Heart of Flesh

Michael Bonett, Jr.

        

         My uncle stood before our entire class. He wore dark blue robes, a silver crown, and a coral necklace. His earrings were silver, and shaped like wolves. He paced back and forth before us, looking each of us in the eye. Behind him, Sargon’s Brigade stood, glaring down at all of us, trying to guess who would become citizens, who would become slaves, and who would die.

         “Our ancestors fought over this land for six hundred years,” my uncle said, “until the Alcanians came. They conquered us, and made us their slaves, so we cried out to Ashur, and he heard our plea. He brought the princes and princesses of all our tribes here, where Nineveh once stood, to fight to the death, to determine who would lead us, the nation of Yangvaad, to freedom. The strongest survivors of that tournament sent the Alcanians back to the land of snow and ice in the west. That is why, after every two years, of school you all will fight to the death.”

         Four days before Lammy died, he was holding me in his lap. I was five years old. Eiric walked back and forth.

         “Lammy...why doesn’t Eiric ever sit still?” I asked.

         “He is excited, Sandy.” Lammy had always called me Sandy because of my freckles. “This year, he and I will graduate from the Acad, and become Untouchables!”

         “If Ashur lets us keep our heads,” Eiric smirked.

         “What does he mean?” I asked.

         “You haven’t told her, Lammy?” Eiric asked. “She’s only got a year left. I told my sister last year.”

         “What did he tell her, Lammy?” I asked him.

         Lammy glared at Eiric, then looked at me and said, “To enjoy your final year, Sandy. Before the trials begin.”

         I wished I had never heard of trials! I was only six, and after my uncle gave his speech, we had to fight. When I walked into the pit, the ground was dark with blood. The shamans were carrying the body away.

         “Is she breathing?” I asked the judge.

         “Take your place.” The judge pointed to a line in the dirt.

         “Is she breathing?” I asked again.

         A large hand slapped my face.

         “Do you want to go to school? Do you want to grow up to be a strong, healthy, smart girl?” the judge yelled at me. “Then take your place!”

         I held my stinging face and ran over to the line. In front of me they put another girl. She was short, small, and had curly dark-red hair.

         “You see that girl?” the judge asked. “She is tiny, and weak. Probably stupid, too. You kill her, and you will get double rations of food and drink all eight years, and one extra hour of play!”

         “You!” The judge glared at her. “Just try not to die!”

         I heard the crack of a tazerwhip. I wanted to fight, have always wanted to be a warrior, like my brothers and sisters. But this was not the same. Not the same at all. The girl struck at me as hard as she could. I did all the footwork Lammy had taught me, evading each blow. The girl finally became more and more tired, and was crying. I could not let her go on, could not let the people laugh at her anymore. So I chopped her across the side of her forehead, and she fell.

         “Now slam your hand into her throat!” The judge commanded.

         I leaned over her, and raised my hand. Everyone cheered. I looked down at the girl. I started crying. The judge growled.

         “The gods know it will be hard for you to have a heart of stone at your age. Go with the other winners.” He called a shaman over. “Heal this other girl. She survived, so she gets in. This year, Odinia’s Compass pointed in her direction. She managed to face a—” The judge curled his lip at me. “—a fleshheart.”

         Three days before Lammy died, I caught him healing Eiric’s arm. It was the first time I ever saw so much blood. Lammy wiped it off with a piece of cloth, then burned the wound with a solar-rod.

         “Who did this to you?” Lammy asked.

         “The brother of someone I killed in the trial two years ago. I was buying sour-pears at the market when he attacked me with a shocker.”

         “You should know better than to walk around by yourself,” Lammy said, “You’ve killed a kinsman of a noble family at each trial. Their relatives are going to come after you as much as they can, before you become an Untouchable.”

         “You should take your own advice,” Eiric grinned. “You have not lost a trial since we began going to the Acad. Whoever kills you in the next trial becomes an Untouchable without going before the Council of Nineveh. And since you’re a fleshheart, they know you won’t kill them if they attack you, so they are going to be trying to injure you as much as they can before the trials begin. You should not walk around alone, either.”

