Last Tales of Mercia 8: Audrey the Slave Page 3
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“We’ll make our move on Saturn’s day, when Sir Ralph escorts us to the quarry.”
Audrey had joined the boys in their late-night huddle. Now that she’d taken charge, she had called them together much later in the night, when most of the other slaves were deeply asleep. She also forced everyone to speak in very low whispers. Rodgar had not even challenged her authority when she announced she had a plan. Ever since Osbern cut off Gimm’s ears several days ago, Rodgar rarely spoke at all. He seemed more traumatized by the event than Gimm himself. Perhaps he had told Gimm to steal the food, and thus considered the blame as his own.
Audrey had not confessed that it had all been her fault. She regretted what had happened that day, but she could not go back and change it. The only thing to do now was move forward. She understood now that Rodgar had been right. Any life was better than this one. Any role she might play would be better than serving the Normans. Normans like Osbern, however lonely, would never see her as more than a slave for their bidding. And they did not deserve to live in a castle built by her hands.
A small pile of stones on the motte had been stained by Gimm’s mutilation. Osbern used them in the construction anyway. This simple act had illustrated to Audrey that she could no longer take pride in her role as a laborer. Her work did not contribute to something great and magnificent. It enabled the creation of a monstrosity; a monstrosity that would further empower the Normans to terrorize their Anglo-Saxon neighbors.
“Sir Ralph is a nice man.” Gimm spoke so softly Audrey barely heard him. His eyes stared sadly into the single flickering candle. He reached up to scratch at the bandage around his head where his ear had once been, then thought better of it and lowered his hand. “I hate to do that to him.”
Audrey couldn’t believe Gimm still felt any sympathy for the Normans at all. But she understood the sentiment. “I know. That’s why it must be him. He’s the most likely to relax his guard. And his squire is an idiot. We’ll corner them both in the narrow gorge just before we reach the quarry. They’ll be carrying a decent load of food for the journey, and we’ll take it from them before we go.”
“What about the horses?” said Rodgar. “We could steal those, too.”
“We leave them. They’d make us easier to track, even if we escaped faster. There wouldn’t be enough for all of us, anyway.”
“Why not kill Ralph and his squire?” asked Anson from the shadows. “We’ll already be outlaws. We might as well go all the way.”
“Absolutely not!” Audrey leaned close to him, hissing against his sour expression. “It’s too risky to kill anyone. Tie them up, knock them out, perhaps. But not kill.” She drew back and regarded the rest of the group. “Besides, I’d rather we not think of ourselves as outlaws. We are escaping unjust captivity, which seems lawful enough to me, if King Edward would come to his senses. We are all of age and we deserve to swear fealty to the lords of our choice; not a foreigner who dragged us from home as children.”
Everyone considered the truth of her words.
“Until then,” said Audrey, “rest plenty and—most importantly—don’t do anything foolish. Act submissively. Pretend that what happened to Gimm scared you into obedience. Don’t show them your hope or your confidence, no matter how excited you may get. Save all that for Saturn’s day. Understand?”
Reluctant nods.
“Very good. Now get to bed.”
As she shuffled back to her blankets, Audrey marveled at her own transformation. A few days ago she had tried to convince them all that escape was futile. Now she led the charge to freedom. She was glad none of them held this against her. The incident with Gimm nearly broke the boys’ resolve, but it had fiercely ignited Audrey’s. The group preferred following her lead to losing hope altogether.
“Psst. Audrey.”
She scowled as Rodgar shuffled onto the floor next to her. She recognized his voice, but could hardly see him as he groped through the darkness. His hands found the messy knot of her hair. She smacked his hand away. “You should be resting!”
She felt him as he stretched across the floor, his knees bumping hers, his breath tickling her nose. She wondered what on earth he was doing. She had no time to prepare herself when he moved even closer and latched his lips around hers.
She didn’t move at all—either due to shock, the fear that she might somehow make matters worse, or the conflicting emotions that told her that Rodgar’s kiss was both disgusting and pleasant all at the same time. Fortunately he didn’t move either, as if equally petrified, until at last he decided his lips had lingered long enough and released her.
“I sure hope that was an accident,” whispered Audrey, finding herself somewhat breathless.
“Audrey.” His hand groped awkwardly again, then found her shoulder and gripped it. “I am glad you changed your mind. I hope you know now that there will be something to look forward to, something to live for, once we get out of this place.”
“Yes.” Perhaps he meant something else entirely, but Audrey now understood what role she would serve once she escaped from these walls. “I am going to live for the day I see all of these fucking stones ripped out of this castle and put back in the earth where they belong.”