For a Better World by Ellynn  

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Chapter 8

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He blinked, then frowned. Uh, he badly needed to piss. He rubbed the sleep from his crusty eyes and looked around. A little light came from the single tiny window; dawn, at last. So, he survived the night. But, could he expect anything good from this new day? Hunger had turned to pain; his stomach hurt so badly. And his mouth was bone dry, there wasn’t a trace of spit left. If only he could have a sip of water...

He sat there, glancing about. Hopefully someone would come soon, to let him out; he was stiff from lying so long in the cramped space. Then he froze. What if they don’t let him out at all? What if they forgot him?

Well, in that case he’d hammer on the door. Yell. Call. Maybe he’d get himself out.

Somehow he managed to edge through the tools to the farthest corner and pissed there. Ah, that was so good; one problem solved. But the other was now worse. The thirst had grown even stronger. His mouth, tongue, palate and throat were parched, and his stomach howled.

He went back to the spot where he’d been sleeping and was just stepping towards the door when its hinges creaked. In the grey rectangle appeared the silhouette he had remembered from yesterday. That overseer with legs so crooked they almost formed a circle.

“Still alive, are ya? Good. Work’s waiting. But we’ll see if you’re still alive by tomorrow night, haha!” Then he turned and shouted over his shoulder, “Come on, you scum, grab them tools!”

The overseer disappeared from his sight, and humans began filing into the shed to collect what they needed for work. First came two males he didn’t know, who didn’t even look at him. Then a tall fair-haired woman entered. She was one he knew well. And she certainly paid attention to him.

With a swift movement, not wasting a single moment, she reached under her tunic, pulled out a small bundle and tossed it to him. Without lingering, she took her tool as new humans crowded in.

“You must be quick,” Elwyn whispered over her shoulder without looking at him.

He dived for the bundle before she was out of the hut. Opening it, his eyes almost popped out: inside the canvas bag lay an apple, a slice of bread and a bit of cheese. First he went for the apple. Juicy! Watery! Yesss! It vanished in an instant, and he licked every drop of juice from his fingers. He gobbled the rest in huge mouthfuls too, stuffing in as much as he could at once. Not because of her warning – but because he couldn’t manage it any slower. He was hungry, hungry, hungry.

But she hadn’t spoken idly. Just when he swallowed the last crumbs and wiped his mouth on the sleeve – you need to remove all traces, Murtash – guard’s head reappeared at the door.

“Out! Back to work!!!”

He went. The feeling in his belly was not the best since he had devoured the food too fast; where the emptiness had been, it now felt like a heavy stone. Still, he felt far better than before. It was awful being hungry.

He worked, and contemplated. In fact, it was simple. His own kind had sentenced him to hunger and thirst. Even before this, he’d suffered at their hands.

On the other hand, humans – the enemies, slaves, whatever he named them – had helped him. Earlier, and now. Humans. Those whom his folk called evil.

Maybe he was a bad boy for thinking such things, but... how could he deny what he had lived through? He couldn’t. Blast this fucked complicated world...

During the midday break, Elwyn sat relatively near and watched him almost the whole time. When the guards whistled to end the rest, she pointedly dropped her eyes to the ground beside her feet, then back to him. Then she stood and walked away in the other direction.

He moved and, as casually as he could, walked to where she’d been sitting. There, as if forgotten, was a small pot of water and a scrap of dried meat.

Later, while they were working, he managed to get close to her for a moment. The guards were keeping an eye on them all, but they were too far to hear him. He could speak without danger.

“Thank you.”

Her head instantly turned to him. She watched him for a few moments, half-bent with her hoe still in the air, then smiled and nodded.

“You’re welcome,” she replied in his tongue. “You’ll get more tomorrow.”

Oh!

He didn’t know what else to say, so he only repeated the same two words he said a moment ago. “Thank you.”

The next night was also cold and lonely, but he felt calm. He didn’t cry. He wasn’t going to die. He wasn’t hungry like the night before, and he’d get food again tomorrow. All thanks to the humans.

Even the bugs were less frightening tonight.

