Set Them Free: Chapter 1

Set Them Free: Chapter 1

A Chapter by Dytalus

 He treats them well, considering their position. Provides them with food, a place to call home and some measure of safety. But all things considered, it does not make everything alright.


There is one family I'm watching now, I try to keep out of their way as best I can. We are just the guardians, the ones who keep order. We aren't supposed to help them. They're happy with what they have, bless their souls. The father goes to work everyday from sunrise to sunset in the fields, the coarse soil covers his hands when he returns home, and his skin is burnt under the sun. At the weekend the two children " a beautiful daughter and son " walk the two hours into town to sell their father's bounty at the local market. They return home with money which the mother saves in a small box they hide under the floor of their wooden hut.


I follow the children as they walk the road. It's a long walk, and they usually run out of things to talk about. On the days where the sun is particularly unforgiving, I break the laws and walk alongside them. They think I'm a travelling magician, and I offer them small rewards after they watch my tricks. A bucket of cool water, a basket of apples, just enough to make the trip more comfortable for the children. I'm not supposed to but those of us who keep watch can hide our deeds from the master. They invited me home for dinner once, but I had to decline.


The system has worked like this for as long as I can remember. There are those who serve, those who watch and then the master. A king amongst all of us. Those who serve are granted free reign over their own lives, so long as they don't break the law. Some till the fields, others write books. They live in their small little community, and those who watch keep the law. We are the police, the soldiers and the guards. We live to obey, because we are not given the leeway the servants are. I don't agree with it, but it works. We live a better life than the servants anyway, so I suppose it's all worth it. We walk the streets and the roads, making sure no-one is causing trouble and if they are we bring them to the King for judgement. I'm told that in the future the King hopes that they will govern themselves, but I cannot see it happening. They are so simplistic the servants, not that I want to insult them. They can only learn what they are allowed to learn, and it is hard to govern one's self when one cannot know what is needed.


The family is cooking dinner now, and I hide outside the window. I smell the putrid aroma of the meat they have as it cooks. How I wish I could give them something more delectable, but the King insists that we are to remain separate, and I do not doubt that another Guard is watching somewhere for me to break some rule. The meat boils and stews, and within the hour the family sit around the tiny table they have in their house. Their clothes are filthy and tattered, they have not bought new clothing in many months, and the son's arms are covered in scars. He was mugged last night while outside playing, and the bruises still tarnish his chubby, childish face.


I remember that fight. Three older men attacked him while he was hunting for a rabbit. He had been chasing the furball for some time when the men cornered him. I could actually smell the fear from the child as the men pushed him in circles, before kicking him to the ground and taking the few small coins he had in his pocket. Their stench revolted me and their callous nature infuriated me. The leader was a butch giant of a man, missing several teeth and with a hideous wound over his right eye. I was torn between my duty and my wish to protect the child. Such small fights are not to be touched by the Guards, the King says they build character. I had to watch as they laughed, as the boy wept and called for his mother. When at last they left I moved forward, adorned n my armour the child did not recognise me as the magician from the roads. I lifted him, caressed him, stroked his hair. I dressed his wounds and carried home, making him promise not to tell his parents. He hasn't. He's a good child.


Plates are prepared and after a quick prayer the family begins to eat. The sound of their feasting draws me back to the present and I watch as the flavourless meat slips down their throats, followed shortly after by small, frugal sips of water. I can tell by the smell that the meat will be bad for them, someone will get sick. I can only hope it's not the daughter. I like the daughter, she's a pretty little thing with a smart head on her shoulders. I can only hope it's not the daughter.


I leave them to eat in privacy and begin my travels back to the King's home, to his throne and castle. The journey passes quickly, and I keep myself occupied by glancing in at the lives of the servants I pass. A man is tucking his daughter into bed, a wife makes love to her husband, a man rapes a woman in an alley.


Such interesting lives these servants lead, and I would so wish to interact and punish the deserving. But there are specific laws we can intervene on, and I am forced to abide, lest I lose my position and suffer at the hands of the King. I continue on my way and ignore the daily lives of those beneath me. I see the next shift of Guards leave the gates and I wave at some friendly faces that I recognise. They wave back, allow myself and the others incoming to pass through the gates and then finally close the entrance behind them.



© 2011 Dytalus


My Review

Would you like to review this Chapter?
Login | Register




Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

139 Views
Added on August 19, 2011
Last Updated on August 19, 2011


Author

Dytalus
Dytalus

Kilquade, Wicklow, Ireland



Writing