Broken Aro (The Broken Ones) Page 3

  She opened her eyes, straining them against the darkness. Had night fallen? Could that be why it was so dark? Her eyes slowly adjusted until she could make out vague shapes; the bars of the cell in the ships hold and darker shapes of people sitting before her in the small cell.

  She concentrated, squinting her eyes and counting. Six others shared the cell. Her brothers? "Paul?" The creak of the ship and the murmurs, curses, and sobs of the other captives in the hold almost drowned out her small voice.

  "Boy's awake," one of the shapes said. Definitely not one of her brothers.

  She stiffened. They'd called her boy. Even after all she'd been through, it was quite a blow to her self-esteem. She frowned in confusion for a moment, until she remembered. Her brothers had dressed her in their old clothes, old bits of armor that sort of fit. They'd even hacked off her long hair…

  She cursed them under her breath again for that. Then she almost smiled, remembering Sammy's face when he'd done it. Her brothers were such morons. They always had been. Yet they'd been stuck with raising her, and what did they know of girls? Her mother had died when she was four, and losing her hadn't been easy on any of them.

  Father had been a regiment Commander and away a lot. They'd all managed to take care of her somehow, the younger of her brothers watching over her until eventually they'd all joined the army. But she'd been twelve by the time the youngest of them had enlisted. She'd been able to take care of the house while they served their time on the border. They didn't worry about her much. The army wives had helped, keeping an eye on her for them.

  However, father had died two years ago at Demet's Pass. It had been hard, losing him. Harder than when mother had died because she hadn't been old enough then to know what it meant. Not seeing him at the head of their big old table, with his gentle smile, had been tough on all of them. It still was. It had been harder this past spring when her brothers had all ridden out again. Because death had become something real, she knew they might not come back.

  She was fifteen now. Not really a child anymore. So she had faked a smile and waved goodbye to them all when really fear had made her want to scream instead. They had all come home, but with an enemy army at their heels. They'd been afraid then, afraid for her. They knew things she didn't, things like what would happen to a young girl if the city fell. However, she wasn't a woman yet, not in appearance at any rate. Tall and gangly with no figure whatsoever. No wonder she could pass for a boy.

  "Boy."

  The man who had spoken before broke her thoughts. She must have been hit in the head hard for her mind to wander back into the past. She managed to croak an incoherent sound indicating she'd heard him.

  "You alive over there?"

  "Yes," she lied and waited. No one else spoke. No one came rushing to her side. Panic quickened her breath as fear sped her heart. Her brothers weren't here. If they had been they'd have harassed everyone to find out where she was. At least… they weren't on this boat. Unfortunately, the slavers had a whole fleet. They must be on another boat. She had to believe that. She closed her eyes tightly again. Yes, they'd been placed on another boat.

  Because if they weren't then they were all dead.

  A silent sob shook her when it sunk in she was alone. Curling into a tight ball, she covered her mouth with dirty hands, trying to stay quiet. Her brothers weren't here, quite likely they were dead. Tears slipped down her cheeks in a steady stream. Overwhelming fear shuddered through her body. Her life revolved around her family and her brothers. They were everything to her. Without them she didn't have anyone. Now, when she needed them the most, they weren't here. She would never see them again. Her heart sped up, banging against her chest so hard it hurt. Everything hurt. She couldn't breathe. Everything started spinning. Panic and hysteria overcame her, drenching her in darkness once again

  * * *

  The screaming wouldn't stop. She opened her gritty eyes, and brushed new tears away. The screams tore at her insides. She pulled her hands from her ears. They didn't block the sound much anyways. She sat up, wincing at the faint light. Her head throbbed painfully. Her stomach wasn't feeling too great either and the screams made it worse. People were laughing at the same time and she couldn't figure out why. It didn't make sense.

  She looked up to find all the men in the cell staring at her. When she'd sat up, she'd come out of the shadows. She lowered her eyes quickly, ducking her head so her shorn hair fell around her face even more. The ship lurched suddenly and she gritted her teeth when her stomach lurched with it.