         “From now on, we go tandem,” Lammy said. “No killing, though. Not unless—”

         “You’re in a war, or you can’t run away.” Eiric rolled his eyes. “I know.”

         Lammy looked at me. I froze, but he just smiled, and waved me away with his hand.

         When I emerged from the corridor into the dining hall, I heard a screech. I turned around. Through the dim light, I saw the redhead biting a girl holding a shocker. The electrified knife fell to the stone floor and shot out sparks.

         “She was going to stab Sandra!” The redhead pointed at the other girl when the judges pulled them apart.

         Someone tried to stab me? I felt like I had just been covered with snow. What did I do?

         “Sell her to the slavers!” the lead judge said to the others, who grabbed the girl who had held the shocker. “You.” He pointed to the redhead. “Maybe you will get a heart of stone after all. Double portions!”

         “Praise Tiglath! More food!” The redhead grinned.

         She walked beside me as we got our food. The top of her head only came to my chin.

         “You are one of the strong ones,” she said, “so everyone is going to come after you. Let’s sit down.”

         “Why me?” I asked.

         “They kill you, they don’t have to fight you. They get to fight someone else who they can beat. Then they can stay in the Acad, and avoid becoming a slave. Want to share my pomegranate?”

         I took the blue seeds she handed to me and ate them.

         “My name is Schyla, and I want to know why you did not kill me.”

         “You lost. There was no need,” I replied.

         She looked at me for a long time.

         “I would have killed you.”

         “Why?” My eyes flooded with tears.

         “Because that is what we are supposed to do,” Schyla said, handing me a cloth. “My brother told me when I was four. We need to do that, to get hearts of stone so we can defeat our enemies. That way, we won’t ever be slaves again. He is in Sargon’s Brigade. Do you have brothers?”

         “Yes,” I nodded, wiping my eyes. “But one of them was killed in his final trial.”

         Schyla put her hand on my shoulder. “Those who die in battle go straight to Skadi’s palace. That’s what my brother told me.”

         Two days before Lammy died, we were hiking in the forest. I held his hand. All around us, the birds were having what he called choir practice. Eiric jumped every time a twig broke.

         “Got dragon-pixies in your trousers, Eiric?” Lammy asked.

         “Nothing wrong with being alert,” Eiric said. “Never know when a wolf-ape or an eel-mouse can come out to sup, now can you?”

         “Wolf-apes always hunt at night, eel-mice early in the morning. It’s afternoon, Eiric. Relax.”

         “I am always relaxed. Ah!”

         A six-winged, white-and-gold-striped bird appeared and attacked Eiric. Dust flew from its wings like sparks coming out of a fire. I screamed.

         “Seraph dove, that’s all, Sandy!” Lammy said. He took blue pomegranate seeds out of his pocket, and fed the bird with them. He gave some to me. Trembling, I walked forward. The bird was so big, and terrifying, but at the same time, so beautiful. It followed us all the way home, its dust dancing behind it like tiny fairies.

         “We’re being followed!” Schyla hissed. A chubby girl with deep-set brown eyes, blond hair, and wearing a wool skirt was behind us.

         Schyla turned around, her hands balled into fists.

         “Who sent you to knife us?”

         The girl looked at Schyla, shook her head, and showed us her hands. They were empty. She doesn’t look like she wants to hurt us, I thought. But the girl who attacked Schyla yesterday looked harmless, too.

         “She probably is afraid to walk by herself,” I said. “Would you like to walk with us?”

         The girl nodded. I smiled at her and took her by the hand, making sure she walked slightly in front of us just in case she was dangerous.

         “Have you forgotten me?” the girl asked.

         Forgotten? We met before? I looked at her. Those eyes!

         The crowd was screaming. A girl was on her knees in front of me. Slay her! the judges shouted. I raised my leg, to do as they asked...and it soared over her head.

         I had buried my face in my hands. Why am I so weak? I had thought at the time. Why cannot I be like the other children, who did not fear delivering death, as the gods desired us to do?

         “I have a present for you,” the girl said. “A brooch. It is a Seraph dove. I want you to have it, so Odinia’s compass always points in your direction.”

