then things would be very dangerous for him, indeed. As far as the young Count was concerned, his life had been thrown away the moment he set the flame to that temple. The gallows were the place for him, but Silas had a chance at a new life.

Tully, on the other hand, was eager to be out of here; eager to be as far away from their prison hellhole as humanly possible. She wanted to go home. She wanted to be where it was safe, warm, and dry. She wanted Phae and a life of their own.

Standing at the mouth of the village, where the only broad road led in, the stonework ending at the edge of the populated area and melding into packed dirt, Phaedra shouldered a crude canvas bag with a single strap over her shoulder, and glanced to Tully.

“I’m ready…” Tully responded to the wordless request. “I don’t want to leave them behind, Phae, can’t they come with us?”

Phaedra sighed. “They’re a liability to us, just as we are to them. It’s safer for everyone if we split up. We need the best chance possible at not being picked up again.”

“I suppose that means we’re not going back to The Willow?”

“Tully…”

“It’s fine, Phae… it’s fine. Let’s go, alright? We’re losing daylight.” Tully turned to face the road, just as Silas came bounding up behind them, a hand falling heavily on Phae’s shoulder, accompanied by a good-natured laugh.

“Thought you’d run off just like that, yeah? I don’t think so,” Silas laughed as Felix sauntered up beside him, and cast his eyes away.

“We didn’t want to make this any harder,” Phae explained, and gave a faint smile as she turned. For as skeptical as she had been of these two men during their first hours together, she had gained more respect and affection for them during their time here than she had expected. They were good friends, even Felix, the mouthy pain in the ass. It was because they were good friends that they deserved a fair chance; it would be selfish to hold them back by traveling with them.

Tully threw her arms around Felix and kissed his cheek. “If we ever go back home, I’ll find a way to let you know. You can come visit. You’d love the bakery, Felix.”

Felix’s cheeks flared a bit red and he smiled faintly. Friendship had never been something he had been good at, but with Tully, it was so easy. She a sweet person with good intentions and a love for just about everyone.

“I’ll come visit with you, I promise. At the bakery, or elsewhere, I’ll find you when things settle, Tully. Maybe Silas will be with me.” Another faint smile.

“Don’t look so grudging. He likes you. Let him stay. You need someone to support you, Felix. You can’t possibly let yourself be miserable forever. Let him enjoy your company, and for the love of the Gods, try to enjoy his, hm?”

Another dark blush from Felix and he laughed. “It makes me feel guilty.”

“You shouldn’t. Go. We’ll talk again soon. I promise you.” She shoved him lightly, and turned to take Phaedra’s hand, a slight wave behind her to signal their departure. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she inclined her head, as if doing so would keep them from falling.

“It’s for the best,” Phaedra stated yet again, giving her hand a little squeeze. “It’s safer for all of us if we split up. And our work will take us to places where they have no business being.”

Sniffling in finality, Tully brought her hand across her eyes and nodded. “I know. And Felix has business with his father. I just hope he comes out of it in one piece.”

Phae gave a grim nod, and kissed her beloved’s fingers. “We all will.”

Felix cast a glance to Silas, his eyes sliding over him head to toe, and he gave a very bare, helpless smile. If Silas were ever to change his mind, Felix knew that it would be now and he would be left alone. Silas was a good man, and he knew that he liked him, but how could the Count expect someone like Silas to suffer his upper-class woes?

“That was hard, yeah?” Silas drawled, drawing on his cigarette and tossing it aside.

“Smoking is disgusting…” Felix muttered and turned toward him, pulling his cap over his head and meandering alongside Silas.

“I know. So, what’s the plan, Count?”

Felix rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know. Go to my father. Kill him. Take what he doesn’t deserve and try like hell to do some sort of good with it, I expect. We need to do something about Blackford Hill.”

Silas slipped a hand discreetly into his and tugged him between two buildings, where he promptly stole his lips in a reassuring kiss. “Let’s do that, then.”

Felix swallowed hard and stared at him, before he dropped his eyes to their clasped hands. “Let’s,” he breathed with a faint nod. “Yes. Well, to my father’s then.”

With a single glance back to the departing women as he came out of the narrow alley, Felix drew a breath and pulled Silas down the road in the opposite direction.

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LfBH in print?

Two posts in one day, I know, I’m flooding you guys!

This is important, though, and it concerns you all, my amazing awesome readers. <3  I have a project in the works in my head, and I need your input.  I’m going to be trying a spiffy self-pubbing venture and I need to know what you think.  Should I edit and revamp LfBH and put that in print, or do you want to see a completely new piece of fiction from me?

I’ll be using IndieGoGo to raise funds to have the project completed and given decent cover art.   This is your chance to see LfBH in hard copy (or something else if you’ve all had enough of LfBH!)

Opinions, please! <3

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LfBH 13: Trust

The small village they’d managed to find was a godsend. The people were so sympathetic and willing to help. Silas was just waiting for someone to yell ‘Surprise!’ and burst in, yanking them out of this safe haven. A safe haven that was a barn. Felix hadn’t stopped complaining since they arrived, but Silas was just happy to have a dry place to lay his head. After all, the townspeople were kind enough to give them first aid supplies and food, even a pile of blankets to soften the hay beds and keep warm.

“If you die, I swear I’ll have you resurrected so I can personally beat you to death,” Felix said irritably as he wrapped Silas’ battered ribs, the bullet hole in his right shoulder was already doctored and patched the best Felix knew how. “I’m not a fucking doctor.”

“You’re not much a conversationist, either, Count,” Silas grinned, his face pale though he was making the effort to keep the other from worrying. Felix was an unpleasant little bastard when he was worried.

“Conversationalist.”

“I’ll talk how I want. If you need me to, I can just sit quiet an’ look pretty, but I got no one but you to impress out here.” He poked him in the ribs. “And I’d say you’re pretty impressed by my amazing act of heroism back there, huh?” Another grin.

“Shut up, you could have died.” Felix shoved his companion’s head back on the pile of hay. “You still could.”

Silas couldn’t help laughing, though it was through a grimace, a sense of humor didn’t do well for broken ribs.

“Hilarious, I know,” muttered Felix, shaking his head. “But… you know, thank you… for what you did. We’d never have gotten out without you and Phaedra. Even if we lost that girl they tried to save. I wasn’t happy about her being dragged along at first… but I never wanted to see that happen to her.”

