The Song of Gaál - Eight

*** 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

…....... Eight ….......

Cassava found that the infant that Malika claimed as her own offered him respite from Malika's constant observation. While he was not allowed to leave her side, he was allowed to read a book as he waited for her to want his attention. Ursula would come to the nursery during the day and Malika would respond by screaming at her and pushing her away until Levente came to the room. Levente would take Malika's arms and remind her that Ursula was the wet-nurse and all proper Ladies used them. Malika would calm slightly and begrudgingly hand over Eszerbet. She would then pull Cassava up by his arm and push past Levente, leaving the room in an angry flurry. Levente watched Cassava's dark head as it disappeared from the room behind Malika, his eyes filled with bitterness.

In the library, Cassava stood before Malika while she looked into the fire. Levente sat with a book on his lap, watching the boy. Cassava shifted slightly and kept his eyes averted, feeling Levente's stare bore into his skin and making his spine race with chills.

  

He heard steps on the front stair and breathed deeply a sigh of relief when Jaszef begins to speak to Levente. Levente rose and approached Malika. “Malika, it is time to put your pet away, it is late. Go to bed.” The two men stood by as Malika led Cassava from the room. 

Cassava followed Malika down to his cellar room. He stood inside the door as she closed it, leaving him in darkness. He listened for the bolt to slide through the channels and after his eyes adjusted, he moved to his bed to sleep.  

Cassava woke from a deep sleep, his senses tingling. He lay covered in the quilts, listening intently to the dark room and the castle above him. Uncertain what brought him awake, he relaxed into the bedding and tried to regain sleep. Moments passed and again he is alert, having heard a sound on the step. His back to the door, he wonders if it is morning so soon and Malika has come for him. He began to move from the bedding when the door burst open admitting Levente.  In a blind fit of jealous rage, Levente advanced on Cassava, kicking his back and running a long dagger through his chest, leaving him to bleed out his life in the cold, dank cellar.  

Levente then moved to the kitchen and ordered a serving girl to rouse the Mistress from bed, her pet was dead. As the girl ran to complete her errand, Levente returned to the cellar and kicked Cassava's abdomen, eliciting a weak groan from the boy that brought a cruel smile to Levente's lips. Cassava curled into himself, rolling onto his side. Levente kicked once more, his booted heel to Cassava's head, then the Master of Castle Sotete turned and left the cellar.

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Malika flew through the castle from her chambers to the cellars, running down the stone stair, unmindful for the slippery damp that covered each step. Seeing Cassava curled on the floor in a pool of blood, the Mistress threw herself down beside his unmoving form, her nightclothes soaking up the life spilling from Cassava. 'Surely he is dead!', she thinks. Distraught with grief, Malika closed her eyes, quickly turning Cassava over. She hears a weak gasp and knowing the sound to be Cassava's, her eyes widen. 'He is not dead! Hurry! Hurry!' She shouts to the girl, 'Fetch Kisertet! Bring him here now!', she orders, her eyes darting to the girl as the girl bounds up the stair.  

Her attention turned back to Cassava, she pulls the jumper off of him and slaps at his cheeks, calling his name, watching his throat work as he swallows and struggles for each short, gasping breath. 'Open your eyes, `Sava, open them! You will not die, I will not allow you to die,' Malika growls, '..`Sava, you are mine.' Whether her words are heard or not, Cassava continues to struggle to survive. Had he command of his thoughts, he would certainly be seeking his freedom in death.  He was not aware of being lifted and carried from the cellar.  

*****          *****          *****

Fevered eyes dart side to side beneath swollen lids as heat sears through the boy's veins. Cassava whimpers in pain and mumbles incomprehensible words as his weak arms struggle against a coverlet. His battered frame sinks further into the soft bedding he lies upon.

'He is waking,' Malika states, then casts a questioning glance at the man sitting on the bed at the boy's side.

'No.' Kisertet replies without a look at Malika. 'He is dying.' Kisertet continues to dampen the cloth in the tepid water and wipe the boy's brow, watching the grimace relax and return with each pass of cloth to skin.

Malika cast an angry stare at Kisertet and moved before him to force his eyes to meet her own. 'Save him,' she bluntly commanded, causing Kisertet to become completely still. He raised his eyes to Malika's and watched the face that he knew so well. Kisertet gently snorted and returned his attention to the dying boy. 'Now why would I do that, Mistress?' emphasising the last word. Kisertet is stunned when Malika drops to her knees before him, her hands holding his legs and her face turned up to his. 'You are the only one who can. We waste precious moments, save him, Kisertet.' Malika pleads.

Disgusted, Kisertet pushes Malika's hands from his legs and rapidly stands, walking around the bed and to the window. He keeps his back to her, his ears alert to the shallow, uneven breaths from the boy. 'You cannot let him die, Kisertet!' Malika wails, dropping back on her bottom to sit on the floor. Kisertet spins around with the force of a whirlwind and stares at Malika. 'Why, Malika?' he asks bitterly, 'so you can abuse the boy more, so Levente can torture him more? What do you want with him, Malika? What sort of sick hell have you put this boy through, dear sister?' he sneers. 'Surely you have the means to cure him yourself!' 

Kisertet's angry tirade leaves him breathing heavily and he watches Malika with sour distaste as her hands cover her eyes and her sobs fill the room. His eyes catch the gleam of the fire reflected from the gemstone of Malika's ring and his face clenched in a tight angry snarl. 'Get out,' Kisertet tells her, his soft voice belying the anger he holds in close control. When she does not move fast enough and looks at him questioningly, he loses patience. Swiftly moving to Malika, Kisertet grabs her arm and pulls her to her feet, shoving her to the door, 'Out!' he bellows, pushing her through the door and closing it as Malika falls forward on the other side. He slams the bolt across, locking himself in the room with the boy, and makes his way back to the bed.