         I took the brooch from her and clasped it onto my tunic.

         “Rewarding her for being a fleshheart? Ugh!” Schyla said. “With that sort of encouragement, we will be overrun within a few years!”

         The day before Lammy died, I sat on his lap, eating pastries.

         “How come the baker always gives you free food?” Eiric whined, drinking coffee.

         Lammy looked at him and smiled.

         “Oh, right. You spared his son. Congratulations. One more boy gets to experience ignoble slavery, instead of a valiant death.”

         “Ignoble? Where did you learn that word, Eiric?”

         “From the texts of Ashur, which you never read. The great Dragon of the Sea is the one who taught our ancestors how to fight. Because of him, we are free, Lammy. You should take him more seriously.”

         “But then I would not get so many pastries, Eiric!” Lammy grinned.

         Eiric slammed his fork into the table. “Do not ever take Ashur lightly, Lammy! He is our god, and we are his people. Without him, we would still be mining for the Alcanians. It is good that we have these trials. That way, our weak and our sickly die at the hands of our brothers on the battleground, going straight to Skadi’s palace in the afterlife, instead of fading into oblivion in the mountains of the Westerners.”

         Lammy stared at Eiric, not saying a word. But as he fed me, I noticed that he had stopped smiling.

         “Breakfast!” Toni said, bringing in some pastries. Her hair was as dark as Lammy’s, only it came down to her waist. She had invited Schyla, Ian and me to stay at her home during our first vacation days from the Acad.

         “My mother made them just for you, Sandra, a new recipe with blue pomegranate!”

         Pomegranate! I stuffed my face to celebrate all of us surviving our third trial.

         “Hey! Thank Ashur first!” Schyla said. “Just because you disobey him in the trials does not mean you can disobey him elsewhere."

         “How do I disobey Ashur?” I asked.

         “By being a fleshheart!” Schyla said, “Ian, Toni, and I have all fulfilled our duty, and killed those who were not strong enough to defend Ashur’s nation. But you, Sandra, have defied him, letting the weak live, so they can become loose knees in our armies!”

         “But none of you would be here, if I killed everyone I defeated,” I replied.

         Schyla overturned the tray of pastries and stomped out of the room. Toni went after her. What did I do wrong, now? I looked at Ian.

         “The trials...they are getting to her, Sandra,” Ian said. “The older we get, the closer we are to those we kill. Schyla, as much as she wants to be like her brother...” She leaned in close to me. “Did you notice that she never sleeps?”

         I shook my head.

         “At night, she just lies in bed. Then she puts a sound blanket over her face, and she cries.”

         It was the morning of the day that Lammy died. I watched from underneath a sound blanket as he and Eiric argued.

         “It is the final trial, Lammy! And you have not lost since the first. Everyone will be trying to slay you. You postponed it for too long; now is the time. No more mercy! Slay your opponents, to strike fear in them, so that you can live, and join Sargon’s Brigade.”

         “I will do nothing that I have not done in the past three trials, Eiric,” Lammy said.

         “I do not understand you! Why spare those who wish you dead?”

         “A murderer like you would never understand.”

         “Those boys knew they could lose their life in these trials. I am no more guilty of murder here than I would be on the battlefield.”

         “That pit is not a battlefield! It is a hole in the ground, dug so that a bunch of old men and women can watch us kill each other for sport!”

         “That is not a sport! That is a gift, taught to our ancestors in Nineveh, a method to ensure that only the strongest of us survive!”

         “Why do only the strong deserve to survive? Did they create themselves? Did you decide when you were born? Did you decide how big your muscles were going to be? No! Your body was given to you as a gift, and that’s what life should be. A gift for everyone. Not just for the strong.”

         “What you are saying goes against Ashur himself! You are challenging our god!”

         “I am challenging YOUR god!” Lammy screamed, casting the idol of Ashur into the fire.

         Eiric’s face turned almost as red as his hair.

         “Lammy...I loved you more than my own brother. But now you have gone too far. Should we meet in the trial, do not spare me...for I will not spare you!”

         He turned around and walked away. Lammy’s eyes followed him for a while, then he watched the idol burn.

