Caged Birds-03
- Caged Birds-03
- by xenaRRa
To Kelley without whom this would have remained only a dream.
All characters in this work are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
This work may not be reproduced in any form without the express permission of the author.
Copyright 1989 by K. Xenarra Brown.
CHAPTER THREE
A small girl sat huddled in a ball on a coarse mattress clutching a very worn and dirty rag doll. She spoke softly to the doll, carrying on a very one sided conversation. An outsider would have had a difficult time deciphering the garbled childish prattle that was the girl's speech. But the girl knew that her 'aby could understand every word perfectly.
"This bed makes me itch. I would scratch, but it wouldn't help. I already tried. At least it's clean straw. I helped make up the ticking today. We burned the old straw, mum and me. It was dirty and full of bugs."
"I help mum a lot. You know I do, 'aby. A least I try. I'm pretty little, and I don't always understand what they ask me to do, but I try real hard. Mum, she usually says it's ok. Dad, he usually hits me pretty hard. He says it will knock some sense into me. I'm not sure what that means, but it sure hurts."
"There's lots I don't understand, I guess. Like tonight, my mum and dad were talking after they thought I'd gone to sleep."
"I spoke with the mistress up at the house today," my daddy said. "She said she wants Krea to come up there to work. Said she saw the girl playing and liked her looks. I think she should go."
" 'Aby, my mum said no, but my dad, he kept right on talking."
"It wouldn't be so bad if Krea was a boy," my dad said. "Or if she was taller. Or if she could talk straight. But we're never going to get rid of her. Nobody'd ever want to marry her. The only way is to send her off to that woman at the big house. They'll pay a bit for her, I guess. And she can work there. She'll have meals and a place to live all her life. I'll take her there tomorrow." My mum started to say something, but she was cut off. "I've already promised that lady that she'd have our girl tomorrow," my dad said.
"My mum was all crying when he said that, 'Aby. She said I was too little to go. But daddy got angry, and hit her up the side of the head and told her to shut up, woman, he'd do what was right for his family. Then it got quiet, except for mum's crying and dad's snores. " 'Aby, I don't really know what to do. I know dad's going to send me away somewhere and mum doesn't want me to go. I guess I'll just have to run away tonight."
The figure which slipped from the tiny hovel carrying only a worn blanket and the ragged doll was almost impossible to spot in the moonlight. She slid along one side of the house, then struck off resolutely for the woods. The courage of a six-year-old can be awesome. Facing the dark unknown was a scary prospect, but not half as scary as being sent away from home forever.
Krea had lived all her life on the edge of the forest. To actually penetrate its depths and survive alone proved another thing entirely. She wandered around for an hour or more, always moving generally away from her home and the known area, until she found a hollow stump. She crawled into the tree trunk, brushing the sawdust and bugs ahead of her until she had enough space to lie down comfortably. She rested her head on her doll, held her blanket firmly with one hand, and drifted off into the sleep of innocence.
Ordinarily, Krea wouldn't have been missed for a day or more. Her family, recognizing her uselessness, generally allowed her to roam where ever and when ever she chose. But that particular day, Krea's disappearance meant time lost while her parents tracked her down. Neither enjoyed the task, but for very different reasons. As the day wore on and they were unable to locate the girl in time to take her to her new home, her father grew more and more angry while her mother became increasingly relieved.
When darkness fell and there was still no sign of Krea, both parents began to worry. They sent a message to the mistress of the manor, begging her forgiveness and explaining the situation. The returning message instructed them to wait at home in case the child returned. Everything would be alright, they were assured. They had no way of knowing that the Lady Katriena had sent out a general alarm and a reward for the return of the child.
The woods were quiet during the day. Krea had spent enough time among the wild animals to know how to move without making a disturbance. Whenever she became hungry, she found some berries and ate them. It wasn't much, but it was only a little less food than she had been receiving at home. Whenever she was lonely, she would talk to her doll, or to the animals which came to be petted. She made friends in her own quiet way, friends who were very forgiving of her small size. Friends who could understand the language of her gentle nature regardless of the words she spoke.
Her wanderings took her far from her home, so far that she couldn't have found her way back had she tried. Things were generally fine, however, and she could have survived on her own at least until the winter had she not been found.
