• Mature • Thou Shalt not Betray, Thou Shalt be Just

[Hart]

"Speaking in Rakahi"
"Speaking in Common"

12th of Saun, 717

Hart had not killed the king. He had been told to kill the king or else, and he hadn't killed him, how could he, and now he didn't know what to do.

Or else, he just kept thinking. Or else.

---

They found him as he was wandering the streets, not long after the king's open counsel. It had taken them no more than half a break, not near long enough for Hart to come to terms with what was going on. A man appeared on either side of him, and they each took one arm and practically lifted him from the ground. They carried him to a nearby alley. Hart didn't fight them, what could he do, and he didn't resist.

The alley was secluded and as they brought him in two more men fell into place behind him, blocking the way out. The other side of the alley was a dead end.

Dead end, Hart thought, and then he'd been dropped by the men and he fell to his knees and a staff cracked down upon the curve of his back, making him cry out.

"One," a viscious voice said, Pierce, and Hart huddled down and covered his head at the sudden attack. The staff cracked down again. "Two."

"Thou shalt not Betray," the men standing by recited with each whirling crack.

"Three."

"Four." On the fourth, harder than the rest, Hart bit back a shout.

"Thou shalt not Betray," the men said. Crack.

"Thou shalt not Betray." Crack.

"Thou shalt not Betray." Crack.

[Hart]

"Speaking in Rakahi"
"Speaking in Common"

7 hours later

"Are you aware yet how grandly you've fucked up?" someone was saying, and Hart looked up at the sliver of light. After the beating in the alleyway he'd been dragged into a nearby building, down through some sort of grate through a tunnel, and taken immortals know where.

Now he was in a little room around the size of a small closet with a slot on the door for someone to talk through. It was very dark. He wasn't sure how long he'd been here. He was hungry, thirsty, but it hadn't been long enough that his back had stopped hurting. He was curled in the corner, his face resting on his knees, and was trying to keep himself together.

"How grandly have you fucked up?" the voice asked, and Hart shook his head.

"Let me go," he said.

"Wrong," the voice answered, and the slot closed but not before Hart heard the man tell someone else, "Seven more hours in the dark."

---

13th of Saun

Hart had given up on asking for food and water. He didn't know how long he'd been in here, but he thought as long as a day. He had told them the wrong answer three times now, though the last two times he had tried very hard to think what answer they might want. They had given him a bucket halfway through as a means of using the bathroom.

He just wanted to go home.

"I won't tell anyone, I don't know anything, just let me go," he said to the door, but no one was listening.

Besides the one who came to ask him the question, a group of them came to taunt him around what he guessed was the start of each break. There was a ritual they performed. Without warning they would begin to beat and rattle the door, sometimes thunderously loud. "Shalt not Betray," they repeated, a litany of voices that varied in number though they always intoned the words exactly seven times. Other than that there was little variation in their chanting, except in tone of voice; sometimes they sounded angry and sometimes they droned as if bored. Other times they were solemn.

Their scolding came like clockwork and using it Hart had begun to count off the breaks, one, two, three, four, but it was bad for sleeping or getting any rest. Any time he dozed off it seemed he would awaken to their voices and thunder.

"Just let me out," he would tell them, but if they heard they didn't listen and once they had finished their mantra they were gone.

And he was left by himself again for another hour in the dark.

[Hart]

"Speaking in Rakahi"
"Speaking in Common"

14th of Saun

"How grandly have you fucked up?" the voice asked, and it was Pierce this time, and Hart said, just wanting out, "I fucked up bad, okay?"

"Bad?" Pierce asked, and he sounded as angry as always but at the same time he was laughing. "Bad?"

The door wrenched open, casting Hart into sudden bright light, and he flinched back covering his eyes. "Up," Pierce said, and when Hart stayed down the man grabbed him by the neck and lifted him by his throat, pushing him back against the wall. Pierce was strong and Hart wasn't, and he couldn't breathe. He clawed at the other's grip but the fingers only squeezed tighter, tighter until Hart saw black. Eventually his own hands grew clumsy and fell away, useless, and only then did Pierce let go.

Hart tumbled to the ground, dots flashing over his eyes, and the man grabbed him by the back of the shirt and began to haul and drag him out of the little room.

"Please," Hart choked, but the other man didn't listen.

