The Song of Gaál - Six

*** Warning ***

Sensitive situations

Violence; Nudity;

Hard R Rating

Please do not read if you are easily disturbed.

(All characters, places and events reside solely in my imagination.)

The Song of Gaál

…....... Six ….......

Levente and Malika Tolvaj rode out from Castle Sotete on a day when the clouds fought with the sun to hide its rays from the world. Fog surrounded the hilltops and the air smelled of rain. 

Cassava watched with Kisertet, Jaszef and Ursula as the Master and Mistress disappeared from sight, around the curve and down the hill. His mind spun with thoughts of running into the forest and never turning back. He idly rubbed his wrist that was red and sore from Malika's hard grip while thoughts of how he would survive in the wilderness churned and churned and churned. He never realised his rubbing worsened the redness and brought flecks of blood to the surface of his skin.

“Do not think of it,” he heard from behind. Cassava turned his head quickly, dropping his arms to his side. He looked up into Kisertet's face. Briefly studying Kisertet, he could not discern any emotion in the sharply cut face. Cassava turned to go back into the castle. A hand on his shoulder stopped him.

   

“Cassava.” Cassava turned to peer up at the man again. “Go to the stable and care for the horse.“ Kisertet's midnight eyes bore into Cassava's, acutely forbidding him to leave the grounds. Cassava nodded and proceeded to follow Jaszef to the stable.

With Mistress gone from the castle, Cassava found a new freedom. Although Kisertet forbade him to leave the grounds, Cassava worked in the stable from dawn until midday. He ate his meals in the kitchen. He cared for the garden in the afternoon. Beata would come to the garden and weed the plants silently beside Cassava. She never spoke to him nor he to her. Beata was a good, obedient girl and he was a wicked boy, so Cassava thought it was best this way. When their eyes met, Beata turned away quickly, her face bright red. Cassava dropped his glance to hide his embarrassment and continued the task at hand.

  

He watched the interactions between Jaszef and Malek, the stableboy. Jaszef would toss the shovel to Malek, who would snatch it from the air, grinning broadly at the stablemaster. Jaszef picked up forkfuls of hay and dumped the mass onto a nonobservant Malek's head, turning to run when Malek tore after him, laughing all the while. Cassava watched from the side with stolen glances, immediately changing his position if either looked at him. Jaszef and Malek made it a show to tell each other that Cassava could not perform the hard work, knowing well that he could. They tried to include Cassava in their teasing play, however, Cassava remained stoic and silent while he cleaned the stall, filled the water trough and broke the bales.

While Cassava's days were spent in the company of the other castle workers, the times he sat to eat with them became the most anticipated, and most dreaded, times of the day. He kept his head lowered, slowly eating the meal, listening to the chatter and casual banter. He could always feel their eyes on him and knew if he looked up he would see pity there. His stomach knotted at the thought of being pitied, causing him to push the meal around the plate with no appetite. Kisertet rarely joined their table, but would venture to the kitchen and rummage in the pantry for honey and dried apples before disappearing to his rooms at the top of the castle.

  

One evening, Cassava was placing items into the larder when Kisertet arrived. Kisertet did not look at Cassava but headed straight to the tall blonde servant, Ursula. Cassava slid aside and watched Kisertet look Ursula up and down, a frown held on his face. Following Kisertet's gaze, Cassava also saw that Ursula, usually bone thin, had an enormous amount of weight to her. He remembered the skinny hunting dog, how large it became almost overnight, and then there were puppies. He squinted his eyes and moved away when Kisertet took Urusla's arm and led her from the room. Cassava finished cleaning the empty kitchen and doused the lights.

Cassava continued to sleep in his small room in the cellar. He woke one night from a fitful sleep, sticky from sweat that the damp room would not allow to evaporate. Kicking off the quilt, he rolled to his side and trailed his eyes around the room. Seeing nothing in the dark, he decided to go outside to clear his mind and clean his body.