She had fallen asleep one afternoon by a brook. She slept so soundly that she didn't hear the men blundering through the underbrush leading their horses until they were upon her.
"Oh, Ho!" one of them exclaimed. "What have we here?"
"Must be a little bird, Jock" another laughed. "Someone left us a little bird to play with." The men dismounted and tethered their mounts to nearby trees.
"Go 'way," the girl said, rubbing her still sleepy eyes. "Go 'way."
"The bird talks, Bert," the first said. "She must be a parrot. I wonder what kind of feathers she has?" The big man reached for Krea. She scooted out from under his grasp, and scrambled to her feet. Looking around, she saw that she faced not two, but four men. Each looked enormous to her, dirty and unshaven, she could smell alcohol and a warm scent she had only smelled in her parents' bed. Something in their eyes made her distrust them. They circled her slowly, closing in a bit at a time, laughing and joking and deadly serious.
"Go 'way," she wailed, blocked at every turn as she tried to escape. "I nindn't new nothin' Go 'way!"
"If you didn't do nothing, why are you out here all by yourself, little bird?" Jock said.
"I runned 'way," Krea said before she caught herself.
"You did?" the big man persisted, reaching for her as he spoke but missing as she dodged away. "I think this little bird is the one we've been looking for, don't you?"
The other men growled an affirmative, then all four sprang for Krea at the same time. She tried to run, tried to fight, but one small girl against four grown men is sadly outnumbered. In no time at all, she was held by the arms against one man's sweaty trousers while the others looked on. The man in the center of the group had not spoken, yet he seemed in charge.
"Tie her up so she won't escape. I want that reward," he growled.
"Aw, can't we pluck the little bird's feather, first, Fredrick?" Jock asked. "After all, who's to say we were the first to find her?"
The leader considered the idea as Krea struggled against her captor. She finally managed to twist her lithe body around and landed a particularily well-placed kick which brought the man who held her to his knees. Unfortunately, he didn't lose his grip on her arms, but he did lose his temper.
"This little bitch needs a lesson in manners, Fredrick, and I'm going to give it to her just as soon as I recover." Jock said, "Maybe one of you other sports would like to start off."
Fredrick, though nominally in charge, recognized when it would be more prudent to cooperate with the larger man. "Well, if you can hold her still," he began, "I guess we could see what color feathers this bird has."
"Watch out for her feet, Fred, she's a vicious one." her captor said ruefully.
Krea continued to fight against the hands that held her. When she found that she was not able to break free, she lowered her head and bit one of the hands that held her. Like a weasel, she hung on, drawing blood and curses from the man who relaxed his grip on her body in an attempt to release his hand.
But as soon as she had broken free of the first, another took control. Crude hands tore the ragged clothing from her body and bound her hands with the shreads. More of the cloth was stuffed into her mouth as a gag. When the men finished, they stood facing a very young, very defiant child, who, though totally restricted in her movements, looked as though she could have whipped wildcats.
"By damn, I'm going to teach that one a lesson she won't forget," Jock said as he attempted to fashion a bandage to arrest the bleeding of his hand.
"No, Jock, you can't," said Fredrick, "She's nothing but a child."
"The hell I can't," Jock said as he reached into his trousers and brought forth his large, erect penis. The sight of it frightened Krea, and she began to cry. Her muffled sobs wracked her body; but the big man paid no attention as he spread her legs roughly and began to finger the warm spot hidden there. He probed insistantly searching for an entrance, ignoring Krea's struggles against him, but was unable to find an opening large enough to insert even his finger. "Goddamn freak," he muttered as he pushed her away.
Krea was caught by the fourth man, the one who hadn't spoken. He was an ugly, misshappen man with vacant-looking eyes. "What's the matter, Jock," he whined, "Don't you like her?"
"No, Benny, I don't. She's not built like a woman," he answered gruffly.
"But Jock, just fuck her here," Benny replied, and, bringing forth his penis, upended the frightened girl and drove it into her ass.
Krea had never experienced such raw pain before. The intensity of the searing anguish continued on and on as the grotesque man rammed his cock in and out of her body. Unable to understand what was happening, Krea screamed out her agony through the rag stuffed in her mouth. The man held her tightly and drove upward one more time, dumping his load into her tiny frame. He set her down and wiped the semen from his still solid prick with his shirttail.
