Chapter Text
The banging on his door wasn’t going to let up. Kadaman was nothing if not persistent. “Avad! Get your ass out here! You can’t hide forever!”
“I can try,” he called back.
“I’ll break this damn door down if you don’t get out here! Are you ready?”
“I’m not going!”
The splintering of the door as Kadaman kicked it in made Avad wince. He hastened to put his lyre away as his brother stalked toward him, then made a dash for his balcony. Kadaman took after their father, though, and his burly frame crashed into Avad and they tumbled to the floor. Avad swore as his head cracked against the stone and he saw stars. He tried to fight his older brother off, but Kadaman had more training in fighting and the upper hand, in any case. He ended up sitting on Avad, pinning his arms at his side with his legs. Avad spit at him, and he laughed as it fell short of his face.
“Look, you little shit, you’re coming with us to the Sun Ring. Do you want Father mad at you?”
Avad glared. “Tell him I’m sick. I’m on my deathbed. I don’t want to watch innocent people be slaughtered.”
“Neither do I, but you have to go. I’ll put you in shackles and make you walk with the sacrifices if you don’t come willingly.”
“People, Kadaman,” Avad snapped. “They’re people. They’re innocent people. They have families and loved ones.”
He got a shrug. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. You have to go. Everyone else is ready. Come on, pretty-boy.”
Avad turned his head to the side and deflated. The sacrifices were getting more frequent, and more numerous. Bloodier. Horrific. It was all he could do to run to his rooms at the Sun Ring to throw up before doing it in front of his father. “Get off of me,” he muttered. “I’ll get ready.”
“Good.” Kadaman stood, then reached down and pulled Avad up, the shorter man’s feet leaving the ground momentarily from the force of the pull. Kadaman leaned down to whisper in his ear, “I don’t want to watch that alone. Thank you.”
He helped Avad dress. Nothing needed packed but Avad’s lyre and a book of poetry - the royal family was at the Sun Ring often enough these days that their rooms there held everything they needed. Avad had to be prodded to stand up straight and give the appearance of the confidence befitting a prince, but made it down the stairs and to the caravan without further incident. Jiran, Nasadi, and little Itamen were already in the first litter, five palace servants on either side to carry it, and it was with a heavy sigh and great reluctance that Avad joined Kadaman in the second one. They were at Bright Market before Kadaman raised his foot and prodded Avad’s leg.
“Hey.” Avad didn’t look up. Kadaman prodded him again. “Blur your vision. That’s what I do.”
“It doesn’t help the screams.”
“Maybe one or two will survive this time. We can ask for them to be made servants.”
“This isn’t what the Sun God wants. Father is mad.”
He hadn’t looked up, but heard Kadaman’s sigh. “Don’t you dare get caught saying that, brother.” The servants opened the litter door and he jerked his chin towards it. “Out you go.”
Jiran was glowering at him. “You made us late, boy.”
Avad ducked his head in a sort of bow. “My apologies, Father. It won’t happen again.”
“See that it doesn’t. Hurry up, woman.” He stalked toward the barge that waited for them, gripping Nasadi’s upper arm hard enough that she winced, but turned her head to Itamen, holding him tightly. Kadaman’s hand on his arm stopped Avad from protesting her treatment at his father’s hands. Instead he made funny faces at his baby brother as the child watched him over his mother’s shoulder. Itamen giggled. It warmed Avad. He paused long enough to grab some fruit from a stall, empty of its vendor, but he heard the shaking and frightened breathing from beneath the cart. He dropped a handful of shards on the counter, not bothering to count. It was more than enough.
“May the Sun ever shelter you,” he whispered before half-jogging to catch up with his family. Once on the barge, he sat next to Nasadi and offered her a peeled orange with a smile. She didn’t look at him, but took it with a faint smile and nod. Itamen wiggled out of her arms and held his arms out for Avad, who picked him up and set him in his lap. He sliced another orange into eighths and put one in his mouth, only the peel showing. Itamen giggled again, then squealed with laughter when Avad made funny noises and rubbed the peel over his face. Avad fed him fruit, and the three-year-old was asleep by the time they had crossed the lake. Avad wanted to take him into his and Kadaman’s litter, but he didn’t trust his father to not harm Nasadi if they were left alone, so handed the boy back to his mother with a pained smile. She hugged her son and kissed his cheek.
“She’s absolutely miserable,” Kadaman observed once they were on the move.
“She bore a male, at least. She’s safe from sacrifice.”
“True. Hopefully she’ll bear another one next. A princess would be interesting, but useless. There’s hardly anyone left to marry her off to.”
Avad leaned his head back against the side of the litter and listened to the servants’ footsteps for a while. They didn’t dare make a sound. He could hear them trying to hide their heavy breathing. “Help me get them decent food tonight.”
“Who, the servants?” Kadaman snorted a little. “You’re too kind to them.”