Frogs and insects greeted him when he stepped out from kitchen to garden. The moon was high and full in the sky, illuminating the dew covered grass. He cringed slightly when his toes squished against something in the yard, apologizing silently to the slug he believed he crushed. He moved along the garden and down the hill toward the stable. All was silent but for the songs of the same frogs and insects that greeted him to the yard. He slipped down the side of the yard and slowly opened the stable door, peering inside. He heard a nicker and wuffle in the quiet, the horse acknowledging Cassava's presence.

   

“Shhh, beastie.” Cassava whispered as he stepped to the stall. He reached over the rail and set his hand to the horse's nose. He stroked the nose from the tip to as far as he could reach. “You are a fine, fine horse.” he whispered. The horse shook its head and moved away, deeper into the stall to nap. Cassava turned and slid down the wood planks, sitting with his hands over his knees. He looked around the small, dark stable and glanced up at the ceiling, knowing that Jaszef and Malek slept above. After listening for several minutes, he relaxed back and closed his eyes.

It seemed but a mere second in time and Cassava's eyes snapped open. Holding his breath, he listened intently for the sound that woke him. He heard soft patting above him. He began to rise as steps approached the stair and started down. He watched the shadow of a man approach the stall and he quickly darted to the side, where a small bit of filtered moonlight shone through the window.

“Whoa!” A startled Jaszef exclaimed, nearly jumping back three steps. Cassava's mouth twitched slightly, almost into a grin. “Cassava, you cost me ten years.” Jaszef chuckled, his hand to his heart.

“Early morning for you, or did you sleep here with that wicked Todor?” Jaszef asked, tossing a hand in the horse's direction.  Todor wuffled and stomped a hoof. Jaszef laughed and reached for his boots, pulling them onto his bare feet. “Nevermind for it, whether you slept here or woke early, you are here. Come, this wicked little animal needs his morning run.” Jaszef moved and opened the stall door, calling the horse out to the yard.

   

Cassava followed, making no sound. He watched as Jaszef vaulted up onto Todor's bare back. When Jaszef leaned down and stretched a hand to Cassava, Cassava eagerly reached up and took his hand, being pulled up before the man onto the horse.

   

Together, they rode from the steep castle yard and down toward the meadows under the moon and the stars.

The Song of Gaál - Five

*** Warning ***

Sensitive situations

Violence; Nudity;

Hard R Rating

Please do not read if you are easily disturbed.

(All characters, places and events reside solely in my imagination.)

The Song of Gaál

…....... Five ….......

Cassava is undoubtedly the favourite pet of the Mistress of Castle Sotete. At almost nine years old, he has been in the service of the Mistress for three full years.    

He cannot recall his village and has no memory of a mother, a father, siblings. The nights of music stopped long ago, after the musician, Kisertet, expressed his distaste with Malika's actions. Cassava sees Kisertet at times within the castle, and sometimes their eyes meet, though Cassava quickly looks away from the intensity in Kisertet's face, his cheeks turned to hot flame.

Levente Tolvaj, even with an addled, irrational mind, is aware of Malika's infatuation with the dark haired boy and it infuriates him. Levente ensures he has plenty of opportunity to slap the face he despises. Unlike Malika, Levente does not need a wrong doing to justify the punishment. Cassava's existence is enough. Levente grows increasingly weary of seeing the boy in Malika's bedchamber nightly. He demands access to her bed more and more frequently. During one such visit, Levente stays the night.  

Cassava, shivering with fright and cold, lay curled tightly within his bedding below the window in Mistress' chamber. He wrapped his arms close to his chest, covering his ears with his hands in a failed attempt to block the sounds dropping down from the bed. He did not realise he slept until he was shocked awake by searing, blinding pain in his groin, a deep gravely voice bellowing into his ear and spittle hitting his face.   

  

Frozen in fear, a cry caught in his throat, Cassava shook with horror as Master pulled him up roughly from the floor. Levente ripped Cassava's pant from him, exposing the flesh to the cold room and displaying the softening erection. The boy stood in the predawn gloom, his head lowered in shame, his hair fallen about his face, hiding the burning red that scorched his cheeks.

