FOUR - Atherton

During the Exiling ceremony, Atherton tries to take advantage of the situation and steal more supplies.

The fourth drumbeat echoed from within the city walls.  Atherton peered out from within the tent.  In the distance, he could see the line of torches already beginning to form at the front gate into the city.  Someone was being exiled to the Barelands.  He turned around towards Sephora.

“Don’t leave this tent, do you understand?”

“What’s noise?”

“I’ll be back soon.”

“No!  Afferty no go!” Sephora whined in response, but Atherton had grabbed his bag and was already gone.

He made it to the wall and began to follow it back towards the break, in the opposite direction from the procession of people.  As always, the entire city took part in the Exiling Ceremony.  Nobody wanted to be left out, so they attended.  Which meant that nobody would be in their homes.  It was the perfect time for another supply run.

Luckily, the number of Exiling Ceremonies had increased lately.  When Atherton couldn’t get the supplies he needed in the morning, he counted on the extra supplies he could get during an Exile to help get him and his siblings through to the next day.  He didn’t know what was causing the increase in crime and punishment, but he was secretly grateful.

Atherton rushed along the wall, desperate to get as much done as he could before the end of the ceremony.  Typically, he had around an hour after the fourth drumbeat, giving him just enough time to sneak in through the break and get something out of one of the houses near the back of the city, close to the Dome.

He made it to the break and squeezed through.  He hurried through the alley and into the nearest house to the back of the city.  He didn’t waste time trying to be quiet; there was nobody here.  He burst through the door, torch in hand.  He waved it across the room to see what he could find.  The dim yellow light shined across the room revealing... not much.  The walls were completely bare, not even a knife hanging or sitting on the table.  In front of the fireplace, a single log rested, seemingly desperate to climb into the hearth and end its life.

No wonder these people are attending the Exiling Ceremony.  They don’t have anything to their name.  They have to do something to make themselves feel like they’re better than someone else; that their lives are worth living.

He didn’t waste another second and ran outside, finding his way up the street and into another house.  There was no food, no fabrics, no tools… Damn.  Maybe this is why we’re having so many more Exiling Ceremonies.  I don’t think I’m the only one struggling to find supplies.

Then something came to him.  Emeric’s house.  He had plenty of meat on the table… more than enough for me to take a little bit more.  Do I have time…? Emeric’s house was a little out of the way, toward the center of the city, but if he hurried, he should be able to make it there and back before the end of the Exiling.

There wasn’t enough time to weigh the options.  He took a deep breath and ran.  Luckily he knew this city better than anyone.  He didn’t need to think, every rock and every torch was a landmark.  If you paid close enough attention, every door had a distinct pattern, the hinges uniquely broken or rusted.

He turned down another alley and skidded to a halt in front of the barrel he had been hiding behind only a few hours earlier.  He had reached his destination.  In the distance, he heard the growing sound of voices and footsteps.  The ceremony was over, or at the very least, certain people had had enough.  They would be heading back to their homes now.  He paused to think only for a second, weighing his options, then stepped inside.

A familiar smell hit Atherton’s nostrils right away.  The meat was still sitting on the table, a large amount, too much for just one man.  That’s more than was in either of the last two houses.  There’s no way Emeric should have this much food.  I’m just making things a little more fair.

He pulled out the knife yet again and began cutting.  He took a thicker piece than he had that morning.  There’s no way he’ll notice.  And if I don’t take it now, I’ll have to come back tomorrow and risk getting caught another time.  It wasn’t worth it.  He finished the cut and reached into his bag for the fabric he used to wrap the meat… but it was still in his tent.  The meat from this morning was still wrapped neatly inside it.  Panic started to set in.  I can’t take the meat without wrapping it.  It won’t be edible by the time I make it back.

He started looking around for something else he could use when he heard voices coming from right outside of the house.  He froze.  They shouldn’t be here… not this far back, not this soon.  He stood perfectly still, listening to make sure he wasn’t imagining things.  No, those are definitely voices.  He shoved the meat into his bag unwrapped.  There was no time to worry about it, and dirty meat was better than no meat at all.

He moved towards the door, but before he reached it, it swung open.  Emeric was home.

Atherton bend down and tried to duck underneath Emeric’s arm, hoping the element of surprise would allow him to make his escape, but for such a large man, Emeric was surprisingly quick.  Before Atherton had cleared the gap, he felt Emeric’s hand squeeze tight on his shoulder.  He tried to wriggle free, but the man held firm.

“Who are you?” Emeric asked.

“Let me go!” He yelled, trying to shake free.  It was no use.

“What are you doing in my house?”

“I got lost coming back from the ceremony,” he said, struggling to break free, shielding his face from Emeric’s view.

“Stop your struggling and look at me, boy.”

Atherton wouldn’t.  Couldn’t.  If I keep moving, he won’t find out who I am and eventually I’ll be able to get free.  I don’t even need my bag or the food at this point… I’d do anything to get out of here.

“Let’s take a look inside your bag, here.”

“Don’t.  Please.”

