The Sentenced, Chapter 3

Thread 3, Part 2:
Laurel

The Sentenced

(there) - thousands of year ago

Chapter 3

The cumulous clouds had thickened and grown darker as the afternoon wore on. The wind had picked up and its roar rose and fell occasionally loosening a shower of evergreen needles to cascade around Laurel. She was rolling her shoulders back and forth to work the knots out of her muscles wondering whether this pain would be with her forever or if her muscles would conform to their restricted position. She contemplated her growing thirst, the grumble in her stomach. She thought about her need to urinate and the twisted knot that prevented her from pulling her leggings down. Slowly she slumped over to her right side, resting on the bed of soft fir needles, slowly drifting back to her thoughts of Evvy and her commitment to the Hollow Well.



     <>--+-

Word had spread like wildfire of Evvy’s sentencing and over the next days people streamed into Blint from all over to observe Evvy’s commitment to the Hollow Well. Laurel knew most all of the people that were arriving, some from as many as fifty kilometers away. Though, before, she might have called the old acquaintances “friends” or even “sisters”, today, she hated them all. How dare they use Evvy’s commitment as a reason to gather and celebrate?

The town was alive with vendors serving food and people laughing and hugging old friends. Coffles of slaves, submissives, and Arbors were staked around, unblinkered and openly laughing amongst themselves. They would fall into a structure whenever another Mistress or Generatrix stopped to visit, though, even then their presentation was far from strict.

As Laurel made her way to the council house she found that her stomach was queasy as though she might become sick. It should be a mournful occasion, she thought. The sun should not be shining. It should be dark and deathly silent. Laurel needed silence so she could think. Her mind frantically going over her “run” plan again and again.

Hollow Well ceremonies such as this did not occur too often. Laurel only remembered two before. Indeed, at those times she was one of the celebrants. She became filled with self-loathing thinking of how she treated the prior ceremonies with such flippancy - always thinking of the accused as deserving of her fate - never thinking of how the loved ones of the accused would suffer. For, the ceremony symbolized the initiation of a process, and by the conclusion, Evvy, her lover, would be taken away forever.

Laurel’s stomach tightened involuntarily and she spat the taste of bile from her mouth into the dust. “Keep it together,” she told herself. She had to keep her wits about her and prepare for the “run”. She turned towards a stand of trees where she had tied Sollace, a strong horse that Flint had loaned her. She spent her time rechecking the tightness of the saddle straps and bridal and harness and the lines securing the thoroughbred to the tree. She buried her face in the beast’s neck and sent up a prayer for speed.

Out in front of the council house a cage had been quickly erected. Outside, Apple sat cross-legged in the dirt, staring plaintively out towards the western hills, ignoring the people streaming past her into the council house. Her face had healed quickly, of course, though she had cut her hair short to match the areas where locks had been burned off by the fireball.

The occupant of the cage, Shonsay, too, had healed proving that regardless of whatever entity occupied her, she was still divine. Her leg had mended. It was no longer broken, but it was still covered in black dirt and ash. She pulled her folded legs close to her chest and every once in a while, her head would turn up for a quick look at her surroundings. Laurel watched quietly, hidden behind Sollace and the trees. She saw Shonsay’s eyes flit from side to side, feral, filled with fear, uncomprehending.

As the sun lowered its way down into the Western hills the people made their way into the council hall. Finally, even Apple stood and after saying something to Shonsay walked up to the council hall, leaving the frightened Wom huddled in the shadows of the cage.

Laurel slipped from behind the horses, across the square and into the council hall. The air was heavy and hot and there seemed to be too many people trying to breathe what goodness there was within the walls of the structure. Some whispered condolences as Laurel pushed her way through the crowd, most did not. Laurel ignored them all the same. Even though her relationship with Evvy was not a registered association, most everyone knew they were lovers and offered no resistance as she pushed her way through the standing throngs to the foot of the stage at the far end of the hall.