He was brought down a hallway to another door and tossed inside. In the new room Hart curled into a ball on the floor, already wincing back from whatever blow was coming, but there was none. Instead something jumped on him, snuffling at his face, and whatever it was was pulled back.

He uncurled and looked over towards Pierce, who was holding a dog in his arms while she wiggled and yipped and tried to get free.

"Jack?" Hart asked, and the little brown dog wiggled harder, apparently in delight.

Hart hadn't seen Jack in more than a season. Last he'd seen her was at Tristan's house, all the way back in Oakleigh. Then she had gone, and he had thought she had run away.

"We have agents in his house, you idiot," Pierce said, and grabbed Jack by the scruff like a puppy, holding her up for Hart to see. "That's how grandly you've fucked up."

Then the knife that had been at his belt was suddenly in his hand, and before Hart could move he had pressed it to Jack's throat, and he dropped her, bleeding, to the floor.

"No," Hart said, but it was too late.

For a moment he could do nothing. Tears sprang to his eyes. Then he scrambled forward, reaching out for Jack, but Pierce kicked him back, planting a foot on his shoulder and shoving, and pointed at him with the bloodied knife.

"Tristan," Pierce said. "Atolini. Mistral and Maxos. Lianne. Brandon. Hannah. Sintih. Argun. Thetfretr. Aukey." He stopped. "Need I list more? How many people staff his house? Ten? Twenty? The guards and gardeners and cooks and maids." Another pause. "And nursemaids."

"There's no way," Hart whispered. He was shaking his head. He could hardly see through his tears and anger and defeat. "He's too well protected."

"Your bitch dog was there," Pierce said. "And then she wasn't." He nudged Jack's limp form with his boot and Hart spat out, "Don't touch her!" Then he put a hand to his mouth and let out a sob, looking at the little dog where she had fallen, now lying so still.

"You will kill the king," Pierce said, stepping closer. He wiped his boot against Hart's knee. "If you don't you die last."

"I won't," Hart said. Then whatever anger was there crumpled and the tears fell from his face and he begged. "I can't."

"Seven more hours," Pierce barked, and two men appeared in the doorway and grabbed Hart again by each arm, wrestling him up from the floor. They picked him up and dumped him in the little room in the dark, kicking him back when he tried to get out, and locked the door tight.

Darkness.

"I can't," Hart said again.

---

7 hours later

Now the question became an order, "You will kill the king," and whenever it came Hart didn't respond. The men, when they rattled the door, chanted, "Shalt be Just. Shalt be Just," and Hart tried to tune them out but there was nowhere to go except into his own thoughts, and he no longer wanted a part of those either. Once a day they emptied the bucket and gave him the bare minimum of water and food. Other than that, he was left alone.

Trials passed in the dark.

---

19th of Saun

Sometime later he was taken from the cell and for a heart-turning moment he thought they had captured someone else and he would have to watch them die. But he wasn't taken to the room where Jack had been killed.

Instead he was given a blindfold and delivered through the house and the tunnel system, back onto the street. "Help me!" he screamed once he was out but if anyone heard they didn't come. His shout earned him a punch to the gut and he shut his mouth and tried to breathe.

He thought he must be in an alley again, though he didn't know if it was the same one as before. He was pushed down to his knees and he immediately folded down and protected his head, knowing what was coming next.

"Thou shalt be Just," they said. Crack!

"Thou shalt be Just." Crack!

"Thou shalt be Just." Crack!

If anything the blindfold made his punishment worse.

He hung limp between them when they picked him up again, and didn't move as they bundled him into a carriage. He didn't bother trying to count the turns or keep track of where he was; there was no way of knowing.

Eventually they must have passed out of the city, because the sound of people faded away into quiet and he could smell the trees.

[Hart]

"Speaking in Rakahi"
"Speaking in Common"

20th of Saun

The new building they brought him to was a farm, he thought, but he wasn't sure. The blindfold stopped him from seeing but he could still hear and what he heard was silence, save for the rustling of grass and the sound of the birds. He got the impression that no one was around for miles.

He was brought around the side of a house and placed in some sort of small outdoor enclosure. When the door was locked and he could finally remove his blindfold, he saw it was a cage of sorts. A pen. The pen was five feet by four, with enough room to stand. It had a metal roof and floor and a gridwork of bars for walls. Once more he was given a bucket and this time a second bucket with water.

Then he was left there, out in the sun.

