Daughters of the Land

XV.| Betrothed

The day had reached its time to set and bring with it the shadows of the night. The cell seemed more safer at this time and Nukula had started to grow comfortable of her space. She could think of far worse situations that escaped her fate and she was somewhat thankful for that.

The men had spoke to her for some time, before Baron Castoron escorted her back to her rightful habitat. She lay lifelessly along the grubby floor, staring up at the darkness, her mind creating visions she hoped to come true. She needed to collect her thoughts. Time to envision all that was said and act accordingly, so her life could be spared, once more.

The girl pondered about her home, her father and mother. At times like these, she wished she hadn't been the only child. If only she had siblings; a sister of like courage and hunger to do for her parents what any lad from her village was praised for. A brother, someone to keep her safe and fight in her fathers name, so her mother needn't go to serve in the first place. Siblings who could be her saviour in horrid times like these. She had no one but herself and though she had become thick-skinned in all her nineteen years of lonesome, it didn't stop her yearning for affection from those of the same blood.

******

"C'mon we haven't all day, up you get!". A guard starred through the bars, waking her from a deep sleep, much of which she struggled with the entire night. "Today's the day girl!", he smacked his hands together and gestured for her stance.

"What?", she had barely sharpened her vision nor managed to comprehend his words, yet he had already unlocked the steel. "I don't understand-".

The man yanked her out by her sweat-riddled arm and began escorting her through the tunnel. He eyed her momentarily and grinned, "Oh don't you worry love, this'll be full of excitement you won't need breakfast", he laughed to himself.

Nukula, still unsure of the situation remained silent and followed his directions with ease. Once they had entered the daylight, she was met with a pavilion similar to the one she saw on her first night, standing high across the fields. She brushed off the tiredness and prepared for the inevitable abuse to come.

"Hang abouttt!", came a call. "You can't be serious brother?". They had merely set foot into the tent, and yet could already feel the tension that had been well and brewing. Familiar faces were seated ahead along with those she never knew; when espied, they critically gazed at her.

Plois bestowed her with his weasel smile, though a trace of angst remained apparent on his grubby face. He sniffled as she got closer and she wondered whether he was as ruthless as he presented to be. He seemed fairly normal enough- perhaps just another landsman protecting his men and women from the outsiders.

"Ee reek of shit Zicoto!". Perhaps not, she finalised in thought.

Plois seemed to have forgotten that Nukula hadn't the time nor luxury to bathe whilst imprisoned. Only two bowls; one to empty her bladder and bowel the other filled with a few jugs of water to wash away the day and night. Having been raised savvy, Nukula failed to waste any water though extra care was taken because she'd been warned that water supply would be limited to the end of every week. And so it had become apparent- even to her, that the guards escorting her weren't the only ones carrying the pungent faecal odour that lingered after every stride and turn.

Both Baron Pann and Castoron lingered too, like the stink amongst the men, refusing eye contact with her as if it were offensive. Pann's ageing eyes held many worries, though it had just began addressing one with an exhausted stare- his little brother Plois.