A stream of light from a West facing window shone upon the back wall of the stage. It slowly rose and changed from white to orange and finally faded out as the sun set. Orbs of white were sent to the rafters and began to glow, brightly illuminating the hall. Soon, Maria, the overseer of Blint walked out to the center of the stage, dressed in the traditional flowing black robes and veil. As she stood and faced the hall, conversations faded until there was silence. The overseer then began to speak.

“This evening, I regret, we must commit Evvy to the Hollow Well,” the overseer began quite simply, a sullen tone in her voice. “We have found that she committed an act that has been forbidden. She broke one of the Fundamental Rules which have been passed from Mother to Daughter and has traveled ever westward - handed to us by the first Wom, declared illegal by the Keyholder herself. The sentenced, Evvy, did awaken the body of Shonsay prematurely by shooting her with a generated fireball as witnessed by Apple, Taipan, and Harriet…”

“Lies! Harriet was no witness!” Laurel’s blood was suddenly boiling. It took a moment before she even realized what she had said.

The overseer turned and took a step towards Laurel. “Please do not disrupt this commitment service, Laurel. I would not like to have to send you from the hall.” Laurel placed her hand over her mouth as the overseer turned back towards the center of the room.

“We have no choice but to commit Evvy to the Hollow Well. Please bring forth the summoning vessel.”

Two more council members, also dressed in long black robes rolled a heavy wooden box approximately a meter on a side out onto the stage. It was placed at the acute junction of the branches of a Y-shaped table which was slightly taller than the box and angled up along the stem.

One of the bearers was Harriet who, after positioning the box, stood and faced the crowd reverently. Laurel fought an urge to climb up on the stage and attack her.

The overseer turned towards the eaves of the stage, “Bring the sentenced forth.”

A Wom bearing a chain link leash appeared from offstage followed closely by Evvy and two attendants who held her arms, guiding her toward the Y-shaped table. Evvy was naked except for the metal collar locked around her neck, and her hands which had been folded into balls and wrapped tightly in leather coverings, buckled in place with a dark leather strap presumably as a defense against ability to shoot fireballs. Small stout padlocks dangled from the buckles.

Evvy seemed to be deprived off her wits. She stumbled occasionally as she crossed the stage and her head lolled from side to side. Her eyes seemed heavy and unfocused and she had a lazy smile that occasionally crept across her lips. She looked drunk, but Laurel was worried that there was more to her appearance than that.

Three more robed attendants followed her onto the stage and began to help her up onto the Y-shaped table.

“Evvy!” Laurel couldn’t restrain herself any longer. “Wake up! Get your wits about you!”

Evvy looked over towards Laurel briefly. “Oh! Hi!” she said in a sing-song voice. Laurel had seen that look on Evvy’s face before. It was arousal that had her so distracted. They had given her a strong aphrodisiac.

Suddenly, Laurel realized that the overseer was standing over her. “Laurel, once again, I must request your silence.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Laurel said submissively, yet her eyes fixed defiantly on the overseer’s.

“Chain the thief to the pole in the square!” Harriet had joined the overseer.

“You are a fucking, lying cur!” Laurel whispered, spit spraying from her lips.

“Silence!” the overseer said. “Both of you! Or there will be two poles in the square with chained Wom.”

Harriet turned towards the overseer for a second frowning. Then she turned back to Laurel, shrugged and smiled. “Hmmpf!” she grunted and turned back toward the Y-shaped table where Evvy was now reclining with a leg on each limb of the Y and the heavy wooden box positioned beneath her widespread crotch.

Laurel placed her hand over her mouth again. She could see that Evvy’s vaginal lips were swollen and glistening with expectation.

