Stolen Hearts; Chapter Twelve

The hall was more than magnificent, it was awe inspiring and breathtaking all at once. The ceiling was so high that Cala felt dizzy just looking up at it. The walls arched up and the bricks were patterned elaborately with deep grooves, the detail was immense. The floor itself was clear glass and the mountains surface could be seen below; the furniture was chocolate wood, almost black in colour. There was a single table that ran the full length of the hall, large enough to seat a hundred at any one time.
"Its better isn’t it?" Jason grinned at her reaction.

They were seated side by side near the top end of the table. Their lord, Braxton himself was presiding at the head of the table, with his wife Lady Amaria Braxton to his left. He was dressed in a simple brown robe with a red rose tucked in his chest pocket. He looked almost monk like to Cala. His irises were a deep hazel and for a brief moment they locked eyes and she saw more raw emotion than ever before wash through her body.

Lady Amaria was of a gentle temperament but she was practical and knew how to live off the land. It was unwise to be led to believe she was a pampered darling. Her white hair was secured in a bun with two severe looking needles, its snowy composure contrasting against her dark, dark skin.

Next along the top of the table were the Rebel Generals and high officials. People sunk truly into the heart of the Rebel cause and who would stop at little to help their nation, for it was so large now that she did indeed believe it a nation in its own right. These high in rank were mainly men of working age and the occasional women. Women were not thought of as the lesser in a Rebel society but many of the women preferred the jobs less demanding of their capabilities.

Further down the line were the sons and daughters of those higher up, including Cala and Jason, and then sat the people of the town and their children in age order.
This grouping at the table was only ever done on formal occasions, had Cala not been present everyone would be residing next to whomever they wished. The Lord and Lady would always talk to the youngest and lowest at the table to show respect.

The Rebels however seemed not to mind at being separated; in truth they seemed to relish the fact of having a little order at the table.
"Yes, it’s beautiful," Cala whispered back. Jason grinned and turned to Braxton who had begun to stand up in preparation for a speech.

The room fell quiet in an instant and she sat up attentively.
"My dear brothers, today is a special day. Tonight we dine in honor for we have been blessed with the presence of a long lost friend. She has been gone for many a winter and many a summer; the sun has risen and fallen countless times without her under it beside us. My dear," Braxton looked directly at Cala, "we welcome you back. This is a place I hope, if no other, you can call a home,"

She returned his gaze back down the table and nodded in sincere appreciation but cringed secretively for she could not honestly call the Rebel base her home.
"Things are changing young ones; our army grows greater by the day. Our battles are few but they are substantial and successful,"
He’s right Cala thought. The Rebels had a way of picking the smallest fights that somehow seemed to change the largest number of things.

"Tonight is the only night we have to enjoy the company of our ally before she departs again to experience things she will never forget. It will be a long hard journey through that school my darling but you will learn so much more than you think.
"A war is coming. I know what you’re thinking, ‘we are already at war’. No, you’re mistaken. The Black Nation still isn’t pushing as hard as they can and the White Nation has been disinclined to push back. No longer will they hold back, not for long. The White's have Cala,"

Cala almost opened her mouth to object, nobody had her as far as she was concerned.
"Yes Cala I'm afraid they do. Not because they won you but because you were curious and wanted to be won,"

This Cala accepted and leaned back awaiting the rest of his speech. This was possibly the last she’d hear from him as he was right, a bigger war was coming and Cala would be right in the heart of the firing line.

"So we prepare for the worst," Braxton raised his glass and all followed his action.

"Brothers in arms!" The hall filled with the words emitted from the lungs within its walls.

"Brothers in arms," Cala muttered not sure whether her tone was more cynical or sombre. She would return to the castle tomorrow and receive whatever punishment she was given. It had been worth it. Apollo was safe here at least for a while and she knew he would soon gather a herd and take them through the forests like many stallions do. The Rebels would watch over him on the most part.

She had also seen Jason and Atoc again, although it is sad to know that Jason will now be in greater jeopardy as he must go to war also but had Cala not seen him now he would have been a different man when she met him next. Atoc, Cala smiled, would never change and his ways were a true comfort to her with his childish smile and hard eyes.

