Suddenly I know where we are going.
“No... Oren...”
He doesn’t turn his head. He doesn’t even act as though he can hear me. He walks toward that concrete wall. The place I first saw the horrors. I don’t want to see them again. I know if I look again, it will not be the faces of strangers I will see...
“Come. On.”
He is impatient. He doesn’t understand why I am so terrified. Or perhaps he does. Perhaps my punishment is to see what should never be seen, to have more horror written in my mind...
There is a gate now. Perhaps there always was and I just didn’t see it. Oren waits next to it, his tall frame taut with impatience.
“I can’t go in there,” I try to explain.
He grabs me by the back of my shirt and drags me through the gate. The scream I have on my lips dies when I see what is behind the gate.
The field of horrors is gone. It is grass, and where bodies once lay contorted on the ground, there are neat markers.
Oren drags me across to the far end, where five dark obsidian statues stand sentry over the other markers.
“Do you know what those are?”
I look at them, feeling guilt weighing me down, dulling my senses. They depict men. Five strong men, eyes raised to the east, where the king’s building stands.
“These are the men who died for you,” he says, his voice heavy with the grief we both feel. “These are the men who will have died in fucking vain if something happens to you before your natural time.”
“I’m sorry...”
“Stop saying that,” he snaps, his face contorted with agitation. “You’re not sorry. You don’t know what sorry is. You say sorry, and then you do whatever you want. Because you know we aren’t going anywhere. You know we will follow you to the ends of the earth...”
“You will?”
“Yes,” he growls. “I would die for you, Trissa.”
It would be sweet, if he wasn’t snarling it at me.
“I...”
“Don’t you fucking dare say you’re sorry,” he growls.
“I’m not worthy of this,” I say, finishing my sentence. “I know I’m not. If I wasn’t a female, I’d be in there with them. I know I don’t deserve any of this attention. I know I wouldn’t be getting it if it wasn’t for...”
“Stop!” He snaps the word at me as I descend into self-pity again.
“Be worthy, Trissa,” he says. “Be worthy of the sacrifice they made for you. Have your babies. Raise them. Don’t ever take a single breath for granted.”
I nod solemnly. This is a lot to take in, but I try not to hide from what he’s showing me, the stark reality of all that has happened.
“You think more of me than some of the others. Thank you.”
“What do you mean?” He cocks his head to the side curiously.
“They fuck me. They spank me. They lecture me. You expect me to be better. I’m going to try to be better.”
He nods and puts his hand on my shoulder. “I do think you’re worthy,” he says. “I think you’re capable of being great. And I think you are our partner. Not our captive. We shouldn’t have to constantly beat you into sensible obedience.”
“I guess you shouldn’t,” I agree, hanging my head.
“We’re going to have more to protect than just you soon. We’re going to have Tore’s baby. And that little one is going to be trouble,” Oren says. “Tore and you combined? I don’t know if any of us will survive that.”