Maji Born

13 - The Rebel Cause

The streets of Gradisa were in complete chaos. Maji were being rounded up by the dozen and as there were so many, the King had ordered that the prison within the city barracks become a small, holding area. Once the cells were full they would all be executed. It made Carsire sick. 

Just this morning two children and an old woman had been escorted into the barrack. He was growing weary of his task, but kept at it, determined to keep an ear to the ground for news of Lavinia.

Carsire had hopes and suspicions that she was headed to Zedar to meet the Belestine girl. He didn't voice this opinion out loud as he did not wish to die with the maji.

Now Carsire sat on watched beside the overfull cells, listening to the sobs of the children in the far corner and the soft disjointed snoring of several of the older prisoners. He had been sitting at the small metal table, trying to keep awake till his relief arrived. There was a loud sniff and then one of the children stopped crying. It was the chilling silence of despair that prompted him to act. He stood, riffling on his key ring for the cell keys.

Over the past few days, rumours of an underground movement had been whispered about among the prisoners, they had spoken of it only when they thought that he was far enough away or sleeping soundly. He had, however, caught sections of conversation. There was a group of maji, hiding somewhere in the city, helping to smuggle out refugees. He had no idea where they were but he would not kill children. Carsire was on watch until midnight so there would be no one in the compound for at least two more hours.

Carsire stepped up to the bars and gestured at the two children, "Come here." He ordered, he would not let the others know what was happening.

They were in a cell with only two of the elder maji, both blind. There was a murmur of confused conversation from the other cells as the two children approached Carsire reluctantly, looking terrified.

"No. Don't take them," a woman begged, reaching an arm through the bars of her cell for the girl's shoulder. Carsire drew both children away. "Keep your arms in," he growled.

Then he turned, ignoring the continued protests. There was more sobbing and yelling. He took the children through the back exit. They were shaking and the boy was crying silently.

Once the door was closed he led them to the street, carefully glancing around to make sure that there was no military presence in the streets. He let go of their shoulders and said hoarsely, "go on. Get somewhere safe. Don't tell anyone that I let you go."

They looked up at him with a mixture of confusion and shock.

"Go now. Before I get caught letting you go," he growled.

They glanced at each other and then back at him, then they bolted down the street in the direction of the south side. Carsire watched them go and then turned, returning to his post. The prisoners demanded to know where the children had been taken, he ignored them and returned to sharpening his knife with his back to them.

He was relieved at midnight by a stocky young man, a recent recruit. He took his post and Carsire updated him, telling him that all the prisoners were accounted for and to just make sure they didn't get up to anything troublesome, then Carsire grabbed his cloak and left for the barrack.

He lay down on his hard bunk and felt his back flared with irritation. The mattress was lumpy and definitely had bugs. He wasn't used to the way the lower city lived and he was considering investing a small house. Years of working at the palace had earned him quite a substantial payout and he could comfortably afford a small house in the center of town. He resolved to look into it in the morning.