“Me, either, but it’s not like we can go back now. We can’t let losing one person take us down. We have too much riding on this escape…. I’m not going back there, Felix, not for anyone.”

The Count only nodded somberly, patching up his companion to the best of his ability—which wasn’t exactly top notch. He was far from a doctor. In fact, the slightest scratches he’d retained as a child were tended to professionally. Tearing bullets out of living human flesh was nerve-wracking, stomach-churning, grueling and unpleasant work. Besides, Silas’ muffled screams into the folded up bridle they’d pulled off the barn wall were enough to make Felix’s hands shake so violently it was a small wonder he didn’t make things worse.

Once finished, the temporary doctor plopped down next to Silas and sighed, arms around his knees as he looked up into the spider-laden rafters. The whispers of Phaedra and Tully two stalls over caught his attention, though he couldn’t make out much of what they were saying. Sleeping in a barn, on damp hay, dirty and caked in flaking blood, his fingers stained from his tending to Silas…. Still it was better than Blackford Hill.

“You’re thinkin’ too hard.”

Felix glanced to Silas, who used what little strength he had to yank Felix down beside him, his unaffected arm looping around him to pull him against his chest.

“Don’t touch me,” Felix grumbled, though there was little weight behind it.

“Shhh, you’re ruining it.”

Felix rolled his eyes. He’d just ripped bits of metal out of the man, he still he was completely placid and ready to just go to sleep. “Shouldn’t you be in excruciating pain?”

“I am, and you’re making it worse by bitching. Shh.”

Felix had to admit, relaxing against the warmth of another body was a special sort of comfort. Or maybe it was just Silas’ body. If anyone else had put a hand on him at this point—well, it wouldn’t have been pretty.

“You trust me, don’t you?” he asked, tilting his head up a bit to look at Silas, before he propped himself up on one hand to he could look down at him.

“Why wouldn’t I? You planned this whole thing, and here I am, right? That’s not nothin’.”

Felix gave a little nod, though he didn’t seem satisfied. His eyes drifted down to to the bandage on his counterpart’s shoulder, his fingers brushing over the slowly-blooming bloodstain.

“What?” Silas stilled his hand, and kissed his fingers, dried blood and all.

Felix turned away, cheeks flaring red. “Nothing. Just worried. It’s a big plan. I don’t know if we can—”

“We can because you want it bad enough. It’s going to work out.” Again, Silas pulled him down and kissed the top of his head. “I trust you. Go to sleep.”

Felix rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue. “My father will know I escaped. He’ll know I have people with me.”

“Then we’ll compensate. If we can bring down your father, Felix, we can bring down Blackford Hill, and any other places like it in your father’s lordship.”

That was true. Felix wanted revenge more than anything, but his will for revenge was fading now that he was out. Now that the pressure of torture and starvation was lifted. Now that Silas wasn’t dying and he didn’t have the Overseer breathing down their necks about every little thing. Though, if removing his father from the equation brought the ruin of Blackford Hill, then it would be well worth pushing forward.

“Alright. We’ll continue with the plan,” he offered finally, and gave a small, resolute nod.

Silas smiled and gave the Count a firm squeeze. “Good. We’ll plan it out better if it puts you at ease. Just relax and sleep for now. We have time.”

Time. Just last night, time was what they were running short on. Now, they were reasonably safe, even if they had to move within a few days. They had time, and Silas trusted him. Satisfied in that, Felix finally closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

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LfBH 12: Stitches – revisited

Do you guys remember Stitches?  It was the first flash fiction I wrote involving Phaedra and Tully.  A Letter from Count Malrais was the first, and together, they sparked Letters from Blackford Hill.   I had to add and alter a bit, but here’s Stitches, revisited.  Enjoy. <3

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“You haven’t even flinched.”

Phaedra’s eyes flicked up to catch a dreamy smile on her friend’s lips, before glancing back down again. The gash on her forearm pinched together at the top when Tully pulled the thread taut, tying off the third in a series of stitches.

“Would you rather I were howling in pain?” asked Phaedra, her voice soft as it always was, though for once a light humor crept into her tone. The woman was always so severe, Tully couldn’t help but worry for her sometimes.

“Of course not,” replied Tully, pressing the point of the curved needle through the split flesh. Still, Phae didn’t react. “I just… admire your strength.”

She was still smiling. Phaedra gave her head a light shake. Tully baffled her sometimes. It was a long fight to get out of that colony, free from the fences and the locks, and rifles trained on them every second of every day; still, Tully smiled. Even when they were captured, bound and carted off to that awful place, Tully still managed to smile. Fiona was left at the edge of the woods, lifeless. Phae knew Tully was pushing back the pain that dwelt there; the pain that exploded from her love when Fiona took that bullet. There were tears, tantrums, fury from everyone else, dozens of others all desperate for answers….

Tully tried to stay on the bright side.

Phaedra wasn’t aware of any bright side.

Their lives had gone completely out of control, all because they had chosen to share an inn room while Phaedra helped Tully find a cure for that awful cough she’d had. Fortunately, the cough was alleviated, but they had hardly gotten their things packed to go back to work at the bakery, when the door came crashing off the hinges—

Phaedra shook her head and sighed. Going back to the bakery seemed useless now. Would they go so far as to wait for Phae and Tully where they worked?

The small town they’d stumbled across in their escape had no knowledge of the horrors of Blackford Hill. They knew only that the government had a compound there, but were left in the dark about what was held within it. The soldiers made it clear that they would shoot anyone on sight if they came snooping around. Now, huddled in yet another inn room, together, though this time accompanied by Silas and Felix—two married couples on holiday? Could they pull that off?—Phae submitted to Tully’s pleas to stitch the gash in her arm, and rub balm on the bruises and scrapes.

It killed Phae to see the blond’s arm wrapped up in blood-stained linen. Tully deserved so much better.

“Done.” Tully started packing up her first aid kit, and Phaedra lifted her arm to look over the other woman’s handy work. The stitches were clean, and the cut wasn’t even bleeding through the gaps.

“Thanks,” murmured Phaedra, and grabbed a strip of cloth that had been torn from Tully’s underskirt, starting to wrap the newly-sewn arm. Torn and used clothing was suddenly a luxury she’d never appreciated before. “Where did you learn to do that, anyway?”

A sad smile was cast over Tully’s shoulder as she tucked her things away. “I wasn’t always a baker, Phae. Somehow, I don’t expect you were, either.”

