Sara Larson - Defy

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it , I commanded myself, swallowing the thick lump in my throat and clenching my teeth together.

“What do you two think you’re doing?” one of the king’s guard asked when we were only a few feet away.

“Don’t tell me you’ve come to help,” another sneered. “The prince’s guards aren’t man enough for this type of work.”

A trickle of sweat ran between my breasts, sliding down my belly. I reached down and grasped the hilt of my sword. For some reason, it helped calm me down. “Do you want help or not?” I asked. “Because we’ll leave if you’re going to be pigs about it.” I was grateful when my voice came out biting and hard. My stomach churned and my heart pounded as I forced myself to stare at the guard, refusing to look at the orphans.

“We’ll take the help,” the first guard replied grudgingly. He began to shout orders, telling the other three men to separate the boys from the girls. “You two can help me escort the girls to their new home,” he said to us with a nod of his chin toward the breeding house. “You three” — he lifted his voice at the other guards as they worked on getting the boys and girls into separate lines — “take the boys to the barracks, get them assigned to separate battalions.”

I watched helplessly as the girls followed the guards’ nudges and shouts, most of their faces resigned. This could have been me, forced into a life of rape, attempting to breed as many new soldiers for the king’s army as possible before my body gave out.

“Breathe,” Marcel murmured from next to me.

I realized that I was gripping my sword so tightly that my knuckles were white, and my chest was heaving. I had to get myself under control. There was nothing I could do to stop this — there was nothing I could do to keep these girls from their fate. No matter how badly I wished I could.

When the guards reached the littlest girl and her brother, the brother wouldn’t release her hand.

“You can’t take her,” he said, stepping in front of her. He couldn’t have been more than ten.

“Step away, boy.” The guard’s voice was hard.

“No. You can’t have her!” he repeated more vehemently, turning and wrapping his arms around the little girl, whose whole body shook violently as tears ran silently down her face. She clung to her brother, her small fingers clutched in his tunic.

“You take the girl, I’ve got the boy,” the guard said, gesturing to one of his companions.

The first man grabbed the girl’s arms and pulled, while the second guard took the boy, yanking him away from his sister. She screamed, a desperate sob, reaching, grasping for her brother as they were torn apart by the guards.

“ Kalen! No! Leave her alone!” The boy shouted and thrashed, but it was no use.

I hadn’t even realized I’d started to move forward until Marcel grabbed my arm, forcing me to stop. My chest was on fire, my whole body thrummed with horror, with fury.

“Come on, let’s get these girls out of here before they draw too much attention to themselves. We don’t want to disturb the king,” the guard in charge said, marching forward to the first girl in line. “You two take the rear, and keep an eye on that one; she tried to escape once already.” He pointed at a tall girl in the middle of the line, who glared back defiantly.

The other guards herded the boys in the opposite direction, leaving us alone with the girls.

“Follow me,” the guard shouted at the frightened line of girls, “and don’t even think about trying to run away. You’ll be shot down before you make it ten feet.” With one last look, he turned on his heel and began to march across the grounds to the breeding house. The girls hesitantly followed, even Kalen, who was still sobbing quietly. An older girl held her hand now and was speaking softly to her.

“I can’t do this,” I whispered to Marcel, my breath coming in spurts.

“We have to,” he said, meeting my panicked gaze with a bleak one of his own. “I’ll go first. You follow me.”

He turned and marched across the grounds behind the row of girls. I made myself follow, and forced my mind to go blank. I concentrated on staring up at the building in front of us instead of the row of girls, until the guard in front stopped and pounded on a wooden door.

A few moments later, it swung open to reveal an older man with thinning hair and small, watery eyes. “Brought me some new girls, eh? We’re almost full, until they finish building the new addition, but I’ve got a few rooms open. Doesn’t hurt to make ’em share, either.” His jowls were ruddy, and a sheen of sweat glistened on his fat upper lip.

“That’s fine, Horace,” the guard said.

Horace opened the door wider and gestured for the girls to go in. “Come on, then. I haven’t got all night. There’s still work to be done.” He winked at the guard and I had to swallow the bile that rose in my throat.

The guard went in first and the girls slowly followed. Some of them walked in tall and proud, others went in with their shoulders trembling. When Kalen entered, still holding the other girl’s hand, Horace whistled. “My, aren’t you a pretty young thing? Don’t worry, you can stay with your friend for a while. You’re no good to us yet. Not for a few years anyway.” He chuckled.

My hands clenched into fists at my side, but Marcel threw me a warning glance over his shoulder, as if he could read my thoughts. Or maybe he was having the same ones but knew we were helpless to stop this. It was the king’s orders and no one could defy them, least of all Marcel and me.

When the last girl had filed through the door, into the dim interior of the breeding house, Horace shouted, “Marie, we got new ones again. Get down here and help me find ’em rooms!”

I stood a little bit behind Marcel on the threshold, hoping our part was done. I had to breathe shallowly to keep from wincing at the smell that wafted out of the entryway, a mixture of sweat and fear and something else foul.

The guard noticed when I started to back away and motioned at us. “Get in here and help me make sure they all get locked up in a room. Then you can go.”

The small foyer was lit by a couple of oil lamps, sitting on two small tables on either side of the doorway. The unsteady light revealed a run-down interior, with dust gathered in the corners and on the tables. Grime coated the stones beneath our boots. The girls were lined up along a wall to the left of the door, and straight in front of us was a narrow staircase. A painfully thin girl who looked like she was my age slowly made her way down the steps, cupping the swollen mass of her pregnant belly with one hand and holding a lantern in her other. Her cheeks were sunken, making her already large eyes appear huge in her gaunt face.

“Ah, there you are, Marie,” Horace said, motioning for her to come all the way down. “Help me get these new ones situated, will you? I’ve got to hurry and get back upstairs.” A look of hunger crossed his sweaty face.

“We’ve only got four rooms left, if you include the attic,” Marie said, her voice chillingly empty.

Horace looked over the row of girls. “How many of you have already started your monthly bleedings?”

I flinched at the awful question, but slowly five girls raised their hands.

“Not you, eh? You can’t fool me, you know.” Horace stepped in front of one girl who obviously had firm, rounded breasts beneath her tunic but who hadn’t raised her hand. “It’ll be worse for you if you try to hide it from me. We’ll have to make up for lost time, my men and me.” He leered at the girl and she began to visibly shake, her eyes filling with tears.

Slowly, she lifted her hand, and Horace grinned, revealing stained, uneven teeth.