"Hard Lessons (part 1)" by Tiffany J. Dunn

Tethyn held his breath and looked around the corner, trying not to attract any attention. A young girl peered anxiously up and down the hallway before opening the door she was standing in front of. 'Don't do it,' Tethyn silently breathed, willing the girl to hear his warning. That was Roltan's room. No one went into Roltan's room, especially the daughter of the man Roltan himself had killed. The girl stopped her hand for a moment, turning her face towards the hallway where Tethyn stood, barely breathing. Apparently satisfied, she looked back at the door and silently opened it a crack, slipping her thin form inside.

With a moan, Tethyn hurried after her, making his own cursory check to be sure no one else was watching. 'At least she has good timing,' he thought. Everyone was downstairs right now, gorged on food and ale, and neither would be missed much. He slipped into the dark room after her, catching the dim light of a candle to his left. The sounds of softly moving feet and the scraping of opening and closing drawers drifted to him, underlain by the waxy smell of the candle.

"Tatianna," he whispered quietly. The searching continued in the other room, and he moved closer to call out her name again. "Tatianna? What are you doing?" The girl froze in place, her hand shoving some glinting object behind her back.

"Tethyn? Nothing. Cleaning. I thought, maybe, since Master Roltan wasn't here I'd...surprise him."

He shook his head and held out his hand. "Don't lie to me Tatianna. Do you know what he will do if he finds you here? It's dangerous. Put whatever that is away and come with me." He beckoned her towards him, hoping the headstrong girl would listen. Even he, the closest thing Roltan had to a friend, would not be able to save her from his leader's drunken wrath if they were caught.

"Please, Tethyn. Just go. I won't tell. I'll leave in just a bit. You know they're all down there anyway," she pleaded with him. 'Seven years old,' he thought to himself. 'Seven years old and already she tempts death. I hope she lives to see eight.'

"Urtoth's fang, Tatianna, don't push your luck."

"Please, Tethyn. You're only making it worse." Her tiny chin jutted out. "I'm not afraid."

"Dragon's blood!" His whispers were nearly normal speaking level now, and he forced himself to drop his voice. "You tempt Fates that you know nothing of. Now leave, or you will force me to serve my loyalties."

"And not your heart?" She watched him with her golden eyes. 'Seven years old,' he repeated again, 'You are twenty-four. Do not let her childish games fool you.' Ah, but those eyes. That was what he had first seen when he had found her crammed beneath the staircase, hiding. Those eyes had seen her own family slaughtered in front of her. Her father, her mother, her older brother. Tethyn regretted those eyes. They reminded him of his part in her pain.

"Please, little Yana. I am trying to help you as best I can. But do not test my loyalties," he repeated, holding out a callused hand once more. "Please come with me, now."

She hid her face from him for a moment, and beneath the fall of blonde hair that separated them he heard, "no."

Tethyn's shoulders sagged in defeat. What could he do? Roltan would find out. And he would know, he always knew somehow, where Tethyn was, and that it was his doing that Tatianna got away with this, no matter how small. And then they would both be punished. While Tethyn feared for his own health, the thought of what Roltan might do to the child made his insides quiver. The feeling was familiar to the time, three years ago, that Tethyn had brought Yana before his leader, begging him to spare her life. He still didn't know why he did it, but the mere idea of letting her be killed with the others repulsed him. She was so young. Young and foolish. Everyday he wished he'd left her where she was, to be found by one of Roltan's other followers, and taken care of by them. He did not want the responsibility of watching out for the impetuous girl. He admired her spirit, but he hated what it did to her. He almost wished she would finally break and serve Roltan quietly, without any more arguments or insults. Tethyn knew the leader was at his limit, and this single act would be more than enough to send him over the edge. He had already deprived her of so much food and sleep that, anymore, she was merely a set of bones barely protected by skin.

"Then you force my hand. I must tell Roltan. Perhaps, in his drunken stupor, we can come up with something that will get you off with minor punishment." Tethyn's mind was already going over the possibilities. She had had wine, too, and was lost in the hallways, confused. Or perhaps he was trying to keep her occupied with a simple game of Hide And Find, and she had chosen this place to hide. No, Roltan would laugh him out of the group for that.

"Tethyn," her high voice pierced his internal reverie. "You don't have to tell him. We can keep it a secret. Please. You know what he'll do if he finds out." Her voice choked in fear. 'A child should not be afraid like that,' his conscience reprimanded him. He knew already what he would do. He would protect her, as he had protected her in the past.

"I know," he whispered as comfortingly as he could. "I know. I won't tell him. I swear. But we must leave, now."

She jerked her head upwards, the candle's light flickering with the sudden movement. "Do you mean it?"

"Yes. Now come on!" Her tear-stained cheeks made him angry. Angry at himself, and Roltan, and her. She turned and replaced whatever it was she was going to steal, then quietly shut the drawer. She reached out to take his hand, when he was suddenly grabbed on the shoulder and yanked backward. Falling to his back, he caught sight of her thin hands reaching out for him before a sharp pain exploded in his head and he swam into unconsciousness.