"See, Jock, Benny can do it. You try. You try it. It's fun."
"Benny," Fredrick began, "where did you learn to do that? I didn't even think you knew how."
Suddenly self-conscious, the unsightly man quickly rebuttoned his pants and scuffed his shoe in the dirt. "I didn't do nuthin'," he said sullenly. "Nuthin' I didn't use to do to the sheep back at my dad's. Dad used to say, what good are they if you can't fuck 'em. So, I used to fuck 'em in the ass. I just figured that I could fuck her the same way. Dumb old girl, anyway," he finished as he launched a vicious kick at Krea.
Her body tightly rolled into a ball, Krea hardly noticed the kick as it landed. The sticky liquid which had been forced into her body burned like fire as it dribbled out past her bleeding anus. Her insides felt as though someone had moved them around with a hot poker. The filthy ground under her naked body added to her misery. Tears ran down her cheeks, leaving trails in the dirt.
Krea did not have a clue as to what was happening, only that one man had pushed her away before he hurt her and another had hurt her before he pushed her away. Her crying had become hysterical. Had the men removed her gag, all they would have heard was "Mum, Mum, Mum, Mum," as Krea begged her unseen protector to come forth.
"Give her her clothes back and put her up on Bert's horse," Fredrick said. Jock tossed the remains of her dress to the girl and cut her hands free. Krea clutched her clothing to her, trying to protect her body from their eyes, eyes which seemed to watch her every move.
"Get up, freak," Jock said as he aimed a kick her direction. The heavy boot never met resistance, however, for Krea rolled away and struggled to her feet. She slipped the rags over her head and tried to smooth them into place. Like her body, her clothing had been torn irrepairably. She found her blanket and doll. Clutching them tightly in one hand, she went back to smoothing her dress, wishing the hurt away by totally ignoring her surroundings. The men had no time for such foolish behavior, however, and quickly mounted up, Bert reaching for and plucking her up from the ground only to plant her firmly in the front of his saddle.
She whinced at the pain as he sat her down firmly, fire lighting her bottom anew. She started to struggle, but stopped as Bert wrapped his arms around her and bent his head down to her ear.
"Listen, little bird who ever you are, I didn't hurt you, and I'm not going to hurt you unless you fight me," he began. "Now you can fuss and struggle all you want. But that's only going to get you into more trouble. Or you can lean back against old Bert and enjoy the ride. Which is it going to be? Are you going to cause trouble for your old Bert?"
Krea could hear the man speaking softly in her ear. Most of what he said made little sense to her. But she understood the warmth of the voice. And she understood that he wouldn't hurt her. Unable to answer a question she didn't understand, she simple leaned back against the man and tried to lift her sore backside as far up from the saddle as possible.
"That's a good girl," Bert said, accepting her unspoken answer. He noticed her discomfort; and, guessing its cause, removed his bedroll from behind his saddle and slipped it under the girl's backside. Rough though it was, the blanket's extra padding eased the jarring of the saddle against Krea's bottom. The horses fell into a slow trot, unable to pass along the forest's narrow trails at a quicker pace. The rocking motion, though hard on the uninitiated, was gentle enough to lull Krea to sleep. As her grip on her prescious belonging loosened, Bert tied the blanket around her and slid the doll between the girl and the scrap of cloth.
When Krea awoke, it was dark. She was still atop Bert's horse, but Bert and the others were busily setting up a campsite for the night. Bert had removed the gag from her mouth as she slept, so when she lost her balance and fell, the men heard her cry out before she hit the ground with an impressive thud.
Still crying, Krea scuttled off into the underbrush. Not waiting for an order, Bert moved easily after her, allowing her to travel some distance from the others before grabbing her from behind and lifting her into his arms. She recognized his smell in the dark and threw her arms around his neck securely.
"Bert's going to protect you, 'long as you don't run away. If you misbehave, Bert can't help you. Just stay next to me, and do what you're told, and everything's going to be all right." The man started to stride back toward the fire. Krea nodded, then panicked and began to cry.
"What's wrong?" the man asked, stopping.
"My, my 'Aby." the girl managed to say, "where's my 'Aby?"