*
Cala woke up the next day still wonderfully full from the feast last night. She wandered on down to the pools, glinting in the early morning light, to wash and change. She had received a worn tan leather shoulder bag from Braxton to carry some bread and water in. It was a useful item for her travels, as it was durable and easy to seal securely.

Cala roamed outside and started to make her way over to the fields, the sun was shining radiantly down today and there was very little cloud above. When she reached the meadow, covered in yellow Dalmation Toadflax and spotted with tall red Poppies, Jason was already there, with three winged horses close behind. His hair billowing in the wind that never ceased in these mountains. His face sun kissed and eyes as wide as a newborn pup’s.

"You’re up early," he called over.

"So are you," Cala climbed over the fence into the field to join them and laughed as Apollo nuzzled her chest affectionately. His mane brushed smooth and his tail as silky as a fox.

"Who are these two?" Cala asked nodding towards the other animals.

Jason smiled and showed off the two attractive horses in turn. The first was a beautiful dark bay with an arched neck and tiny white flecks on the tops of his ears like new snow fall. His wings dipped from the dark bay to black at its tips. They were short for a horse his size but definitively muscled. He was not a flyer but a suitable horse for the battlefield.

"This is Sarzon, my horse,"

Cala looked him up and down. He was bulkier, plus older than Apollo and probably couldn’t run as fast but he looked stronger and moreover was probably steadier to ride. Cala nodded her approval and Apollo snorted and pawed the ground, she laughed and hugged him round the neck.

"You jealous thing," Cala teased scratching him twixt the ears.
The next was a sandy coloured mare with a black mane and tail. She had black socks as well and her wings were white from joint to tip. She was extremely streamlined with wafer thin wings seemingly filed to a point. Her skinny build making her look lighter than any horse Cala had seen but her physical height radiating dominance. If ever a winged horse could be called fair it was this one.

"Strange colours for a light coat," Cala commented.

Jason laughed and rubbed its neck.
"Yeah, well she makes up for it in performance. Fast as light this one, I bet she could give your Apollo a run for his money. She’s brave too, jump anything you ask of her and fly into damn unworkable conditions at the slightest of nudges,"

"Are you taking them out for a walk or something then?" Cala wondered. She led Apollo out of the gates; he’d take her to the castle and travel back here himself, he knew the way, flying was too dangerous. Jason grinned again.

"Well the mare is owned by a boy up at your school as a matter of fact, I'm taking her down with Sarzon. I thought you might like some company,"

Cala smiled and gave him a quick hug.
"That would be wonderful," she beamed "Who’s the boy?"

Jason shrugged "All I know is his initials D.B,"
Cala made a mental note to remember them and climbed onto Apollo as Jason mounted Sarzon. Apollo stretched his wings up at a ninety degree angle to the ground, flexing his muscles and encasing either side of Cala’s vision in a thick black veil. As he lowered them she saw Atoc striding nimbly over to them.

"You guys set?" Atoc said, seeing them off. They both nodded and said their goodbyes. Cala had received some bread and water for the trip along with a knife to cut it with and a blanket for Apollo if it started to rain.

"Well, Jason I’ll see you for dinner and Cala…well, I guess I’ll just be seeing you. Actually I almost forgot, I found something of yours Cala," Atoc said taking his time to reveal his knowledge. Cala grinned swiftly at him, increasingly curious. "I believe you want these back," he said and withdrew a bundle from behind his back. Cala gasped, she knew the shapes of her swords well enough.

"Is it really-?" Cala began but seeing Atoc nod she leaped off Apollo and rushed to open the bundle. There inside were her sheaths, two daggers and her beloved sword. How he had got them back she had no idea but Cala refrained from asking as she fitted them to her clothes after swiping them expertly around her waist. She leapt back onto Apollo fleetingly as a bird.

"I’ll be back sooner than you’ll be hoping for. There’s a real war coming after all," Cala started to ride off with Jason, sighing back at the Rebel city as she left.

It would take eight hours to get back and Cala wasn’t in the talking mood, she just wanted to get there and promptly. They rode hard all day, it didn’t rain but the sun beat down incessantly on the horse’s flanks. They stopped for water frequently, still in silence which the horses respected and made little sound other than the pounding of their hooves across the land.