  One of them sighed. She glanced up to see him jerk his head in the direction of the front of the ship. "They're just at the women again."

  They must have thought she'd looked sick because of the screams. She'd been getting to that, her brain had simply been working slower than normal.

  She almost did throw up when his words sank in. The women screaming, the slavers laughing, she knew what was happening. Though her brothers tried to keep her in the dark about certain things, she wasn't an idiot.

  Looking around the cell again, she scuttled further back into the corner and pulled her knees up, holding them tightly when she started to tremble.

  She'd been lucky. The slavers had thought she was a boy when they'd sorted out their new captives. She closed her eyes and rested her forehead on her knees. How long would her luck last before they realized she wasn't a boy? She couldn't do this. She didn't know how, she had no one to help her.

  She cringed at another tormented scream.

  The men started talking quietly again and she raised her head a little, peeking over her knees. Not all of them. Five of the men sat close together in the center of the small cell. Another sat over in the other corner, hiding in the shadows like her. She knew he was a man, just from what she could see of him. He looked tall and built wiry, like her brothers.

  She looked back to the other men. Three were burly, broad of shoulder, and had big muscles. All were obviously fighters. Another looked thinner, but that might have been due to his youth. The last one was shorter, smaller.

  She suddenly noticed one of the burly ones staring at her again and she ducked her head quickly, hoping they'd ignore her.

  "Boy. Boy. Boy."

  The man kept repeating himself, getting angrier each time. Rot it. She didn't want to talk. She peeked up again. Yes. He was glaring at her now.

  "Don't frighten the young pup," one of the others muttered. She didn't know which one.

  "Boy," the man said again. "What regiment were you in?"

  She stared. They actually thought her old enough to be in the army? Or did they just want to see what she would say or if she could be trusted? "I'm not." She flushed, relieved the dim light hid that she did so. "Wasn't." Gah! She couldn't speak. If only her head would stop pounding and her stomach would stop lurching about.

  They were all staring at her again, even the one in the corner. She tried to get her mind in order while wishing the cell wasn't so small. A bigger cell she could disappear in, hide in the shadows. "I'm not in the army," she finally managed, trying to keep her voice low.

  One with dirty blond hair raised his eyebrows. "You're wearing army issue." He said it calmly, but she knew from the slight cock of his head he didn't like the fact.

  She wasn't surprised. It was against regulation for someone not enlisted to wear army issue. She looked at her knees, at the dyed leather covering them. Her brother's pants. Her hand went to her chest and she grimaced at the absence of the leather armor. Only the thick cotton undershirt remained. The slavers had also taken her weapons. She couldn't feel the familiar weight of her knives at her sides. It seemed the only thing they'd left had been her greaves, probably because they were so small and not in very good shape.

  "Boy…" The first man spoke again, clearly losing patience with her by his tone.

  "My brothers," she said quickly. Saying the words brought a sudden pain to her chest. "They were trying to get me out of the city."

  Silence met her commen
t and she looked up again. They all continued to look at her, but at least they didn't look angry.

  One with black hair hanging just past his shoulders, the one who'd spoken to her first, began looking at her very intently though. She looked back at him. He looked a little familiar. Had she seen him somewhere before? It was possible. Her brothers had been popular and had a number of friends in most of the regiments.

  He spoke next, a faint wry smile coming to his lips. "And we are waiting for you to tell us who they are."

  She blinked rapidly. Oh. Yes, of course they were. "The Masons. Paul, Elliott…"

  The blond choked. "The seven Mason brothers?"

  A bit of pride welled within her and she nodded quickly. Of course, if these brutes were in the army they'd know of her brothers. They'd been well known throughout the country, famous from all their exploits and successes in battles.

  "You're Commander Mason's son," the smallest one said and she nodded again, wishing she could see his face. However, where he sat she could only see a shadow in the faint light.

