Debtor
by MissMarionette
“Next case.“Ms. Hailey Upright, Daughter of Hannah and Alex Upright, please stand.”
The arbiter’s voice is sharp-edged and ruthless, more likely to draw blood than a mishandled razor, honed through decades of tribune arbitration. It has the slight fry of old age bleeding in around the sides, but it’s quite clear that the years have not softened her stance. If anything, they may have fossilised it.
“Yes, Lady Arbiter.”
Hailey’s voice feels reedy and thin, here amongst the tapestries and fine leathers of the arbiter’s hall.
Paper is shuffled.
“I understand you have been assessed as Liable in your case against Lady Sarah Azov, is that correct?”
A dry, slightly pained sigh escapes into the room.
“Y-Yeah. I-I mean, yes, Lady Arbiter, that is... that is correct.”
A much more measured sigh, now; this one of fatigue after a long morning in the hall adjudicating case after case, knowing that lunch is but one sentencing hearing away.
“It says here you have been assessed as owing... hmm, three handweights of silver in compensation for the death of her horse, as it was a prizewinning beast, and a thumbweight of gold in compensation for the injuries sustained by her daughter.”
Breathless silence, for far too long.
“Ms. Upright?”
A shuddering gasp.
“Y-Y-Y-”
The killing sharpness of the Lady Arbiter’s voice softens, very slightly.
“It’s alright, girl. Take a moment.”
A soft sob. Hailey thinks wildly that it might have been easier if the arbiter had shouted.
“Th-Thank you, Ladysh-ship.“Yes. That is... is the amount owing.”
The arbiter’s voice holds that gentle kindness, still.
“I believe I know the answer, but I must ask. You don’t have to say anything... just... nod or shake your head, alright, girl?”
Two nods, barely there.
“Ms. Upright, this is a substantial sum, and our estimates place the total balance as higher than the value of your total assessed estate. Do you understand?”
A shaky nod, a little larger but a great deal weaker.
Dripping tears.
“Our assessment may not have been complete. Is it possible there still remain any additional assets that have not been yet assessed by our clerks?”
One sob, loud and gasping, before the clap of flesh on wet flesh rings out as Hailey clamps a hand across her own mouth.
A shake of the head, tears flicking from the tip of her nose.
“...I understand.
“Ms. Hailey Upright. Pursuant to the reclamation of lawfully-awarded compensation payable to the Lady Sarah, it has been found that the entire liquidation of your estate and affairs are still insufficient to make up the balance. In accordance with-
Gasping, wracking sobs. The echoes deaden against the rich velvet in red and gold that spill opulently down hardwood walls and onto thick sheepskin behind the Lady Arbiter’s desk.
“For goodness’ sake, someone get the poor woman a chair.
“In accordance with the law, and as the remaining balance is greater than the whole sum of the paid amount, I am forced to declare that you are to be sold into the service of the state for a period of no more than 7 years, who shall pay her Ladyship the amount payable on your behalf.”
The sobbing had stopped, now, but the tears flowed freely even still. An oddly young, almost childish little giggle came from the small wooden chair now seated at the feet of the Lady Arbiter’s dais.
A quiet but audible swallowing gulp could be heard that didn’t come from the madly giggling woman watching her life dissolve around her. Both knew what was coming.
“Additionally... it is understood that the... the plaintiff has petitioned the court for a, a special dispensation with regards to the specific nature of your... term of service.”
The arbiter paused again, lasting mere moments.
“Owing to the Lady’s station and the nature of the injury to her good daughter, it was requested that your service be carried out as... as a serving-girl at the forward base of Her Majesty’s Blue-and-Whites while they fight the Republic’s forces on the Eastern front.”
Not a sound remained but the soft reading of the sentence.
“This will act as...
The arbiter’s voice hardened, very slightly. There was a rustle as a small note was picked up between white-clenched fingers and read, verbatim.
“As a deterrent to those who may, in future, otherwise fail to properly clear the road of debris while their betters seek to ride in front of them.”
“I am directed that the dispensation has been awarded, and the term of service is to be undertaken as... as a serving-girl-
Her throat choked around the euphemism.
“-for the duration. However, as is my prerogative, I shall exercise my right to lessen the term to four years, owing to the... the special nature of the task.”
The Lady Arbiter, rings glittering from her ancient hand, raised the gavel.
“This case is adjourned.”
TACK! Wood on wood.
“Bailiff, see to-”
The sound in the room seemed, to Hailey, to grow very distant.
The light grew soft, then grey, then black.
There was a gentle thump as she slid off the chair.
Then nothing.
The rustle of crinkled papers fills the little chamber, stone-walled and stone-floored with a small drain set into the floor.
