AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Go take care of your own women. With proper instruction, we will get through this.” He clapped Oleg, a tall, rough-looking man who ran the mill, on the shoulder. “You’ve done the Lord’s work today, my sons.”
They finally headed back towards the village proper, and the Father cast a thoughtful eye over us when the last had left.
“I believe a day of silence is in order,” he finally said. “From now until the next sunrise, no words will cross your lips. Go home, Yana.”
She hesitated, knowing the men had gone that way. Neither of us wanted to be caught alone by them.
“I will be right behind you.” He gave her a thin smile, and Yana finally skittered away, her shoulders hunched.
Then the Father’s gaze landed on me. “This is on you, Salem. We lost a morning of labor to this useless activity because of your indiscretions. You’ll have a day of silence, and I think it’s time you learned to be of use to us. Tomorrow, you’ll attend to the Augur as he harvests.”
I would have to go into the Wood again.
Alone, with the old man with roaming hands. And I wouldn’t be able to leave, or have anyone to stop him from touching me.
The Father read my horrified silence correctly, a much more genuine smile on his face now.
“True contrition is a sacrifice we all must make, Vessel. You must learn to make the divine consecration not only for yourself, but for the next Vessel as well, because it is about time you were bred.”
He began to walk away, expecting me to follow him, and his voice drifted back to me.
“If you cannot accept my guidance, the next one will have to do it in your place.”
Chapter Six
I feltlike I was being lowered into a hole from which there was no escape.
It was hard to tell which was worse: the Father extolling the virtues of Oleg the miller to me over breakfast, even though all the women in the village knew Oleg was quick to snap and quicker to strike; or the Augur giggling as he led me further into the Wood, because he’d gotten a palmful of my ass and I could do nothing about it.
Father Borodin had not been making idle threats about breeding me to one of the village men.
Although the stain of my bastard birth would still be on my child, there were plenty of men who would happily put their hat in the ring to impregnate the Vessel.
Mostly because if they had a child born to me, they would be free of tithing to the Church for the rest of their lives. That was one of the privileges afforded to those who bred a new Vessel for the good of the village.
Apparently the Father had decided the best father for my child would be one of the cruelest, hardest men in the village. Maybe he thought Oleg’s fists would put me in my place when the birch branch could not.
I’d felt so sick at the thought of being under Oleg that I couldn’t bring myself to eat. The Father had watched me knowingly, a wicked glint in his eye, until I’d finally drunk my tea just to numb myself to it all.
Then the Augur had collected me, shoved a wicker basket into my hands, and had piled insult on top of injury when he groped me on the way past the barrier ropes.
He left a veritable feast on top of the stump, hard cheese, dried berries, and a flank of venison, which would have practically guaranteed safe passage at any other time.
But the Beast I’d met the other night had made it clear that I was unwelcome in the Wood, even if I’d left gold and diamonds behind.
No way forward, no way back. I was damned whether I remained in the village or out of it.
I held the basket in front of myself like a shield as we traipsed deeper into the Wood. The Augur moved slowly, feeling his way past roots and stones with his carved staff, and I kept several paces behind him.
The last thing I wanted was to be within his arm’s reach.
Every step further into the Wood shredded my nerves. I kept jumping at shadows, expecting a slavering werewolf to be hiding behind every tree.
If they bothered to let me see them first at all. Maybe they’d simply make their point by ripping my spine out through my back.
The Augur led us nearly a mile away from Vostok before he stopped. We’d found a large copse full of deadfall, and he immediately knelt and began rooting around beneath a half-rotten log. The thick smell of loam filled the air as I knelt nearby, but not close enough to make myself vulnerable.
“Ahhh.” He used a small knife to scrape away at the underside of the log, and brought out a small cluster of brown mushrooms to show me. “The blister cap mushroom. This comprises much of the base of the divine consecration.”