Their eyes met, and a silence passed between them, understanding and steadying. Something in that silence earned a smile from Tully, and Phaedra’s eyes fell to the fabric on her arm.

“No. Not always.”

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LfBH 11: Sacrifice

It took me a long time to write this.  I hate it.  It didn’t want to be written, and it killed me to trudge through.  This is what I came out with, so this is what the blog is getting.  Bleh.  Onward, ho.

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“I don’t trust them.”

Tully glanced over her shoulder at Phaedra as they began slinking through the dark, ankle-deep in mud. She could hardly blame her companion for her doubt, but if they stayed here because of mistrust, then they’d definitely die. At least this gave them some glimmer of a chance.

Or so she hoped.

“No one wants to stay here, Phae…. If we don’t trust them, who will we trust?” she whispered, but heard no response. Phaedra’s mind was more than just in the moment. It was terrifying to see her reacting to the lunacy they put them through here. Tully could see her rash actions, but something always told her there was more to it. Where they saw Phaedra reacting in the heat of the torture, Phaedra’s mind was five steps ahead of them. Nothing was ever put to chance with her.

She was vicious.

“Fine. But if they want to escape, and wind up getting in the way—”

“Don’t suggest it. Please,” Tully hissed, and kept walking toward that rickety porch on which she’d met Felix only hours earlier. Before they even rounded the corner of their own bunk house, Tully and Phaedra lurched forward, a force from behind knocking them both forward several steps. Tully gasped, and Phae spun around and pinned the culprit to a wall.

“Nonono! I’m sorry!” Fiona wailed in a hushed tone, cringing as she struggled against her own weight, Phaedra’s fists balled in her shirt.

“Are you crazy?” Phae scolded and let her go, watching Fiona slump a bit and burst into quiet tears.

“I’m sorry, I really am!” She sniffled, hugging herself against the cold. “You can’t leave me here, please… please don’t….”

Tully sighed, and rubbed her forehead with her fingers, trembling hard. “Come on, then. Be quiet. We can’t babysit you, Fiona, you have to handle this on your own, alright? When we move, you move, and if you fall behind—”

“I won’t! I won’t fall behind, Tully, I promise,” she sniffed again, and rubbed her eyes with the back of her sleeved hand.

Phaedra shook her head, and turned away, motioning them along. She loved Tully for her compassion, but it was likely to get them killed if they weren’t careful. Fiona was a sweet girl, but she was flighty and panicked easily. ‘Babysitting’ was a very accurate word for what this would turn into, Phae was sure.

The gray, illusory feel of dusk enveloped them as they passed around the bunk houses and through the mud pits, braced against the cold. It felt like an eternity before they finally reached that tilted old porch, Tully leading the way onto the sloped platform. Felix and Silas were pressed against the wall, speaking quietly, until Silas spotted the three women and nodded in their direction. Felix turned and drew a breath.

“You made it,” he smiled a little to Tully, and opened the door behind them. It was dark, and Silas slid in on his hands and knees, setting up a few candle nubs and lighting them with a pilfered match.

“We did. We brought Fiona,” whispered Tully, and glanced back to the quaking redhead behind her.

Felix looked them all over and gave a nod. “That’s more than I expected, but I think we can compensate. Come in.”

The three women followed the pair into the shack that had, as far as Tully knew, gone unused since their arrival. When they stepped inside, dusty crates with clothing hanging out over their edges loomed in the dim twilight. Glancing down at herself, Phaedra cursed, touching the filthy bag-like dress she was wearing. It was ridiculous that they kept these things in bulk. How many more people were they expecting here?

“Look.”

Phae glanced over to see Felix on his knees in the center of the room, spreading things out amongst the stubby candles. Pages and even a pencil pilfered from the office were laid out neatly in minutes, and Felix drew a deep, steadying breath.

“We need to make this quick before someone sees the candle light through the windows.” He slid his hands over a page. “These are all parts of one map, and we managed to arrange them together. Look. This is Blackford Hill, here.” He tapped a finger against a fenced octagon on the map. “We’re right here.” His fingers slid over a little black rectangle, and gave it a little tap. “It puts us close enough to the fence to make a break for it. The mud has gotten so out of hand just behind this building that it’s made one of the fence posts sink a little. If we can dig under the fence while the ground is soft, we can make it into these woods here.” Another tap of his finger and he slid it through a patch of puffy-looking treetops.

“Fantastic plan, but what’s beyond those woods?” Phae asked, staring Felix down. “We can’t just run off blindly—”

“The river,” stated Silas, arms folded as he leaned on the wall behind his companion. “If you follow the river north, it leads to a small town—the one I was taken from. I’ve got friends there. We’ll be alright if we can make it.”

Sated, Phaedra gave a small nod, and looked over the map. “What else do we need?”

“Nothing. It’s risky, but it’s now or never,” Felix replied, gathering up the pages and folding them, stuffing them under one of the crates as Silas leaned down to blow out their candles.

Fiona’s hand slid into Tully’s and gave a squeeze, trembling a bit. Tully smiled weakly, and pulled Fiona into a gentle hug, conscious of her injuries.

“It’s going to be fine. We’re getting out of here, I promise.”

“Can… I stay with you and Phae? I don’t have anywhere to go,” Fiona whispered, tears welling in her eyes as she slid her arms around Tully.

Glancing to Phae, Tully offered a pleading look, earning a small nod from her love. “Of course you can,” she answered without missing a beat, pulling back and tucking a bit of hair behind Fiona’s ear.

“Probably shouldn’t dilly dally here, kids,” noted Silas, tugging the door open and letting Felix out ahead of him. “I expect we’ve drawn a bit of unwanted attention. You hear ‘em?”

Phae cringed. “I hear them. Come on, let’s go.” She snatched Tully’s hand, and dragged her and Fiona off the porch at an awkward jog behind her. “We’re ill-prepared. We should have found a means of getting provisions.”

“It’s an escape, not a camping trip,” muttered Silas, wading through the ankle deep mud without a moment’s hesitation. The fence post dipped where they said it would, leaving the chain-link warped and sunk beneath the mud. It was almost imperceptible, hidden behind the storage building with the rickety porch. No one would have guessed—unless they were looking for a way out.

Felix dropped to his knees by the fence and started pulling handfuls of mud away,piling it as best he could at his side. As Felix dug, Silas pulled at the fencing, tugging it back with grunts and groans, his hands bruised and bleeding as he used all of his strength. Phae stood beside him, wrapping her fingers around the links as she pulled along with him. Tully was beside Felix, digging frantically, pushing and pulling mud from under the fence, creating a gap.

