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.