Two of the robed figures began to wrap Evvy’s ankles with coarse rope securing her legs to the table. Another Wom stood behind the table slowly pulling on Evvy’s braided ponytail, forcing her to lie back. Laurel grunted again when she realized that the Wom gripping Evvy’s hair was none other than Taipan. Her face was blotchy. Tears were silently running down her face. No doubt, her mother, Harriet, was forcing her to participate in the ritual. On each side, a Wom grasped one of Evvy’s bound fists and pulled them out and away from her body horizontally, holding her down.

The overseer reclaimed her place at the center of the stage. She said softly, quickly: “Summon the escorts of the Hollow Well to take Evvy until the Key Maiden sees fit to release us all. Open the box! Present the Wom!” The overseer stepped off to the side to provide a clear view of Evvy to all the spectators.

Evvy must have had a distant sense of what was going on. She fought to sit up, but was quickly pulled back down as Taipan tightened her grip on Evvy’s hair. Evvy’s chest began to rise and fall quickly and erratically.

Harriet and another robed Wom grasped the lid of the heavy box, and with some effort, lifted the top off, gently placing it on the floor before them. The orbs hanging about the room casting light to all corners seemed to dim and flicker for a moment before settling. A second later, Laurel felt a twinge deep in her core with a pulse of tingling shivers radiating out through her body. She felt her nipples harden and her sex began to engorge with blood. She dropped her hand from her mouth to cover her breasts, silently cursing their reaction.

Two Wom approached Evvy, one from each side, kneeling on the floor. They began to lightly stroke the skin of Evvy’s chest and abdomen slowly circling their way up Evvy’s breasts until gently flicking her taut nipples. The two Wom seemed to be practiced at their task and their movements seemed almost a dance of sort. Evvy’s chest rose and fell more deeply each moment as their light touch turned to a caress and occasional nips and pinches stirring blood within Evvy until the skin of her torso began to blush a soft red.

As if on cue, Harriet and the second box bearer knelt at each side of Evvy’s hips, reaching and each drawing a finger up the insides of Evvy’s thighs before meeting and lightly passing over her swollen sex.

Until that point the silence had been palpable as though not a single witness dared to utter a sound, or even move. But at the moment that Evvy’s manipulator’s two hands met and brushed across her sex, Evvy let forth a single throaty, moan which echoed through the hall. As the moan hung in the air, Laurel felt her sex grip suddenly in desire, heightened perhaps by the familiarity of the voice producing the sound. It was not just she, though, who had felt the frisson, for she saw the bodies of all the Wom around her jerk forward and sway suddenly in synchronization.

Moments later a second solitary moan echoed through the hall matching the first in pitch and volume. This second though was not from Evvy, but instead came from someone in the crowd. Evvy’s voice responded again, somewhat broken and desperate. Laurel saw Evvy’s feet flex and watched her arms strain against the Wom who held her down. The motions of Evvy’s manipulators had assumed greater depth and the dance of hands across her flesh pulled and probed to a greater degree.

Throughout the hall more and more onlookers became taken by the spectacle, echoing Evvy’s cries, adding a constant growing chorus of voices which soon began to even drown out Evvy’s desperate calls. Only as fingers began to pinch and pull at her nipples, could staccato bursts of half restrained screams be heard above the rising din, punctuated by thrusts of Evvy’s chin.

Soon, Harriet and her partner held Evvy open wide, with three or four fingers thrusting deep. A thumb pushing lubrication up along the underside of her engorged clit. Evvy’s eyes opened briefly, though unseeing now, blinded by arousal. Time was short for her now. Laurel knew this. Her lover was lost. Still, Laurel opened her mouth to call her back from the edge of orgasm, to calm her. Laurel felt her own voice vibrate within her chest, but she was incapable of words. She was merely adding to the swelling host of voices captured and corralled in a spiritual lust, incapable of directed expression. Indeed, her own body jerked and swayed towards Evvy, towards the open casket positioned below Evvy’s sex, towards the channel to the Hollow Well.