The next morning Elwyn wasn’t among those who came for tools, but another woman left food for him. True, she didn’t even look at him, didn’t utter a word... yet still, she tossed a bundle at his feet.

The world... well, it had turned upside down. And nothing less than that.

-x-x-x-

Digging, digging, and more digging. How much longer?

“Why are we sowing wheat again? We sowed it in the autumn, and look, it’s coming up nicely.” He waved towards the fields planted half a year before. “Isn’t once a year enough? What’s the point? Is this wheat different?”

The overseers on their wargs were far enough, and he could speak freely. Of course, what he couldn’t and mustn’t have done, was stop working. Not for a second. Just as always.

Elwyn shot him an amused glance. “By Eru, if ever there comes a day when you don’t ask at least fifty questions, I’ll think you’re ill.” She smiled and started talking about the qualities of spring and autumn wheat, highlighting the differences in the grains, the sowing and harvesting times, and the advantages of each variety. By the time she’d finished, they’d gone up and down their section of field several times.

How fascinating! Right until now he had no clue that there were two varieties, let alone the differences among them. It wasn’t something one thought about while eating freshly baked, soft bread. A thing he had always taken for granted. And there was so much yet to find out – both about wheat and about everything else he’d seen over the past months.

But not just about growing food.

“This Eru of yours that you mentioned before...” he muttered, head down, not looking at her. He hadn’t asked any of the humans about it since that dreadful evening when Melyth had told him about Eru and the Valar and other things – the night the guards had caught him at the cage with the playthings.

He shouldn’t ask now either, right?

But the overseers were still well away.

“Our stories... khm... are different from yours.” His throat was suddenly dry and he felt the urge to cough.

Elwyn raised her brows at him. “That doesn’t surprise me in the least.”

He kept on digging without a word, gripping the hoe firmly in both hands, and staring straight ahead. Elwyn worked calmly nearby.

He shouldn’t... but the grown-ups were saying one thing, and reality showed another. Argh!

“How... how do I know what’s true?” He spoke so quietly that he barely heard himself.

Elwyn stopped only for a second and cast a quick glance around. He did the same. The overseers were far off.

“You can see better. Are they looking our way?”

He squinted and carefully checked. “No. I’d say they’re arguing amongst themselves.”

She turned towards him, looked him in the eye and crossed her arms over her chest. Her face looked serious and thoughtful.

“Many of us think that one day you won’t remember what you’ve learned from us. But I’m sure that won’t happen.” She tilted her head and pursed her lips, as if weighing her words. Finally, her expression softened, and her lips curved in the faint smile. “Yes, I know what’s true about the beginning of the world... but I can’t tell you that. Neither I, nor anyone else. You’ll have to find out for yourself. By watching and listening to the world around you.”

He raised his hand. “But I wa—”

“Not with your eyes, not with your ears. Feel it with your heart. From all I’ve heard and seen – first from Melyth’s words, then by myself – I’d say you have one.”

With that, she turned away and continued working, while he just stood there staring after her. With his heart? How? What should he do? How does one look with one’s heart? The heart was the thing that thumped in the chest, right? How could anyone see anything with it?

A moment later, Elwyn glanced back over her shoulder. “Get moving. It won’t go well if your lot sees you just standing there. And...” She smiled gently. “...don’t worry. You’ll get it.”

-x-x-x-

Work among the fruit trees had its perks compared with the wheat fields. If no one was looking, he could tuck a small apple into his clothes every day. True, now that summer had come, he wore only short trousers and a sleeveless tunic, but the pockets were deep enough and he was thin enough that nothing showed.

And there were so many fruit trees! Loads of apples, but other fruit as well; altogether, they must have been countless. The orchards stretched east of the cage, farther than he could even see. But why were there so many? Who’d know. Fruit, by itself, wasn’t bad and made a welcome addition, but the real thing, the best thing to eat, was roast meat. Still, the candied fruit and jams the females prepared – now that was a truly delicious yummy treat. Everyone loved it.