Forms are pulled from a pocket and are hurriedly smoothed as best as they can be against the table.
“Urgh. Give them here, girl.”
The voice isn’t deep, but it has a worn edge of vocal fry from too many battle-roars and too few songs. Under different circumstances, perhaps its owner could have been a beautiful alto.
“I, uh, it’s-”
Hailey’s voice is raw with fatigue, stress, and dehydration. They don’t give people enough to drink in the cells: it saves them from having to empty the buckets as often.
“Yeah, we know what it is. Just hand it over.”
“...Yes, Captain.”
Papers snatched from hand to hand. The sound of a finger moving across its wrinkled surface, gently crinkling it as the point travels.
A quiet whistle, discordantly jovial in the funeral-still staleness of the tiny cell with its wooden table and its leather straps, shrieks in the ears of all present.
“Four years, huh. Damn, you really pissed off the wrong person, didn’t you, bitch?”
Inhale.
“My name is H-”
“I don’t care.”
“-ailey.”
Somehow, the sound of the slap is in her ears before the pain of it is across her cheek.
“I do not give a shit what your name is, and in a few little sessions with the good nurse here...
The air in the room shivers as the captain’s arm sweeps across it to point at a woman slowly mixing powders in a glass vial.
“...neither will you. So shut that lovely, stupid mouth and stand there until you’re told to stop. Fuck but I hate it when they haven’t been broken in yet.”
The captain’s footsteps move across the room. There’s the sound of more papers being moved from in-tray to out-tray.
“Fuck but I hate it when they haven’t been broken in yet. Lucy, we ready yet?”
There is no reply, though the soft insinuation of fabric across skin suggests the woman in the corner had made some little hand gesture.
The captain’s footsteps, heavier in her leather and metal boots than Hailey’s bare feet as she moves across the worn-smooth tiles of the tiny room’s floor, track a path back towards a small wooden stool in the room’s corner.
The chink of metal on metal as the captain’s moderately-armoured frame raises an arm in vague gesture.
The captain’s footsteps, heavier in her leather and metal boots than Hailey’s bare feet as she moves across the worn-smooth tiles of the tiny room’s floor, track a path back towards a small wooden stool in the room’s corner.
The chink of metal on metal as the captain’s moderately-armoured frame raises an arm in vague gesture.
“You understand the process, girl? What have you been told?”
Hailey’s voice is much higher, much smaller than normal.
“You... it’s...
“You’re going to... to make me think things. Forget things. To make me better at, at doing what I- I need to do for my... service.
“So that it won’t be too... so that I won’t be distracted.”
The captain’s laughter is a grunting belly laugh, larger than the room it fills, and though it’s mirthful it isn’t kind.
“That’s a fuckin’ way to put it, too right.
“We’re going to empty out that pretty fucking head of yours to make room for all the whore training you’re going to need. And to make sure you don’t try to escape before your term is up, of course.”
The captain’s leather back-piece groans as she leans forwards.
“Not that you’d have anywhere to go. You’re going to Srebiśgrant, after all. Anywhere you run, you’ll be cut down by the fucking Partisans before they even find out how good of a fuck you are.”
Her cruel little smirk taints her words as she continues.
“And we WILL make you into a good fuck, bitch. Leastways once we remove all the stupid fucking beliefs that prisoners like you have any rights and fill your head with pussy and begging instead, anyway.
“Girls like you always say too much ‘no’ and not enough ‘more please, miss’, it’s bad for the solders’ morale. They don’t want to hear ‘no.’
“Girls like you don’t get to say ‘no.’”
Her mouth rolls around the sentence, enjoying the taste.
“Say it.”
Hailey’s tiny squeak echoes horribly in the enclosed stone space.
“What?”
Another derisive snort.
“Say. It.”
Three quick, pounding heart-beats; the sound of rushing blood through the ears.
“I-“But-”
Loud scraping of wood on stone as the little stool is kicked back and thuds against the wall behind it.
The captain’s boots make three short strides on the ground as she clears the distance, clanking metal sounds masked by the dull slap of Hailey’s body shoved against the wall in nothing but a thin prisoner shift, the captain’s hand on her throat.
The captain’s boots make three short strides on the ground as she clears the distance, clanking metal sounds masked by the dull slap of Hailey’s body shoved against the wall in nothing but a thin prisoner shift, the captain’s hand on her throat.
“Learn. Your. Place. Whore.
“You. Do not. Tell. ME. ‘NO.’
“Understand?”
The only sounds in the room are the spluttering, choking gasps escaping around the captain’s hand as it clamps Hailey’s throat against the wall; and the barely-audibly tinktinktink of a glass rod on a glass vessel as the silent Lucy stirs thick, oozing liquid into her vial of powder.
