Shadow in the Snow

The Whipping Boy

     The cane fell on the boy's back again and again and again. Crow never knew that time could drag on for so long but he made no sound; instead, he stared fixedly at the ground and tried not to wince every time he was hit. He was not successful.

    No one had even told him what this was about. One moment he had been drawing water with the help of a girl around his age, just about seven or eight, and the next he had been dragged off without a word into the main tent where he had seen Snow standing there, frightened. He had pieced it together after they started beating him. Snow must have done something, though Crow couldn't imagine what, and he was getting the punishment for it since he was the expendable brother, whereas Snow was valuable. It was unfair. But it wasn't the unfair beating him that bothered him as much as the fact that he knew this was hurting Snow more than it would have to be beaten himself, though Crow would have volunteered for it even if it hadn't been forced on him.

    These thoughts were too mature for an eight-year-old but he had had to grow up fast in such a place as this. Sometimes he would dream of a time that had been kinder but those memories were fading with time -- if they even were memories and not just pleasant dreams. He tried to think of those memories now to distract him from the pain but it only made the pain stronger.

    At last, the cane stopped. Crow barely had a chance to lock eyes with his frightened little brother before being thrown out of the tent, left to hobble back to his quarters on his own. He stumbled to his feet from where he was thrown and made it only a few steps before he fell again, but again, stubbornly, he rose. And this time he didn't walk further as raised voices could be heard from the tent behind him.

    The Master shouting. At Snowflake, no doubt. Anger surging inside of his little body, Crow turned to go back into the tent to defend his brother when a small hand grabbed his and pulled him back.

    "Where do you think you're going?' demanded a little voice and he turned, wincing at the movement. It was the same girl that had been helping him draw water. She was thin and ragged but her eyes were full of fire.

    He frowned at her. "I have to help my brother."

    "You'll get beaten again, you know. You can barely walk as it is."

    "Doesn't matter, I have to help him."

    She tugged at his hand. "Listen! The shouting has stopped. Your brother will be all right. Lemme help you to bed."

    Crow didn't answer but instead reluctantly allowed her to pull him towards the tent he shared with the other staff children. It was usually empty during the day and so it was empty now when they went in and she helped him to his bedroll.

    "I don't recognize you." Crow broke the silence, trying to make his voice gruff to hide the pain.

    "I'm new. My name is La."

    He grunted. "That's a stupid name."

    "Well then! What's yours?" She put her hands on her hips and stared at him severely.

    "I'm Crow."

    "Ha, and you say my name is stupid! Crow isn't even a real name."

    Crow didn't answer right away, concentrating on lying down on his stomach so he wouldn't hurt his back more. He almost regretted saying her name was stupid since La didn't offer him any help now. "How do you know it isn't a real name?" His face was buried in his thin pillow so it really sounded more like, "Howshdoyoushknowishin'tahwealshname?".

    She stuck her tongue out at him, though he couldn't see it. "Because it isn't, that's why. I have to go to work now but I'll bring you something later if I think about it. I might just forget you and your stupid name, though. Goodbye!"

    Before he had a chance to say anything else, she had run off and he listened to the sound of her feet until he could no longer hear them. Soon after, he drifted off into a fitful sleep where he was plagued by nightmares of the Master beating Snowflake while he hung from a cage, unable to speak or move or do anything but watch.