The Hidden — Chapter Twenty-three: THE CONCUBINE — T.D. Barton & Derek Barton
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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: THE CONCUBINE
Zelda sensed, even before she opened her eyes, that she was in a different room. She was enveloped by the silence of the grave. The only sound present was the soft popping sounds made by the torches. As she sat up to look around, her brain felt as if it sloshed loose, banging against the sides of her head like a melon in a bucket. She moaned and squinted her eyes. There were dozens of torches in the small chamber, and they bathed the room in a brilliant light.
She was surprised by the décor. It was lavish in comparison to anything she had seen before in this labyrinth of dirty caverns. Apparently, Chirkah’s program to develop human technologies within the Kophet-kur society was achieving a modicum of success. The floors and walls were tiled in a varying pattern of white and blue. These porcelain tiles ran across and followed the contours of a large square bath on the right side of the room. It had the modern if the somewhat sterile look of a Roman bath chamber. She looked up to see the ceiling was actually stuccoed in white. The only concession made to the natural surroundings was a huge, motionless “Niagra” of creamy flowstone which dripped from the ceiling into one corner of the bath. Zelda considered it for a moment and decided It had probably been left there for convenience reasons rather than ornamental. It was probably easier to build the room around it rather than try to cut into the hard mineral deposits. Nonetheless, she thought it did add a small amount of charm to an otherwise dismal decorating scheme.
An enormous array of satiny pillows took up her side of the room, and she lay amidst them clad in some type of white linen gown.
Someone had stripped off her shorts and underclothes, obviously bathed and dressed her in this loose-fitting garb. The gown was more like a robe, with a belt that tied around her waist, effectively insulating her from the cold. The soft fabric caressed her skin where the coarse wool sweater had irritated it. She found it to be quite comfortable and, were it not for the situation, she would have enjoyed napping on the soft cushions.
Zelda stood and crossed to the middle of the room. She was amazed at the modern conveniences exhibited here. At various places about the room, she could make out openings for ventilation shafts to enter the chamber. These were covered with steel grates, adding to the up-to-date ambiance of the place. It was clean and dry. In fact, had it not been for the ever-present torches, she would have believed she had been rescued and returned to civilization. Any such thoughts were cast aside, however, when she turned her attention to the doorway to this chamber. Beyond the glare of the torchlight, it was pitch black, but she could see two female slaves standing guard in the corridor. Just outside this room, they stood with their backs to her, flanking the doorway and staring straight ahead. This told her that she was still being held prisoner — same game, new playing field. She wondered what the rules to this new game were to be.
She didn’t have long to consider, however, because Lynette strolled into the room, smiling pleasantly, as though everything was as normal as can be expected. The two guards ignored her completely, and she walked directly over to greet Zelda.
“What’s new, Lynette?” Zelda asked, tersely. “Did you get the little wolf-cub tucked into his crib?”
Lynette let this jibe roll off without comment. Instead, she gazed at Zelda with wide-eyed innocence.
“You are so lucky!” She smiled warmly and reached out to brush back a lock of Zelda’s hair from her brow. “Soon you will understand and learn to appreciate the great contribution you are about to make.”
Annoyed, Zelda jerked her head away with a shake. “That’s a sweet thought, Lynette, but has it occurred to you that you may be as nutty as a fruitcake?” She turned her back on the older woman and made a gesture encompassing the room. “What is all this anyway?”
Lynette’s voice took on a hallowed tone. “You are being prepared for Chirkah. When The Gathering has finished, he will come for you here, in this chamber. It is a great honor. He has had but one other concubine since he assumed leadership of the Pack. And she…well–“
“What?” Zelda swung back around to face her. “What happened to my predecessor?”
Lynette dropped her eyes, but only slightly. “She died in childbirth. It was a natural occurrence…an infection…it could not have been helped.” Quickly she recovered her cheerful inspiration. “But YOU are strong — not like her. You will live long here and make many strong, healthy babies.”
