Excerpt
– The Weeping Empress
She
shifted her focus, concentrating on listening to the hushed conversation to her
right. Even though their voices were low, it wasn’t difficult to follow since
the camp was so quiet.
Three
men sat with their heads lowered and close together for conversation. Their
skin was tanned to the point of appearing leathered, and they all had the
sinewed look of someone used to manual labor. They appeared comfortable in
their environment, and Chiyo envied them for that.
“Muhjah
says they’ll take us as far as the next town before leaving us to our own
fates,” the first said.
“Hmph,
our fates? That’s one way to put it I guess. I rather thought mine was going to
be behind the walls of the Danbire Workhouse,” the second quipped acerbically.
He was
ignored as the third nodded and noted, “Devi, I’ve been there. Big enough to
get lost in.”
“And we
all had better get lost. I’m as glad as the next man to miss out on conscripted
service, but if we get caught, we might have been better off to just suffer
through it,” said the first.
“Oh,
come off it! How many people have ever come back to your village after service?
In mine, I can think of one, and he wasn’t worth much after that. Why do you
think villages send old women like Andela there? They’re no use to anyone
anymore anyway,” snapped the second.
Chiyo
followed his gaze as he indicated the woman she had spoken to earlier in the
evening. The speaker flinched as a harmless clod of dirt hit him in the side of
the head, and Andela made a withering face at him. Chiyo thought that Andela
had been surprisingly quick for someone looking so frail. The man simply
brushed it from his hair and continued.
“Me,
I’m glad to be taking my chances out here. That said, I’ll be glad to part
company with them.”
He
looked over his shoulder as if by having spoken of Muhjah and his partner, they
might suddenly materialize out of the night. There was a general agreement
among the group. More than one shuddered.
Casting
another furtive look over his shoulder the old man continued again, “They say
he never should have been born at all, and if you ask me, that’s the same as
being dead.”
“Well,
no one asked you,” Andela interjected. “You should just shut up. There’s no
cause for such ridiculous tales tonight.”
The men
grumbled, but Chiyo noticed that there was no more talk. The men hunkered into
themselves. Their fear was almost palpable. She heard similar stories around
her and always the names Muhjah and Senka were mentioned. These, she supposed,
were their two intrepid rescuers.
About the Author
Sadie Forsythe hails from the South Eastern United States, lives
in North Western England, and is a fan of all things Japanese. She holds
degrees in Anthropology/Comparative Religion, International Criminology, and
Social Change. She loves local coffee shops, geek culture, everything bookish, &
tea (steaming with milk & sweet iced). She is married with two daughters
and an imaginary dog.
Links:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/sadiesforsythe