Page 57 of Rook of Ruin
She sighs, putting her fingers to the bridge of her nose like I’m a child who is getting on her last nerve. The man I just kicked is laid out, bleeding and laughing. I squint my eyes at the other men who surround me.
Even if I turned to run, I wouldn’t make it.So fuck it.A beast of a man is the first one to make a move. I quickly dodge his large hands and counter with an elbow to his nose. Blood gushes, and he yells out. The next one comes in quickly, aiming for my legs, but I punch down with the sharp points of my brace just as another man grabs my torso. We all go down in a tangled mess, the air pushed from my lungs. I bite, kick, and punch out. It takes four of them to hold me down and put a sack over my head. I laugh because I’m not going to give them the satisfaction of crying. It also makes me happy that all of them are bruised and bleeding.
“Is that all you’ve got? You pieces of shit!” I scream out at them as I try to wiggle from their grasps.
Nora sighs even louder. I lash out as they try to bind my hands and feet. When I feel someone try to haul me up to a standing position, I slam my head back into their face. Muffled cursing, and I’m dropped. Laughing hysterically, a throbbing pain in my head blooms, one that I heal.
“O, you’re going to stop this now,” Nora grinds out. “You’ve proved your point.”
“What fucking point is that?” I scream at her, trying to see through the little holes of the sack.
“That you’re worthy of our loyalty.”
I still. They pick me up and shove me into a cart.
The air grows cool, and the smell of fresh hay from the cart makes my nose itch. I try really hard to pay attention to the twists and turns we take, but it’s difficult when I haven’t a clue about the road we are on. All I know is that it took us a very long time to get to where we are, and when the cart stops, there is nothing but silence. I’m grabbed and carried until they push me down into a chair and untie me. The sack is taken off my head, and the brightness of the room is blinding, yet there are no windows, just a large skylight. Nora is laying out some clothes for me, and the man I held hostage blows me a kiss.
Nora glances at me. “There is a washroom through there. Wash yourself off, change, and I’ll be back in.” My eyes dart to the man, and she laughs. “If he really wanted to harm you, he would have made sure those arrows landed in an area you couldn’t heal. We are allowing you to keep your brace on as a sign of good faith.” I want to hide it behind my back, but I don’t. They walk out the door, then a few locks click as they slide in place.
Moving swiftly, I search the room for anything that could be used as a weapon. Nothing. Nothing in the bathroom either other than soap and a small sink. Refusing to feel embarrassed about pissing myself, I wash off. The clothes Nora laid out for me are cream-colored lace underwear, a stupid matching corset, which pulls together at the front, a cream gown with red beads starting at the neck and dripping down, and cream heeled shoes. There is a reason she wants me to wear this specific dress, and I understand why. I’m the fucking Ruby.
Stepping into the dress, I sigh while lifting it and hook the red beads around my neck. The beads drop down to the center of my chest and connect to the hips, making a pattern that drips down, accentuating my curves. The gown itself stops at my breasts, showing enough cleavage to be daring but not overwhelming. Instead of using the cream-colored heels, I tug on my black boots—I’ll be able to run faster in them.
Nora knocks and enters. She looks at me and then the lack of cream shoes and smiles. Her black-haired friend follows in and whistles, giving me a wink of approval. I shoot him a glare while Nora adjusts my dress in the back.
“Sit down,” Nora commands, and I do. She takes out what’s left of my messy braid and twists my hair into a loose bun. She pulls out a small white gold tiara and sets it on my head. “Let’s go.”
I huff. “Are you going to tell me—”
“Let’s go. You’ll find out soon enough.” She grabs my elbow, but I yank it back.
“They threatened to send me to the Stocks.” A place where flesh is bought and sold. If the Locker has taught me anything, the Stocks are a heinous place, and a woman sent there will never return. How it has been allowed to thrive, I will never understand.
“I know. I told them to threaten you,” she says so fucking casually. “They were under orders.” We stare at each other for a few moments. “Let’s go.” The finality in her voice means either I follow or else.
We walk down a wooden corridor, down a flight of stairs, and into what looks like a very large open barn. Men and women stare at me as I enter, then they all kneel, lowering their eyes.What the fuck is happening?Too much, too soon. My heart is thudding out of my chest with each step I take. We walk to the back of the building, where a large door is shut.
Separated from the crowd of people, a woman and two children. They have red puffy eyes and are silently crying. Something tugs in my chest; maybe it is the two children kneeling. I remember kneeling like this before the queen once, in a room I can’t stand to be in. I stop before them, ignoring Nora, who keeps walking forward. I pull up my skirts and squat down before them, a ripple of murmurs going through the crowd.
I gently ask, “Please, can I help you?” The woman keeps her eyes on the floor, but the children look up briefly, and a look of shock crosses their features. I give them a soft smile. “I’m Orlaith.” The mother pulls the boys to herself, and they look back down. I’m surprised by the act. “I’m so sorry. If I have offended you, please for—”
Nora’s presence interrupts my train of thought. She bends at the waist and whispers in my ear, “Get up and come with me. They are afraid of offendingyou. Don’t give them cause to feel so.” One of the little boys looks up, and I give him a small smile, then he gives me one back.
I follow Nora to the large door, and she slides it open. Shock runs through me at the wails of pain and the sight of the makeshift infirmary. Men, women, and children are lined up, some crying, some screaming, some too silent.
“Who did this?” I gasp out.
“Roggenwolf,” Nora replies. “We got here too late.”
“Children first,” I say to her, taking in the bodies, the blood, the horror. She nods. I heal eighteen children, the youngest only a year old. I don’t stop, not even for a moment, not until the seventy-three adults are healed too. What would take other Rook healers the whole day if not more has taken me a little over an hour.
“You’re damn efficient.” The mischievous male wildly grins. He tries to smooth out his mussed dark hair while I double-check everyone.
I glare at him. “If you—”
He interrupts me. “No. Look around you. There are no ifs. There was certain death before your healing.” There is only truth in his words, and I cannot argue against them. Instead, I march back through the infirmary, double-checking I did not miss any even the smallest cut or bruise. Then, I take the people’s hands, listen to their thanks, and offer sympathies.
At one point, my fingers are intertwined with wrinkled ones belonging to an elderly lady. She whispers to me about her life. She tells me we are in a village close to Enthe called Calverdea. Tears fall down her lovely face as she remembers her husband.