He stared at the roof. “They don’t deserve this.”
“So play them a song. Pick their spirits up.”
It was a good idea. Avad leaned over and opened his lyre case, settling the instrument on his lap. He took a moment to consider what to play before choosing a quick-paced piece with the hope of picking up their spirits at least a little. At least it might distract them from the weight of the litter, the merciless heat of the sun, and the long trek to the Sun Ring. Kadaman tapped his foot, nodded along, and clapped a bit with the beat. Perhaps the music would reach Nasadi and cheer her, too. His second-mother deserved it. Avad hardly stopped playing until they got to the Sun Ring. He was exhausted and sweating by that time, but the more-relaxed looks and attitudes of the servants as he stepped out of the litter made it worth it. The servant who held the door open gave him a smile and a deeper bow than usual. Avad pressed the last of his apples into the woman’s hands. Her eyes widened and she hid them in her shirt quickly, before the guards saw.
“Share them,” he murmured. She nodded and dropped a quick curtsy. Kadaman just rolled his eyes.
“You’re too soft on them.”
“And you’re not soft enough,” Avad countered. “I suppose it evens out.” He got a snort, and begged a headache when dinner came around, escaping to his room with a plate of food as his father muttered about weakness. He waited until it was past midnight before leaving as quietly as he could and then padding to Kadaman’s room. He knocked softly.
“What?” was Kadaman’s somewhat breathless reply. He grunted and the sound of his bed creaking rhythmically and a woman’s faint whimpers made Avad’s stomach turn. Kadaman had no issue with bedding servants. They couldn’t say no, after all.
“It’s Avad. I need your help.”
He got a disgusted sigh. “Fine. Give me a minute.” Avad moved down the hallway enough that he couldn’t hear his brother and whoever had tickled his fancy. A few minutes later the door opened and Kadaman pushed her out, shirt clutched against her breasts. She didn’t look too distressed - despite Kadaman’s disregard of whether or not a servant actually wanted him, he did look to their pleasure, and woe betide anyone who harmed a servant he was bedding. Word about that got around. He was approached by servants often, looking for protection from abuse by the palace guards and occasional guests. Avad himself was occasionally propositioned. He always turned them down as gently as possible, but let them stay in his rooms for the night and let everyone assume he held the same views on bedding them as Kadaman did. “What do you want?”
“Mimaw should still be awake. Come on.” Avad turned down the hall, trailing after the yellow-haired woman as she ran from them. “She’ll have saved the leftover food from dinner.”
Kadaman snorted. “You and your crusade of goodness.” He slung his arm around Avad’s shoulders as they walked. He hadn’t bothered with a shirt. His vest was open, exposing his broad chest and sharply defined muscles. His pants hung loose on his hips. “You should take a servant. They might be able to stand your sonnets.”
“I’m not going to bed someone who doesn’t legitimately want me, and Father banned me from writing sonnets at all.”
“And thank the Sun for that,” Kadaman laughed. “For as much as you like poetry, you’re damn awful at it.”
That made Avad huff with laughter. “They’re not that bad.”
“Oh, yes they are. Trust me. You’re terrible. Are you sure you don’t want a servant? That one was decent. Definitely not a virgin - knows how please a man.”
“I said no.” Avad brushed the thick lock of hair that insisted on falling across his forehead back. They were quiet the rest of the walk down to the kitchens. He smiled at the old woman who was tending the fire. “Mimaw. How are you?”
She pursed her lips as she looked him up and down and pointed to a plate piled high with meat that sat on the long table. “You’ve lost weight. Eat.”
“I already did, I promise.” She always tried to feed him. He got a glare and another, stronger, gesture, and immediately sat and forced the food down as Kadaman laughed at him. “You’ll be wanting the leftovers, then.”
“Yes, Mimaw, please.”
“Don’t let anyone catch you feeding them.”
“No, Mimaw.” She bustled around for a few moments, making sure the food was wrapped tightly. “Do you need help?”
“I’ve run a kitchen for forty years, boy. I know how to do this.” She finally turned and set the food in front of him. “Hurry.”
“Yes, Mimaw.” Avad dropped a kiss on her cheek and she smiled slightly as she rolled her eyes. “Thank you.”
“Just get out of my kitchen.”
Kadaman followed him, still chortling, as he hurried to the servants’ quarters. It was a large room with mats and thin blankets on the floor. He knocked, and gave them time to make sure they were decently clothed before opening the door. They were staring, clearly afraid of what he and his brother would want from them. The yellow-haired woman was being held by a brown-haired man. He was kissing her gently on the forehead. Avad turned to glare at Kadaman, who just shrugged.
“This is for you,” Avad said as he stepped in enough to set half the food on the floor. “Make sure it’s gone before morning. I’m … I’m sorry. For everything.” He gave them a half-hearted smile, then stepped back and closed the door again.