“Fiona, slide under…” Tully panted, smearing some mud from her cheek with an equally filthy forearm. “If you can get under, you can push the fence while they pull and Felix and I can get through and push it so Phae and… and—”

“Silas,” Felix corrected as he caught his breath.

“Silas can slide under behind us.”

Fiona gave a faint nod, and crawled beneath the fencing, sliding through the mud with a groan. On the other side, she threw all of her weight into the woven wire, shoving Phae and Silas back a few steps. Though, once they got back to pulling, the fence lifted and Felix shoved Tully through.

“Stop!”

Sirens sounded, the five escapees stopped dead in their tracks. Men with guns were pouring in from all sides, schlucking through the mud like a stampede of horses. The night had closed in, and all they could see were the flashes of gun metal, belt buckles, and coat buttons in the moonlight like glowing eyes in the darkness—advancing.

“Felix, go,” Silas said, and shoved the count with his foot. “Go! I’ll be right behind you!”

“I’m not leaving you—”

“You’re not! I’ll be right behind you!” Silas grabbed Phae’s arm, and she swiftly disengaged him. Shocked, he stared at her. “We don’t have time for this.”

“You’re going to need all the help you can get,” stated Phae, unflinching, staring him down. The guards were closing in, and a shot rang out—still Phae didn’t move.

“Fuck! Fine! Felix, take the girls out of here!”

Felix cursed, and sprang to his feet, snatching the front of Silas’ shirt and yanking him forward, their lips crushing together in a quick, frantic kiss. “Hurry the fuck up.” He stated and ducked under the fence, grabbing both girls by the arm and dragging them along.

“Phae!” Tully shouted. “Phaedra!”

“Stop it!” Felix yanked her again, tugging them into the trees where Fiona finally collapsed and wept. “We have to keep moving.”

“We have to wait for them,” Tully snapped, arms sliding around Fiona, rocking gently with her. “I thought you had some grand plan. This was the most half-assed—”

“I did what I could with what I had!”

“And now Phae and Silas are fighting a ton of men with guns! They’re unarmed, Felix!” Tully cried out, holding Fiona a little tighter.

Felix leaned against a tree and scrubbed his face with his palms. Tully was worried for Phaedra, he knew that. He knew how she felt, though his sudden affection for Silas only irritated him a little, on top of making him sick to his stomach when he thought of what might be happening to him right now. Sliding down, he leaned back on the tree truck, and swallowed hard. “They’ll find us here.”

“They won’t. Just… be quiet and wait,” she whispered, stroking Fiona’s hair as the girl finally started settling down.

The gunshots were numbing, Tully only closed her eyes, praying that Phaedra would make it through, and would burst past the trees any moment. She didn’t mind running. She could keep running from those soldiers all night if it meant Phaedra would come through alright.

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The knot of soldiers rushing them was a little alarming, but Phaedra didn’t care. They had worked too hard and come too far trying to get Tully better, then make it through this mess. This hellish place wouldn’t survive. It wouldn’t be allowed to keep doing this to people. Good, innocent people, lumping the best with the worst, corralling decent citizens and labeling them, torturing them, treating them like defective livestock.

Glancing to Silas, Phae watched him draw a breath, and take on the first of the dozen or so that were charging them. Everything slowed down. Phae looked around, she could feel her lungs heaving, her heart pounding, the rush of the air around her—and before she knew it, she was in the thick of the fight, throwing men off of Silas, dodging rifles and bayonets, trying to keep behind the men around them to avoid the bullets flying from those that weren’t.

“Phaedra!”

Her eyes darted to Silas, who had yanked up the fence, a stolen rifle in his hand. With a stout nod, she bolted for the fence, bruised and bleeding, aching in places she had no idea had been hit. Rolling under the fence, she darted up the hill as her very new acquaintance dropped the woven metal.

A shot.

Phaedra spun, eyes wide as Silas toppled forward into the mud. The fence was being lifted…. She darted forward, and hoisted him up, his arm slipping over her shoulder as she dragged him up the hill.

“Felix!” She screamed. In seconds Felix, Tully, and Fiona burst through the trees, Felix helping with Silas as Fiona and Tully held back the branches to let them through. Bullets were flying. Silas was bleeding. The woods were just so far— when they burst through the trees, Phae glanced over… everything seemed still. Too still.

“Phae… Phae!” Tully cried out, holding her arm with blood leaking through her fingers, but her eyes were on Fiona, her expression twisted in horror.

No one had heard the shot… There was no scream… Fiona was slumped against a tree, a clean hole in her neck, her eyes were wide as she choked and sputtered. Tully fell to her knees beside her—

“We have to keep moving.” Phae said reluctantly, trying not to look at the girl they’d tried so hard to save.

“No…” Tully let out a sob as she watched the light leaving Fiona’s eyes. She couldn’t speak. Blood spattered over her lips and poured out of that angry little hole as she fought not to drown. Bullets were flying through the trees again—

Fiona took one more gasp, gurgled, and fell still.

“Tully!” Phae shouted, using her free hand to yank the blond up by her sleeve. Tully screamed and sobbed, fighting even as another bullet clipped just below where the first was lodged in her arm. Phae continued dragging her with Silas under one arm, Felix still trudging ahead with the other half of their wounded friend.

And Fiona stayed by the tree, bloody and broken, a sacrifice to Blackford Hill.

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LfBH – 10: Recruitment

Two minutes after midnight.  @_@  So close.  Also, if you’d like to catch up on the rest of LfBH, you can read parts 1 – 9.5 right here.

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Broken and filthy, Tully leaned heavily on the outer wall of the barracks. People milled about, walking in aimless circles, shells of the living, ghosts of who they might have been before Blackford Hill. For some, that was an improvement, of course; rapists, child molesters, the vicious and violent. Tully didn’t mourn those losses, but here it was sometimes hard to distinguish the innocent from the evil. Here, they were all savages on the edge of survival.

“No matter how long you stand there, you won’t get any further away.”

Tully snapped back to herself, the man now standing beside her was very suddenly a part of her reality. “Excuse me?”

“You stand here and watch them, hoping the longer you stare, the easier it will be to imagine yourself elsewhere. Maybe there’s some grass over there,” he gestured vaguely toward the mud pit. “Maybe a pub where the overseer’s office is.”

