EIGHT - Esmarine

Esmarine's point of view during Atherton's exiling ceremony, and what she does afterwards

Esmarine forced her way through the crowd.  Atherton was far ahead of her, being led by Vanderford towards the front of the city.  The fourth beat signaled to her exactly what was going to happen… Atherton was going to be exiled.  She had to speak to him before that happened.  She needed to tell him that she would take care of Saxon and Sephora.  If she didn’t do it now, she would never get another chance, and he would die without knowing whether his siblings would make it.

She fought against the crowd, trying to break through the wall of people that moved so slowly after Vanderford and Atherton.  You dummy, I told you I could get you everything you needed… Why did you go back into the city?  Everyone was awake, of course you were going to get yourself caught.

As the crowd rounded sharp corners, people along the edges would get shoved into alleyways and left behind, unable to rejoin the chaos.  Esmarine took care to stay in the middle of the street so as not to be forced out and trapped somewhere.  She watched as barrels of oil were nearly overturned, but somehow the crowd was able to keep them from spilling.  Not only were they already running low on oil, but the spillage might cause the city to catch on fire.

Esmarine’s small size gave her an advantage in the flow of people.  She squeezed through the larger bodied, slower people, ducking under the flabby, hairy arm of a�"woman?   I don’t know where you’re getting your food from.  Nobody should be as big as you.  Just as she completed the thought, she had to dodge a slow moving man pushing a cart of rocks.  If I can just make it through a few more people, I should be able to catch up with Atherton.  I’ve caught up to the Exiled before, and I can do it now.

She had never felt good about watching the Ceremonies, but she had almost always tried her very hardest to see them up close.  If you didn’t get to see the person for yourself, how could you trust that anything anyone told you was the truth?  After her very first Exiling Ceremony, she heard a rumor afterwards that the man had tried to stab three Xantomians on his way out of the city.  Having been there herself, she knew that it wasn’t true.  From then on she vowed to watch the Ceremonies to stay away from the lies.

Finally, there was a break in the crowd and for a fleeting moment she caught a glimpse of Vanderford with a spear pointed at Atherton’s back.

“Atherton!” she cried out.  Her voice was swallowed in the rabble of the angry Xantomians, in the loud shuffling of their feet and the echoes of their voices.  The opening closed in front of her and when the crowd split again, Atherton was gone.

This isn’t going to work… luckily I know another way!  She turned and tore down an abandoned alleyway.  If she was quick, she should be able to come out just ahead of the pack.  She rushed forward, careful not to trip on anything in the darkness.

Somehow, even after living here their entire lives, the citizens of Xantom didn’t know the layout of the alleys between streets.  They stuck to the main roads and during Exiling Ceremonies would have to miss out on seeing the events up close.

Ahead, the dull light of street torches pierced the darkness.  She couldn’t see any people, meaning that the crowd hadn’t caught up to her yet.  I made it… this couldn’t have been more perfect!  She broke free of the alley and found herself in an open street.  She could hear the crowd coming from around the next street corner, and then they appeared, angry, loud, and fast.  Most of the people in the front were walking backwards, spewing insults and throwing rocks.  If she could break through just these few people, she would find Atherton.

She carefully skipped forward, looking for an opening.  The crowd still moved fluidly towards her and she backed up slowly, keeping pace.  The wall wasn’t breaking.  I have to try a different tactic.  She tried to pry a muscular arm out of her way but failed.  She looked for the weakest person in the line and headed there.  She pushed his arm and he pulled it away, revealing an open space.  She saw the opportunity and dove through.

And there he was.  Atherton looked up and saw her.  Their eyes locked for only a second before a large rock flew from behind him and slammed violently into his head.

“No!” She yelled.  But he was face-down on the ground, struggling to move.  Almost immediately, Vanderford pulled him to his feet and pushed him forward.  He was holding his head in agony, clearly disoriented; his face bleeding and raw.  She reached out and grabbed his wrist.  He looked up and looked into her eyes.

“I’m going to rescue Saxon and Sephora.  They’re going to be safe.  And after the Ceremony, go to our spot and I’ll meet you there!  I can keep you safe!”