         We were twelve when Ian died. Schyla killed her in the trial. Four years... I watched Schyla look at the body get carried away by the shamans. Four years...and nothing. So that is what a heart of stone does to you. I touched the brooch on my mantle. Back inside the castle, we ate. My pomegranate sat on my plate. Toni stared at Ian’s empty seat on the hoverlift bench. Schyla did not look at either of us.

         “How did it feel, Schyla?” I asked, coldly. “How did it feel...to kill someone who was like a sister to you?”

         Schyla poured coffee out of her pouch and stirred it with a solar-rod.

         “It is what...we are supposed to do. That’s what my brother told me. That’s all that he told me.” She looked at Ian’s seat. “Do you want your pomegranate?”

         I rolled the piece of fruit over to her.

         “She would not have killed you,” I said.

         I stood up and walked away. I felt numb and cold. Schyla did what she was supposed to do. What we were all supposed to do. We were Yangvaadans, blessed with hearts of stone. Stone did not feel. Stone could not feel. Stone was dead, like Schyla would be, when we met in the final trial.

         It was morning, the day that Lammy died, shortly after Eiric left.

         “I know you are wearing a sound blanket, Sandy. Come out,” Lammy said.

         I walked out timidly. He picked me up and set me on the hoverlift bench. He handed me a rock. It was dark blue, cold, hard, and wet from the rain.

         “Now feel my hand.”

         I touched his hand. It was warm, and soft.

         “One is of stone. The other is of flesh. What is the difference?”

         “Flesh is soft,” I said.

         “True, but there is something else,” Lammy said. “Flesh has life. Flesh breathes. Flesh feels. Stone can do neither, because it is dead. When you grow older, you will be told that you need to get a heart of stone. But never forget this, Sandy. Stone has no life...and neither does a heart that is made out of it.”

         “Schyla wishes that you would talk to her again, Sandra,” Toni said. We were both thirteen, and she had grown taller than me in the past year.

         “In the final trial, it will be settled,” I spat. There were no boys around.

         “Settled?” Toni asked, looking slightly revolted.

         I stared at her. Toni squeezed her eyes shut, then took a deep breath.

         “Do you know what taking a life is like, Sandra?” Toni asked. “At first, you feel nothing. But afterwards, you are swimming with weights around your ankles. You want to finish the lap, but you can barely stay afloat. Ian once described it as drowning. That is what Schyla is doing...she is drowning. Like everyone else...save you.”

         It was noon, the day that Lammy died. While the others were waiting anxiously around the courtyard of the Acad, glaring at each other, Lammy just smiled and fed a Seraph dove. Eiric was looking at him, but when Lammy looked up, Eiric curled his lip and looked away.

         The final trial. I was fourteen. I fed a Seraph dove in the courtyard. Schyla walked up to me.

         “May Odinia’s compass point in your direction during your trial,” she said.

         I did not look at her. I saw Schyla’s foot kick dust at the Seraph dove, and then I heard her sobbing.

         Eiric attacked Lammy in a rage. Lammy ducked and weaved to evade Eiric’s fists. He feinted to Eiric’s face; Eiric raised his hand to block, and Lammy kicked him in the side, then used his other leg to sweep him. Eiric fell to the ground. Lammy grabbed his neck and started choking him. Everyone cheered.

         “Kill him! Kill him!”

         All of Eiric’s enemies, the relatives of those he killed, were laughing and jeering, yelling that the gods had answered their prayers for vengeance. My uncle cheered for blood loudest of all. Lammy looked at them, horrified, then he glared at my uncle, and let Eiric go.

         Schyla had shown no mercy in her past trials. Now it was her turn. I was still much taller than her, and stayed out of her reach, striking her torso with the ball and heel of my feet. I kicked her knees, so that she fell, and I grabbed her by the hair. I pulled her head back, exposing her neck. I raised my hand and—

         I felt my heart beat in my chest. I saw Lammy fall, his nose crushed into his face by Eiric’s knee. I screamed. The shamans pulled him out of the pit. Blood...so much blood!

         “Is he alive? Please let him be alive!” I yelled.

