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Old 06-18-2006, 03:04 PM   #2
piosenniel
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Brinniel's post - Shae


All slaves sentenced to death were to be executed publicly. Joren was no excuse- he was to be made an example of. The slaves of the southeastern quarters had only been asleep for a couple hours when they were reawakened and ordered to watch the execution. The hundred or so of them rubbed their groggy eyes and gathered around the wooden platform. Shae stood in the front. Joren had been there for her, through good and bad, and she would do the very same until the end. Her brother was dragged onto the platform, bleeding and his head hanging. His ears and tongue were gone, as were his fingers. For several minutes, the guards taunted Joren as they beat him. Then they pulled him to his feet. The executioner sharpened and positioned his blade. For a split second, Joren’s eyes found Shae’s. His expression was not one of fear, but of sincerity and regret. And then it was gone. The blade ran swiftly through his neck and then it was over. The slaves all trudged back to their quarters until there was only Shae left. Hands clenched into fists and feet planted to the ground, she found herself unable to take her eyes off her brother’s body. Then something in the dirt- a shine of silver- caught her eye. Shae reached down and picked up the item. It was a necklace- Joren’s necklace. The small symbol of the White Tree glowed dully underneath the stars. It was the last bit of her brother she had left. Tonight was the first night Shae was completely alone.

*********************

Shae woke suddenly, clutching the necklace, her forehead beaded with sweat. Taking a deep breath, she allowed her senses to return and opened her eyes. All around her, bodies were sprawled out inside the cave, fast asleep.
Great, she thought. It’s still night.
Shae was tired of having the same dream. Almost every night she witnessed Joren’s murder over and over again. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get her brother out of her head.

Shae sat up and unwrapped the rag on her left hand. Scars covered her palm and the most recent wound was only beginning to heal. Shae unlatched a dagger from her belt and used it to reopen the wound. The familiar pain felt soothing to Shae and as the blood poured from her hand, so did the memories of Joren’s death.

As Shae rewrapped her hand, one of the slave escapees kicked her foot in his sleep, startling her. Shae was not used to the large size of the group. For over a month, there had been only fifteen of them. She enjoyed the small number- all could carry their own weight and most were quiet and kept to themselves. Last night, the ex-slaves stumbled upon a large group of slave escapees and suddenly the number jumped from fifteen to sixty-five. There would be no privacy.

Outside, Shae could see a line of pink on the horizon. Dawn was approaching. No point in trying to go back to sleep now. Brushing back strands of tangled hair, she stood up and stepped outside, waiting for the sun to rise.

“Couldn’t sleep again?”
Shae turned around to find Khamir, as usual, on the last watch of the night.
She shook her head. “No. Too much to think about.”
“I know what you mean.” Khamir paused a moment before continuing. “We have sixty-five mouths to feed. I think we need to have a hunting party go out this morning. You up to it?”
“Of course,” she replied. “Aren’t I always? How about you?”
“No,” he said, scanning the sky. “I have a letter to write.”

Last edited by piosenniel; 06-30-2006 at 08:49 PM.
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