The Fallen Star

Chapter 8: The Army's Cook

  The woman dumped a glop of gruel onto the soldier’s plate. He was probably thirty, ten years younger than her. That didn’t stop him, however. It never stopped any of them.

   “Hey baby, lookin’ fine. Where are you from?” he said as he bit his lip.

   The woman ignored his comment. “Is that all sir?”

   “My, aren’t we a bit passive today?”

   “I asked if that was all sir.”

   “I guess. See you around, honey.”

   She grimaced. She got this treatment every day. There weren’t many women in the camp, and they sought her like hounds. She was still youthful and beautiful at the age of seventeen, and that was all they needed.

   It was miserable, as she was stationed in Heshibald Crune. It had been conquered around a year and a half earlier by Emperor Harnkelt. She had lived there the last eighteen years of her life, before being taken to be an army cook for the Emperor’s armies.

   Now she just put up with women-hungry men and cooking. Every day, she thought of escaping, but the camp was under relatively tight guard, making it foolish.

   So she finished her shift and walked out into the brisk morning. She could still see her husband and son. She didn’t know where either of them was, but she would find them. 

   These thoughts circulated in her mind as she walked back to the women's quarters. Naturally, they were frequently visited by the soldiers, but usually, nothing happened. Most of the women there were not very physically attractive or were just old. However, most of the young ones had fallen victim to the men’s abhorrent pleasures.

   Upon entering, she surveyed the situation. Three women walked around, fixing beds and relaxing. Books were a rare occurrence in the encampment, but the woman had managed to sneak in her favorite: Legends of Ebeldeth. 

   The book spoke of common myths like Supreme Sadris, the beginning of the four kingdoms. What the book left out, she knew, was mention of the Kel’ga’rae stones. Or the Fallen Stars.

   For probably the seventh time, she read the book, becoming immersed in its story. She was so focused, still, that when Berta–one of her fellow cooks–shook her, it was near sundown.

   “Bee! Bee! They’ve taken poor Arelie!”

   Bee was not the woman’s name, but she had asked them to call her it.

   So Bee tossed her book aside. “Who has!?”

   “The men,” Berta said, panicking.

   Immediately, Bee was up and going toward the kitchens. She stormed in, grabbed a knife, and bolted out.

   “Where are they?” she demanded.

   “I don’t know. I think near the barracks,” Berta said.

   Bee hunched down and clung to the shadows. She scampered toward the soldier’s barracks with vengeance on her mind. And a little revenge.

   She had suffered under them for over a year; lost everything to them. Now, they were taking advantage of a poor girl who had no one to protect her. 

   Or so they thought.

   She was nearly there, and it wasn’t going to be pretty. Soon she could hear the boisterous laughter of men and the cries of a young girl.

   “Please! Please! Don’t do this!” the terrified girl screamed.

   “Ah, we won’t hurt you, darling,” a man said with a laugh.

   “What should we do first?” another man said.

   But they would be doing nothing. Bee rounded the corner and came up behind them like a wraith. Five men stood around Arelie with knives and bad intentions. 

   With a yell, the woman cut down three of them before they knew what was happening. Then the last two realized they were being attacked and joined forces against her. Unfortunately for them, however, years of training in her young years had turned her into a formidable force. 

   She blocked a jab from one of them and dodged a cut from the other. In a blur, she stabbed one in the gut and turned on the last one.

   “How’d a pretty babe like you learn to fight like that?” he asked, but his voice trembled.

   She smiled. “Can’t say.”

   Then she lunged forward and met his rondel dagger. He quickly pushed her back and stabbed at her, exposing himself. Bee quickly parried and grappled him, tripping him by the leg and sending him flat on his back. Then she stabbed him straight through the heart.

   She stood there, surveying the carnage. It had been nineteen years since she had killed, but she still had the skill–even if she didn’t want it.

   Suddenly, she noticed Arelie sitting there with a look of shock on her face. “Wh-who–who are you?”

  Bee took a step forward. “Arelie, I am still Bee, I just… I needed to protect you.”

   “No! You are a monster!”

   “You’re right, I am.”

   The girl’s expression softened at the words. “I didn’t know that you knew how to do that.”

   “You don’t know much about me, but I am still me,” Bee sighed. “I am going to leave, Arelie. You can come with me–I know you have nobody here. Or, you can stay. But I can protect you out there, and I can take you to your home in Githhaven.”

   “I don’t know, I would be searched for.”

   Bee snorted. “No offense, but they would not waste resources for people like us. To those Bloodied, we are just objects.”

   The girl sat there for what seemed like a while. Then she spoke. “Look, I will come with you, but I don’t want to go home.”

   The older woman was taken aback. “Whatever for?”

   “My parents treated me terribly. I want to go with you everywhere you go.”

   “I would be honored,” Bee said solemnly. “Now pack quickly.”

   Soon, the two women were off, heading to Githhaven without looking back.