  The dark haired one stared at her, eyes wide. Before she could react he scrambled over to her side, putting his face right before hers, his hand tilting her chin up. Fear froze her in place.

  "Aro?" He stared incredulously at her.

  Her mouth opened in surprise and he sat back suddenly, looking like someone had punched him in the gut. He chuckled unexpectedly. The noise sounded so out of place, tears threatened again.

  Yet, his laughter, she knew it. She'd heard it before at home. She struggled to remember who he was. One of her brother's friends obviously. When they had been home the house overflowed with them. She'd loved it, the laughter and the jesting and the cussing. They'd treated her like a little sister while she'd danced around serving them drinks and food. For once she was glad everyone had always called her Aro and not her given name, Arowyn. Aro was more of a boy's name than a girl's. He hadn't just given her away.

  His name came to her suddenly. "Kendric?"

  He began shaking his head in disbelief. She stared at him for a moment. "You shaved off your beard." She nodded to herself. That's why she hadn't recognized him right away. "You looked like a bear last time I saw you." Relief washed over her and she almost smiled. The panic of being totally alone subsided a little. Kendric wasn't one of her brothers, but at least he was someone she knew!

  He chuckled again, running a hand over his eyes before dragging it down his face. His look became solemn while he regarded her thoughtfully for a moment. He turned toward the other men. "He's safe."

  She rested her chin on her knees. What did that mean? Had they thought her to be a spy or something? Suddenly, she understood his words and sighed. He obviously didn't trust all of them if he wanted to play along with the whole boy thing.

  She gathered her courage, fighting the lump in her stomach. "Are my brothers here?"

  Kendric looked down at his hands and shook his head, dashing her faint hopes. Really, she'd known they weren't though. They had always been so protective of her, if they'd been on the ship she'd have heard them. They would have asked everyone if she was here.

  "Aro?" She turned to look at one of the other men. His darkly tanned skin and rough looking face stood out. He certainly wasn't pretty. The long scar running down one side of his face didn't help either, but he had a happy, friendly look to him that made him not look scary at all. "How old are you?" His voice was gentle, as if talking to a young child.

  Everyone started staring at her again. "Fifteen," she said quietly. Maybe she should have lied. Worry knotted her stomach. She had no idea what she should do.

  "Can you fight?" The blond cocked his head to the side, waiting for an answer.

  She blushed and looked at Kendric for guidance.

  "Tell the truth," he said quietly, his voice very kind. A faint smile played at his lips though, because he knew the answer.

  His smile returned some of her confidence. She nodded at them all. "But…" she grimaced slightly and wished they weren't all staring at her. "I've been having trouble with the sword lately." Everyone raised eyebrows at that. Her words came out in a rush. "Because I just keep growing and growing and I can't seem to do anything right."

  Everyone one of them either smiled or chuckled at her admission, and of course they would. They remembered the same thing happening to them. She sucked in a breath and continued. "I'm good with a bow. I've not been having much trouble with it." What else to tell them? Were they disappointed in her lack of sword fighting skills? Obviously they were planning some sort of escape. Would they leave her behind because she couldn't fight? "I'm best with knives."

  Kendric's mouth twisted slightly, as if he fought to hold in a grin. "You know, I do recall that."

  She grinned but ducked her head again to hide it. Yes, her brothers had often showed her off. She could play with her knives and bow all year. Her brothers made her wait for them to be home before they let her get her sword out, but she was pretty good with a knife.

  "Get some rest," Kendric said, leaning over to ruffle her hair.

  She smiled a little in response to his gesture and watched him move back to the little circle of men. Their whisperings began again almost immediately. Were they talking about her? She couldn't hear what they were saying over the other noises of the ship. Part of her wanted to jump up and run over to see what was going on, to be in on the planning. The rest of her pushed for caution. She didn't know these people, and they weren't her brothers. She'd only met Kendric a few times and he'd been her brothers' friend, not hers. At least the other men knew of her family. Maybe that would help, she'd just have to wait and see. Leaning back, she closed her eyes. Surprisingly, she wasn't shaking anymore, and her heart wasn't beating like crazy. She had a connection to these strangers now, even if a small one.

