TWENTY-THREE HUNDRED.✔

YEAR 2280 - PART ONE

It could have been beautiful. The orange loom of the fire was like the rising sun as it lit up the earth. Sparks floated upward, flared bright, and then died as the inferno's force ate up everything in its path.

People ran in every direction avoiding flames, which leapt and danced lighting up the chaos. The cacophony of screams grew louder as raiders rampaged through the village.

Tessa crouched in the bushes watching three men pin down one of the village girls. A flaming torch, stabbed into the ground, lit up the scene. She clutched her throat at the sight knowing there was nothing she could do to help. Tessa turned her head away and gagged as the scent of burning flesh and blood mingled with her fear.

The sound was heard by one of the men. He jerked his head up, lifted the torch, peered in her direction, and then rose to his feet. Wiping the back of his hand across his mouth he strode toward the shrubs.

Tessa saw him coming at the last minute. She shot to her feet, stumbled down the alley, dashed around the corner and scurried into her house slamming the door behind her. She huddled between the wall and a cupboard, hoping the man hadn't seen which door she had entered.

Metal scrapping against metal as the door latch lifted reverberated around the room. Heavy footsteps followed. The man raised the lighted torch above his head so the flame flickered, making every shadow dance. Tessa clenched her fists against her mouth. Let him pass. Please let him go away.

She waited.

The harsh sound of his breathing reminded her of a wild beast as it paused to strike. His boots mating with the hard dirt floor marked each second.

Safe. Stay safe. Tessa watched the shadows extend, and then recede. She closed her eyes and eased out her breath. Don't move and you will stay safe.

He reached around the cupboard, grabbed her upper arm and chuckled. "There you are rabbit."

She screamed, bit his hand and tried to push past him but he knocked her backwards with his shoulder and then grabbed her by the throat pushing her hard against the wall. In the light of the torch, Tessa stared up at him. He was younger than she expected, sinewy and pale, blonde-haired with skin that was fresh and clear. Not quite a man and yet not a boy. If it wasn't for the hatred in his piercing grey eyes, she would have thought him to be a farmer's son.

"Please. Don't hurt me," she begged.

"Humph." His mouth curled as he ran his tongue over his lips. "I'll do what I want."

Hauling her across the room and through the door he threw the torch at the base of the mud and straw wall. The brushwood caught and flared into life.

"I beg you, please don't hurt me. I am with child." Tessa struggled, hitting his back with her free fist while trying to yank her other out of his hold.

He spun, jerked her toward him, and took hold of a clump of her auburn hair forcing her to look at him. Drawing a blade from his belt and holding it against her throat he hissed, "Keep fighting me and I'll gut you."

Tessa raised her hands and shrank in his hold. Flames from the burning hut reflected in the blade of his knife. When he lowered it and pressed the cold steel to her large stomach she whimpered, "P... please..."

"I'll cut the whelp out and slit its throat if you keep fighting." He jerked her against him snarling, "You understand me, wench?"

"Y... yes... I... I will obey." A shiver of fear and hate shook every muscle in her body. This moment was not new to her. Visions of other men clawing and ripping at her clothes flashed across her mind. The image of the poor girl this man had been pinning down with his friends came to her. Tessa thought if this was her moment to die, at least he, being here now, prevented him from being part of his first victim's horror. She looked up at him and murmured, "What drives a man as young as you to be so cruel?"

"Shut up," he bellowed. "It's my right!"

A surge of courage strengthened Tessa. She would fight for her life and die doing it rather than let him have his way. Jerking backwards she tried to twist out of his hold but his grip on her hair yanked her back against his chest.

"I told you not to fight me." He spun her so he could see her face once more and pushing the tip of the blade to her cheek he added, "You're a pretty one. Don't wanna gut you so behave." With a quick movement of his hand, he struck her across the face.

Tessa fell onto her stomach. Pain shot through her abdomen. She pushed herself onto her hands and tried to scurry away. He kicked her in the thigh so she dropped again screaming in agony.

"I can play this game all night if you want." He laughed as he walked around her.

"Please..." Tears streamed down her cheeks. There was no hope. "Don't hurt me," she begged."

He again gripped the hair at the back of her head and then lifted her to her knees. "I ain't hurt you yet. That fun is still to come." He smirked, put the knife in his belt and used that hand to undo the toggles on his trousers. "We'll start this way. What do you think?"

Pressing her lips together she snorted out air and moaned as she tried to turn away from the rancid smell of him.

He let go of her hair, stepped around her and pushed her onto her hands. "Bend over. You understand me!"

A sharp pain shot through her lower stomach. God... no... Don't let the baby come. Not now.

"I'm gonna take you from behind," he rasped. "If you fight me, I'll kill you." He crouched behind her and tore at her skirt.

Another contraction caught her. Tessa bit down on her lip not wanting to alert him of her condition. With the taste of blood in her mouth she groaned against her clenched teeth, dropped her shoulders and placed her head onto her folded hands so her backside was raised. Fighting back a sob she shuffled her knees apart.

"Wider!" He slapped her hard on the thigh and pushed against her.

"I... I b... beg you please... no..." Crumpling to the ground Tessa tensed in anticipation of the pain she knew was coming, and then looked over her shoulder to see him leering at her backside like an unfed animal. She dry-retched at the sight. With an ache in her heart, she did what he wanted and turned to hide her face in her hands once more.

Movement in the shadows caught her attention. Someone was there watching. "Help me," she whispered into the darkness.

*

Hate was a powerful thing. It gave Marella strength. So much in fact, that when she wielded the old rusted rapier, it took the man's head clean from his shoulders. His body buckled. Blood spurted over the clothes, which flapped on a line in the gentle night air.

Tessa screamed and scuttled forward as the weight of the headless torso pushed against her. She vomited and held her stomach as another pain seized her.

"Mama." Tessa heaved again and grasped her mother's arm.

"Tis alright, Tessa," Marella cooed, and dragged her daughter into an embrace. Rocking backwards and forwards she swept hair away from Tessa's face. "He's dead. It's all right. He's dead. As long as I'm able I'll never let another do that to my daughter again."

"Mama." Tessa looked up into her mother's ageing face. "It's the child." She gasped, drew up her knees and clutched her large stomach. "The child comes."  

Copyright © 2017 by Donna Fieldhouse. All rights reserved.

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