In a violent seizure that threatened to topple the Wom holding Evvy’s bound arms, Evvy’s back arched, her head thrown back, mouth open wide. Those at her breasts gripped her nipples and pulled up sharply, her clit restricted between another’s fingers and, beneath, a gush of fluid from within, around Harriet’s hand. Evvy let forth a shrieking scream which soon was taken by the onlookers and echoed with reverence until even that started to become drowned by a tremendous roar.

Laurel felt a wind grow from behind her, pushing her towards the open casket, her hair flapping into her eyes. She fell upon the edge of the stage and felt the weight of others falling into her from behind. The manipulators, their robes flapping violently, grasped for handholds on the table where Evvy was bound. Candles throughout the hall flashed out and streamers of smoke rushed from the candle tips up onto the stage. Even the orbs illuminating the hall from above began to stretch and streaks of light flashed down between Evvy’s legs and into the open casket like an endless vacuum lay within, a hole into which everything would eventually descend.

The wind quickly grew to a roaring gale, and soon, the lid of the casket, which had been set in front of the table began to skip around from corner to corner until it suddenly shot up into the air, flipping like a flat stone several times before coming down with a loud bang perfectly sealing the casket of the Hollow Well. The deafening roar immediately attenuated and the clatter of refuse petered out shortly after leaving an eerie silence.

For a moment, no one even moved except Evvy, whose chest thrust and contracted violently as she fought to regain her breath. Finally, the overseer stepped to the front of the stage and quietly said, “Until the Key Maiden releases us all…”

That was all the signal that Laurel needed to act. She jumped up on the stage and pushed Harriet aside from where she stood holding the table. Laurel began unwrapping one of Evvy’s ankles. “Come on, Laurel,” she whispered to herself as she frantically unravelled the bindings. “Move faster…”

Harriet stepped up close behind her. “Run, run, run!” she taunted in a sing-song voice. “The demons of the Hollow Well are after you!”

Laurel was not listening. She had already moved to Evvy’s other ankle binding. When she finished there, she quickly wrapped Evvy’s arm over her shoulders and pulled Evvy to her feet. Taipan had collapsed in a heap on the floor behind Evvy, her back was shaking, her arms draped across her head. Laurel only took enough time to spit on her before lifting Evvy enough to walk with her. Harriet simply laughed.

Evvy’s head was flopping from side to side. “Oh, Laurel! I feel so good,” she giggled.

Once Laurel had Evvy standing she looked up at the crowd in the council hall, hundreds of eyes watching to see what would happen next.

“We’re running! Get out of the way!” Laurel screamed.

She held up one of Evvy’s arms and looked for the closest exit. “She can shoot fireballs!” Laurel screamed shaking Evvy’s balled and bound hand in the direction she wanted to go. The bluff worked sufficiently so that a small path opened and Laurel began dragging Evvy along.

As Laurel attempted to usher Evvy through the crowd, people began to swarm around them once again reaching for an opportunity to touch Evvy. It was thought that touching a Wom condemned to the Hollow Well brought about good luck. In the excitement of the moment with all the adrenaline, unfortunately, the touches quickly turned to particularly harsh slaps. And so, Evvy’s mind-addled giggling was punctuated with short cries of pain. Laurel had to start using her elbows and fists to make her way through the thickening crowds who were delivering open-handed slaps where ever they could.

Her progress was fueled by a growing hatred for all these people who had been friends and family for so long. She felt betrayed. How could they be so fickle as to discard Evvy? She had been in the community for over a hundred years! Soon, she would be gone forever! And all that these people cared for was the chance to say, “I touched Evvy when she was condemned.”

Laurel was determined to do anything in her power to save Evvy. If that meant running to the ends of time, then that is what Laurel would do.

Night had taken full control as Laurel fell through the external door of the council hall. She quickly broke away from the crowd and began to jog with Evvy stumbling behind. “Can’t we stop, Laurel,” Evvy complained. “Let’s fuck!”

