Life in the valley isn't all sunshine and roses

Something from the very rough first draft of Marked again. For the silver eyed like Merete, the valley is a safe haven from the people hunting them. That doesn't mean it's necessarily safe.

A few lunari passed. One day, as Merete was sewing, a garment was snatched from her hands. She was half dragged, half carried from where she was sitting into the area that Emberlie had claimed as her own. “Merete, you're being accused of using threads again,” Emberlie said. “This time there isn't going to be anyone to tell me you didn't do it. I can't have you getting out of a punishment so easily.”

“So you're going to punish me just on someone else's word?” Merete asked. “I don't have any say in it?”

“No you don't,” Emberlie said. “Remove your tunic.” Merete stared at her in shock. “Remove your tunic. I won't have it damaged. You may hold it in front of you if you wish.” Merete did as she was told. “Ten lashes, five for the skirt and five for lying about not using threads.”

“Yes Emberlie.” A man took a few steps forward and a pain sharper than anything she'd felt since the stoning tore across her back. She screamed.

“Scream again and I'll make it fifteen,” Emberlie said. “You can whimper all you want. But no more loud noises.”

Merete couldn't keep quiet, though she did try to limit herself to whimpers. She bit down more than once on a scream. “That's ten, Emberlie. Any more?”

“No. I think she understands now,” Emberlie said. “You may put your tunic back on, Merete. There will be no blood because the lacerations caused by the whip are healed with thread magic as soon as they appear on your body. You're going to have some interesting marks that most likely won't fade any time soon. You may even have a few scars from this.” Emberlie caught Merete's arm. “Don't think you'll ever escape this again. I suggest you keep your head down. You never know when I'll decide you need this.” She let go. “Put your tunic back on and go to your place.”

Sunday Snippet - Marked

Here's a brief little snippet from my current WIP - Marked, formerly known as Only A Name.

It was a beautiful night. The moon was full and cast its silvery glow over the countryside. The stars were bright against the velvet blackness of the sky. Lord Mikhael looked out over his garden and not for the first time cursed the gods who had made him High Lord of Sorran Hold. He turned to his wife. “They’ll be here soon.”

Lady Rowan nodded. “We don’t have much time.” Even after all this time her voice still held a hint of the northerner’s speech. “Emberlie, come here.”

“Yes milady?” The dark haired maidservant stepped forward.

“Bring me Sorcha,” Rowan said. “Be quick. There’s not much time.”

“Yes milady,” Emberlie said. She ran from the room, her hair flying behind her.

“This is the only way, Rowan,” Mikhael said.

“I know. But she’s just a child. She shouldn’t be left alone like this,” Rowan said.

“If we aren’t here when they come, they’ll hunt for us. That would put her at greater risk. At least this way there’s a chance,” Mikhael said.

“I will miss her smile,” Rowan said.

“As will I,” Mikhael said. “If we survive this night, we will meet at the shrine. She’ll be there waiting for us.”

“I know,” Rowan said. Unspoken between them was the certainty that neither of them would live to see the dawn.