She stared at him, unblinking, the dark circles under her eyes giving her a pained, hollow look. “I’m Tully,” she spoke after several moments, her eyes returning to the wandering people.

“Felix.” He gave a weak snort of laughter, and adjusted his makeshift sling. “I’m a Count, you know. Could you believe that?”

“Not in here, you’re not,” she stated flatly, unfazed by the claim.

“No,” his eyes fell, and he nudged a pebble with his foot. “Not out there, either, I expect. Not anymore. What did you do to get in here?”

“Nothing. I shared an inn room with a woman.” She paused. “As it happens, I am in love with her, but at the time, we hadn’t done anything wrong.”

“She’s here too?”

“Yes, so if you’re thinking of doing anyth—.”

“No! No, it’s nothing like that. I’m here for the same reason.” Felix made a face, and glanced to Tully, swaying a bit on his feet. “If you don’t count the temple full of Satrean priests I burned alive, I suppose. They had it coming.”

Tully’s flat gaze turned to him, a mild question into his sanity behind her eyes. “You are quite the charmer, Count Felix.”

“I just… meant that I was in love with the wrong person. ‘Wrong’ according to them, anyway. The priests killed him. I punished them for murder and for Dacian’s memory. My father though he was being merciful, denying me a hanging and dumping me off here like one more dirty secret.”

“Are you a lonely man, Count?”

Felix’s gaze faltered a little, and he paused. “I suppose I am. Why?”

“I just can’t fathom why you’re telling me all of this.” Again, she turned to the muddy grounds of Blackford Hill, pulling her bottom lip into her mouth, biting idly.

Heaving a sigh, the former Count nodded and gave his good arm a small shrug. “You looked as lonely as I am, standing over here. Where’s your lady friend?”

The silence that rested between them was heavy, but Tully fought not to sag beneath the weight of her uncertainty. “She was taken to the overseer house ago.” She drew a quaking breath. “I haven’t seen her since, though… others… say she was dragged out… alive and cursing.” Her eyes clamped shut, and her arms folded across her chest, hugging herself tightly. “No one has seen her since then.”

Felix let his eyes look over the beaten down blond beside him, and he shook his head. The guards here didn’t appear to be treating the women with any special gentleness. She was covered in scuffs and bruises, and he could have sworn there was a faint redness around her neck… like a fabric burn. It was a crime, the things they did to people.

“My friend is missing too. He has been since this morning.” Felix confided quietly, having tried so desperately to keep from facing that he cared for Silas. The other man had been taken for treatment, and hadn’t returned; that always meant he’d come back needing at least a day in bed before he could even move. The bruises, the lashings, the scrapes—it killed Felix to see him like that. Silas was a crass man, but he was also warm and caring…. it was a combination one didn’t see in the upper class.

Taking a deep breath, Tully steadied herself, and glanced to him. “I hope they return him soon, then,” she noted, trying to be cordial, though she wasn’t exactly in the best state of mind for pleasantries.

Once again in a deep, awkward silence, Felix fidgeted a little, and turned with a start as he came face to face with a guard. The man was huge, but… most of them were, and he took a few steps back. “Excuse me.” he said.

“What’s going on here?” asked the guard, big bushy brows furrowed, his eyes centered on Felix.

“Nothing. We were talking.” Tully stated, and looked to Felix, and back to the guard. “Your sort aren’t exactly quality conversation, if you don’t mind me saying.”

The bull of a man brought the back of his hand across Tully’s mouth, and her head jerked to the side. In seconds, blood welled in the split, and trickled down her chin. Felix’s eyes were wide, and took her by the shoulders, looking at the cut.

“What the hell did you do that for?” he snapped at the guard, spinning around to face him, seething. “You can’t make it in the world? Can’t read or write? Can’t follow simple commands? So what? Get a job slapping around girls half your size? It’s lumbering morons like you that belong in here, not us!” He shouted, but instead of striking… the guard only laughed.

That was unsettling.

Tully stood behind Felix, shaking a bit, not giving her ground.

“You wait, boy. Tomorrow’s your day.” The guard said, laughing as he turned and walked away.

Tully stared after him a moment before touching Felix’s arm. “What did he mean by that? What’s tomorrow?”

“Another scheduled treatment. I’m willing to bet he plans on paying me back for this then….” He drew a breath. “We’re not waiting that long. We’re leaving tonight, and you’re coming with us.”

“What?” Tully’s jaw dropped and she tugged on Felix’s un-wrapped arm. “You don’t even know me. Why would you—.”

“Shh! We’re all victims here. Do you want in or not?”

Pausing, she drew a breath and gave a stout nod. “I’m taking Phae with me.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to come without her.” Felix patted Tully’s hand, and smiled. “Good. I’ll come back here at dusk. Be ready.” And with that, he walked away, leaving Tully, wide-eyed, staring after him.

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LfBH 9.4 – Trials: Silas

Incredibly late this week (it seems to be a trend, I know), but Monday’s will be on time.

I tried to give Silas’ narrative the air that he’s intelligent, he just speaks like a hick.  He’s not stupid, but he doesn’t articulate well verbally.  Mentally, he’s pretty freakin’ sharp.  Enjoy.

++++

You need to be alive to help me crush my father.”

Felix made it clear to me that he had no intention of giving in to the ‘treatment’ these jackasses were shoving down our throats. It was getting to me. I thought I could weather it, but day after day… beating after beating… they were going to break me, and I knew it wouldn’t take long.

Felix wasn’t a strong man. Ambitious, but not strong. For some reason, I felt like I had to protect him from them. How could I when they were getting to me?

Sliding along the office building wall, I trudged through the mud as silently as the schlucking of my bare feet in the sludge would let me. Thankfully, the cold water treatments the guards liked to give the girls was offering plenty of screams and hysterical crying. I don’t think I’ll ever getting over the guilt of being grateful for that. My stomach was in my throat, and my hands were shaking; out of fear or hunger? I didn’t know, but it didn’t seem to matter. My hand, shaking or not, was sliding up to the window as I raised one foot to hoist myself up on the ledge. Quaking, I peered through the window, heart racing–

Empty. Just like Felix said it would be.

Heaving a sigh, I shoved up the window, and pulled myself over the ledge. Funny how we got bare wooden pallets with thin straw mattresses to sleep on, lucky for a blanket that was more blanket than holes… Just in this bastard’s office, he had cushy chairs, gold plated fountain pens, furs… Furs! We’re freezing to death, half of our barracks had pneumonia that no one bothered to treat, and this son of a bitch had furs and a whole stack of fire wood!

