Akira Rises Read online

  “But what about love, Akira?” The question came from the girl she was teaching to read.

  “It’s a trap. Women get tricked into having babies, getting tied down. They do not get to travel without a man at their side. I’m surprised they let us have babies. I am sure if they could, they would do it themselves. They think us soft headed.” She pushed her stomach forward and waddled about. “Imagine a man going through birthing.”

  Her friend laughed and said, “Oh it hurts, it hurts, I am dying.”

  Akira laughed. Then she quit laughing. “Marriage is not for me.”

  She had no idea how loved she had become. The girls were in a bit of awe of her. No fancy airs, no fancy clothes, and she offered to help with milking, washing, and drawing water from the well. Akira had been known to stand up to the young village bullies with nothing more than a stick and her tongue. Granted none wanted the baron to find out anyone dared lay a hand on her, and that fear of the baron in itself was protection, but she had already got into a fist fight pushing match with a village boy beating a dog. Akira ended up with a black eye, a new dog, and a new respect. The villagers feared for the boy. However, word came back from the manor’s servants that when Akira was questioned about her black eye, she told her father she had thrown a rock at a tree, and that the rock bounced back and hit her in the eye. The villagers never forgot how she protected the foolish boy.

  The villagers also appreciated that more than once she had hooked her war bred horse, Pegasus to a plough to help till the earth.

  No one wanted to see her grow up, get married and leave them. On the other hand, they did not want her to become a nun or a shriveled up old spinster. They did not want to see her free spirit dampened and subdued. She was of marriageable age, and rumors were her father would be accepting suitors soon.

  There was something special about Akira, beyond her kind acts. That she was the antithesis of everything her father was, was a miracle. The villagers watched over her as if she were one of their own. She was their child. That her mother shared her daughter with them endeared Lady Shy to the villagers even more than her other acts of kindness. The sons of Lady Shy had yet to prove they would not follow in their father’s footsteps. Akira defended her brother’s reputations. She would sometimes criticize their actions, but she allowed no one else to do so. Never did Akira defend father.

  It seemed as if Akira had a magic that made everyone around her feel good. Akira proudly wore the flower garlands little girls would give to her. And when Akira asked for lessons on how to make a slingshot, there were several boys that volunteered to teach her. Under the watchful eye of a village elder, Akira learned how to hit a target with amazing accuracy. She became as accurate as the best of the young boys in the village.

  She cried when she killed her first rabbit. When she realized how much her companions needed the rabbit meat for their supper, Akira dried her tears. In front of her companions, she said, “Oh mother, all that we have, mother of the forest and animals we thank you for this rabbit. Oh rabbit we I thank you for your life, for your body provides sustenance.”

  The smallest boy looked at the older boys. “What is sustemince?”

  “Sustenance you idiot.” His older brother elbowed him as he corrected his little brother.

  “It means it will fill your belly,” another boy added. Everyone chuckled when the little boy once again mispronounced his words. “Oh! I like sustamince.” He smiled a goofy smile.

  Akira was about to present the rabbit to the smallest boy who hunted with her. She wanted to thank him and his older brother for teaching her to use the slingshot. Akira realized if the boys were caught by her father’s men with a poached rabbit, they would be in trouble.

  “I am afraid if I send anyone of you home with this rabbit, you will be accused of poaching. I do not need the meat. So what do you think of starting a fire and roasting it and eating it here with me? I have never roasted a rabbit. You can teach me.” The boys stared at her. They grinned.

  Such was Akira’s thoughtfulness for their safety. If they could fill their bellies in the woods, they would need less food at home. To thank her, the youngest boy searched for the most round and even small stones he could find, round stones, suitable for a slingshot. He presented them to Akira shyly.

  “Thank you for sustemincing our bellies,” he said. He looked quite proud of himself using the new word. His older brother was about to correct his pronunciation when he caught the warning look in Akira’s eyes. Akira accepted the stone gifts with a gratitude that made the shy little boy smile and feel as if he, too, had much to offer the daughter of a baron.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Lady Shy noticed the hungry look in her husband’s eyes as they lingered on her daughter when he thought no one was looking. When he was drunk, when his eyes were glazed after visits from the mages, he was not so careful to shield his unnatural appetites. Inhibitions that governed acceptable behavior seemed to slip away. The day that his hand had slipped from Akira’s waist and cupped her bottom, was the day Lady Shy knew her daughter was in more danger than ever. Startled, Akira shoved her father back, picked up her skirt and bolted from the great room.

  That his wife saw the forbidden touch seemed to please the baron. The curl of his lip, the challenging glare was not lost on his wife. This time the touch had been for her eyes. She needed to be reminded that she had much to fear not only for herself but for the daughter she loved. The surge of red color creeping up his wife’s neck, up to her cheeks pleased him. It made him feel powerful. His threat had struck hard and deep, and he knew it. The feeling of power was heady.

  Akira was aghast. She ran to the kitchen and grabbed a knife from them butcher block table. She steadied herself against the table. Mary, the head cook was just cleaning the pin feathers off a goose, while her assistant was sloshing water about cleaning blood off the flagstone floor.