Emeric shoved Atherton backwards, hard.  He flew deeper into the house, crashing into the table and falling hard to the floor.  Emeric stood in the doorway, completely blocking it.  There wasn’t a chance Atherton would be able to get past.  Not that he could even manage to move after the force of that hit.

Emeric lifted the bag and peered inside.  “Well, well.  Seems I’ve caught myself a thief.  I’m sure King Xanthus will be glad to hear of this.  Two Exiling Ceremonies in one day.  That’s almost unheard of.  Certainly should be good for morale.  Unless, of course, your punishment is death.  But that might be even better!  We haven’t had a good Execution around here in quite some time.”

Through the dark, Atherton could barely make out Emeric’s massive grin.

Not long after, Atherton was being led through the city streets towards the castle.  Emeric held Atherton at arms length in front of him, leading him farther into the city and ever closer to the castle, where his fate awaited him.  As they passed through the streets, people turned to watch, surely wondering who Atherton was and what he had done.  Atherton tried to hide his face from them, but there was nowhere he could look where there weren’t more people.  The crowd coming back from the Exiling Ceremony was too large.  Even heading away from the main gate, the streets were packed with people gossiping about what had happened.

They don’t even know who I am, but if I could hide my face from them, I would.

They came around the final corner before the castle came into sight.  The massive structure loomed ahead, signaling Atherton’s imminent punishment for his actions.  He took a good look at his surroundings.  This area is open enough that if I were able to break away from Emeric, even only for a second, I think I could get away.  He’s fat and slow enough that I think I can outrun him.

Up until this point, he hadn’t given Emeric any reason to assume he would try to break free.  He could feel that the man’s grip wasn’t quite as strong as it had been at the beginning of their journey.  You think you have complete control… But that’s where you’re wrong.

In one quick motion, he pulled his legs off the ground and went limp.  He dropped heavily to the ground, but Emeric’s grip was broken.  He quickly rolled forward, putting distance between himself and his captor.  He came out of the roll, stood up, and ran.  He was still slightly disoriented from his roll and hadn’t gotten a sense of his surroundings but if he ran far enough and fast enough he could lose Emeric in the streets.  One foot in front of the other, he took off with what he thought was extreme speed.  He hadn’t made it three steps when he felt himself lifted into the air by the tattered collar on his shirt.

“Let go of me!” He shouted, squirming.  He felt his clothes tearing in the man’s powerful hand.

“If you try to get away one more time I’ll break your neck in my hands and throw you off the wall.”

That was enough.  He stopped squirming and for the remainder of the journey, he hadn’t tried to escape.  Now he was chained to the wall in a holding cell in the castle dungeons, awaiting his meeting with the King where he would be given his sentence.  I just hope it isn’t death.

His thoughts drifted to Saxon and Sephora, alone in the tent.  He promised them he would return.  Now they would probably never see him again, and without him to help them get food and supplies, they would most likely die in a few days.

A guard opened the door at the top of the stairs and came down.  “I’m going to unchain you and take you to see the King.  If you try anything, there are two more guards in the hall.  They won’t hesitate to kill you on the spot.”

Atherton didn’t resist.

“Follow me,” the guard said.  Atherton did as he was told.

All the way up the stairs and through the rest of the castle, Atherton didn’t fight back.  Finally they came to a stop outside a large, ornate door with two guards standing post.  The guard who had led him here turned to speak to him.

“We’re here.  I’m going to lead you inside, and after that, don’t move.”  He opened the massive wooden door and led Atherton into the room.  As they passed through the doorframe, Atherton turned his head to see what they had just walked through.

One of the two guards standing outside the door, still standing post and without moving, spoke to Atherton.  “He said don’t move.”  Atherton quickly spun back around, his heart pounding.

He looked up and saw King Xanthus sitting in the High Chair.  He couldn’t help but remember the rumors from when he had been young.  Many people, including a lot of his parents’ guests in their tent, spoke of how much they wished they could see the High Chair.  “If only I could look at it, I’d be happy,” they would say.  It didn’t have anything to do with sitting on the chair, or ruling the city, but being able to even glimpse that type of power, even for a second, was completely foreign to them.  All that fuss, but now that Atherton was here, experiencing it firsthand, all he could feel was disgust.  He was living outside the city limits, forced to steal food and supplies to make a living, while the King and his Guard lived here, with space, food, and clothing to spare.

“Kneel,” Xanthus spoke.  Atherton obeyed.  “State your name.”

“Atherton.”

“Do you know why you’re here?”

“I was caught breaking a law.”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.  The Guards haven’t filled me in on all the details.  As I’m sure you’re aware, it’s been a busy day already.”

“I was trespassing.  I was stealing.”

“Do you know the punishment for your crimes?”

Atherton paused.  The answer was “death,” either way you spun it.  There was nothing he could do in this moment that could change that.  But maybe there was something else he could do.  If I don’t have anything else to lose, I’m not going to die without speaking my mind.

“What about your crimes?”

It felt as though the air had been sucked out of the room.  If he thought he knew what quiet sounded like before, he learned in that moment what silence truly meant.  At last, King Xanthus responded.

“What did you say?”