Shoving my anger down to smolder, I set to the task that Felix gave me. He said “Look for maps of the camp. Maps with marks.” Hell if I can read… I started rummaging as quickly as I could, my feet leaving mud-smears on the carpet.

He had carpet! Augh.

Yanking down one of the curtains, I started throwing papers, and rolled up things that looked like maps, and a bottle of wine from the whole gods be damned rack that the overseer had onto the curtain. Gathering up the corners, I dragged it the window and hopped out, yanking it down with me.

The girls were still screaming… I hated that I was relieved. They didn’t deserve that. Drawing a steadying breath, I trudged along, trying to move quickly, but without being noticed–

“You, there!”

I froze and my knees went weak. Venturing a glance over my shoulder, my heart thundering in my ears, I almost dropped the makeshift sack. I saw a girl running, pale and naked, crying…. in the opposite direction. They were chasing her.

“Fuck.” I drew a breath and hurried through the mud, only to burst into my barracks and toss the curtain to the floor.

Felix bounded to his feet and– hugged me. Blinking in surprise, I hugged him back. “I think I got them.”

“You’re alright?”

“More or less.” I laughed. It wasn’t funny, but after all that stress, I felt like I deserved it.

Felix nodded, and we awkwardly stood there… averting our eyes, shifting… and, finally, Felix dove into the curtain, tugging out the mess that I’d thrown in there. It was his turn to laugh when he pulled out the bottle.

“Wine?”

I grinned. “I did a damn good job, and I wanted to celebrate.”

“You’re going to get us caught.” I was lucky that he was still laughing as he thrust the bottle at me, only to return to the rolls of paper. When he opened them up, he smiled and nodded. “Perfect. What’s the rest of this?”

“I dunno. They had seals on ‘em. I though they looked important.”

“Great. Great job, Silas, honestly. Burn the fabric. Hide the bottle… Well, when we’re done with it.” He rose and I stared at him as he grabbed the tin cups from the crate under the leak in the roof. He emptied the murky water onto the floor, and held them out to me. “I think this calls for a toast.”

Damn right it did. I dug the cork out with a bit of broken metal we’d been using for a knife, and poured us each a cup of the fragrant red liquid.

“You’re supposed to let it breathe,” he scolded.

“If I’m not allowed time to breathe, then I think the wine will get over it.”

We shared a grin, and Felix raised his cup, and I tapped the rim of mine to his. “To not dying here.”

“Morbid,” I muttered, “but I’ll take it.”

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LfBH 9.2 – Trials: Felix

I deserved it. Everything they did. I wanted it; the beatings, the water torture, the shackles…. It reminded me of Dacian. Every time they came to take me, I could hear Silas fighting, our bunk-mates struggling to keep him back. Each time was worse than the last, yet I remembered less and less. Silas nursed my wounds, though I could never fathom why. All my life, I lacked in true friends… it was ironic that I would find one here. He fought hard for me, and every time they came, I let them have me.

“Dacian is dead, Felix,” muttered Silas one evening as he set my broken forearm with a heart-stopping crack.

A howl burst from my throat, thunking my forehead against the table with a sob.

“G-Go to hell….”

“Not saying it won’t make it less true.” His words mirrored the ache in my arm, though he was oddly tender as he wrapped and splinted my swollen limb. “I understand that you loved him—”

Love him, Silas. Just because he’s dead doesn’t mean my love died with him.”

“Fine. But it’s beside the fucking point.” His eyes burned, even as I worked not to look at him. I knew he was locked on me. “Dying here won’t bring him back.”

I knew that. But wasn’t it my greed for a formal marriage that got him killed? At least before I sought that formality we had each other.

“We deserved it.” I tried to clear the hoarseness from my throat, but the screaming had all but done it in. As it cracked around those words, I wondered if it really was hoarse, or if it was tears. My face had been beaten numb, so it really could have been either.

“Fuck off! You didn’t deserve any of this shit!” Silas snapped, snatching our tin rain-collecting cup and hurling it against the wall.

I cringed.

“I meant a wedding, jackass… We deserved a wedding,” I muttered after the shock of his outburst wore off. Rubbing my eyes with my good hand, I slumped back on the bed and cradled my arm.

“Oh.” Silas blinked owlishly at me, settling back on his crate. “Well. Right. Yes. You did deserve that. S’what I was telling you before. But really, though, Felix… Fight back a little.”

“No.”

“You fight when they come for me.

“You’re different.”

“Bullshit.” He plopped on the bed and laid beside me, both of us sideways, our legs hanging over the edge. “Your face is bleeding a little.”

“It always seems to be lately.” Glancing over, I watched him. Silas, an uncultured orphan from the streets of my father’s city. My only friend in the world now.

“They’ll be back tomorrow. Promise me you won’t just let them do whatever they want to you….”

I wanted to curse at him and go to sleep like I always did. Who was he to be making demands of me? It wasn’t that long ago that my fate had been the gallows, and I welcomed it. I could see no reason my life should be spared in favor of this hell.

“Believe it or not, you stupid bastard, people actually give a shit what happens to you.”

People? Or you?”

He rolled his eyes and rolled himself to his feet, crossing the room without a word. Effective means of dodging the question. Silas had as many bruises and bandages as I did, it was baffling how he could move so easily.

“Fine, you win. I’ll fight while they’re beating me next time. Because we all know how far protesting gets you.” I tossed a bread crust from the table at him, bouncing it off the top of his head.

Unfazed, he turned toward me, eyes dark and hollow, more somber than I’d ever seen him. “Just do me this and pretend, for once, that you want to be alive….”

My mouth dropped open, I could feel it as I stared dumbly at him. I could only nod. In the short few weeks I’d been here, Silas had tended my wounds, coaxed me to laugh, and stayed beside me in the dark. Selfish, spoiled man that I am, I felt all this time that he was doing it for me. In that moment, I felt stupid and cruel. I wasn’t the only one in the dark.

“I do want to live.” Using my good arm, I shoved myself up, every bruise and muscle screaming in agony. “I let the helplessness control me. I’m sorry.” I still don’t know if I actually was sorry. I just knew that Silas needed to hear it. Taking his hand, I gave it a weak squeeze.

“I don’t want to die here, Felix…” He let his head drop back against the window, rattling the pane.

