Chapter 5: Will

I can't remember ever feeling so much in my life. It isn't that I've never felt this good, or ever felt this bad, or anything inbetween- but I can't recall the last time I just felt this much, period. I'm confused and don't know what to feel. I'm anxious, curious of where we're going, disappointed Commander doesn't praise me or compliment me, and scared that the man I ruined is lurking around this city. I almost feel alive again.

Regardless of how beautiful I feel, a glance into a pool of water tells me otherwise. My mother told me once that you are your own worst critic. My face is sunken in, abrasions and scabs and bruises discolour my arms, my chest, my bare legs. My collar bone is more defined than it should be and my posture as I walk on my chicken-legs is gruesome. A man on a bike pedals through a puddle and splashes water on my dress. Nobody seems to care how ugly I am and Commander keeps pulling me onward. I withdraw into myself again, numb, alone, and dormant.

Commander pushes me in front of him as we near a gate. A palace with white-washed walls, blue shutters and roofing, gardens and fountains looms beyond the gates. It is so bulky and large and over-embellished it is disgusting. A guard grabs my arm as Commander approaches another one. He's going to demand they let me go I think with a fleeting glimmer of hope. The guard standing before me feels over my body just as Commander did before initially taking me. The guard standing by Commander throws a bag of coins at his chest. Commander's not going to sell me... he's just testing me... The guard cups my buttox in his hands and smirks. I swing my fist and hit the guard in the side of the head. His cap is lined in metal and my arm burns up to my elbow. He laughs at me and I try to bite him. His thick gloves prevent him from taking any damage. Commander save me! I helplessy yell in my mind. The guard pulls up on the collar of my dress and shoves me down. I look up at Commander with pleading eyes to find his back is turned to me and he is walking away. The bag is swaying in his hand. I don't even bother feeling betrayed.

I'm taken inside. The dainty flowers laugh at me, the bushes stare me down as I pass, the flowing water pulls me toward the gothic doors towering ahead reminding me how small I am. Inside it is white-washed like the outer walls but eerie and shadowy. Boisterous women in expensive clothing move gracefully about the inner court smiling and giggling with their male escorts.

After climbing an endless stairway I'm taken to a waiting room. Several other girls my age- some dirty, some anxious, some firghtened and cowering- are here also. I pass through the small crowd to the only window in the room. Looking out I see buildingtops, venders, and further on the outskirts I see a small plot of land and a single woman nursing it. She reminds me of my mother when she worked in the garden before our land became a desert.

I turn back and examine the interior of the room. I am angry, but not because I was taken captive, not because I was forced to come here, not because I was sold by my one hope in life, but because all of those years my family and I struggled in the desert, rich people lived here without care and effortlessly. This place is obviously affiliated with the bandits.

A man comes in armed with a narrow club. One of the girls tries to run past him to get away and she is beaten down until blood flows from the back of her head. She cries and moans in pain as all of the girls in the room stare in terror. Eventually after nobody steps forward to help the girl, her cries die as she does. I fairly justify her murder as an example to prevent more struggle from the rest of these girls.

The girls silently crawl to the walls trying to hide themselves in the shadows and resisting tempation to scream. I step forward hoping he deals me a quick blow to my neck and breaks it. Instead he brings his gloved hand down over my face and I fall in the blood on the floor.

"Bold, brave, and admirable, but that will get you nowhere here," a man says after the guard described the situation to him. You mistake my intentions I say in my mind. I suppose I should be curious, but I am not and I do not bother to look up. I hear his footsteps splashing in the blood and his cane clacks in front of him as he walks past me. Obviously he's seen this before since he was not shocked by the dead body a foot away from me.

His footsteps intrude upon the young girls and one screams as he reaches out for her. He asks her to become a part of his collection and she utters a word of refusal delicately. The man with the club rushes past me, the girl violently screams as the gentleman tries to demand his guard to cease his actions. She is beaten to death. So we have to learn the rules the hard way. What better way to remember them than to provide an example we won't forget.

He approaches another girl and asks again. "To become a concubine you mean?" her voice trembles.

"In short, yes. But not for me, for my son. I see all of his concubines as daughters of mine and family. I'm interested in no such things a mere concubine alone can provide but I continue trying to find a daughter in at least one. That's all my late wife ever wanted, a daughter," he said deeply. The melancholic tone in his voice grits against the raspy words. It makes me shiver.

I hear the clicking resume. "Everybody in a line!" the guard demands with a shout. A few girls shriek as they all scramble to form a line in fear of being beaten to death. Thinking my impudent behaviour will result in my awaited death I remain on the floor. The guard's gloved hand grabs my arm and the hair on my neck stands up by instict. I await the final blow but he merely forces me up and forces me toward the line. He places me inbetween two girls and walks up the line, tapping each girl with his baton as a warning.

