The Way We Fall

Chapter 1 - Roche

The chains don't hurt as much as Roche thought they would. She sits quietly in a bed of hay, tucked into a silent corner of the cattle cart. Around her, livestock brays and cries out in the roomy wagon.

"Everything alright back there, miss?" the driver calls back to Roche, barely audible over the clopping of horse hooves. Roche makes a small sound to confirm her existence, pretending she'd just awoken. The driver was rather chatty. She'd found out quickly on her one week cattle cart ride that it was best to feign unconsciousness to avoid his endless stream of conversation.

The driver clucks his tongue sympathetically. "Foul things, those chains. If it were up to me, I'd rid you of them. But the King's orders are orders." Clearly Roche's act hadn't paid off. Her chains jangled as she sat up in the rocking cart.

"It's alright, sir." she replies politely into the ensuing silence, "They're comfortable."

The driver snorts. "Sure. About as comfortable as a thorn bush. But don't you worry, we'll have you out of those once we've crossed the border and the royal guards have checked you for inkblood. We're a few moments away from them."

Roche swallows hard. "Are the tests... invasive?" She held her breath in anticipation.

The driver bellows with laughter. "Oh no! It's quite simple, really. Just a quick frisk of the arms to see if you've got any ancient marks carved into your skin." He makes a sound of disgust, "Those inkbloods really give me the creeps. Who would cut away at their own skin for such cruelty to slip within you?"

Roche can hear the shudder in his voice and remains silent. She bites her tongue, frowning at a patch of manure smeared across the hem of her trousers. The stain won't leave. Words rise in her mind in silent support. Roche pushes them away. Drawing on inkblood now, in these lands, would be a death sentence.

Outside, the clopping of hooves draws to a stop.

"Halt!" Roche's heart rises in her throat at the coarse grate of the man's shout, "Declare your business, if you please!"

"Livestock delivery. And a girl who is travelling to the city. Says she has business there." the driver answers, his voice suddenly quite small. Roche sucks in a small breath for courage as the vast wooden doors to the cattle cart burst open. The harsh light stings against her eyes, so she can't quite see the expression on the guard's face as he gags at the overwhelming scent of manure.

"You've been keeping a girl back here?" the guard exclaims furiously. The anger in his voice presses against Roche like the flat of a blade. She nervously fidgets with the hem of her simple shirt. Her vision focuses, and she sees the guard through teary eyes. His skin is pale, as if he barely spent time in the sun. A regal, grey cape wraps around his well-fitted chainmail, tucked with a medallion beneath his neck that is covered in shaven brown hair. His sharp green eyes are flat with disapproval and sympathy.

"Come here, girl. Do not fear." he tells her kindly. Roche's legs shake as she stands for the first time in hours. The guard grimaces at the sight of her appearance as she comes near. Roche imagines it is not pleasant, after days of riding in that insufferable cart. Just before she can step out into the fresh woodland air, the chains yanks her back. A sharp twinge of pain shoots through Roche's arms as she faceplants into a pile of manure.

"Good gods," the guard mutters. Roche doesn't dare open her mouth. She hears the light footsteps of the driver approach.

"The cart was clean when we set off!" the driver insists. Roche scowls into the manure. That had been days ago.

"Animals shit, don't they? You shouldn't leave a lady with them for more than a day! Did you even give her anything but hay to sleep on?" the guard counters. His arms loop around Roche's pulling her up. She squirms as his gloved hands gently tug up the sleeves of her shirt, revealing unmarred golden brown skin. His touch is gentle, but it still makes Roche's skin crawl. "I don't see anything on your arms. Who are you here to visit?"