It was dusk by the time they reached the school as they’d had to navigate around the growing number of army camps. Cala was on high alert at the alarming numbers each camp seemed to contain. Jason held a brave face of indifference but every now and then the edges of his mouth seemed to twitch and his brow was to still to be relaxed.

Cala and Jason parted silently. They didn’t need words to tell each other everything running through their minds. Cala wished they had though; sometimes words are even stronger than unspoken acknowledgments between friends. They had been through a lifetime together and were entering a new one separately.

Cala slid off Apollo’s back and buried her face into his chest as he nuzzled her back. She breathed in his warmth, his safety. He didn’t just smell of horse he had a distinct smell of pine cones and lavender.

"My wildflower," she called him as she held his head and felt his warm breath on her face, she smiled. As she backed away he raised his head and reared up. She laughed "Be safe," and ran through the forest, kicking up fallen leaves as she went, until she reached the boarder. Cala stopped and looked back, she couldn’t see him but she heard him, Apollo neighed in the distance, then the sound of his feet as he galloped away.

Turning through the schools barrier with more ease than ever before Cala returned to the sight of the glorious castle.
Home. She thought involuntarily and smiled. Oh Ruffelm can be clever.

There in the grounds ahead of her was a willow. Its drooping branches reaching the ground with effortlessness, pale sea green in the light, it looked old as its trunk leaned to the left. It looked wise and shielding, it held mystery but was welcoming at the same time as from one sturdy branch there hung a quaint wooden swing. Cala stopped walking. The swing was occupied. Someone was sat solitary and motionless on the seat.

"Simon?" Cala called out somehow already knowing, barely above a whisper but it carried on the wind. The figure turned around and as Cala moved closer she could see the outline of the features on his face. She parted the flaccid branches and made her way closer to him until she was an arms length away.

"We were wondering when you’d return," he spoke calmly and to nobody in particular but Cala was the only one there so she replied.

"What are you doing?"

He looked up and smiled slowly "Like I’m going to tell you anarquista," and teleported away leaving the swing to sway gently in his absence.

Cala smiled, Simon was an outlandish boy and his ways amused Cala increasingly. Spanish was a funny old language and Cala wasn’t even sure what an ‘anarquista’ was but it was said almost affectionately by Simon.

She made her way up to the castle doors preferring to walk in the cool air than teleport straight inside where it was no doubt warm and cosy but where she would find it stuffy and loud tonight. She would collapse on her bed only to be discovered by Hannah and Nicola on their way to sleep and be awoken early in the morning for an explanation. That was her plan but she hadn’t expected the ministry to be there or for them to try and enforce their rules, at least not so efficiently. After all she was originally supposed to have stayed inside the castle walls never mind exiting the grounds.

*
"There she is! Grab her!"

Cala only sneaked into the main hall quietly to grab a bite of bread as she had consumed the source in her bag and she almost made it unnoticed. She didn’t see the superfluous four ministry officials at the head table until she had her hands around a plump, warm, freshly backed bread bun and she’d had the common sense to keep her head down. She made it halfway back to the great doors when the youngest of the four officials cried out.

Cala didn’t run, there was no point, she wasn’t going anywhere. She just turned round and nibbled at her bread ingenuously. Out of the four officials two were big and burly, one was the young skinny runt and the fourth was Jack Spencer, the prime minister’s head assistant.

"Seize her," He commanded with authority. The two large men soon grabbed Cala and brought her forward, it wasn’t hard, she didn’t protest. Cala looked up at Spencer with flashing brash eyes but held her expression otherwise complacently and awaited the news of her punishment.

"Your punishment-," He started.

Politicians are so predictable.

"-for leaving the boarders of this institution, attending lessons and meals with other students and entering the Black Nation as decreed forbidden in your contract of sanctuary at this school, is ten lashes and an extra lash for any unwilling behaviour. Do you comply?" Spencer looked down his nose at Cala over the scroll he had just read from.