Blinding lights speared Tethyn's brain as he opened his eyes. He felt as though something was pulsating inside his head, trying to beat it's way out of his skull. "Urgh...ah" His lips couldn't keep shape long enough to form words, and a line of drool itched its way down his chin.

"TETHYN!" someone shouted into his ear.

Tethyn screamed in pain, falling back against whatever was supporting him. He caught his breath after several seconds, and tried to concentrate. Where in Teria was he? And where was Yana?

"Ah good," the same voice repeated, softer. "You're awake."

"Ngh..." He gave up trying to speak, instead tuning into his body, feeling his hands tied together behind him. Yes, he was lashed to a post, he could feel its coarseness against his bare skin. He had been stripped, he could feel the air hitting his flesh, but it was warm and still and thick with incense and the smells of food and drink. The dining hall, he guessed. He gave opening his eyes another try, very, very slowly. Cracking them open enough to see, he took in a sharp breath at the scene before him. He was at one end of the dining table, standing up, tied to a post. To his side he made out the swarthy, cross features of Roltan, and the vague forms of his fellows were scattered in chairs or standing nearby along the length of the table. At the other end was another post, and this one Yana was tied to. She was crying softly, but still glared around her. Tethyn sighed and closed his eyes again, unable to bear looking at her small form any longer. 'This is my fault.'

"Stay awake, my friend," the deep voice continued, just shy of a bellow. Roltan's breath was hot and rancid. Tethyn fought back the urgings of his stomach, gulping down breaths of air to calm himself. "You're just in time for the punishment."

"Wha-whargh..." Tethyn forced his eyes open again and saw the 'blinding lights' were merely torches spaced along the walls. They split his head in two, but he kept his gaze on Roltan.

"Little Tatianna's punishment, of course. She was caught stealing, by you. You are such a dear friend, Tethyn." Roltan belched into the other man's face. "Lying, traitorous, son of a Dragon," the leader hissed softly. "You will surely burn by Urtoth's fire when you die. But before then...before then I have punishment enough for you." Roltan snapped his meaty fingers and strode to the other side of the table. On either side of Tethyn appeared two men, men who's names he couldn't quite place at the moment, blocked out as they were by the cacophony in his brain. One on each side held him in place, and the others stood quietly by, their postures speaking of tension.

"Little Tatianna of House Milankal. You have been caught stealing. Do you know what the punishment for stealing is?" He eyed the girl before answering his own question, "You receive five lashes." Roltan's voice rolled over the audience to Tethyn. His thoughts were having trouble forming, but bitter disgust coursed eagerly through him. 'Seven years old,' floated to the front of his brain. "However, you seem to have an accomplice in this. So as a...gift to you, we will split the lashes between you and Tethyn. Two for him, and three for you, since it was your idea." The two men holding Tethyn undid his hands, and he was spun around and tied face-to-pole before he had time to think. His back chilled at the realization of what his mind was slowly coming to understand. They were going to do it. Seven years old. The room fell utterly silent, and Tethyn made out the sounds of boots walking into the room from somewhere behind him.

"Milord," someone muttered quietly. The bearer was dismissed with a guttural snarl, and then it was quiet again. His body grew rigid in anticipation, arms straining against the ties that bound him to the post, the wood poking a splinter into his lip gently. He wondered how much it would hurt, when there was sudden movement behind him and he felt the stinging kiss of the lash against his back. He didn't feel the pain until the crack thundered in his ears, and he cried out, his wail piercing as a baby's. The ache pushed him into the pole, and he shuddered against it, driving the splinters deeper into his skin. His lip felt almost pleasant compared to his back. He heard crying and felt tears fall against his cheeks. Roltan's laughter tingled down the lash's mark.

"STOP PLEASE!" Tethyn thought it was himself before he realized it was Tatianna.

"Oh no," he breathed.

"I hate you!! I hate you! I hope Urtoth tortures you for a thousand thousand years you coward!" The last word was nearly wrenched out of her throat.

"TURN HER AROUND!" Roltan thundered. Tethyn's tears fell faster as he struggled to free himself. One of the men nearby smacked him across the back and he collapsed against the pole again. He couldn't let this happen. But his arms and mouth failed him, and he tasted blood as he bit down on his tongue at the first crack of the lash. There was a child's scream, so eerily pure that the room grew still. Tethyn could hear Yana's sobbing and moaning, and he was surprised she was still conscious. As the moments grew into seconds, he wondered if even Roltan would see his own folly. But his hopes were shattered by the noise, louder than the shouts of a thousand men, as it tore into her weakened flesh. Twice more the lash spoke, although the cries and screams were gone after the second time. "There," Roltan announced in a hoarse voice. "Five lashes between them." Tethyn leaned against the pole and wept.