---

They didn't bother rattling the door anymore and Hart told the time by the position of the suns or stars. He soon found that time grew increasingly harder to tell as it got hotter and hotter and harder to think. The Saun heat radiated down, and while he was in shade for most of the day the metal beneath him still grew very hot. He ended up having to stand all day without rest, bouncing from foot to foot to keep them from burning.

The first two nights were a respite, the temperature dropping ten to twenty degrees. At least he could sleep.

The second day it rained in the morning, though that hardly helped. At least he had plenty of water.

The third day was hell.

On the third day the suns grew so hot that Pierce came out and told him, "107 degrees."

Hart was panting where he stood, leaning against the bars to keep himself up, his shirt removed and pant legs rucked up as far as they could go. Sweat dotted the metal under him and wet his hair, and he was so tired and thirsty and confused by the sweltering heat that he no longer switched from foot to foot, only stood on the balls of his feet and let them hurt. He was flushed pink all over his body like he had a sunburn, though at no point had he been out in the direct sun.

His head pounded and there was little he could think about except the heat. He was so distracted that when he went for the bucket of water he accidentally kicked it over and spilled it all over the floor of the pen. The metal hissed upon the water's touch, and Hart's knees gave out.

He hit the ground and blinked, shuddering and twitching and shaking. Someone, a female voice, called out in alarm. Then it was black.

---

22nd of Saun

He woke just as confused as before and he still felt unbearably hot all over, though he was no longer outside. Instead he lay in a bathtub full of cool water. They hadn't bothered removing his clothes.

Someone held out a mug and he drank. They refilled it and he drank again. And again. And again until he felt he could drink no more. Then he closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

When he woke again he was still in the bathtub though it had been drained, and someone was bringing new water in. This time, he recognized the person as Hook.

"My head hurts," Hart rasped, and she looked over at him before handing him a compress that was cool to the touch. He put it on his forehead and laid back, still too tired to do anything else. No one else was around and despite the state he was in he knew that this was his best chance of escape; the bathroom door stood open, unguarded. He would only need to get past Hook. But he felt drained of all energy and his head pounded to the beat of his heart. The room spun when he moved. He felt as if the heat of the twin suns had sapped him of all his strength and most of his life.

Later Hook brought him something to eat and watched over him when the men came and pulled him out of the tub and carried him to a bed. He lay still, not covered because he was still too hot, and could barely keep his eyes open.

He must have fallen asleep because when he woke it was dark and Hook was murmuring a quiet song.

---

33rd of Saun

It took eleven days of rest to recover from the heat sickness, and even then he sometimes still felt dizzy when he stood. Pierce, after inspecting first the flush of his face and then the yellowing bruises on his back, said, "He stays indoors before the 39th."

Hart dreaded to ask but when Pierce was gone he turned to Hook. "What's on the 39th?"

She looked at him with an unreadable expression, but at least she didn't punish him for his question like the men would have. "It's the day you will kill the king," she said carefully.

After that Hart had to sit down and he put his head between his legs so he wouldn't faint.

Or else, was his only thought.

[Pash Raj'oriq]

Thread Rewards

Hart

Skill Knowledge:
➳ Endurance: Enduring Saun's heat
➳ Endurance: Enduring punishment with a staff
➳ Medicine: Healing time for extensive bruising
➳ Medicine: Healing time for heat sickness
➳ Medicine: How to treat heat sickness
➳ Medicine: Drink lots of water when outside in Saun

Other Knowledge:
➳ The Alliance: May have an agent in Tristan's house in Oakleigh
➳ The Alliance: Will kill Hart if he doesn't succeed in killing the king
➳ Jack: Is dead

Loot: -1 dog (please don’t ever make me write that again)
Injuries: I’d say that recovering from the beating would take at least another ten trials or so, not to mention there are lasting mental repercussions.
Fame: N/A
Devotion: N/A

Points: 10
These points cannot be used for magic.

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Comments:
I’ve only interacted with Hart in a FB, so this thread made me super sad. Poor Jack. Poor Hart. What a burden. Don’t do it, man! I’m glad your back somewhere safe, but I guess not really. Hang in there, please. This is clearly a serious plot and I'm somewhat on the edge of my seat over it all now.

My only note is that in Saun, I don’t think there is a night anywhere in Idalos. The suns never set so there would be no stars to tell time with (other than the suns, obviously).

If you see anything I’ve missed or have a question, please feel free to drop me a PM!

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