Cala raised her eyebrows but didn’t say a word as a whip was produced and she was ordered to turn away. She did what she was told and faced the hundreds of eyes all staring disbelievingly at her. There was no point in stopping this, Cala knew that. It would only create a bigger confrontation, she wasn’t prepared to give the ministry what it wanted, a reason to put her in a proper high security prison or worse to execute her prematurely.

It would show the hundreds of kids in this school that even the White nation shed blood and it would annoy the ministry when they realised that she simply wasn’t paying any attention.

She felt her shirt tear down the middle at the back as she was readied for her penalty. Cala leaned on the table in front of her, it was the Dragons and the seventeen year olds at its head were closest to her. They stared at her just as awed as everyone else, but they had respect in their eyes as well, after all Cala was just fourteen, whether they knew it or not tomorrow was actually her birthday. She continued to eat her slice of bread as the first blow made contact. She gritted her teeth and closed her eyes as the pain sank in.

Those bastards have put nails on the end of it!

She felt her skin slit open on the second crack. Some people were already looking away but they wouldn’t leave. They were too curious, they didn’t want to miss it if she snapped and got angry. But Cala wasn’t about to break. By the third whip some of the closer students started to look angry instead of sorry. By the fourth lash Cala ran out of bread and her hand hit the table in front with a hollow thud, her breathing already becoming short and sharp.

The nearest student, a seventeen year old called Donny, grasped the top of her hand and gently squeezed it for support. Cala’s head had fallen and she now lifted it with appreciation as the fifth thrash landed, so hard it almost sprawled her across the table edge and Cala let out the quietist of whimpers silently keeping the urge to produce a shield under wraps.

Donny grabbed another roll of bread and placed it in her hands. Cala smiled and as the sixth crack sounded she started laughing gently and helped herself to the glass of water in front of her.
Then came the seventh and she muttered "All hail Sir Oswald!" almost laughing, drunk on pain. The seventh hit and blood started to dribble down her legs and soak round the front of her shirt. Some gasped, lashes weren’t supposed to shed blood. Donny almost growled.

Bless him.

As the eighth lash landed Cala started to feel the loss of blood drain at her strengths and she closed her eyes willing herself not to faint, still holding onto Donny’s hand. It was large and it engulfed her small fingers protectively, warm and soft Cala smiled as the ninth lashing landed and his hand squeezed gently around hers.

It looked like she was going to lose consciousness. As the echo of the final flog sounded it bounced of the walls, doubling in noise all around Cala’s ears, but there was no reverberation, not a movement in the hall. As usual Ruffelm was the first to break the silence.

"I think, you should leave now," He stood up and there was no benevolence in his words, but they were not directed at Cala.
Spencer turned around to face Ruffelm and was gone the second he saw his expression.

Cala however never saw it, she straightened herself slowly, gasping occasionally at the implausible pain hacking away at her back as she turned to face the headmaster, and she forgot that in doing so she was showing the others in the hall the damage to her back. They didn’t gasp or call out but almost all; perhaps a few exceptions for the stronger willed White’s, were outraged at the open abuse Cala had just received.

She practically felt like smiling, the government had made a big mistake giving her a public prosecution. She had earned the right now, to forgiveness. Who could deny her now, after withstanding the wrath of students and ministry, the chance of a new beginning. Who could deny the fact that she'd changed.

"Sorry for…l-leaving, Apollo…I-" Cala couldn’t speak, she had been tired after the long ride and now she had, once again, no energy. Ruffelm called sensitively to Donny on the front row "As Simon seems not to be around again tonight will you please take Miss Hunt up to the medical ward,"

Donny nodded "But she’ll need bandaging in the least for the mess they have made of her back,"

"Bandages," he allowed "but she will heal herself," Ruffelm smiled knowingly at Cala and she realised suddenly why he had looked confused the day she had teleported into the hall a little late. He had acknowledged Cala’s ability to heal herself as the cuts Kancar’s nails had inflicted on her face on that first night had healed easily and with no after trace. Donny quickly conjured clean white bandages and with the aid of some others fixed them neatly around Cala's wounds.

Thanks Donny.

That was the first time anyone had ever spoken to him inside his own mind. He smiled, she was still strong.