“UNDERSTAND, Shitbrains?”
Frantic nodding.
“Say it.”
A light body half-crumples to the floor, wheezing for breath.
“I-I-I don’t g-get to tell y-you no.”
Metal footsteps stalking back to their resting-place.
“And now without the pathetic fucking whimpers.”
Bare hands scrabbling against the wall, pulling half-naked legs back to their feet.
“I don’t get to tell you no, ma’am.”
The captain’s voice is once again tainted by a condescending smirk.
“Look at that, the new meat caught on pretty fast.
“Now. Get on the table, meat, and hands at your sides. This shit is pretty fucking noxious so we need to strap you down for the first few doses or you’ll thrash."Lucy, ready?”
Silence, then a little linen rustle. A nod.
“Finally.”
“Not sure what you’re waiting for, bitch. Table. Now.”
The room is filled with a sudden rush of motion, bare feet on stone, hands on wood. A harsh, metallic scrape as the table’s clawed iron feet shift, Hailey’s weight shaking the frame in her hurry to avoid another strike.
The fragile fabric of Hailey’s shift is adjusted to cover herself – as much as it can – and the room falls silent again, the young woman looking utterly alone lying back on the bare, unvarnished surface streaked with the water-stains of past tears.
And other liquids.
The fragile fabric of Hailey’s shift is adjusted to cover herself – as much as it can – and the room falls silent again, the young woman looking utterly alone lying back on the bare, unvarnished surface streaked with the water-stains of past tears.
And other liquids.
The captain sighs, heavily. The leather backing of her armour creaks once more as she stands.
Heavy footfalls across to the table, and all around it.
Cool swishing as leather straps are pulled tight around Hailey’s wrists, ankles, across her head.
Dull thuds as the buckles are dropped, carelessly. The hands doing this have done so many, many times before.
The captain lets out a dismissive half-sniffing, half-snorting sound.
“This is it then. You won’t be done after this session, understand, but this is the only one I’ll be giving you. The rest of your training will be at Srebiśgrant: I’m just meant to get you started and put in handling controls for the journey.”
Her tone has shifted, now: far less derisive, far more efficient. This speech has been given many times, certainly, but there’s something more to it than that. Hailey hasn’t been here long, but the captain hasn’t sounded this way before.
It sounds rehearsed.
No. It sounds programmed.
The captain continues, her tone flat.
It sounds rehearsed.
No. It sounds programmed.
The captain continues, her tone flat.
“It is customary for the prisoner to be granted a last statement before the serum is administered, to be recorded for posterity. Do you wish to make a statement?”
The buckles creak a little as the leather shifts around Hailey’s start of surprise.
“A... statement?
“...Yeah.
“Fuck you, Sarah, you highborn cunt. Your daughter didn’t even fucking break anything.”
“...That’s all.”
The sound of a pen-nib scratching gently against paper.
Then, the captain’s armour chinks, quietly. A nod.
“The statement has been added to your record.
“Open your mouth.”
For almost three seconds, absolute silence.
Then, an almost-inaudible sob.
A damp, sticky sound. Hailey’s tongue is almost too dry to unstick from the roof of her mouth as it opens.
Another metallic nod.
Then, an almost-inaudible sob.
A damp, sticky sound. Hailey’s tongue is almost too dry to unstick from the roof of her mouth as it opens.
Another metallic nod.
“Nurse.”
Wooden clogs clacking on the floor. Four steps, her legs a little shorter than the captain’s tall, muscled self.
A pop, as the vial is uncorked. The liquid inside releases quiet, glooping bubbles, and Lucy holds it motionless until it settles back to a quiet, motionless honey-like syrup.
A pop, as the vial is uncorked. The liquid inside releases quiet, glooping bubbles, and Lucy holds it motionless until it settles back to a quiet, motionless honey-like syrup.
“Your term of service has begun.
“Drink.”
Soft hands, so unlike the rough calluses of the captain, brush smoothly past Hailey’s ear to grip her chin and hold it open.
The glass rim of the vial tinks quietly on her teeth.
The liquid inside pours sluggishly into her mouth. She makes no attempt to stop it.
The empty vial is removed, her mouth closed.
The glass rim of the vial tinks quietly on her teeth.
The liquid inside pours sluggishly into her mouth. She makes no attempt to stop it.
The empty vial is removed, her mouth closed.
“Swallow.”
She obeys.
The format of this story is – for me, at least – highly experimental. The narrative is highly dialogue-driven and intentionally leaves as much as possible to the imagination of the reader, rather than explicitly stated. As such, if you like the format, please comment or shoot me a message to say so – and ESPECIALLY if you think it could use some work. I am very open to constructive criticism! Thanks.