SHORT STORY - Lena and the Band of Assassins - Part 06

“You have returned.” The curly redheaded bastard was sitting on her mother’s chair in the parlor.

“It’s done.” Lena coughed. In truth she wondered how she was still able to speak, let alone stand. The pain in her sides was getting worse with every breath she took. Did she survive this long only to die here from exhaustion?

The man stood up. “In my homeland, a child cannot rule. One of the ways a child reaches adulthood is by performing a ritual – the Nilli’o – it means rebirth. When a child buries their parent with their own hands: it marks that child as an adult. By our laws, you are now ruler of this island and its people.”

He looked down where Lena was still holding her aching side. When she did not say anything, he continued. “Your ribs are probably bruised from that kick I gave you. Here,“ he moved to a nearby drawer and took a small vile filled with some white liquid. “Rub this ointment where it hurts. Go upstairs and rest. Your room hasn’t been touched – yet.”

Lena carefully took the vile, her eyes not moving from the fiend.

“Food?” Lena asked timidly. In order for her to do anything she needed to look as harmless as possible. This of course would not require much effort on her part.

“There is some upstairs waiting for you. You are not to leave that room once you’ve entered it. Or there will be consequences. You understand, princess?”

Lena nodded slowly. And the man turned his back to her and exited the parlor through the main entrance area. Good. Think me feeble. It will be all the sweater when you suffer my wrath.

Empty words, she knew. But she couldn’t stop the tempest raging inside of her. These thoughts, these feelings – she had never experienced anything like them before. She had talked to almost every person on the island, and hadn’t heard of them before. Neither her mother nor aunt ever talked about them. Lena thought that rage was the only thing keeping her conscious at the moment. She would not forfeit these new emotions; regardless of how alien they felt.

Once she was inside her room, she slumped on the ground, back against the door. The lighter skinned foreign scum told the truth about her room at least: it seemed like it had not been touched. Her eyes started to close on their own, but she shook the daze away. Not yet. I can’t rest just yet.

Lena’s thoughts came slowly to her. Why didn’t they kill her? Why make her suffer imprisonment only to then release her? Why give her room back? She couldn’t think of the answers. She could only focus on her task at hand. There would be time to ponder about the last couple of days later.

Lena grabbed for the vile the foreign killer gave her, and spread it all across the area where it hurt when she breathed. The supposed ointment was ice cold. So cold in fact, that it brought some clarity back to Lena’s mind. If only a little.

She got up and went to her bed, prodding the wooden floor until she heard a squeak. She removed a board revealing a square hole. This was her house; she knew everything about her house. Her mother let Lena listen in on all her meetings, even the ones she was not allowed present. This hole ensured just that.

Lena dropped the floorboard on the ground and went to sit on a nearby table where a plate of food was laid out for her. The food was cold and plain, but at least it was not a leftover, cooked beans and a slice of ham. As she ate she started to hear sounds coming from the hole. Once she heard voices, she got up and plastered herself on the floor, ear above the square opening.

“she’s harmless anyway.” she heard a gruff voice, the brute?

“They all are.” Lena was pretty certain that was the red haired killer’s voice, “this whole island is filled with cowards. I am still surprised that pampered brat didn’t die in that storage room. Or burry herself along with her precious mama.” He said the last word in a higher peached mocking tone, which got a laugh out of the others in the room.

“When will Tillor return?” the brute said.

“Two days.” A third voice said, it was a new one. But it wasn’t her scarred captor. It had to be the quiet lean murderer. “He said he wanted to rape the freckled bitch when he returns.”

“Stupid whore would probably enjoy that too much.” The brute said. “No. These people disgust me. Let us take our conquest and be done with it.”

“Agreed. The fall solstice is in three days - she is ruler of this island now - we need to get her to sign the writ by then.”
“Curse Armillo’s Codes.” The brute said incredulously. “We should’ve been done with this.”

“Mind your tongue,” the red haired one said. “Or you will wake up without it. Armillo’s Codes are fair and just, and we must follow them. You know this.”

A grunt.

“…”

Lena suddenly snapped her eyes open; she had almost fallen asleep. This is dangerous. If they catch me here, I am most certainly dead.

She placed the board back where it belonged, silencing the loud voices. She hadn’t finished her food, but right now her only fixation was her bed. Lena climbed it, feeling a level of exhaustion she deemed impossible. She passed out almost instantly. But not before she repeated the most important thing she just heard.

Three days.