Zelda reached out and grasped Lynette by the shoulders. She pleaded for reason, some semblance of sanity. “Lynette, listen to yourself, will you? You are asking me to give myself willingly over to a monster. Rape is one thing, but this is absolute madness! Why would I purposely sacrifice my own morality in order to help a cause which threatens to undermine the very future of my race? The Kophet-kur want to destroy us…surely you must know that?”
The haggard woman simply stared at her as though she were speaking a foreign language. Not a trace of comprehension showed on her prematurely wrinkled face.
“There must be a way out!” Desperation was creeping into her voice. “It’s not too late! You and I could make a break from here. You must know your way around pretty good by now, huh? What do you say we head for the hills while we’ve got the chance?” Her fingers dug deeply into Lynette’s soft flesh as she squeezed her arms. A startled look spread across the woman’s tortured features as she reached up to pull Zelda’s hands away. Zelda was surprised by the strength in that grip.
“You must NEVER talk of escape!” Lynette’s voice hissed between clenched teeth. “That kind of talk will bring you nothing but pain…and death.” Her eyes burned hotly and therein lay insanity.
Zelda felt herself on the verge of tears. She was stung by this rebuff from the one person she thought may be an ally in this madhouse. Her heart was near breaking with frustration. “But why?” she pleaded feebly. “Why would you want to go on living like this?”
She dug her palms into her eyes and fought back the tears. At last, she was able to gather herself. With a deep breath, she continued. “There must’ve been a time when you thought about it. Think back, Lynette, what turned you around and made you a martyr for this ’cause’ of theirs?”
Lynette smiled calmly, the look of serenity returning to her face. “You will understand completely once you are pregnant,” she said. “About the time the baby reaches the end of its first trimester, you will begin to hear its voice…here…within your heart.” Her hand came to nestle upon her shriveled bosom lightly like a flower.
“It will whisper to you quietly in the middle of the night. No one else will hear it. At first, there will be only feelings–emotions so strong and so unbelievably overwhelming in their correctness…You will not be able to resist them. Nor will you want to. Eventually, the baby will begin to speak to you in a voice only you can recognize. The words will be full of wisdom and power. And through it, there will grow within you an all-encompassing desire to protect and nurture this baby. It will be by far THE most important thing in your life. You will gladly die to protect it. And more importantly, you will kill to provide it a safe passage into this world.”
“As time goes on, the baby will make you see why The Cause is just and correct. You will be more than happy to assist in its execution. The rest of the world will fade into the dim background as you will become obsessed with the beauty of this child you are about to create. By the time the baby is ready to make its entrance, there will be a bond between you that will not be broken, even by death itself. Should you die in childbirth, you will know the baby’s thoughts and your own thoughts will go on, joining in The Cause. Your hearts will beat on together in one chest, a part of the greater heart of the Kophet-kur. A single entity absorbed by and held within the greater consciousness of being that is the legacy of our Fathers. There can be no greater goal in life than to live and die for The Cause. IT is everything and sustains us though we show ourselves unworthy. The Cause lifts us up and gives our lives purpose. You cannot deny the wisdom…the perfect, harmonious righteousness of The Cause!”
She brought a hand up and lovingly caressed Zelda’s cheek. “There is nothing more to say,” she said softly. Slowly she leaned and standing on tiptoe, placed her dry lips against Zelda’s forehead. The sickly-sweet scent of sage hung upon her breath. Zelda had the odd feeling she was being kissed by a corpse. Her mind leaped back to a vision of her father in his casket and the waxy cool feeling of his skin when she leaned over to kiss him goodbye. With a shiver, she realized the roles were reversed. This time the dead was bidding her adieu. She would be condemned to life — life without hope.
Abruptly Lynette turned on one heel and left the room. Again the almost palpable quiet swept in around Zelda and she fell back on the cushions to await her fate.
Amidst the silence, she pondered her situation. In the space of two horrible days, her entire life had been turned around. All her plans and dreams of the future lay in ruins. Total black, inconsolable grief rushed in overwhelming her. It flapped into the room on huge black wings to land upon her shoulder and peck at her heart. She sprawled on her stomach burying her face against this nightmare of insanity and wept bitterly.