The guard’s fist collided powerfully with the side of Atherton’s head.  His mind went completely blank, his thoughts were foggy.  The skin on his face stung.  The room was spinning.  The guard was just about to strike again when Xanthus interrupted.

“Enough!”

The guard looked confused.  “Sir, he�"”

“I know very well what he did.  It’s treason.”  He paused, thinking.  “Leave us, Thaddeus,” he commanded.

“Sir?”

“I’m not going to ask again.”

Atherton saw a look of scorn pass across Thaddeus’s face before he turned to leave the room.

“Silvan, Vanderford, you as well.”  The other two guards hesitated.  “I think I can handle myself against one small child.  Leave us.”  He spoke with passion and power.  I guess it’s no wonder he’s the King.

The heavy door slammed shut behind Atherton, leaving him alone in the room with King Xanthus VIII.

“Do you have something you’d like to say to me, man to man?  Do you have an issue with the way that I’m leading my city?  Maybe you’d like to attack me.  Go ahead, then.  I promise you, there’s no one else here but you and me.”

I can’t believe this is happening.  I’m not being punished… he’s actually giving me a chance to speak my mind.  “You’re starving your people,” he began.  “There are tons of us in the Outskirts and we’re lucky just to get a single scrap of food to eat some days.  We’re the ones who are putting in the work to gather the food, but we don’t even get to eat it.  Once it passes through the gates, it’s gone.”

“You’re from the Outskirts.”

“Yes.”

“I take it your father was a Hunter?”

“Yes.”

“Where is he now?”

“Dead.”

“I see.  Your mother?”

“The same.  Things aren’t easy for me.  I have two small siblings, and I take care of them myself.  If I didn’t steal food, they wouldn’t survive.  They’re only three and four years old.”  He saw something in Xanthus’s eyes; he wasn’t sure what it was.  Sadness, maybe?  Guilt?  Or something sinister?

“I’m very sorry to hear your story.  I don’t like to hear when my people are suffering.  Do you think that I don’t know that my people suffer every single day?  Do you think I’m not trying to remedy the situation?  I hear a story like yours almost every single day.  There isn’t enough food for my family… I’m not getting enough… why aren’t you doing more… It’s always the same.  You’re the not the first person to raise this argument against me, and you won’t be the last.  Tell me something, why does your situation make it okay for you to commit a crime?”

“It doesn’t.  Nothing excuses my behavior.  I’m just explaining why I did what I did.  And if there were enough food for us in the Outskirts, I wouldn’t have had to break the law in the first place.”

“So it’s my fault that you broke the law?”

“I take full responsibility.  But you are just as guilty as I am.  You sit here in your castle and you sit in your fancy chair and eat as much as you want and you tell us what’s okay for us to do.  Try to live like one of us for a day.  For a week.  I don’t think you’d make it.”

Xanthus seemed to consider Atherton’s argument.  I think I may have actually gotten through to him.  I think�"

“What have you done to bring in a greater supply of food for the city?” Xanthus cut off Atherton’s train of thought.

“If I could go on the Hunt, I would.  But I can’t leave my brother and sister behind for that long.  The better question is… what have you done?  How can you pass judgment on me if you aren’t doing anything to help the situation?”

“If I weren’t sitting here keeping the peace, there wouldn’t be a city.  Every single person would be starving instead of just some of you.  The simple fact is, it doesn’t really matter what you say.  Things are the way that they are, and they’ve been that way for a very long time.  Why change them now?”

“Because they aren’t working.”

“That very well may be.”  It was a complete shock to hear Xanthus admit that things weren’t good.  For the longest time, Atherton believed the rumors, that Xanthus truly didn’t know or care how bad things had gotten.  “Unfortunately, talking about it isn’t going to change anything.  And you did break the law.  I can’t let you go unpunished.”

“I know.”

“It honestly disappoints me to have to waste someone with your potential.  You’re clearly fairly smart for someone your age.  If you had taken a different path, you may have been able to end up on my council.”

Atherton knew better than to say anything.  Is the King actually giving me a compliment?  At the same time as he’s scolding me for breaking the law?

“Despite what you may think, things aren’t going perfectly inside the city as well.  There’s a reason people are growing more desperate outside the city walls, and it’s because people are growing more desperate inside the city as well.  Yes, we have more space, and more shelter, but we don’t get much more food than you do.  And we’re running out of supplies.  I don’t know how long they were meant to last, but it isn’t going to be very much longer.  This city was not meant for as many people as we have here.”

Atherton didn’t know what to say, so chose to say nothing.

“I suppose you already know what comes next,” Xanthus said.  “You get to choose what happens to you.  I’m not completely unfair in my judgment.  Will it be Exile, or death?”

“My brother and sister.  They won’t last another two days without me.  We have no friends in the Outskirts, no one to take them in.  They’re going to die.  And that will be on you.”

Xanthus let out a long sigh.  Atherton could feel his heart beating in his throat.  I might have overstepped.  I might have just doomed myself and my brother and sister.

After what felt like an eternity, Xanthus opened his mouth to speak.  “I’ll take them.  I’ll raise them as my own.”  Atherton’s eyes opened wide.  “I guess I’m not as heartless as you thought.  Now choose�"exile, or death?”