Pride - 1. Chapter 1: That Damn Cat

Pride

Chapter One: That Damn Cat

Oh, God it is happening. The priest said to hold out as long as I could. But I am so beyond scared. I’ve already peed myself. How they laughed at that. I can’t believe I still have tears to shed or piss to wet myself with. No water for the last two days. Is that shit they are throwing at me now. It will be rocks soon. Just light the fire. I’m hurt and tired. And what they did to me last night. How many where there? How many times? They laughed at the blood too as they dragged me to the stake. The priest made me promise to hold out. If the pod was discovered, they would know it was him who gave it to me. So I promised to wait until they started the fire. Bite and swallow. Thirty seconds of agony and it would be done. Some people take fifteen minutes to burn alive. Because they cook you from the bottom up.

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PissBoy he was called. That was his job. Collecting the piss. From all the pots in the keep. Twice a day. Four score of pots. He also had to filter out the turds. They went in another pile. His mother had told him his name was Pride. An old name from the hill folk. It meant mountain lion. He was called “that damn cat” too. He didn’t look like the rest of the folk here. He had coal black hair and green eyes. And was long of body and sinewy. Everyone here was blond and broad, even the women. His mother had been the keep slut. Captured in a raid when she was thirteen. And the favorite of the men. Until she was killed by one of her lovers in a rage of jealousy. Pride’s job as pissboy started the day they dumped his mother’s body into the pit. He was eight then.

But this story began on his borning day. The day he became a man at sixteen summers. It was the Prince’s borning day too. They were the same age also. The Queen had died giving him birth. So, every year there was a celebration day. And Pride got a whole biscuit with some honey every year. This year it was the Prince’s Manning Day. A three day celebration. The Prince had to prove his worth in combat.

Swords. Bare Hands. Horseback. It was all very exciting. All very filling. Pride had never eaten better. Maybe he ate better when his mother was alive, but it was so long ago, the memories were fading.

On the third day of the celebration the Prince was crowned Heir and proclaimed a man. The ritual was long and everyone would be heading to the piss pots as soon as it was over, you could be sure. That is everyone who didn’t piss on the side of the temple. But all were commanded to attend and Pride stood in the outer porch of the temple listening to the words of what was going on as they where passed back thru the crowd.

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Pride was working as hard as he had ever worked. If he could get his job caught up, he could take a break and sneak a peek at the banquet. Maybe get a piece of pork, or chicken. But he had to be careful. He dare not spill the piss. The carters would be here soon to collect the vats for the compost pens and the fertilizer stills. The world starved, but here The Mother had taught her children well. Food was plentiful, not necessarily shared equally, but hunger was more of a punishment than a fact of life.

And the world came begging for the food surplus and it made the Crown the most powerful on the continent.

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“You are commanded to attend the King.” It was all Pride could do not to drop the pot. “What?” he stammered to the Captain of the Guard. “Put the piss down Cat and follow me now.” Two of the King’s Guard took him by the shoulders and pushed him forward.

The guards marched him to the main entrance to the keep and down the center hall to the doors of the banquet hall. These areas were forbidden to him. He had only glimpsed them before while hauling cleaning supplies for the house servants. The King would not call for him? Why are the guards doing this? And then he really began to panic. There were stories. About special games the guards sometimes played. The kind of games his mother had to participate in. Suddenly two giant doors where pushed open. And before him the splendor of the hall lay. But he couldn’t see any of it because his attention was fixed on one event. Every eye in the room was popped with the disbelief of it. The King and his only son and heir where rolling on the floor shouting and spitting. The King was the bigger man but he must have been drunk again. And the smaller Prince was slapping his father and shouting, “You bastard.”

The Captain of the Guard marched forward and pulled the Prince up and off of his father. Holding the Prince by the forearms. “Sire, we have brought the boy as you have commanded.”

“Good,” the King answered. “Crown Prince Hawkwing, may we introduce your half brother Prince Pride. Who we now recognized as our son and second in line to the throne."

“We cannot chastise the Crown Prince, but we can command that his brother stand in his stead. Sixteen solid lashes Captain. That sounds appropriate.”

In seconds the two guards had ripped Pride’s only garment to tatters leaving him in his breech clothe. He was stretched by his arms until he was standing bent over trying to stay on his feet. And before his thoughts could coalesce he felt the deep sting of the lash. It knocked the breathe out of his lungs and he was lost in choking gasping pain.