To Rise or Fall: Chapter 7

Bana refused to move. She ignored any of the women that came to her. She ignored the folded blanket she was supposed to drape around her shoulders and the cold food she was to have eaten hour ago. She even ignored Len and her soft spoken words.

She was glad that the infirmary differed from any other room in the brothel. Where the other rooms consisted of a palate of at least four cheerful colors, there seemed to be only brown and white in the infirmary. The walls and floor were made of the same rough dark wood. While the other rooms had candles galore, filling the room with light and a scent that irritated her nose, the only light that burned here was the early sunlight forcing its way through sheer white curtains and a single candle on the healer’s desk. It suited her mood and helped some to quiet her raucous thoughts that made less and less sense as they ricocheted around her skull.

She kept her eyes on Elmanya and spoke to her in a soft whisper, telling her all of the stories she knew, funny or sad, truth or myth.

The girl’s eyes would flutter up and lock onto Bana’s. It would look like she was going to say something important, but she would just murmur or call for her mother. During those times, Bana would happily playact, brushing her hair back from her brow, singing a lullaby. The only time she did nothing was when Elmanya screamed and thrashed.

She knew what memory tormented the girl, and she hadn’t done anything to stop its birth. She was impotent against stopping the nightmares. When the screams started for the third time since she had sat down, Bana stood and started to back away, her own memories flashing above the scene before her, memories she wanted to bury forever.

Ghym slammed the door open, her eyes flashing. The healer in the room stood, her face dark, saw who it was and turned away, disappearing behind a curtain that hid one of the two other infirms.

“Are you done sulking yet?” she demanded, barely sacrificing a glance for the poor girl writhing on the bed. “Fat lot of good you’re doing her anyways.”

Bana’s face burned. “I’ve been a help,” she breathed. Her eyes were cool, and her hands didn’t shake. Cold, hard rage knotted in her chest, and she gave her mentor a brittle smile. “She needs me.”

“She needs no one. Nothing can be done. God children eat the mothers from within. Instead of sucking milk, they suck life. You have heard the myths.” Ghym crossed her arms. “You made a promise to us by allowing us to take you in. You would have wallowed in the streets or withered away in the temple, but we saved you. You support the house by bringing in money because you owe a debt.”

“Saved me?” The question was quiet and smooth. She laughed, and it was hard. “You lured me in because I was dumb and ignorant. You said what you had to, and now that I’m defying the orders of the great god and the puppet-ˮ

Ghym slammed her against the wall, her hand hard against Bana’s mouth. She glanced at the curtain where all had gone peculiarly silent. “Do not say such things where others may be listening,” she hissed, her mouth so close to Bana’s ear that Bana could hear her teeth clicking against each other. “I would not stoop so low as to betray one so unused to our ways, but others wouldn’t hesitate. The reward for reporting blasphemers is great.” She backed away quickly and said much louder but with no less sincerity. “You chose to be here. You pay the price. You are fallen now. Even if you could escape us, no one would have you. Your life would be worse than when I first found you.”

Bana was shaken now. Her words were still soft but no longer with purpose. “As you are what brought me here, Elmanya followed me. I am the reason she’s lying there.” Her voice wavered.

Her mentor would take no pity. She scoffed. “By that reasoning I am the cause of the unhappiness of half the girls in this house.”

Bana said nothing to Ghym’s reply, just blinked at her.

“I am not.” Her volume seemed to surprise even her because she lowered her voice immediately. “You are a stupid little girl who’s disappointed that her future no longer consists of the soonest party! You will leave her. Chance was her killer, not you.”

“Chance also picked my customer yesterday as well, I suppose,” Bana cried, refusing to lower her voice, even when the healer peeked her head out from behind the curtain. “Not you.” She smiled sickeningly at Ghym who glanced at the angry healer.

“Come down. If you hurry you may be able to get a meal before we have to leave.” Her voice was husky and her expression was of complete seriousness. “If you continue to refuse me, I’ll be forced to tell our mistress. If you think I am cruel, as you so obviously do, you will think she is akin to the great god, you referenced earlier.” She nodded to the healer who was still watching. “O how merciful he is.”

“He does not punish the unworthy.”

Ghym looked at Elmanya, her face unreadable. She shook her head. “I know it is so.” She pinned Bana with a glare. “I’ll have to teach you all of the statements that have certain responses. I’ll give you five minutes to come down.” She strode out of the room without another word.

Bana stood there for three minutes, staring at the rough wooden floor. She went to Elmanya, bent to press her lips against the girl’s brow, and left.

~.~.~

Merin had a hard time waking under the influence of Kurgris, but she had watched other initiates get flipped out of their beds, hit with hands or thin rods some of the sisters liked to carry. As they filed out of the huge corridor they all slumbered in, Merin did everything she could, so she would be properly awake by the time they reached the sanctuary.

One sister had fallen asleep. The next day Merin had happened to brush by her. There were hundreds of tiny pin marks on the skin she could see. It reminded her of how cloth looked when one made a mistake in embroidery and pulled stitches out. The sister sat very straight now at morning services.

“Hello, my children.” The mother, head of all the sisters and initiates, stood at the front of the sanctuary. Light streamed in from windows in the ceiling at the noon service. Now, in the early morning, the room was dim. Even with the light, it was a severe room. Grey statues in various forms of humility and worship posed throughout the sanctuary. The room was of the same gray stone as the rest of the building and the room as were the pews which seemed to be one with the floor. There were no tapestries, no stained glass windows.

Merin had thought the mother would be old, but she was actually of a similar age. There were several older sisters available. They all seemed to bow easily to the mother’s authority. Merin had no opinion of her.

She replied with the rest of the congregation, “Hello, mother.”

“The goddess is smiling upon you this morning.”

“And you.”

She raised her arms, her sleeves falling back to reveal scarred arms. Merin had not been close enough to see what pattern they formed, but it was obvious they were purposeful. “You goddess grants you mercy. Any sinful deed you did, any sinful thought that passed through your mind is forgiven.”

“We owe her our lives.” Merin said this every morning. She still wasn’t sure if she believed it or not.

“Be grateful she has lifted you from the filth of humanity, saved you from her brother.”

“We praise her.”

There was then ten minutes of absolute silence where they were told to meditate unworthiness, the sins they had committed the day before, and- if there were not sufficient sins- to think of the ones they would during the coming day. It seemed to Merin like a way for poor sleep deprived initiates and sisters to fall asleep.

“Go out. Do your mother proud.”

Merin turned, waiting for those in front of her to file out.

“Initiate!”

Several heads turned, but Merin paid the call no mind. The girl behind her nudged her. Looking from the back of the one ahead of her, Merin met a thin lipped sister’s stern gaze. “The mother wishes to speak to you.”

Merin’s chest constricted. The initiates around her went completely silent. There wasn’t even the sound of cloth rustling as someone moved. “Why?” she asked, bewildered.

The sister squinted at her. “Are you one to question the mother?”

Merin bent her head humbly. “No. Of course not.”

“Come with me.”