“Nate, oh, Nate!” She sobbed his name over and over again like some pathetic mantra. For the first time since her capture, the awful truth of his death and the emptiness it would leave her with hit home. She would never bear his children or work together to create the family she desperately needed to give her life meaning. She would never again feel his arms about her or experience the thrill of his kisses.
When she looked to the future, there was a vast, dark hole in the center of it — blacker even than the cursed caverns that now entombed her. She felt completely lost, as though she were already dead. But instead of being freed by death to commune with her dear departed love, she was doomed to this purgatory — this hell below the surface of the world. She felt totally disconnected from her world, her soul buried in the cold ground and crawling with worms. Her heart ached like an exposed nerve, and her stomach knotted painfully as her body was wracked and twisted with sobs.
Slowly she became aware that someone else was in the room with her. Tears blurred her vision as she looked to see who had entered. She scrubbed her hands across her eyes, smearing wetness over her face and into her hair. She swallowed and asked thickly, “Who–who’s there?” An immense bulk filled her sight and she recoiled in fright.
It was time! Chirkah, the fearsome leader of the Kophet-kur had arrived. Zelda had no way of knowing what to expect, but she could only speculate about the ferocity of a best savage enough to lead this pack of bloodthirsty monsters.
A moment ago she had been ready to surrender herself to whatever came along. There seemed to be no way to avoid the horrible fate Lynette had spoken of, so why fight it? Pain, grief, and exhaustion had robbed her of the will to live and the ability to fight back. But now, when she faced the terror of this horrible, fanged creature, abundantly aware of his intentions, adrenaline flooded her bloodstream and she became alive with terror.
She screamed and leaped to her feet amidst the cushions, desperate to live and to cast aside this horrible threat. Somewhere in the depths of her being, she made up her mind to make this beast who was about to brutally violate her pay a dear price for his lust. She leaped straight at it, nails flashing and teeth bared in panic, like the cornered animal she’d become.
Alice stepped back in surprise, and then wrapped her immense arms in a bear hug around the frightened Zelda. “Whoa, girl!” she yelled over her screams. “We got a deal, remember? Don’t make me hurt you!”
When Zelda heard the familiar southern twang in that voice, she snapped out of her delusion and stopped struggling. She didn’t think she would ever be glad to see Alice, but there it was. With a small cry of relief, she relaxed. She felt Alice easing her grip as well. Zelda laughed suddenly and for a moment, she thought she would never stop — she would just go on laughing hysterically until Alice, Chirkah or one of the other slave women grew tired of it and put her out of her misery.
Eventually, however, her battered emotions stabilized, and she dropped silently back onto the cushions. She was embarrassed to think of the way she’d behaved in front of Alice — first weeping like a baby then flying into a fit of panic and screaming her fool head off. It compromised the show of strength she had presented before and undermined her position. Her face reddened and she struggled to make it stop.
While the big woman stood, swaying slightly in the middle of the room, Zelda turned her face away and stared at the wall. At last, she spoke, trying lamely to give her voice an edge of controlled strength. “What do you want?”
“You goin’ gorilla-dick on me, girl?” Alice asked, suspiciously. “I hope that ain’t the kind of greeting you plan to give Chirkah when he shows his ugly ass in here. You go jumpin’ at him like that and he’ll slap the hell outta you. Big as he is, he’ll prob’ly rip your fool head off an’ shit down your neck.”
Zelda said nothing.
“Now we had an agreement, you an’ me. How you gonna talk nice to ol’Chirkah ’bout me with your head ripped off and shoved up your ass?”
“Alice,” Zelda asked, anxiously. “Is there nothing I can do to get out of here? Isn’t there some way YOU could help me?” She was desperate and grasping at straws.
For just a moment, Alice’s features softened a bit and she saw a hint of compassion in her gaze. It was short-lived, however, as Alice’s cold little eyes narrowed and she thrust her jaw out stubbornly. “There ain’t NOTHIN’ you or me or anybody else can do about it, so you might just as well get used to the idea. You’re gonna be Chirkah’s number one squeeze an he’s gonna do all he can to keep you barefoot an’ pregnant for a long, long time.”