Levente demands that Cassava be moved to the cellars immediately. He was no longer a boy and Levente refuses to allow Cassava in the same bed as Malika from this day forward.

Cassava's bed in the cellar is nothing more than a pile of discarded quilts. He comes to cherish the time alone and sighs relief when he hears Mistress pull the wood deadbolt through its channels and move away from the door.

With one candle for light and no windows, Cassava finds himself in the dark more often than not. He listens to the sounds of the castle around him and believes he can hear more now than ever before. In his attempts to forget the activities of the day, he turns to remembering the musician's fingers on the harp, hearing the soft, deep voice telling tales of sirens, great Kings and hard battles.

With his eyes closed to the dark room, he sees the tall man, Kisertet, sitting with a lute, caressing the strings to delightful melody, until Kisertet's eyes meet Cassava's and Cassava opens his eyes to the darkness of his room, banishing the memory. Kisertet's stormy, blue eyes always reflected a gleam that peered into Cassava's soul and Cassava feared the man would see the wickedness deep inside of him. 

The thought of Kisertet's eyes filled with hatred toward him upset Cassava immensely. Within his heart, Cassava longed to see Kisertet again, to hear the songs again, to watch the music unfold on Kisertet's face. Cassava would dig his nails into his arms until he had four points of blood and the pain broke his thoughts to stop his useless wishes and longings.

*****     *****     *****

While standing near Malika for credence while she dined, Cassava listened as Levente discussed his plans to travel to Ejszaka, a land to the east of Castle Sotete. 

Malika's foul mood worsened when Levente informed her that she would travel with him and her pet, he said with a snarling glance at Cassava, would stay at Sotete. Malika argued animatedly and was quieted by a steely look from Levente. “It is decided and it is final!” Levente roared as he slid the chair back and stormed from the dining hall.

Malika turned to Kisertet who sat impassively, eating his dinner. “You will stay.” She stated, receiving a raised brow from Kisertet. “You must stay here, Kisertet. 'Sava must be watched,” her hard eyes turned to Cassava, “he is a mischievous villain and cannot be left alone with no guardian other than Jaszef.” she continued, looking at Kisertet again.

“Jaszef is a fine guardian. The boy can learn to ride while ...”

“No!” Malika bellowed, cutting off Kisertet's words and half rising from her seat. Kisertet pursed his lips and templed his hands to his mouth, watching as Malika settled back in her chair. “No,” she said in a calmer voice. “Jaszef is just a stable man, and too soft with the boy Malek. Cassava needs a strong hand to keep him obedient. You must stay, Kisertet. There simply is no other option.”   

The Song of Gaál - Four

*** Warning ***

Sensitive situations

Violence; Nudity;

Hard R Rating

Please do not read if you are easily disturbed.

(All characters, places and events reside solely in my imagination.)

The Song of Gaál

…....... Four ….......

As fall changed to winter, the frequency of the early morning inspections dwindled away. Cassava was grateful that the animals were not punished any longer for his wrong doings. Often, in the winter months, Malika would sit by the fire in Master's great room, while the guest played his instruments for Malika's pleasure. At these times, Cassava sat near Malika's feet where she motioned him to stay.

Cassava would raptly watch the talented musician weave melody with his harp. He would watch the musician's dark hair move about as his upper body swayed with the song. He would watch the sharply angled face filled with passion as the hands played and played. He would watch the deep, blue eyes stare into his own as the musician closed his song with a glissando. The sound would always send Cassava's heart soaring and create moisture in his eyes, and he knew that the musician saw this, much to Cassava's chagrin.

  

During a performance in early spring, the door burst open, stopping the music abruptly. Levente walked heavily into the room heading toward Malika. Malika stood and kicked Cassava's leg, a signal for him to stand. Levente's mad eyes watched Malika as she moved before her husband. A crooked smile played on his lips and he displayed a dead animal in his hand.

  

Cassava saw the interaction and his breath caught, the warmth left his body and a chill came over him. Malika grabbed the animal's lifeless form and bending down, she presented it to Cassava, blaming him once more for the horrible display. A sob escaped Cassava's lips when he was forced to stand and look at the animal.