  She looked over at the other man in the corner, wondering why he wasn't included. Maybe they just didn't know him. Or maybe they did.

  * * *

  She stared off into the shadows, her mind numb. All day she'd drifted in and out of sleep. Her head still hurt and she gingerly touched the lump on it. If only she hadn't taken that hit. She would know what happened to her brothers. She didn't know how much time she had lost. That was probably a good thing. The less she remembered the better.

  It wasn't dark yet, but the ship had started rolling wildly. Kendric sat beside her, a hand on her shoulder, keeping her from lurching around. It wasn't much help. Her stomach kept cramping.

  "Tea would be good right about now," she said absently.

  He chuckled and nodded. "Winds picking up. We may be in for a storm."

  She looked up at him. He looked tired. "So what's the word?"

  His lips curved into a small smile again. The phrase had been something her brothers always said. "You're good. No worries with the men. I can vouch you're who you say you are. They all knew your father, or your brothers."

  A choked sound escaped her and she looked away quickly.

  His hand squeezed her shoulder slightly. "What is it?"

  "You said knew," she whispered. She closed her eyes, fighting tears and pressing darkness in her heart. "I didn't see what happened to them."

  "None of us did either," he said gently and she looked back up at him. "I asked the men for you. They don't remember seeing your brothers."

  She sighed and fought to control her raging emotions. Though pleased he had asked for her, it still wasn't helpful. Her words came out in a panicked rush. "They could be dead. Or have gotten out of the city. Or be on another ship. Or dead."

  "Aro..."

  "I know…" She faltered and took a little breath. "I know they're probably dead. Right?" She looked up at him again and his brown eyes met her tearful ones. "The city fell, didn't it?"

  He looked away and moved his hand off her shoulder. "Aye. It fell."

  She nodded to herself and concentrated on keeping calm and taking little breaths. Things were how they were. She had to deal with it. Her brothers had taught
her that. "And now we're in another mess altogether." She turned her head slightly, resting her cheek on her knees. "What happens now?"

  "We're headed for Janur Port. There we'll be unloaded and taken by caravan to Franua."

  "The slave capital of the world," she said blandly.

  He nodded. "Aye. There we'll be stripped, sorted, and branded before we're sold on the auction blocks."

  "Gah," she said with little feeling. Did he have to be so honest?

  "That about sums it up," he agreed.

  "Any hope of a rescue?"

  He shook his head, dashing any little hopes she may have had. "No. The slave fleet may come across the Dressan Navy but they'll just sink us all."

  "You're doing a wonderful job of making me feel better."

  Looking over at her, he gave a little chuckle and grinned.

  "What?" She regarded him warily, her comment had been serious.

  "Never thought I'd be watching out for someone. Certainly not like this." He shook his head. "Aro being a boy." He glanced at her again. "Would have been easier a few years ago."

  "Hmph!" She glanced over at the others who had been watching them intently. "I think they're thinking you're just insane. You shouldn't be laughing."

  He chuckled again. "Well there is that, too."

  She rolled her eyes and nodded in the direction of the quiet man in the corner. "I see he's not in your circle of friends. He a problem or what?"

  "Observant." He made a slight face. "Not a problem really."

  "Then what?"

  "He was one of a number of visiting princes. Bo remembers seeing him around the castle."

  She looked over at the man again, her curiosity piqued. "A prince? Prince of where?"

  "No idea. We asked and he wasn't telling. Won't give his name either. So we're just calling him Prince."

  "He must love that."

  "He didn't look too impressed." Kendric agreed with a smirk. Soldiers and nobility never got along. "I see where he's coming from though. If the slavers knew, it could be troublesome for him or his people."