“I don’t know why you apologize to them. It’s not your fault.”
“Because someone needs to treat them with respect,” Avad snapped. “Come on.”
“Where are we going now?” Kadaman was suspicious. “You’re not thinking of feeding the sacrifices.”
“Don’t they deserve a decent meal before they die?” was Avad’s question. “We can’t save them, but we can at least do this.” He got a long-suffering sigh, but when they had sufficiently intimidated the guards at the door to the cell the captives were piled in into silence, Kadaman, too, stepped forward to hand the food out. “I’m sorry,” Avad repeated.
“For what?” one of the women scoffed. “If you were sorry, you’d set us free.” She was shorter than him, but her muscles were clearly defined and she was holding her chin up in defiance, glaring at them both.
“I wish we could,” Avad replied as he handed her some food. She snatched it out of his hands and sniffed it.
“Is it poisoned? The least you could do is poison us and spare us from the slaughter.”
“No.”
“Do you think this makes us feel better about dying? Are you thinking of raping one of us, too?” She was full of fire, hair cropped short and angry brown eyes hiding her fear. Her entire body was tense.
Avad flinched a little. “I would never do that. We can at least do this for you.”
She spit on the floor and turned to give her food to an obviously pregnant woman. Avad’s stomach churned. She wouldn’t stand a chance against the machines. “Get out.”
“I’m ---”
“Get out!”
He backed up in a hurry, and Kadaman followed. For once, his brother didn’t needle him about his treatment of servants and captives. At his room, he gripped Avad’s shoulder and looked at him with eyes tight with pain. “I’m sorry, Avad. We’ll figure out a way to stop Father.”
“Not soon enough. Goodnight.” He turned away and walked to his room, laying awake until just before sunrise, when he got up to join his family in the morning sun salutations. The sun was at its peak when they gathered above the Sun Ring and watched the captives being led out. His father spread his arms out to address the gathered crowd.
“My people!” he bellowed. His voice echoed. The captives flinched, but the woman who had confronted Avad just glared up at him. Their eyes met, then he looked away. “May the Sun God accept these sacrifices and end this derangement of the machines that haunts us! May their blood sate the Sun’s thirst, and deliver us from this torment!” The roar that rose from the crowd was deafening and desperate. Avad whispered desperate pleas to the Sun for quick deaths. “Release the machines!”
The Watchers came first, hooting their warning cries as they bounded to circle the captives The captives only had crude weapons and shields to defend themselves with. Avad watched with a tight chest as they formed a circle around the most vulnerable of the group. The fiery woman was calling out commands, shifting the group to and fro. When the Watchers blasted their weapons at them, the entire group ducked and held their shields up before advancing forward. When the first Watcher leaped, the woman launched herself at it, hands grasping at the creature’s delicate wiring and ripping at it. She wedged her spear between the wires to help, then fell back as sparks flew. The Watcher struggled up with a scream and she scream back at it. The vulnerable had been backed against a wall, where they could be better protected.
The safety didn’t last. At Jiran’s command, the next wave of machines was loosed. The captives tumbled away from the weapons of the Scrappers, but some weren’t quick enough, and their screams of pain rose over the sounds of the fighting. Avad clenched his fists. Kadaman gripped his elbow. The captives’ numbers dwindled as more and more machines were let loose on them. Avad’s fingernails broke skin as a stray beam of energy ripped into the pregnant captive, spilling her child into the dust. Her husband screamed and launched himself at her in a doomed bid to save her, holding her body tightly to him and wailing. The warrior women screamed something at him, but it was too late - a Scrapper was on him, tearing at his flesh. The woman came at it and drove her spear into a vulnerable spot, but she was too late to save the man. She screamed in fury and attacked a Bellowback head-on, leaping onto its head to stab at the sack of fluid it carried as it spewed fire across her companions. More fell even as she pierced the container and drained it of its fuel.
Avad leaned against the balustrade and clutched at it. He was shaking. The captives were fierce, but by the time the last machine had fallen, there were only three left out of over twenty. The woman was amongst them, and she whirled to look up at the royal family, at Avad, and screamed again, curses and profanities and wordless anger. Her voice was hoarse and broken with fury and tears. She aimed her spear and threw it at them, but there was no way it could reach them and it tumbled uselessly to the ground.
Jiran held his arms up for silence from the crowd. “May the Sun God accept these sacrifices. Those who survived will have the blessing of serving in the palace at Meridian.” That brought hoots and jeers. “If they wish to survive,” he continued as guards warily advanced on them, “they will accept and not struggle.” He never addressed captives directly. It was beneath him. “Clean them up and tend to their wounds,” was his command to a servant as he turned away. “Come.” That was directed to his family, and they followed him without a word. Avad was silent throughout dinner. The captives were eventually led in, heads bowed but for the woman, who glared at everyone with a snarl. She was limping.