"Well, I don't know what an 'aby is, unless you mean your doll." He patted the thick spot under the blanket at her waist where the doll was hidden. "Don't take out your doll here, little one. These men are not the type to let you keep it. Likely they'd tear it up if they found it. Just leave it in the blanket, and you'll do all right."
'Don't wanna,' Krea wanted to say. Her body was sore, her tummy was empty, and she wanted her mum. But the man who held her had been good to her. She decided to do what he said, at least until she could run away again.
" 'Kay," she said, as her tears ceased flowing.
"That's the way," Bert said, and, dropping her gently to the ground, led her back to camp by the hand. "We'll have no more trouble from this one," he announced as they arrived. "I'll see to that."
"Well, see that you do," Jock growled. "It wouldn't take too much to bugger her myself. And I know Benny would take another turn, wouldn't you Benny?"
The homely man looked up from where he was building a fire. "Dumb girl. Dumb baby girl. Benny don't want no dumb baby girl."
"Well, never mind about that, she's going to give no one cause to want to punish her," Bert reassured the trio. "And she's sleeping with me tonight."
"Bert wants to fuck the dumb girl. Bert wants the dumb girl," Benny chanted in a sing-song voice. Leaving Krea on the edge of the camp, Bert crossed the clearing in three strides and struck Benny on the side of the head with his fist, knocking him to the ground and scattering the firewood everywhere. Benny, suddenly frightened, lay cowering on the ground where he fell.
"That'll be enough of that!" Fredrick's big voice filled the area. "Bert, find some twine or something and tie the girl up to a tree. Benny, get back to work on the fire. Nobody's going to mess with that girl tonight, and tomorrow we're going to go right to the mistress and turn her in for the reward. Now everybody, move!"
And so Krea spent an uncomfortable, but safe night tethered to a tree. Bert slipped her some bits of food, and gave her his blanket for the night, but basically she was alone, unhappy, and very confused. She slept fitfully, leaning against the rough bark. Her only consolation was her doll fastened firmly and invisibly against her side. If Benny or Jock wanted to take advantage of her, they were aparently put off by Bert's presence a scant three feet from the tree.
The first misty light of morning brought an unkind awakening to the little girl. For the first time since she left home, she felt as unclean as she was. The blood and semen had dried during the ride the day before, contributing an itchiness to the painful spots rubbed raw by the saddle. The ground she rested on was crawling with the insects common to the forest, tiny friends the day before who, attracted to the new smells of her body, had come to bite and sting, eager to take advantage of this new, delightful prey.
She jumped up and attempted to brush them from her body. Try as she might, she could not remove them all, and the stinging continued. She jumped up and down and ran in place, unable to leave the immediate vicinity of the tree. Crying as the bugs continued to extract their toll from her, she lost control of her bladder and the warm fluid ran down her legs.
"Goddamn it, Bert, do something or I will," Jock swore from where he lay on the ground, still huddled against the morning chill.
Jock rousted himself and walked over to Krea. The urine had washed the majority of the remaining insects from her body. Her frightened, tear-filled eyes peered out at him from under the tangles of her matted hair. She still twitched a bit as she tried to stiffle the remaining sniffles. Noting the welts on her arms and legs, Jock surmised what had happened and set about breaking the lines which held Krea prisoner.
"There," he said as the last tie snapped, "go over to the bucket and wash up a bit."
The tiny child slowly picked her way between the bedrolls and, finding the bucket, scooped a small amount up and patted the chilly water on her bites and sores. She continued removing minute amounts of water and dribbling it over her body until, caught up in the spirit, she began to play in the bucket. The water sloshed out in larger amounts, and the surrounding dirt soon turned to mud. Krea noticed the mud and began to play in it, making perfectly formed mud pies, mud cakes, and a large quantity of mud oatmeal. She didn't notice the men gathering around her until Fredrick spoke.
"Shit, Bert, can't you keep her out of trouble?" the leader demanded.
Bert lifted Krea and plopped her in the front of his saddle. "She's out of trouble now," he said as he mounted up. "I'm going ahead. Catch up to me if you want the reward." With that he swung his horse onto the trail and began to slowly walk away from the others. Krea could hear the men yelling at each other behind them, but she didn't care. She leaned back against Bert comfortably, feeling safe again.