How fun it would be to come here with Uldut and play – run, hide behind all those trees and climb them. But he couldn’t. He was a slave.

At last, the day’s work ended and he found himself at the tail of the line of overseers. And it was precisely in that direction that Vurbag was striding. His heart instantly doubled its pace. Was he coming towards him? What was going to happen now? He froze, pressed his arms to his sides and dropped his head.

Vurbag stopped only two feet away. With his head lowered, all he could see were the chieftain’s boots.

“Slave!!!”

He jerked so hard he almost leapt and then raised his eyes. The tall black figure loomed over him. He trembled.

Vurbag watched him for a moment, with a vicious grin. His gaze ran up and down, and while the chieftain’s eyes observed him, he wondered in terror what the guy had in store for him. The grin promised nothing good.

“You almost ain’t grown a bit since last autumn! What use’ll you ever be?!”

He stopped breathing.

“Tell us! How’d you like the last few months! Enjoy bein’ a slave?! Like this life?!”

He opened his mouth but couldn’t get a sound out; his throat was too tight. He only shook his head hard, left and right.

“You ever gonna think of doin’ what humans do again?!”

He shook his head even more fiercely.

“Right then! Your punishment’s done! Because in two months in autumn the new lot starts training! Don’t know if you’ll be worth a shit, scrawny as you are. But it’s time for you! Try stayin’ alive!” Vurbag had already turned and taken a few steps, but then threw over his shoulder, “And if you’re useless with a sword, we’ll find summat else to do with you, hahaha!” Then at last he went off to the head of the line.

And it took a while before he could move again after the others headed for the village, and he had to run to catch up with them.

He would have to master that sword-fighting somehow. He had to. By any means.

But what if he failed?

Oh, may the Master help him. May He give him strength for wielding the sword. For there was only one ending for those who were useless.

-x-x-x-

It wasn’t cold, but the wind spoiled the autumn day a little; grit and dust stinging the eyes weren’t much fun. Not that it seemed to bother the male in front of them. He paced left and right, directing his red eyes at the thirty or so eight-year-olds before him. And not just his eyes; as he walked and addressed the boys, every so often he’d casually jab them with the sword he held.

He remembered the male from that day last spring. Those dark-red eyes and curly hair – just like Shozrac’s – were hard to forget. Now he heard his name: Gudrang. Chief sword-fighting instructor.

“You’re eight. You are becoming adult males from now on!” the male bellowed. Several boys gave whoops of excitement, but the instructor’s gaze locked on him. “If you survive training,” he added with a nasty grin.

He flicked a glance sideways at the boys of the same age standing in the row, and then at himself. True, his arms and legs had hardened with a year of work, but the improvement didn’t include his height. No matter how hard he tried to stretch himself upright, he was still nearly half a head shorter than the next smallest kid. He also had the shortest reach and the shortest, slowest legs.

Nothing new.

“I only lost this during my training.” Gudrang pushed back a tuft of curls to show his left ear. Half of it was gone. “Plenty of you will lose more.” He chuckled again and went on. “Why do we have to learn sword-fighting. There’s humans who are our allies. Ours and our Master’s allies. They live out east and down south. They’re alright. But most humans are wicked. Our slaves are wicked. Those far to the west too. There’s loads of them in the west. They want to destroy the Master. And us. Our job is to stop them. Kill them. Before they kill us. Are you ready to fight for the Master?”

“Yes!!!”

“Are you ready to die for the Master?”

“Yeees!!!”

He shouted with the other boys. Without the Master they would be lost, wouldn’t they? If the Master was their protector... then, fighting for him and dying for him was the least they could do for him in return. Anyway, if those wicked westerners really wanted to kill them, better to learn sword-fighting and be ready than be easy prey, right?

Except the humans he’d met weren’t wicked. They’d helped him when he needed it. More than once.

He sighed. Until last spring, the world had been simple. Easy to understand. And then it had stopped being so. Then everything had become very, very twisted and confusing.

Oh, if only it could all go back to the way it was...