  Mary looked up. “Who are you going to kill this time, Akira? Who has your embroidered pantaloons in a knot?” Mary had a way of calming the young mistress. It was not the first time Akira had exploded into the kitchen asking for a knife to stab into her brothers. But this time, it did not seem like sibling drama. Akira was pale and shaking.

  Akira inhaled sharply. “He put his filthy hands on my ass!”

  Mary scowled, ready to box someone’s ears. “Who dared insult my young mistress? Hand me that knife and I will carve him a new asshole!” Mary grabbed her sharpest knife.

  Akira looked pained. “Would that you could … but you can’t!”

  “What do you mean I can’t? There are no young bucks around here my knife can’t handle.” Mary huffed. “Now put that knife down before you cut yourself waving it around. My god girl, you are in a state! Who dared touch you? Spill it to old Mary.”

  “One you cannot ever touch,” Akira said angrily. Akira paced, agitation expressed itself in every move, every nuance of her face. She put the knife down, picked it up and put it down again.

  “And what manner of man or boy can’t be touched?” Mary wiped her hands on her apron and put her hands on her ample hips.

  “A baron cannot be touched Mary… a bloody baron.”

  Mary frowned as she suddenly comprehended the anger and indignation.

  “Oh that bastard! Did he slap your ass for being cheeky? You are a tad too old for him to be doing such a thing. You’re not a child anymore.”

  “No Mary, he fondled my ass. It was not a slap one could excuse! I was not being impertinent or cheeky.”

  “Is he drunk? Not that drunkenness excuses the bastard.”

  “When is he not in some state of drunkenness? He knew it was me… his daughter.”

  “Oh my poor girl, tis no wonder you are in a dither.” Mary wrapped her arms about Akira for a brief hug. “Shall I lace his foods with salt peter?” Mary looked serious. Her scowl was fierce.

  “And put yourself at risk? No, dear Mary, as tempting as that is, you would have to pour it on his food and he would notice.”
/>   “Aye, you are right. It would require massive amounts of the stuff. Perhaps it would preserve his meat, if you know what I mean. We would not want that.”

  Akira rolled her eyes then hugged the cook. “How do you always know what to say to keep me from screaming.”

  The cook hugged her tighter. If she could get away with it and gather her courage she would put poison in the bloody baron’s food. She had confessed her thoughts to her husband in several rants in private. The baron was crossing more lines of decency...again. Poison was too good for him she had ranted. Her husband agreed, for he knew agreeing was the quickest way to calm his agitated mate.

  Mary loosened her hold on Akira. She decided it was time to approach the mistress of the manor. She did not know how she could help Akira, but something needed to be done to protect the young woman in her arms.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The baron summoned his wife to his bedchamber that night for the first time in years, intending to use her as he saw fit.

  “Woman disrobe and get yourself into my bed.” His voice was cold. The heady feeling of power from earlier in the day had worn off. It was time to exert his dominance over his haughty wife. Time to make her bend to his will again.

  “Have you forgotten our agreement, Rolfe?” Lady Shy fought to keep her voice from shaking, fought to hide her fear. “We agreed I would never have to share your bed in return for my silence. Are you willing to have your secret affair with your own sister laughed about, joked about at court.?” She lifted the front of her gown and started to turn away, as if expecting the timely reminder would allow her to be dismissed.

  “No one will believe you, wife. They will think your waspish words bitter lies of an aging woman jealous of her husband’s numerous and beautiful mistresses.” The baron’s upper lip curled like the lip of a dog ready to attack.

  Lady Shy dropped her hand from the heavy iron door latch. She turned and faced her husband. “Once upon a time, your word was good. Once upon a time, you enjoyed the king’s favor. Things have changed. What makes you believe your word would carry more weight than mine?”

  “I am a baron, a nobleman. You are just a woman, or had you forgotten? What makes you believe your words would ever reach the court?”

  The muscles of Lady Shy’s jaw clenched. She swallowed. A shiver of fear ran down her spine. It was becoming more of an effort to appear unafraid. “I have made certain that certain damning letters will be handed over to the king’s hand if I am to die for any other reason than old age. I have learned from you husband about black mail and protecting myself.”

  “You bluff!” The baron’s face reddened. “You have nothing.”

  “Are you willing to gamble I don’t have proof you committed acts of treason? You have conspired with magicians, warlocks and all manner of forbidden beings behind the king’s back. You disobeyed his express orders to enforce the treaty of a closed border between us and the beings to the north.”

  “You have no proof woman. Now disrobe and resume your place in my bed as an obedient wife. It is time you remembered your place.”

  Lady Shy walked up to him, head held high, eyes blazing. Inwardly, she was shaking. She stared into his eyes with a look of contempt. “You may soil my body with yours, if you are up to it, to satisfy your base urges, but you are to keep your hands off my daughter or I will do everything in my power to destroy you!”

  She gasped when the back of his hand struck her face. She staggered, then defiantly stood straight again. She stared back at him again with her iciest look.

  That night he used her and abused her. Satisfied that he had successfully humiliated her, he drank himself into sleep.