Krea heard the other horses catch up to them, but she didn't mind. All she could think about was the question she wanted to ask Bert. Finally, she screwed up her courage and turned her head up to his face. "What's a 'ward, Bert?" she asked.
The man coughed and turned a bit red with the effort. "Just never mind about that," he said, and picked up the pace. Soon they were out of the woods and approaching a beautifully large house. There were a lot of people working all around, but Bert and the others rode right through them and up to the door of the house. î Fredrick dismounted and sauntered up to the man standing at attention at the door. "Tell the mistress that her property is here," he said.
"And what property might that be," the doorman asked rudely.
"Why the girl there," Fredrick answered. "Bert, bring the girl up here."
Bert jumped down from the horse, then lifted the dirty bundle of rags which was Krea down and stood her on the ground in front of him. He tried to push her forward, but she turned and grabbed his knees.
"None of that, girl," Fredrick said as he closed a vice-like grip on Krea's arm. He hustled her forward and thrust her at the guard. "There she is, now we want our reward," he demanded.
"This?" the guard said, holding Krea at arm's length with great distaste. "You want a reward for this?"
At that moment a great lady swept open the door, and stood quietly surveying the scene. The four men immediately removed their hats and lowered their eyes respectfully, but the officious guard continued to rail at the men.
"There is reason the mistress would want to see this, much less pay you money for it. I suggest you remove it and yourselves before you attract the wrong type of notice." He drew his arm back in preparation to propel Krea back to Fredrick but was stopped by an extremely frosty voice behind him.
"And what type of interest would be the wrong type? Please tell me. I'd like to know." The words came softly but with venom from the tall woman.
"I, I didn't mean anything, Mistress. I was just trying to keep the riff-raff from bothering you."
"I think I should have the chance to screen the, as you call them, riff-raff and make my own decisions, don't you?" The great green eyes flashed as she spoke.
"Ye-, yes, Mistress," the guard stammered as he backed away.
"Now, Fredrick," the lady turned to the leader. "What have you brought me?"
"This is the child, Mistress," Fredrick answered, clearly in awe. "We found her in the woods yesterday."
"And was she harmed, Fredrick?" the woman asked. "Did that great lout Benjamin touch her?" î "Well," Fredrick hesitated.
"There's no point in lying, Fredrick," she persisted. "You know I'll get the truth one way or another. Had you thought about the possibility of hanging from one of the windows until the birds picked the meat from your bones?"
"Well, there was some unpleasantness. But I kept it to a minimum. The goods isn't damaged much," he finished weakly.
"Your truthfulness has saved you and your men, Fredrick. I hope they appreciate you. Here," she said as she tossed a small bag to him. "You'll notice that only half the reward is there. Of course, only undamaged, as you say, goods, deserve a full reward. I think given your alternatives, you might see the wisdom of packing your boys up and leaving now."
Muttering but unwilling to risk the consequences, Fredrick caught the money and slipped it inside his tunic. He motioned to his men, and they mounted in petulant silence. Krea slumped a bit as her protector, Bert, rode away with the others. Having every intention of running away, she turned to study the woman who had so paralyzed the rugged men.
Towering above the servants around her, the Mistress was dressed in a heavy, red velvet dress. The full sleeves and skirt disguised the woman's true size. Her jet-black hair was piled in tight curls atop her head, further emphasizing her height. The eyes were softer now, but still contained enough fire to frighten the tiny figure before her. Krea knelt before the woman and bowed her head, unsure of what else to do.
"What is your name, child?" the woman asked.
" 'Rea, Miss'ress," the child lisped.
"Krea, is your name Krea?" the lady demanded.
"Yes, Miss'ress," the girl answered, " 'Rea."
The lady scowled at the words, then turned to a large, thick woman who appeared at her side soundlessly. The sturdy woman was dressed in simple clothes and a white apron. She looked at Krea with disgust.
"I can't have this filthy girl in my house. Take her and clean her," the Mistress ordered. "Bring her to me when you are done."
"Yes, Mistress," the strong woman said as she fastened an iron grip on Krea's arm. Krea looked up at the Mistress to protest. But all she saw, as the servant hustled her away, was the back of the beautiful crimson dress.
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