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Year 163 – Summer – Quartus Mensis – 42nd day
Avem, town of House Valmai, land of the Vale
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When the Far Eastern girl reached Avem, she crossed the first gate and noticed General Thorkel talking to five of his men and the two guards on duty. Vatra walked toward them fiercely.
Vatra – “JOB’S DONE!”
The general turned around and said something to his men before looking at the girl.
Thorkel – “What job?”
Is he dumb?
Vatra – “The job you gave me.”
Thorkel – “I didn’t give you a job.”
The soldiers of House Krain walked away from them by passing to her left and right.
Thorkel – “Is she the one you saw cross the gate?”
Guard 1 – “We saw her leave with a large bag.”
I don’t like this.
Vatra – “Is a . . . Is there a problem?”
Thorkel – “SOLDIERS!”
The five soldiers who were walking away turned toward Vatra and drew their blades. Two on her left, two on her right, one behind her, the general in front, and the two town guards by his side.
Wow, wow, wow. What is the meaning of this?
Vatra then drew both of her swords.
Thorkel – “You are under arrest, Kalator. Drop your blade, and we will send you to jail. Keep them, and we will slay you like a pig.”
Vatra – “What’s wrong with you?”
Thorkel – “I will not repeat myself, Kalator.”
Vatra looked around her; the peasants who were initially working were watching her. More soldiers were waiting further away, ready to help if needed. She scanned the crowd for Valmai soldiers, but none of them were there.
How could it come to this? Where did I fail? Why does he want me dead?
Vatra – “I’M NOT A KALATOR! I’M A VALMAI SOLDIER!”
Thorkel – “The Valmai soldiers left with the Eagle of Vale to fight a group of Kalator scouts. If you’re one of them, why are you not with them?”
Vatra – “I’m on orders from the Eagle.”
Thorkel – “Then you’ll have the time to talk to him once you’re in jail.”
Vatra was frozen in place, trying to figure out a solution, but none were coming to mind. The soldiers were ready to jump on her on command.
Thorkel – “This is your last chance, Kalator.”
With terror in her eyes, she dropped both her blades.
Vatra – “I’m not . . . a Kalator . . .”
Thorkel – “Capture her!”
The five soldiers pushed her onto the ground, pulling her armour away and tying her legs and hands before forcing her to walk by pulling the rope. As she tried to step forward, she fell to the ground, but General Thorkel kept pulling the rope, dragging her on the dirt as her clothing shredded. Taken by pain, Vatra tried to get up, only to fall again and get up once more. She was afraid and confused as she kept falling on the dirt again and again. By the time she reached the jail within the castle walls, bruises were scattered across her knees and arms, and dirt covered her face and hair.
The soldiers untied her and threw her into her cell before leaving the jail. The jail was dark and gloomy. A sole candle was slowly burning on a table outside of her cell. Vatra was still in shock at what had happened when she crawled to the jail’s corner and slowly regained her breath. She was alone in this world, and all her hopes had been taken away twice. But this time, she would rot in jail, betrayed by those she believed to be her own. Vatra grasped her amber necklace and pressed it against her cheek while she hugged herself with her left hand. She shivered in silence, which was soon broken by her sobs as her tears slowly washed the dirt away from her cheeks.
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