“She looks like she could beat the crap out of you,” Kadaman observed. “You like that sort of woman, don’t you?” Avad stared down at his meat, but the image of the small body falling from its mother flashed across his eyes and he pushed his plate away, standing as Jiran observed the captives and decided what their roles would be. He didn’t notice Avad leave the room. Avad paced through the palace for a few hours, unable to leave the memory of the sacrifice behind. He had made it to the kitchens, and Mimaw just sighed and handed him two bottles of wine. He drank half of one before stumbling back to his room, where Kadaman was waiting with a grin. “There you are! You missed the allocations. I grabbed a present for you.”
“Don’t want it,” Avad mumbled. He took another drink of wine. “Wanna forget.”
“Too bad. I think you’ll like it.” He opened Avad’s door with a flourish and grand gesture. “Ta-dah!” The woman was sitting on the edge of his bed, cleaned, dressed in sheer silks, and bandaged. Avad stared at her blankly. Kadaman nudge him. “Well? What do you think? You two got along so well last night, I thought you’d like her as a servant.” Her fists were clenched and she was glaring at him. Avad wondered if she had any other facial expression.
“Don’t want her,” was his now-slurred reply.
“Well, she goes to the guards if you don’t take her. I had to beg Father to give her to you.”
That got Avad’s attention, and he stumbled forward, throwing his arms out in a uselessly protective gesture. “No! No. No.” He was shaking his head. “No. No.”
Kadaman laughed. “Alright, then. I’ll leave you two to get acquainted.”
He closed the door, and Avad turned back to her. He didn’t know what to say, but she let loose on him. “You damn spineless bastard,” she spat, literally. It hit Avad’s cheek and he jerked his head a bit. “Merna and Jorand were my friends. They’d been married less than a year. It was their first child. You give us food before we’re slaughtered but won’t do anything else, won’t try to save us. You could have done something, anything to help. Don’t think you’re a good man just because you show us a moment of pity. I hope you die. If you untie me, I’ll kill you myself. How do you sleep at night, knowing what your bastard of a father does?”
She went on to curse him some more, and Avad took another drink as he swayed. “D’you think I don’t have nightmares?” he asked. She stopped mid-curse, something about a forge and hammers and his balls. “D’you … d’you think I like what he’s doing? That I haven’t begged him to stop?” Another drink, and he had to sit down on the floor in front of her, dizzy as his vision blurred. “I can’t forget …”
“I hope you get shredded like my friends.”
She was tied up, secured to the bed with ropes binding her hands and across her lap, secured to the legs of the bed. Avad tipped over on his side and closed his eyes. “So do I.”
She was silent for a bit, then jerked a little against her restraints. “Well, get to it, then.”
“... get to what …”
“Raping me. Killing me. Whatever you’re planning on doing to me.”
He held the bottle of wine out. “... was gon’ offer you a drink …”
“Well, get up then, you drunken ass, and give it to me. I’d like to not remember this in the morning.”
“What?” Avad struggled to sit up, then leaned against her knees and tipped the bottle against her lips. She gulped it down. “I’m … I’m not gon’ hurt you. I don’t … don’t wan’ hurt anyone … I’m sorry …” His chest clenched as he saw the blood starting to seep through her bandages. Her silks clearly showed her breasts and nipples, and he stared at them for a moment before he managed to think that she would want them covered. He crawled to the standing wardrobe and managed to struggle with the door until it opened. After a blind grab, he crawled back to her with one of his linen shirts, almost blacking out as his equilibrium shifted when he pulled himself onto the bed next to her and pulled it over her head. It hung around her neck. He belatedly remembered that her arms were bound. “Here.” She took more gulps of the wine. There was strong beer sitting on his desk. “Here.” It was a bad idea to untie her. Avad didn’t care. It would be a mercy if she killed him. He undid the ropes and she immediately punched him in the jaw. He fell onto the floor with a grunt and then flailed his arm to the desk. “Drink.”
She kicked him as hard as she could in the ribs. He held back a cry of pain as best as possible. The guards outside his door didn’t need to hear him. They’d kill her. By the time she’d downed the beer, she, too, was weaving. “They were my friends,” she whispered. “My friends.”
All Avad could do was apologize. He winced as he struggled to sit up again and crawl into bed. He sat with his head between his legs and groaned. The woman sat beside him and offered him the rest of the wine. He downed it, then fell backward and watched the ceiling spin. He was numb. She took the opportunity to slap him a few times. He closed his eyes and accepted it.
Finally she, too, fell beside him. “Y’not gon’ hurt me?”
“No,” he whispered. He was on the verge of blacking out. “... I’m Avad.”
“I know, y’shitfaced boar.” Then, “... I’m Ersa.”
It was the last thing Avad remembered before slipping into nightmares.