All right, maybe Gudrang was telling the truth, or a part of it. Perhaps somewhere out in that far-off west – wherever that was – there really were evil humans, different from the ones here who had helped him. And if so... well, he’d try to learn how to defend himself.

“As of today you live in the males’ quarters. You sleep in the males’ huts. You will have your meals on the square next to the kitchens. With other males. You’re no longer children. Forget your mothers. Females are of no use anyway. Except for cooking. And fucking. And giving birth to new warriors.”

Well, he sure wouldn’t miss his mother. He hardly ever saw her, and when he did, she barely noticed him. But Uldut... that was another story. He was really fond of the kid and the games they’d played; playthings had opened a whole new world that no one else knew about. Yes, he’d miss the little one.

Hopefully, there’d be a moment here or there to see his brother and to explore a bit more. He still wanted to get to know the hills north of the village, since he didn’t have the chance for that in the past months. What’s more, he wanted... he wanted to learn more about humans. Strange, and full of surprises, even after all this time he had spent with them. Perhaps he could speak with Melyth again?

Murtash, get a grip.

He shouldn’t be thinking like that. They’d surely kill him if they knew what was going on in his head.

“We’re starting!!!” Gudrang shouted then.

He jerked out of his thoughts and looked around. The training ground was a flat stretch of land running on from the village’s southern edge. The ground was hard-packed soil. About half of it served as a sword practice area, and the other half featured round wooden targets; those were used for practising with bows and arrows. Beyond, to the south and east, the wheat fields spread out – fields he’d come to know so well over the past year.

Before he knew it, rough hands shoved him from behind and he hit the ground.

“You’re clumsy, slave,” Shozrac sniggered. “Falling over nothing.”

He flicked his hair across his brow.

“Go on, hide your mark, but we all know that you’re a slave, hahaha!” The words were followed by the booming laughter of all the boys who were there.

He'd remember this. He’d remember it all. Someday, somehow... he’d pay them back.

-x-x-x-

In the evening he looked around the huts in the males’ part of the village – his new home. All of them were rectangular in shape and roughly the same size, with the longer side about twice the length of the shorter side. Straw mats lay on the floor, their blankets caked with mud, and there wasn’t a single one without holes.

There were fewer free sleeping spots than new eight-year-olds, and the stronger boys had snatched them at once for themselves. The rest would have to share – like him, for instance. Ah well, all right, at least he was used to it because in the old hut he’d been crammed on a single mat with Uldut and the other kids.

They were becoming adults, Gudrang said. To be a male, be an adult – he could hardly wait! Now that he was little anyone could order him around. And beat him. Which they did – both. Once he was grown, hopefully they would stop.

But the old home was somehow... cosier. And safer.

Another day passed. He survived. Then a week passed. He survived that, too. Then a month. And another. It was the end of the eleventh month of the year already.

The good thing was that he was still in one piece, not a single body part missing.

The bad thing? He was black and blue with fresh bruises, and yellow-green with older ones, and all covered in cuts and scars, while his skill was no better than on the very first day. When the instructors showed their strokes and swipes, it all seemed so simple. But when it came to repeating them... not quite. The sword would sometime slip from his hand, and even when it didn’t, he often couldn’t manage to copy the demonstrated movements. Also, he sometimes stumbled. Over nothing at all on the flat ground.

Those metal things... swords... they were awfully big and heavy.

The training ground was packed every day. Alongside his own generation that just started their lessons were older boys, youths and grown males – overseers. They all had to train. The air rang with shouts and the clash of blades, as well as the whistle of arrows.

The days grew shorter, leaving the boys more free time in the evening hours. Sometimes he stayed in the huts with the others. Tonight – he wouldn’t. As many times before, he would slip back to his old home.

“Murtyyy!”

Uldut crashed into him and gave him a body-squeeze. Even Mazoga came to him with a wide grin on her round little face. Wait a moment... were they both bigger than last time? So quickly?!

It wasn’t fair.

Actually, it’s good that they’d grown, but only if he had, too!

“Oh, you again.” Mother’s eyes didn’t linger on him for more than a second. Then she turned to her flask.