  Baron Rolfe never forced his wife to his bed chamber again. He would never again risk the humiliation of impotency with her. He imagined correctly that it would give her immense satisfaction to witness the failure of his manhood again. She had mocked him with her eyes, and paid for it dearly. He came close to strangling her, but he could not be certain her threats were without merit. He reigned in his wrath. He would give her no reason to gain the sympathy of her sons with bruises or marks from his anger. Sexual services had never been confined to the unholy state of matrimony he had entered into. Satisfying couplings were very purchasable.

  In the days that followed, reliving his wife’s look of fear after he slapped her, his sexual appetites took on sadistic tone. He found a new excitement that satisfied him. Inflicting pain and exercising power were his new aphrodisiacs, aphrodisiacs he did not need mages for.

  Younger women were easy to acquire, especially in cities. Payment for bruises and bite marks usually guaranteed silence. If silence was too expensive, liabilities, and annoyances somehow disappeared. The perks of nobility and wealth suited his needs. Poverty made many women do desperate things for money to feed themselves or their families.

  Murder was sometimes a desirable solution to protest over his sadistic actions. The results were permanent. Dead lips did not speak. He began to travel between cities frequently. It seemed to those who monitored his movements that he had very many suspicious business dealings that required his attention. The shift from man to monster was slow. He had the form of a man but the heart of a monster.

  After that dangerous night, Lady Shy feared it would only be a matter of time before her daughter would get trapped, cornered and fall prey to the incestuous, twisted desires of her loathsome husband. Lady Shy’s sons thought her reports about her husband’s unnatural desires unfounded. That they did not report her accusations and complaints to their father was a blessing.

  Marcus’s warning worried her. “Mother, choose your words carefully. Father has hinted your mind is becoming unstable. He has expressed worry about you. We know there is no love lost between the two of you, but there are boundaries he will not cross. Surely your imagination has played tricks on you. Akira is always at odds with him. Perhaps she made a mistake.” Marcus’s words gave clue of how her husband planned on discrediting her, of discrediting Akira.

  Lady Shy took a deep breath trying to appear as calm and sane as she could. “Marcus, have you ever seen me hysterical?”

  Marcus had the grace to blush. Edgar who had let his older brother do all the speaking looked uncomfortable.

  “No Mother.”

  “Have you ever caught your sister lying?”

  “No.”

  “I know your sister has an active imagination, and we all know she rebels against your father, but she has never lied about her feelings toward him, never accused him of such deplorable conduct before. We must not jump to conclusions that she has falsely accused him out of spite and I’m most certain if I was unstable, we would not be having this calm of a conversation.” Lady Shy dared not say she saw a look in her husband’s eyes that frightened her. She sighed. “You must be watchful, and be very careful. Don’t trust everything you hear.” She forced a smile. “Observe and think for yourselves.”

  Her sons walked away looking very thoughtful. They did not see what their mother saw. They did not know the evil their father had done and was still doing. They were not around enough to see his moral descent. The baron had been somewhat careful around his sons. For some reason, he did care about their approval, but more pointedly, he needed their popularity with the nobles and the king to mitigate any suspicion that he caused unrest so that the king would continue to need and appreciate his services.

  Thus, Lady Shy’s sons did not know the full extent of their father’s deviousness and evil doings. It pained Lady Shy that her sons were not at home more often to see for themselves their father’s metamorphosis into a dark and sinister being. Lady Shy knew she would be in mortal danger from the dark mages who visited the manor if they suspected she worked against her husband and their collaborations. She knew in every fiber of her being that the mages in the black robes were responsible for the loosening of the inhibitions that promoted humanity.

  Lady Shy recognized the look in her husband’s eyes when he looked at Akira. She would
not put it past him to drug and harm their daughter in a most vile way. It would not be the first time, second time, or third time he drugged an unsuspecting woman. He was after all a man who would bed his sister, had lost most, if not all, inhibitions that governed human behavior. It made her wonder if there were any lines he would not cross to get his way. She wondered if her sons were willfully blind. She knew they were very aware he had multiple affairs and lovers. If it bothered them, they kept it hidden. It had not been an easy task to warn them to keep any love interests they had far from their father. Very carefully, she approached her sons again. It was a delicate diplomacy dance to warn her sons without seeming like she had anything personal to gain, that the family itself had much to lose if the warnings were ignored.

  Mercifully, her sons did not mock those secret warnings. The disturbing truth in the warnings was evident. They had heeded their mother’s cautions to look and listen for themselves.

  Marcus joked. “It’s not safe to bring a prospective bride anywhere near our Father.” Edgar laughed and added, “The old man has the appetites of a young man, and a persuasive approach with women.” Benjamin didn’t laugh at all. He didn’t even smile. “Persuasive, is that what you call it?” His sarcastic question, muted his brothers’ laughter. He added, “I don’t believe our mother was being malicious towards our father. Gods know he has given her reason. Nor does she appear disturbed or going insane.”

  Edgar spoke his mind. “Is it safe to say we concur it is wise of our mother to not care if Father takes his sexual pleasures outside of their marriage. It is obvious she is indifferent to his many affairs. And if she isn’t welcoming him to her bedchamber, surely he could be expected to find comfort elsewhere. However, discretion is something we agree our father needs to practice.”