17-Cost
"Where did you learn to hunt?"
He sounded as if he was interrogating me. He had the air of a soldier who had seen real combat but I couldn’t bring myself to show him even the smallest amount of respect.
"When you have nobody to spoil you, life teaches you a few things."
I answered with an emotionless voice. He laughed, but the mood shifted instantly.
"I heard you had a slave. Where is she?"
The sudden seriousness in his tone made it clear this was a test. I clicked my tongue, choosing my words carefully.
"She got sick. When I learned the cost of her treatment, I realized it was time to cut my losses and let her go."
He placed his hands on his belt, a predator sizing up its prey. I guess if I was really 16 years old I would have felt small in front of him but compared to my battle experience and rank, he was nothing but a baby who learned to walk yesterday.
"A smart choice. If you want—" He nodded toward the barracks. "We can get you a new one. We have some foxes or cats if you’re into that sort of thing. Goats are fine too, but they take a lot of time to train if you know what I mean."
My poker face held firm; I had my drill sergeant to thank for that.
"Thanks, but I really don’t need one right now. I don’t have the time to teach an animal how to behave."
I nearly gagged at my own words. He pushed the soldiers sitting nearby aside and took a seat himself.
"So, you’re looking to join us?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good reaction. You’re in."
That was surprisingly easy—almost too easy. If something is too easy to be true, it is usually not that easy. His body language made me anxious like I was facing a snake poised to strike.
"But first, I have to see you at work. Let’s see if you’re made of the right material. Do you understand what I mean?"
My stomach churned. He pointed toward the barrack he had just exited.
"Bring the blue-headed beastkin in there."
He tossed me the keys. I entered, and the space felt even smaller than I’d expected. The ground was just cold, hard rock, and several poles were nailed into place, with beastkin chained to them like animals. What little air entered from the small windows was heavy with the scent of sweat and urine. I searched for the blue-headed one—a rabbit type. Her clothes were torn, and bruises marred her body. As I approached, she started to cry and shake. I quickly unlocked her and grabbed her arm, practically dragging her out as other beastkin screamed and cursed me. I brought her before the Captain, who held a whip in his hands.
"Good. Do you know what she did?"
"No."
"She tried to steal food. We already gave them food, but she tried to take more. Can you imagine that?"
Her trembling intensified.
"We were just hungry! Please, please no!"
"Still making excuses instead of feeling sorry for her crime. Looks like my education didn’t work."
He threw me the whip. I caught it.
"Fifty strikes."
Two soldiers stepped forward to bind her as she begged.
"It’s her punishment. Let’s see if you have what it takes for the job—fifty heavy strikes."
He emphasized, "heavy." I looked at her frail body.
"She’ll die, sir."
"If she can’t take the punishment, she shouldn’t have committed the crime. Now, get to work."
I took a deep breath. I had known this would require something like this. But that didn’t make it easy.
"You promised that if I didn’t resist, I wouldn’t be punished!"
It took every ounce of willpower not to lash out at the man behind me. The girl screamed and shouted, and I leaned closer, placing my boot on her back.
"Grit your teeth, and you will be saved."
I whispered. She looked back at me, doubt clouding her eyes. The whip cracked, and her screams echoed in the air. My mind dulled as I lost track of time. To lessen the impact of what I did, I buried my consciousness deep into my mind.
"Fifty. Pretty good. You really know how to put strength into those arms."
The Captain commented, slapping my arms approvingly. The girl was unresponsive, but I could still hear her shallow breathing. I looked at him, thinking how easy it would be to tear his throat open with the whip I held in my hands.
"Don’t make that face. You’ll get used to it."
He turned to leave, and I looked back at the girl.
"What do we do with the body, sir?"
I wanted to throw up but forced myself to play it cool.
"Huh? Just leave it here."
"I think that would be a bad idea, sir. Blood attracts beasts, and corpses bring disease. If we’re here with it, it could bring us bad luck."
He studied me for a minute.
"You’re the hunter who caught all those animals, so I suppose you know best. Take the body and dump it in the forest. After that, come to me so I can formally register you in the force."
I grabbed the girl and left. I was sure I wasn’t being followed, and after a while, I managed to reach the hideout. It was different from the previous one. After talking with Ama last night, I learned about hideouts. Technically, they weren’t actual spaces; they were openings created with magical items. When an opening appeared (duh) in the sewers, they placed the items there. Their belongings came from a bag of holding—a magical bag that could hold a bunch of items while weighing nothing. Convenient.
"What is—"
Bear and Ama were there.
"I joined them, but I needed to prove my worth. She’s still breathing but has lost too much blood."
Bear helped me and Ama cleared the bed.
"Lay her down here."
Ama took her from my arms.
"Ursara, I need warm water and clean bandages. Come on, fast! Good, you’re applying pressure to the wounds. Shit, they’re large. I can cast recovery spells, but they won’t work quickly enough."
She ordered.
"We need to stop the bleeding first. Do you have a needle and thread?"
I said, applying pressure to her wounds. Her back was torn apart. Ama quickly searched through the room and brought the items to me.
"You know how to stitch wounds?"
She asked. I wasn’t a master at it but as resources got sparse and medics died one by one, I had to learn some skills.
"Enough to keep her from bleeding out. After that, it depends on her tenacity and your recovery spells. First, can you heat up the needle with your fire?"
Though her eyes reflected suspicion, she complied. Good. I didn’t have the time to explain how bacteria and sterilization worked. As I began to work, Bunny and Bear returned.
"Good timing. Come, hold her down. Make sure she doesn’t thrash around; I’m not that skilled in this. She’s unresponsive, but I doubt it will stay that way when I stab her."
Despite their hesitation, they obeyed. Thankfully, she was drained and didn’t move much. I managed to stitch the larger wounds while Ama chanted behind me. I wasn’t sure what she was saying; I was too focused on my task. Occasionally, a warm, kind, red hue enveloped her. We cleaned her wounds, and I stepped outside to vomit. My hands shook.
"Disgusting."