And he was gone, swept up in the crowd.  Did he even hear me?  He didn’t answer me or respond in any way… is it possible he didn’t understand?  I can’t worry about that now… I have to get to the Outskirts.  Who knows how long they’ve been waiting for him to get back?

She turned and ran in the opposite direction, away from the crowd, away from Atherton, and towards the break in the wall that led to the Outskirts.  She burst through the gap, skidded slightly in the dirt, then found her footing and sprinted towards Atherton’s tent.  Hopefully the children hadn’t decided it was a good idea to go outside.  With any luck they’re just sleeping peacefully and I’ll be able to rescue them without them ever knowing they were alone.

She could see the tent ahead of her.  Two torches illuminated it in the distance.  Then she stopped dead.  Why are there torches outside Atherton’s tent?  There were two men outside the tent.  Without thinking, she set off at a hard sprint.  Her mind was completely blank, and the next thing she knew she was on top of one of the men.  He was on the ground; in the shock of being attacked by a small girl, he let go of his torch, which went careening through the air and slamming into the ground a few feet from them.  Esmarine was screaming, pounding her fists, trying anything she could think of to keep the men from their task.

“Stop!  Let them go, they didn’t do anything!”

The second guard grabbed her arms and pulled her off the first guard.  She tried to break free of the man’s grip but he was too strong.  Saxon and Sephora were still inside, she could hear Saxon crying.  I have to get to them!

“Stop!  They’re just innocent children!  They haven’t done anything wrong!”  She was crying.  When did that start?

“We have orders from the King himself.  These children are to be taken into custody inside the castle,” the guard said, brushing himself off and getting to his feet.  “And you need to learn a thing or two about attacking the King’s Guard.”

These are the King’s Guard?  What are they doing here?  How did they even know where Atherton lived?  She held in her emotions and glared at the man.  “What’s going to happen to them?”

“The King has decided to take care of them himself,” The second guard said.  The first guard was checking his nose to see if it was bleeding.

“Then they’ll be dead in a week,” she found herself saying.

“How dare you!” The first guard slapped her across the face.  She tasted blood and assumed it must be the guard’s.  I hope it keeps on bleeding forever until you die.

“Zultan!  What are you thinking?  You can’t hit the child,” The second guard said.  “Don’t you know who this is?”

“No.  Should I?”

“This is Silvan’s daughter.”

“Yeah.  My dad is one of the King’s Guard, too.  And he’s going to hurt you for hitting me.  And if you hurt Saxon or Sephora, he’s going to hurt you even more.”

Zultan knelt down and looked her in the eyes.  “No, he isn’t.  If Silvan is going to do anything, it’s going to be to teach his daughter some respect.”

Esmarine spat in his face.  He reared back, furious.  He pulled his hand back to strike her again, but the second guard stepped between them.

“I won’t allow you to hit her again.”

“The girl attacked me!  Then insulted the King and spat in my face!”

“Then we can explain to the King how a small girl got the better of you.”  That seemed to have an effect on Zultan.  “She needs to be punished, but it’s not your place.  We will leave that to her father.”

“Like her father even understands the proper way to treat someone… he’s the most uncultured piece of ditchwater I’ve ever met.  I should punish her myself.”

“I will cut off anything you attempt to touch her with,” the second guard said.

The two men stared each other down.  Esmarine watched, horrified.  This could end very badly for me.  Finally, Zultan took a breath and looked down, defeated.  “Fine, Castiel.  You win.  We’ll take her to her father.”

Castiel took his hand away from his sword.  When did he go for that?  He’s a lot faster than he looks.

“You can bring the girl back to the castle yourself,” Zultan said.  “I don’t want to be anywhere near her.  I’ll handle the babies.”  Zultan took Saxon and Sephora, one in each arm, and headed back towards the city.

“Thank you,” Esmarine said as soon as he was out of earshot.

“Don’t thank me.  There are rules you have to follow as a King’s Guard.  And you have yet to face your father.”

“Him I can handle.”

She could see Castiel try to hold back a smile.  “Don’t be too plucky,” he said finally.  “Your father isn’t as much of a pushover as you think.  I’ve seen him do things that… suffice to say your punishment may not be light.  Come on.”

Castiel headed back towards the city.  She had no choice but to follow.  She looked off into the darkness of the Barelands.  I’m so sorry, Ath… I failed you.