Laurel flinched and let out a loud roar as they passed the cage where Shonsay, or whoever possessed her body, crouched shivering in fear. On a whim, Laurel continued on past where Solace was tied in favor of another target. Nearby, she saw Sulfa, Harriet’s favorite horse - a particularly strong specimen, already saddled.

It was a bit of effort to get Evvy, who kept pawing at Laurel’s clothes with her useless fists, to climb up on Sulfa’s back.

“Shit, Laurel! Harriet is going to be pissed that you stole her horse,” Evvy laughed as she finally settled backwards in the saddle.

“Won’t she ever,” Laurel whispered as she jumped up on to Sulfa and reached for the reins. Evvy slouched into Laurel’s arms, her head falling onto Laurel’s shoulder as Laurel directed Sulfa out onto the trail to Flint’s place and kicked her up to a gallop.

     <>--+-

Twenty minutes later, Laurel was passing through the gates of Flint’s compound. Evvy had fallen asleep (or perhaps simply passed out). Her body was limp in Laurel’s arms and every step caused Evvy’s head to bounce around on Laurel’s shoulder. It had been very difficult to hold on to Sulfa’s reins, hold on to Evvy, and keep Evvy’s hair from flapping in Laurel’s face.

The path was hard enough to follow in the darkness at the speed that they were moving. Laurel had to trust in the horse’s senses. Regardless, they had almost been scraped off the back of Sulfa more than once by low hanging tree branches.

In addition, shadows had become more animated in Laurel’s imagination. She was certain that any moment the demons of the Hollow Well would pounce from any direction. Laurel had no idea even what form the demons would take. For all she knew, perhaps the demons were the trees or the road itself.

Flint and several of her lovers and friends were waiting when Laurel rode up. They had lit an area around the side of a small barn with bright orbs suitably illuminating the area. The Wom stood around a spartan tower from which a particularly large pig was hanging, head down. The pig had been gutted and it’s snout was covered in dark red, blood which was steadily flowing into a heavy steel box set upon sturdy wheels.

Several Wom ran up and pulled Evvy’s unconscious body from the horse.

“I assume Harriet will be asking me about her horse,” Flint said with a dry laugh as she held a hand out for Laurel to dismount.

“I thought I’d save you a horse,” Laurel said.

“All that matters is that we do what we can for Evvy,” Flint said. She then turned to the other Wom holding Evvy. “Try and revive her, quickly. I’m sure that Harriet won’t be far behind.”

“Yeah,” Laurel said, “I’m not really worried about her. So, how is this ‘run’ supposed to work?”

Flint pulled out a harness and, with Laurel’s help, began to buckle it around Sulfa.

“No one knows exactly how this is supposed to work, but…” Flint did not finish her thought. “The combination of the pig’s blood and the steel trunk should mask Evvy’s presence from the demons. She should stay in the trunk at all times.”

Laurel glanced over at the trunk and could see that Evvy would be quite cramped inside. It would not be a particularly comfortable ride for her. Particularly since the trunk was filled to the brim with dark, red blood.

“I mean to say…” Flint continued. “You shouldn’t even open the trunk… At all…”

Two Wom pulled the wheeled trunk from under the hanging pig, up a ramp onto the flat bed of a sulky.

“Now, don’t run in circles,” Flint said as she pushed Sulfa around to hitch her to the sulky. “Choose a direction and stick to it. Cross as many mountain ridges and rivers as you can. Don’t turn back! If you want to save Evvy, just go! And don’t stop!”

Laurel heard Evvy cough and sputter. She clumsily swung her bound fists around, batting at the two Wom bent over her, attending to her. They quickly caught Evvy’s arms and pulled her to her feet again. Her eyes were open wide. She still seemed drugged, but there was also a flicker of fear in her eyes. She was beginning to realize her situation.

Flint and Laurel helped the others guide Evvy up to the trunk.

“Wha…? No!” Evvy screamed.