“You won’t. We won’t. You’re as stubborn as a gods be damned goat, Silas. You’ll live through this whether you want to or not.” Nudging him with my elbow, I was pleased to earn a small smile.

“That so?” He lifted his head and gave a laugh, tears running down his cheeks.

“That is so. You need to be alive to help me crush my father and take his estate.” Those words left me and I hadn’t the faintest idea where they came from.

“What?” Silas stared, and I grinned at his surprise.

“You’ll help me, won’t you? We’ll split the profit.” The idea hadn’t even come to me until just then, after it left my lips. But it was brilliant.

“You’re going to get yourself killed.” He glared, but only for a moment. My grin must have been infectious, because in seconds, I watched the same one grow on Silas’ face.

“Well?” I asked, squeezing his hand one more time.

Glancing down to our clasped hands, his eyes flickered once again to mine.

“I’m in.”

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LfBH – 7: The Cure

I know it’s been awhile.  I wanted to write something a little less unpleasant with this piece.  I like Felix and he deserved a break.  So, not as action-packed, probably boring, but Felix needed this moment.  He was making me sad.  Enjoy.

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Silas drew a breath, deep and soothing, the scent of the fire flooding his lungs. The fact he’d even managed to purloin some wood was a miracle in itself. Rain pelted the tin roof, the sound an odd cross between a ring and a roar, making sleep no more than wishful thinking, and warmth even further from attainability. The fire was absolutely a blessing. Silas pitied those in the barracks without it. It would be a long, cold night.

A sharp cough broke the trance the flames had lulled him into, and he pushed the brazier lightly with a cloth-clad foot. The fresh meat they brought in on that wagon was in the bed beside Silas, on his side and looking more like an eggplant than a person. It didn’t stop him from stirring, though. How he could even move was beyond Silas. That man was beaten to a pulp before he was dumped just inside the door, left unattended in a heap. No one bothered with a name, or to take care of him. What did they care if he died? Silas tugged him onto his bed, and tried to keep him warm and stanch the bleeding from medley of head wounds. Whether he would live still remained to be seen, but it looked grim.

Silas’ patient’s arms flew up suddenly, blocking invisible blows in the stillness of the cabin. The other occupants stared at him for a moment, but all went back to what they were doing without another glance. Silas settled on the bed beside him, and grabbed his wrists lightly, trying to still him.

“Hey! Hey, it’s alright! It’s alright…” he pressed, letting him go gently, and grabbing the rag from the basin of rainwater he’d been collecting and started gently mopping up any new blood that made have dried on his face. “Just hold still, you’re real banged up.”

“The hell am I?” he asked hoarsely, trying to focus his right eye on him, the only one that wasn’t swelled completely shut.

“Blackford Hill,” answered Silas, setting the rag aside, and using the cover of the blanket to dry his face as gently as he could. “What’s your name?”

“Oh. That… right… I remember.” He sighed, and tried to sit up, but only grimaced as he gave in and lay back.

“Broke a few ribs. You didn’t answer me though.”

Felix looked at him sidelong, wondering how he wound up in this person’s care. “Felix. Count… Felix Malrais.”

Silas lofted a brow. “I guess money can’t buy you out of this hellhole anymore.” He sighed, and glanced around at the six others sharing a tiny room with three beds. “Looks like you outrank us.” He joked.

“Ha ha.” Felix muttered dryly. “Lot of good that’s doing me, isn’t it?” He pushed himself up, this time fighting the agony in his ribs, and leaned back against the wall. “What sort of detention camp is this?”

Silas scooted back on the wall, laying perpendicular on the bed. “Bunters, pedophiles, mandrakes, rapists… even adulterers. Can’t get away with nothing these days.”

Mandrakes?”

“Yeah. You lie with your own ilk, you’re like to get tossed in here, anyone finds out about it. Got the girls, too. More men than women, though.”

“Fuck.” Felix knocked his already aching head back against the wall and closed his eyes with a hiss of pain.

“That’s you, then, huh? Me, too. That one there,” he pointed across the room at a dark, bearded fellow. “Got a ten year old wife. That one? Fucking his half-sister. And that one there had a roll in the hay with his father’s goat.”

“Fuck off, Silas,” was the weak response he got from the man who had lain with his sister. The rest seemed to ignore him. Silas had a loud mouth, and they were all growing tired of reacting to it.

“Can you believe it? We fuck a few men here and there, and we get lumped in with that lot. Piss poor situation, yeah?” Silas shook his head and glanced to Felix, feeling genuinely bad for him. The only ones who ever got beat up so bad were the ones who rebelled or the ones who panicked. Silas would put money on Felix being the latter. “Anyway, they bring you here to cure you of your ‘maladies’.”

Felix shook his head. “Fantastic, but I’m not sick.” He snapped.

“Me, neither. But you just gotta let them do their thing. Try to be good. I never seen them let anyone out, but it’s the only hope we got.”

“So, we pretend to be ‘getting better’ so they can keep us here and make us miserable? I don’t think so.” Felix touched his face, and grimaced. He must have looked like an elephant went through a meat grinder.

“Stop poking at it.” Silas smacked his hand, and Felix attempted a glare, but the swelling wouldn’t let his face do much of anything.

“I murdered a temple full of priests and burnt it to the ground. I shouldn’t even be here,” he noted and closed his eyes. “I’d rather face the noose.”

Silas’ jaw dropped. “What the fuck? Why would you do that?”

“They murdered someone important to me. For a stupid reason…. I wanted to marry him and I went to the priests to request it be allowed. They said no. Didn’t shout or act angry….. Next thing I know, my servants village is being raided and they drag Dacien out, injuring many of my servants in the process. We found him in the pond behind the temple.” He shook his head, his voice suddenly very solemn. “I suppose I just snapped.”

Silence filled the room, and Silas just stared, stunned. “Unbelievable. They deserved it. Fuck them, you were completely justified.”

Felix cracked a weak smile. “Thank you. Doesn’t bring Dacien back, though.”

“No… I guess it doesn’t.”

“Thank you…” Felix muttered.

“What for?”

“It was you, wasn’t it? Who put me here? Made sure I didn’t drown in my own blood? I know it was you, because we’ve been talking for at least twenty minutes now, and not one of those men have bothered to interject. They don’t seem the type to rise against authority.”

“I do?” Silas laughed.

“You do.”