   

“Enough!” A single word, in an authoritative timbre, and Malika stood to face the musician. Malika's face wore a blissful little smile, and Cassava stared at her back, the rage in him welling.

“Kisertet,” Malika began, her voice low and tight with the smile she wore. “The boy is wicked, Kisertet. Do not let his sweet face trick you, dear brother. He is a malicious boy who needs discipline.”   

Cassava stood, staring at the musician. Kisertet. Malika's brother. Cassava felt the floors sweep away from him. His mind churned with the implications of the title Malika bestowed on the musician. He watched as an angry Kisertet eased the harp to the floor. Cassava did not know what to think or how to react. His mind was decided for him as Malika turned to leave the room, ordering Cassava to follow.

Cassava became much more observant and very furtive in all of his actions after the incident with the animal in the great room. He developed a rebellious nature and a quick temper that he tried and tried to control. He perfected his mouse-walk and could move over any floor in the castle without a sound. His personality changes excited Malika immensely. She would often entice Cassava to anger, reminding him of the cat, telling him she knew of Beata and he should worry for his friend.

Her desire to anger Cassava and elicit his reactions gave her reason enough to secure him to posts, beams and beds. As Mistress of Castle Sotete, and owner of Cassava, she did not need a reason for her cruelties or for acting on her fetishes. For the Mistress, the pleasure in causing Cassava pain intensified when she considered her actions as a punishment, whether irrationally perceived or properly warranted. 

Cassava never asked about Beata. He had not seen her in some time, but he never asks Mistress any questions. He speaks to Malika only if directly spoken to, and then only in reply to the question posed him. Cassava is no longer allowed to sleep in the anteroom when Master visits Mistress' bed. Cassava sleeps under the window on the nights Master comes.

The Song of Gaál - Three

*** Warning ***

Sensitive situations

Violence; Nudity;

Hard R Rating

Please do not read if you are easily disturbed.

(All characters, places and events reside solely in my imagination.)

The Song of Gaál

…....... Three ….......

When Cassava could steal away from Malika's side, the visits to the cellar to see Cat and Beata became the highlight of his day. However, the visits became less and less frequent.  Mistress' mood became more and more foul since the arrival of the guest and she refused to allow Cassava to leave her sight.  With his friends denied him, and his little bit of freedom sucked away, Cassava grew more and more restless.

After a particularly difficult day with Mistress, Cassava feigned sleep until Mistress' breathing became steady and slow. He slowly rolled to the edge of the bed, pausing to be certain she would not wake. He slipped his legs over the side of the bed and gently dropped to the floor, going to an immediate crouch.

He paused, fingertips on the floor and breath held until he was certain Mistress had not awakened. Staying as low to the floor as he could so as not to cast shadows, he imagined he was a mouse and quietly crept to the door, slipping out and away to the cellars.

   

The cellar was cool and silent. Cassava relaxed against the wall with the cat in his lap. He gently rubbed the cat's ears, left, right, left, right, and whispered to the cat that he missed seeing it and missed seeing Beata. Rhythmic motions and gentle purring gradually opened the path to sleep.

A loud 'crack' rent the silence and Cassava jolted awake, a severe pain in his head. His eyes flew open and his vision blurred and filled with bursting flashes of light. Blinking rapidly, he begins to raise his hands to his head, stopping the motion and becoming still as stone when he hears the frightened cries of the cat. With watering eyes wide, he tilts his head up, seeing Mistress standing over him. She holds a broom handle in one hand and the cat by the nape in the other. Her thin, sharp face black with anger and her eyes filled with malice.

Cassava digs his heels into the floor and pushes back against the wall as far as he can go, praying all the while for the wall to open and swallow him. The cat cries again, a sound of pain, and Cassava turns his attention immediately to the cat. 'Let her go!' He cries as he bounces up from the floor, arms reaching to take the cat. Malika's enraged face rapidly turned from scowling, to glaring, to smiling, a smile that set ice in Cassava's stomach; he feared that he would loose his bowels.