Flint grabbed Evvy’s chin and looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry, Evvy. This is the only way.” She leaned forward and kissed Evvy on the lips, then helped raise one of Evvy’s legs  over the edge of the trunk.

As the Wom pushed Evvy into the trunk, blood sloshed over the side and splattered around Laurel’s feet.

“I’ll miss you two,” Flint said. “May the Key Maiden bless you.”

The Wom forced Evvy’s second leg over the side and began to push her down into the pool of blood.

“Wait! Please!” Evvy screamed in a weak, shaky voice. “What is this?”

“We’re going to run, Evvy!” Laurel said. She stepped up to Evvy, stamping out a sickening sensation that she would never see her lover again. “Kiss me!”

Evvy’s eyes gained some semblance of focus and she feebly wrapped her arms around Laurel. Her lips were so soft. Laurel held Evvy’s head in her hands and looked into her eyes. “We’re going to run. I swear I will keep you out of the Hollow Well! I swear it!”

Evvy shook her head back and forth. Tears began to roll down her face.

“No!” Laurel screamed. “Listen to me! We’re going to beat this! I won’t let them take you!”

“I… I’m so sorry,” Evvy cried.

Laurel tucked Evvy’s head to her shoulder. “Shh! We’re going to beat this! I love you, Evvy! I love you!”

“You guys need to get moving,” Flint said, gently tapping Laurel.

“I love you, too,” Evvy whispered as she began to crouch into the blood filled trunk. “Wait! My hands!” Evvy held up her arms. The leather bags that held her hands in tight fists were still locked securely around her wrists.

“No time, Laurel. You guys need to run!” Flint shouted.

“Don’t worry, my love,” Laurel said and she pushed Evvy down into the trunk. Evvy settled into the sloshing blood, tilting her face up to Laurel. Soon only the small oval of her face was above the line of blood. Evvy’s mouth opened gasping for breath as Flint’s helpers lowered the lid of the trunk.

Evvy was shaking now and a small stream of blood sloshed into her mouth. “No!” she cried as the lid sealed shut.

Laurel staggered back to the ground watching numbly as the helpers snapped a number of buckles closed. Flint slid a heavy lock through a thick hasp on the trunk. A ratcheting sound reported as the lock was engaged.

Flint handed a stout key to Laurel. “Here! Don’t lose the key. This lock is one of Anya’s. It’s the only kind that Kel has been unable to pick.”

Laurel took the key, finally breaking her gaze away from the small trunk that held her lover. “Do you have a second lock like this?” she asked Flint.

“I thought you’d want another,” Flint said as she reached in her pocket, pulling out a second lock and key as well as a thick metal collar. Flint took the key to Evvy’s trunk and slid the ring end around the metal collar. Laurel held her hair out of the way as Flint locked the collar and trunk key around Laurel’s neck.

“OK. Same applies to that lock,” Flint said, holding the collar key out to Laurel.

“I don’t want there to be any chance that I get separated from Evvy’s key, Flint. You keep it.”

Flint continued to hold it out. “You two shouldn’t ever come back.”

“You keep it,” Laurel repeated and turned to mount Sulfa. “Flint? How long?”

“Just keep riding, Laurel,” Flint said grabbing Sulfa by the bridle and guiding her towards the gate with the sulky and Evvy’s trunk in tow.

“How long does Evvy need to stay in the trunk? Ten days?” Laurel asked. “A moon?”

“I’ve sent Charis ahead to the river. She’s making sure that the ferry is waiting for you. Run, Laurel!”

“How long, Flint!? More than a moon?”

“Fuck, Laurel! I don’t know! Just run! Don’t fucking stop! Run!” Flint swatted Sulfa’s haunches sending Laurel through the gate.

Laurel’s throat was clenched with fear; she was hyperventilating - her wheezing masked by the clatter of the sulky behind carrying her lover in a trunk full of blood away from Blint and into the darkness.