Zelda persisted, trying a different tack. “I’ve been watching you, and I can tell — you don’t buy into this ‘great cause’ idea of theirs. You give it lip service, but you’re not off in La-la Land like Lynette is. What keeps you going through all this? And why haven’t you tried to escape?”
“Why? I’ll tell you why.” There was a deep, bitter fury in Alice’s voice. It rumbled deep and low, threatening to break through and erupting to the surface. “‘Cause if they ketch you, they kill you…no questions asked — just ‘BAM!’ you’re doin’ the dirt-dance. And, like I told you before, I plan to go on living just as long as I can…whatever it takes!”
She shook her head. “Sure, it sucks here. And no, I ain’t gonna go walking around like some glassy-eyed zombie the way Lynette and the others do. I had bunches of them squealin’ little wolf-brats of theirs and every one of ’em tried to work their voodoo spells on me. But I’m too damn mean to listen. A couple of times, I thought about chokin’ their little eyeballs out or givin’ ’em the old ‘coat-hanger treatment’ before they had a chance to git born…That woulda just caused me more trouble if’n I was to git caught. And with the rest of these gung-ho bitches watchin’ every single move I make around here, the chances of gittin’ caught were real good.”
Alice diverted her gaze for a moment, staring into the flickering light of the nearest torch. “I know you think I’m pretty mean to these gals…maybe I am, too. But the fact is, I’ve had to put up with their bullshit for a good many years, now; and it don’t make no difference how you treat ’em. You can be nice to ’em or you can be mean as hell–they’re still lost as ever. It’s like they’re already dead, and just plain too stupid to fall down. They come in here scared to death until one of those big hairy sombitches drags ’em off for a few rounds of ‘bury-the-bone’. Then, when they come back, it’s like they got lost somewhere and never made it back. They stare off into space and won’t have nothing to do with anybody — just sit around huggin’ themselves an’ waitin’ to git big. After a while, the baby takes over what little mind they had left, and the person that was brought in here is gone forever.”
She turned back to Zelda again, and there was horror deep within her eyes. “The real scary monsters down here ain’t them Kofat-kurs — it’s the empty shells left behind by their half-breed kids. Unless you’re real strong — or maybe just ornery, like me — they’ll tear your heart out and leave you with nothin’…just plain nothin’.”
Silence filled the room again while the two women sat staring at each other. At that moment, Zelda saw the big woman in a brand new light. She thought she could comprehend a little better what she had been through and why she behaved in the manner she chose. It would be an overstatement to say that her heart went out to Alice, but she did have a glimmer of understanding that eased, somewhat, her loathing of the woman. She wondered what she would be like after years at the hands of the Kophet-kur.
Alice took a deep breath and changed the subject. “Anyways, what do you think of the place — pretty snazzy, eh?”
Zelda flashed a rueful grin. “Oh, yeah. It’s just lovely! It still smells like the lion-house at Lincoln Park Zoo, but it’s nicer than any of the other accommodations here. Do you like my gown?”
“Well, it ain’t exactly a Paris oh-riginal, but I reckin’ it’ll do. Yeah, ol’Chirkah, he likes a little ceremony an’ a nice place to sleep. Comes right down to it, you’re really pretty lucky. Most of these bastards’ll just slap you a good one and put it to you where you fall — no matter where that might happen to be.” She shook her head, sadly. “See, most of us ain’t reserved for just one, like you are. We’re supposed to make ourselves available to any one of ’em what gets a boner and a couple minutes off, know what I mean? Not that Chrikah’s gonna be no gentleman or anything…”
Zelda thought back to the beast that had carried her off into the night and the way it had thrust its erection into her unsuspecting hand.
“You’ll get used to the smell after a while, though,” Alice continued. “And the cuts and bruises and such will heal pretty quick. So, like I said, you might just as well make the most of it…And don’t forget about our agreement, huh?”
With no flourish or ceremony, the big woman turned and strode from the room. Along with her went any hopes Zelda had for securing an accomplice that might aid her in her attempts to escape. Once more, she was left alone with her thoughts. Now, there was nothing left for her to do but steel herself and await the arrival of Chirkah, leader of the Kophet-kur — prospective father of her future children. With a shudder, she realized she was about to become indoctrinated into the pack.