In the span of a heartbeat, realisation caught him. 'No.' Cassava pleaded, his voice tight and barely audible. 'Mercy! No, please no.' He begged, his voice gaining volume as tears well in his eyes. He heard the sickening thwack! that sounded when Malika bashed the cat's head.   

He heard the soft thump and slip when she threw the cat against the back wall. He could not move his eyes from the cat as its body hit the wall and slid motionless to the floor, all in a torturous, timeless moment. 

   

Cassava stood, unable to catch his breath, tears streaming down his face, liquid leaking from his nose, staring at the lifeless form of the cat that was his friend.

He did not resist when his arm was roughly taken and he was dragged out of the room. He did not resist as he was pulled up the stair, slipping and falling and scraping his knees and bare feet on the stones. 

He did not resist when Mistress stripped him of his blood spattered shirt and tied his arms together with her scarf, secured at the bedpost. His face was numb, so he did not feel the repeated slapping. His mind was numb so he did not hear the terrible words Malika said over and over and over. Cassava eventually slipped into unconsciousness.  

Following the incident with Cassava in the cellar, Malika started to order the children to the castle yard several times each week. She bade them to stand in line where they shivered in the early morning cold as she paced back and forth before them. She would point toward a mutilated animal on the ground. Sometimes it was a rabbit, other times a bird, mice, rats. Innocent creatures whose lives were stolen violently. She blamed each child in turn for the act of cruelty and whacked their hands with a horsewhip. She always stopped last before Cassava, her icy, frowning smile turned on him. She would announce that he was the culprit since he had the bloody hands. No one dared tell her that his hands were clean. On these days, Cassava would be banished to the deepest cellar below the castle, locked in until the night came.

   

The Song of Gaál - Two

*** Warning ***

Sensitive situations

Violence; Nudity;

Hard R Rating

Please do not read if you are easily disturbed.

(All characters, places and events reside solely in my imagination.)

*****

The Song of Gaál

…....... Two ….......

Malika Katarina Tolvaj, the Mistress of Castle Sotete, adored her boy.  She was enamoured with Cassava's olive coloured skin and dark, dark eyes, so unlike Levente.  She doted on the boy and kept him near her always.  

Cassava had little interaction with the household of the castle.  He rarely saw the other children and remained with Malika from dawn to dawn, each and every day, not allowed his own space or bed.  Only when Levente visited her chambers would Cassava be allowed to rest on the bench in the anteroom, but he was told to stay there, never to leave the small room just outside Malika's chambers.

Malika smothered Cassava's body in lotions and creams, pinching and prodding with her long, thin fingers as often as she desired.  When she pinched a bit too strongly or rubbed a bit too vigorously, she quickly apologised to her boy with a smile.  While Malika's smile was said to be angelic and innocent, bringing peace to the room, for Cassava, Malika's smile forced bile to climb in his throat where it burned and made his eyes water.  The smile she wore when she bade him wash her in the bath forged ice at the bottom of his gut.  The smile she wore when she bathed Cassava left his mind numb with despair.  Cassava learned quickly to obey Mistress' commands, or suffer the punishment.

As a five year old, a six year old, a seven year old, Cassava obeyed.  During the three years, Malika's hold on him relaxed slightly, allowing him time to visit the stable, sit in the kitchen to supper with the castle staff, or sit alone to read a book.  Levente glowered at Cassava whenever he saw him.  Although there was a modicum of freedom, Cassava was not allowed, ever, to leave the castle grounds.

   

In Cassava's eighth year, marking his third year at the castle, his life changed. Cassava found a scrawny cat huddled on the stoop outside the scullery. With the cat under his shirt and his arms wrapped around himself to contain and hide the cat, he stole downstairs to the cellars. 

Cassava knew of the storage area in the cellar and that Master and Mistress did not venture to the room. The room was full of dust covered trunks, broken pottery and cobwebs, he doubted anyone remembered the room was there. Cassava piled rags to create a warm place for the cat to stay. He supplied it with water to drink and scraps to eat and he assured it that it could have as many mice as it could catch. Cassava would steal away from Mistress at times and visit the cat, petting and hugging his feline friend and letting the cat chase his fingertips along the floor.  