“Well. You’re welcome. Now I’m going to sleep. Don’t die tonight. I don’t know if I want to wake up in the same bed as a corpse.” He jostled himself into a horizontal position at the other end of the bed, his feet up by Felix’s head.

“You’re fucking charming, you know that.” Felix slid back down and ducked under the blanket, miserable, but at least there wasn’t a gun in his face.


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LfBH: Detention

I know I’m super late, but here it is! <3  Part 6.   I apologize for the quality.

~+~+~+~


“What the hell do you mean?” snapped Felix, dark eyes narrowed at the guard who blocked the early-dawn light streaming through his doorway. Somehow, that made the light even more difficult to bear.

“Your father went to great lengths, Count Malrais. He aims to ensure your safety, and this was the best way he knew to–”

“To what?” Felix flew up from the pallet that served as his prison bed, and began dressing, unabashedly naked in front of the guard. “To spare himself the humiliation? Where does he plan to send me, exactly? We both know he won’t be accepting me back into the family household.”

The guard shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t have the details of your new location–”

The young count snorted in mock amusement, arms folding over his chest as he glared at the guard. “Get out. I’ll be out when I’ve eaten breakfast.”

“You’ll eat in the wagon,” stated the guard, his patience for Felix’s spoiled attitude wearing thin. “I’ll bind you if I have to, Count Malrais. You’re on our time, now.”

Felix shoved his feet into his boots, his face furiously red as he fought the urge to speak. This was growing tiresome. “I’d rather face the gallows.” He muttered, grunting in shock as he was seized by the back of his collar and yanked to his feet, all but flailing like a child against the sudden tug. Set down again, the guard shoved him, palm to his back, toward the door.

“Out.”

“Fine,” he snapped, and trudged in a miniature tantrum out the door. Sure enough, there was a wagon waiting, the back doors open only feet from the door. “There… there are bars on this wagon.”

“Yes.”

Felix’s stomach sank, and, hesitating, he hoisted himself into the back. A wagon with bars; his father sent a message that he was to be spared death, but in favor of what?

The gallows didn’t seem like such a terrible idea all of a sudden.

~+~+~+~

Three days in the back of that wagon, thrown scraps of whatever the guards were eating, Felix was beginning to wonder if his father’s compassion wasn’t actually a ploy to make an example of him. Maybe drag him out to the highway and have him strung up to be pecked at by the birds and boiled in the sun. Lying on that floor, unbound, but still a prisoner, the gallows were a welcoming thought, almost warming.

All at once, the wagon lurched to a stop and the double doors were thrown open, sunlight streaming in as Felix all but curled in on himself, shielding his eyes from the light.

“Out,” snapped the guard standing at the mouth of the wagon, tapping Felix’s cheek with the muzzle of his rifle to drive the point home.

Shoving himself to his feet, the Count groaned as every muscle in his body gave protest. As his eyes adjusted, they settled on the gun, and he heaved a sigh. Outstanding, he thought, stretching as he fought to gain feeling back in his legs.

“I’m not certain that’s necessary,” he muttered, eying the weapon irritably.

“We’re doing your father a favor, Count Malrais,” the guard all but barked. “If you get out of hand, it is within our power to gun you down.”

Felix stiffened, and his gaze faltered, dropping momentarily. “Of course it is….” He grimaced, and stepped out of the wagon, taken by the arms as he hopped to the ground. “Now, what is this ‘favor’ you’re doing my father? Sparing my life? Yes, that’s wonderful. Take me away from the gallows, throw me into a wagon, and dump me in a fenced off mud pit.” He motioned to the vast expanse of land before him as the gates, wound in knots of barbed wire, were pulled open to accept them inside.

“Welcome to Blackford Hill.” The guard lifted his gun, and struck Felix in the center of the back, giving his backside a kick at the same time. Gasping, Felix grunted and stumbled forward, heading through the gates, looking around as the panic rose inside him. That hollow, nervous feeling only grew as his steps became a trudge, the realization slowly welling in him.

“A detention camp…” he whispered, a cold pit forming in his stomach.

“Walk!” That gun struck him once again, and he toppled onto his hands and knees, mud splattering as he hit the ground.

This is my father’s idea of sparing me?” He snapped, pulling himself from the sludge and shaking his arms off. “Has he lost his mind?” He laughed in shock, hands lifting, pressing to his temples as he fought back the hysteria building in him.

The guard once again marched forward, lifting his gun. “I said–”

WALK! YES, I HEARD YOU!” Felix shouted at him, and the rifle caught him across the face. He didn’t recall falling, but as the explosion of stars behind his eyes cleared a moment later, he was staring up at the sky. Turning onto his side, he pushed himself into a sitting position, looking out over the rows of wooden huts, dozens of people, men and women, all peeking out at the ruckus. All dressed in rags. Filthy. Starving. Some bandaged or splinted. He tried to push himself to his feet, looking stunned.

“Now. Walk.” The guard muttered, a bit more calmly this time.
Felix did as he was told, his eye flowering into a bruise, blood leaking from the corner of his lips. Why hadn’t his father just let him be executed? Anything was better than a detention camp. Death was better than a detention camp. Turning around, Felix looked at the guard with the gun, and the other two that had been following along came around the sides of him.

“Why this place?” he asked, trying to look around while his head was still spinning.

“Strip.”

Felix grunted incredulously, and glared at the guard.

“Undress him,” snapped the guard and the other two closed in on the Count, even as he tried to back away. They seized his arms, and managed to strip him bare in seconds, discarding the rags they made of his clothing a moment later.

Shielding himself, Felix ducked his head as two boys approached with buckets of water, and before he could react, he gasped as the frigid water was splashed on him, washing the mud away. Thrown a threadbare towel, he cringed and dried himself, shaking violently as his body tried to adjust to the cold. Brought up onto a deck, he was given clothes, and forced to dress in the same drab rags everyone else seemed to be wearing. Humiliated and freezing, he turned to the guards, refusing to be beaten down… he lifted his chin.

“I’m writing a letter to my father. He can’t possibly have approved of this,” he snapped, but even the tone of his voice was a bit more subdued. The butt of that rifle hurt like hell.

“Your father demanded we bring you here!” The guard snapped, and gave him a shove. “Enough insolence. You belong to us now.”

Felix glared harder. “And if I refuse to take your asinine orders?”

He knew the answer to that. Sure enough, that rifle came down across his face, and as the stars exploded behind his eyes once again, Felix found himself wishing it had been a bullet.

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