         Eiric looked up, saw me, then looked away, a tear falling down his face.

         I let Schyla go.

         It was twenty days after Lammy died. I snuck out of our home to go to his burial mound. But there was a man there from Sargon’s Brigade. He took off his helmet, and saluted the mound. His hair was bright red.

         Slavery, or citizenship. That was what the Council of Nineveh, a group of retired generals who had served with honor in our wars, would decide for us, the ones who had not been strong enough to kill. Those granted citizenship would be branded by a captain in Sargon’s Brigade, a soldier personally chosen by these men to have the honor to mark those whom they declared “Untouchable.” I stood, and waited. I was next; Toni was after me, for refusing to slay her final opponent as well. Before me, a girl trembled, while each member of the council walked back and forth before her. She looked down. Blood poured out of her throat, and she died.

         “Only weaklings do not look a man in the eye!” the general yelled, cleaning his shocker. “Weak mothers bear weak children! They shall have no part in our empire as slave or Untouchable! You, fleshheart!” He looked at me. “Come forward! Just because your uncle is the Emperor does not mean you are exempt from this!”

         Toni squeezed my hand before I walked forward. I looked each general in the eye when they paced in front of me. My chest became tight, and the muscles in my neck swelled up. My accomplishments were read from a cuneiform tablet by the captain. Perfect marks, all eight years of school. Undefeated in the pit. No kills. The generals lined up at once before me when they were done.

         “Slave!” the first general yelled.

         All the others nodded. I stopped breathing. The captain looked at the generals. He walked in front of them and took off his helmet. He was a redhead.

         “When I was in the west, we attacked a fortified Alcanian city,” the captain said.  “Their forces outnumbered us ten to one. We sent a woman to assassinate their tribune, but instead, she kidnapped his son. Instead of killing her, I had her kidnap the sons of the rest of the nobles. They surrendered without a fight. In this manner, we took ten cities of the Alcanians.”

         After that, he stopped speaking. The generals spoke amongst themselves, then nodded at the captain. He grabbed the citizen’s brand, and walked over to me. My eyebrows shot up when I saw his face.

         “The victories over those cities, just like my life, belong to your brother, whose name I am not worthy to speak,” Eiric whispered.

         He placed the brand against my arm. My skin burned like lava. “Untouchable!”

         At Lammy’s burial mound, after Eiric saluted, he put some blue pomegranate seeds into his hand. A little girl with dark, curly red hair ran forward, saluted the mound as well, then took pomegranate seeds from her brother’s hand and fed the Seraph doves.

         Twenty days after Toni and I became Untouchables, I made a sacrifice to Skadi beside Lammy’s burial mound. I held a stone in my hand, and had a blue pomegranate in my pocket. Lammy...I promise you, that until Skadi opens the gates to her palace for me in the afterlife, that I will never allow myself to become like this. I hurled the stone as far away from me as I could, then I walked to Ian’s burial mound. Toni and Schyla were already there. Since Schyla had lost in the final trial, she was automatically a slave. Toni had told me she planned to convince her parents to buy her, and while I watched from a distance, she took a key and released Schyla from her chains. I waited, listening to what she said.

         “Though my parents bought you, they know you are my friend. Under the law, you will be my slave, but in my heart, you are no less a citizen than I.” Toni threw the chains into the sacrificial fire by the mound.

         “Thank you, Toni,” Schyla said, then she saw me. She looked away, toward Ian’s burial mound.

         I walked over. Toni stepped away to tend to the fire. A Seraph dove flew down beside us. I reached into my pocket and held out the fruit.

         “Would you like to share my pomegranate?” I asked.

         Schyla took it from my hand. Her eyes flooded with tears and she hugged me. We wept for Ian. We wept for our brothers. We wept for ourselves. And in her chest, beating slowly, I felt a heart of flesh.

 

Copyright 2008, Michael Bonett Jr.

Cover: "Voyager"

The Voyager Maiden edges toward the waterline as she awaits the setting of her planet's twin.

Copyright 2008, Victoria Zamudio

Victoria Zamudio is a student artist.  This is her first work to appear as a cover for Double-Edged Publishing.