During one of his trips to the cellar room, Cassava found the kitchen girl, Beata, peeking into the room where the cat stayed. Cassava walked silently closer to Beata. Once he reached her and could stretch out a hand to touch her, he asked in a low voice what she was doing. Having not heard Cassava's approach, Beata squealed and spun around, looking at Cassava with wide, frightened eyes. Cassava placed his hand over Beata's mouth, motioning her quiet with his other hand.   

He listened raptly for three heartbeats... four....five... and hearing no sounds other than Beata's rapid breaths and the cat shuffling on the bed of rags, Cassava repeated his question. The shy little blonde girl told him in a whisper that she was sent on an errand by Ursula, the housemaid, to bring back bedding for a guest. With her blue eyes twinkling and her cheeks flushed, Beata told Cassava that she heard mewling and discovered the cat behind the closed door. 


Beata quickly promised to keep the cat a secret between herself and Cassava. In the following weeks, Cassava encounters Beata in the cellar when he can leave Malika's side. They talk quietly when they meet and share their laps with the cat.

The Song of Gaál - One

*** Warning *** 

Sensitive situations

Violence; Nudity; 

Hard R rating

Please do not read if you are easily disturbed

(All characters, places and events reside solely in my imagination.)

The Song of Gaál

.............. One ............

Cassava DelGado lived within the walls of Castle Sotete most of his young life. At the tender age of five, Cassava and two other children left the village with Levente Tolvaj, Master of Castle Sotete. Levente had been watching the children in the village below the castle for seven years, since his marriage to Malika Katarina Gaál. Levente hoped he would find a dark haired, dark eyed male child each time he approached the village. This was no small task since the people of the secluded, mountainous lands that surrounded Castle Sotete were often fair haired and blue eyed. Levente would take a child occasionally to service the castle and he would leave a gift for the village in return, but he had yet to find the child he wanted.   

Following a trip to the neighboring county, Levente Tolvaj turned his horse down the narrow path leading to the smallest village on his lands. He called out to the elders as he approached and was greeted by a stoutly woman. A small group of children cautiously followed behind the woman. Levente nodded to the elderly woman, his glance never really touching her, and he peered around her at the children.

   

At the sight of Cassava's smudged face and bare feet, Levente's dour face split into a smile. The smile did nothing to appease the nervousness of the children. The curve of Levente's lips was more grimace than smile, set in a ruddy face, partly obscured by lengthy, pale hair. The children unwittingly took a step backward, seeing a vision from nightmares before them. The village woman ushered the children forward for inspection; she knew Levente had come to claim more children for the castle. Joined by her elderly husband, the woman twisted her hands together while the two men discussed the trade.

   

The deal sealed with the promise of new livestock for the village, both elders turned their faces from Levente, telling themselves that the gleam in Levente's eye was reflection and nothing more. The village needed the two cows promised by the Master of the Castle; they did no need the three hungry children, especially so when one was not their own. 'They will have fair lives at the castle,' the village elders assured each other as they brushed gooseflesh from their arms. None glanced in the direction of the dark castle that sat high on a hill. None watched as the guardsmen swept up Cassava and the two other children. None turned to wave farewell when the small group began their journey to the castle. Not a sound was heard from the children.

Upon arrival to the castle, Levente Tolvaj dispatched the older village boy to the stables with the stable master and sent the small girl to the kitchens with a maidservant. 

Cassava stood stiff and still, flanked by Levente's guardsmen, suffering Levente's glaring perusal. The frowning smile never left Levente's face and Cassava did his best to avoid looking directly at him.

Levente finally spoke, after what seemed an eternity to a five year old, 'Bathe him and take him to Mistress Tolvaj.' Levente ordered the burly guardsman standing behind Cassava. Levente decided that giving the boy to his eccentric wife would be an entertainment for her and he would have the boy close at hand. Chuckling to himself, Levente walked away, satisfied with the arrangement and applauding his own cleverness. What better guard for the boy than dear, little Malika?