She, on the other hand, had grown wider; her belly was sizeable again.

“Murty! Sword-fighting! Are you a great warrior yet?”

He was neither warrior nor great, but he grinned cheerfully and lifted his head.

“I am!” he replied.

Uldut had a hundred questions, and the time flew by in talk and play.

Yes, he was becoming a grown male now. Bit by bit. After all, that was exactly what Gudrang had told the group on the first day. But still... playing with his brother was just as fun as ever.

-x-x-x-

He blew into his hands and rubbed them together, then tucked each palm beneath the opposite armpit. It helped, though not much. In the past few days it was impossible to step outside without two thick tunics, one pulled over the other. He drew a deep breath, and the icy air scraping his lungs. He watched bright specks shining in the distance – the windows of the human huts – glittering in the night. How good it would be to be inside one now and get warm by the fire. But it wasn’t yet the time to return to the village. First, he had to find out what he needed to know.

He shivered in the wind. Shitty winter!

In the distance, something moved by the cage. At last! There they were! They appeared almost at the exact moment as on every previous night. He nodded to himself. Nice; the guards’ routine around the humans’ cage was the same as always. He had watched the cage from afar several times during the autumn, and he would again. He had to be entirely sure of the overseers’ passing schedule before continuing with the rest of his plan.

Well, fine, that was enough for tonight. Time to go back to the hut.

He quickly reached the village; the brisk pace warmed him as he went. It was dark but not yet late, so shouts, laughter and cries carried out from the barracks. He walked in the shadows, avoiding dark figures moving across the square and along the alleys. There were plenty males around, and some weren’t walking in quite a straight line.

He almost reached his destination, when he stopped mid-step. Look! A curly-haired figure, standing in front of their hut: alone, and plainly visible, lit from the inside.

And he himself was hidden in the dark of the alley. Invisible.

He looked around. Anything he could use...? By his feet lay something a shade lighter than the surrounding ground. He bent quickly and felt for it. A stone. Yes!

He clutched it. It was ice-cold. And just the right size for his fist.

He hurled it.

Shozrac shrieked, clutched his head and stumbled a little.

Meanwhile he darted off farther between the barracks. He wasn’t so stupid as to stay in the same spot and get caught! He didn’t stop for quite some time, and when he finally did – five rows of huts away at least – he spent several moments catching his breath, and then jumped in joy. “Yippeeeeeeeee!!!” Yes yes yes!!! He grinned from ear to ear. Oh, what a glorious feeling this was!

-x-x-x-

He repeated the move Gudrang had just shown – but rather poorly. Then again. And again. Phew, maybe it was the middle of winter, but with all this sword-training, it was really hot.

The instructors prowled among the boys.

“Faster, you useless idiot!”

“Stop whining, you worm!”

A foot kick.

“Fight, you sack of shit!”

“Get up! What are you, a girl or a male?”

“You bleeding? So what! Keep going you prat or drop dead!”

He kept going. Again, and again. Oh, this move was pretty difficult and challenging to master, he just needed to take a breath...

“Oooouch!!!”

Pain exploded in his head. Everything went black, and his ears throbbed and buzzed. Something warm ran from his temple down his cheek.

“Keep training! Or I’ll beat you senseless! Won’t be able to stand for a week!” roared the red-eyed chief instructor from above him.

He shook his head and blinked. Gudrang struck him twice more, then turned to the other boys with fists clenched. “This is prep for the enemies! For the humans! All humans except our allies are evil. Every last one! They’d kill us all if they could. They’d slash our throats! Slaughter us. In a second! Fight for the Master!”

When Gudrang moved on to the next group, he hauled himself up with great effort and lifted the sword that had dropped from his hand. Pressing his lips together, he scowled.

No. It wasn’t true. If anyone knew, it was him. In fact, as it seemed, he was the only one who knew.

He had fallen asleep among the humans that day, and nobody slit his throat. Even when he spent a whole night in the cage, nothing happened to him. And when the guards starved him for two days, the humans gave him food and water. Just like on some other occasions.

The grown-ups... they were lying.