The gentleman starts at the beginning. I cannot see anything but I can hear the frail voices of the frightened girls as they respond to the gentleman's questions. He approaches the girl to the left of me. I glance over and see him touching her face. He asks her for her name, age, and so forth. He steps away from her to me.

I find myself standing face to face with a man whose face I cannot see. He is wearing a mask which shields his eyes and forehead. I'm almost curious how he sees through the solid metal piece. He raises his hand to my face and as he feels over it I notice his disfigured ear and the three scars protruding from under the mask. I look to the other side and see a similar disfigurement. He asks me for my name.

"What is your name, child?" he asks. After a moment he repeats the question. I cannot answer him.

The guard rushes to me and shakes me. He demands I speak. I suddenly get frightened as I realize who the man is. I shake my head, hoping he'd catch on. "Sir, she's a mute I'm assuming," the guard reasonably guesses.

"Ah," the man says. "Give her chalk and ask her to spell. Surely a lady her age can write." The guard returns shortly after with a small tile and chalk. On the tile I write "Anne" mistakenly, having her on my mind. I try to erase it but the guard pulls the tile away before I can.

"Her name is Anne, sir," he says softly and almost sympathetically.

"Anne? Anne, you don't say," he replies. He angrily grabs at me. I could feel his aura fill with hatred. I know he will kill me now. But his face softens and he stands eye level with me. "My wife's name was Anne. We had a daughter named Anne aswell. She was mute as you are but you are much smaller-framed than she so I know it is not so. It is a common name." I can't help thinking, He still thinks of me as his daughter after all of that?

He does not continue down the line but instead takes his leave. "I'll have her," he tells the guard.

"Just that one?" he replies, "there are many fine young ladies among her and she is rather scanty and unattractive."

"Just that one," he demands. "Take the rest to the nobles' chambers and let them have their pick for half the normal price. Sell the rest to the venders in the streets."

The girls are led and pushed out by the guard and I am left in the room alone. Hours pass and darness fills the room. I lounge around, seeking comfort in corners, on benches, and lying on the floor. I wait. I wonder if they intend to leave me here forever and have me starve to death.

Dim light comes through the window. I wake from a dream to the sunrise. The timid light reminds me of the tent-scene. I hallucinate Commander's blood-shot eyes when he cried to someone he saw in me. Hours later the doors pry open. An artificial beam of light drowns out the sunlight and a man walks in. He is not like the blind man who I remember so well, but he is taller, thinner, and much younger.

"Hello," he says. His voice is gentle, soothing, and boyish. "My father informed me that I had a new concubine in waiting for my approval." He sits beside me and I tense my body. He sees this but ignores it and continues on. "The fate of concubines is so beautiful. They are dressed, adorned, embellished with beautiful gifts, fed the best foods. They sleep until noon if they please and are the only females in the city allowed to drink with men." He sighs. "My father continuously brings in a steady flow of them. I have several dozens adjacent to my chamber now. It is a beautiful and easy life for a woman, but they are worthless creatures. I hate them all and none can satisfy my manly needs for I hold interest in none. I only keep them so father will not throw them out onto the streets where they will be defenseless." He pauses and finishes with "You can call me Will".

My mind is cluttered. Emotional overload.

"Surely you'll take a liking to the other ladies you'll share a room with. They are all beautiful and they will treat you well. You are new so they will brush your hair and bathe you and dress you. You will be a doll for a bit but in return the center of attention." He stands to leave. "Follow me and I will take you to them. Don't be afraid. Everything you've been through until now will be no more soon." He is caring but I know this is not special treatment. This is how he treats them all, the naive souls.

I shake my head, refusing his offer. I would rather be thrown back in the streets, I would rather be killed, I would rather be in the desert to die beside my brother. He urges me to come. He is kind and I find no reason to make his time difficult.

The inside of the chamber is just as grossly embellished as the outside of the palace. In the middle is a lotus pond. Around that are couches decorated with beautiful women in sheer clothing and expensive jewlery. A trace of light perfume delicately scents the air. In the corner a couple of women sit in a bath with rose petals floating in the water. They turn towards me and the boy openly and shamelessly exposing their breasts and wet bodies. They giggle together and turn back to each other's gossip.

"I expect you'll treat her well," he says and nods at the erotic ladies. They all giggle and anxiously shift around the room. I mistake their anxiousness as a threat and instead of seeing harmless women wanting to play with me I see lionesses circling me, ready to rip me to shreds the moment he lets me alone in the wild. I am frightened of these women. Paranoia brings tears to my eyes and the boy looks at my melancholy face with suprise. "Normally the new girls are ecsatic. Surely you are just confused. Nevertheless, come with me."

All the women pout and awe in disappointment. "But Will!" they protest with pitiful looks on their faces. A few approach him, clinging to him and hanging from his arms. They insist that I should stay and they will treat me like a queen. I shy away from them and Will denies their requests and leads me away.