Hold Me Never (Holding Never) (12 page)

Why do they even bother I wonder? Why don't they just
shove us into the Great Hall completely naked?

As the elevator shoots up, I glance around quickly.
Some of the girls are dressed in red, while others are dressed in
blue like me. What's the difference? Different flavor perhaps?
Maybe these costumes are edible.

Oh, yuck!

I shudder with disgust, just as the lift door opens to
reveal waiting guards.

Two guards lead us down a dim, unfamiliar corridor.
When we reach the far wall, one of the guards speak into the silver
band around his wrist and after a few seconds, the wall slides open.

We step out into the golden light of the Palace, and
once all the girls have emerged, the doorway closes and becomes just
a wall once more.

I look back over my shoulder as more guards appear to
escort us to the Great Hall. There is no painting of the Emperor or
the Empress on this wall. This is just a plain white wall. I blink
up at the spotlights and the tall, narrow windows and realize that we
are in another part of the Palace.

As we are marched down the long, winding hallway, I see
that red velvet curtains have been drawn over most of the windows.
Through the corner of one window, I see the pitch black night
outside. There are no stars, no lights, no life or movement that I
can make out. No one to hear cries and screams and gunshots.

I glance over my shoulder at the row of girls walking
behind me, and meet Hani's dark eyes. Her eyes flash and she gives
me a quick shake of her head. Pointedly, she direct her eyes down.

Keep your eyes down
.

I gulp and force myself to stare at my feet as they
trudge forward.

Would keeping my eyes down keep me alive?

I keep shuffling along the red carpet, turning corners
and climbing steps until finally I am standing in front of a
towering, golden door. This is the door to the Great Hall.

I can see bright light seeping out from under that door,
and shadows flitting across. There are voices, loud, raucous and
drunken. The smell of food, of roasted meats and alcoholic
beverages, of decadent desserts and intoxicating wines, wafts from
behind that door.

There is a sudden hush. In that strained silence,
everything seems to stand still. Only that cursed, golden door seems
to be looming closer and larger with every hammering heartbeat.

The silence is shattered by thunderous stomping and
clapping. The door flies open to obscene whistles and applause. I
hear the Emperor's voice announcing our arrival as we are marched
into the Great Hall.

At the front of the Great Hall is a long banquet table,
tottering with all kinds of food and drink. The Emperor and Empress
are seated in the middle of the long table. As my eyes sweep along
the table, I count three people on either side of them. There is
only one woman among the six guests. Her dark hair is cut very
short, and she is wearing a military uniform, adorned with sashes and
medals. The other five men are also in military garb, which are
similarly decorated with badges and medals in all shapes and sizes.

The spacious area in front of the banquet table has been
roped off to form a ring. A very large, sprawling ring.

We are shepherded into the ring, with spotlights trained
on us, which is beginning to look and feel too much like a circus
ring. We are made to stand in a straight line facing the long table
so that we can see every one seated at the table—and the
Emperor, the Empress and all their guests can see every single one of
us. Not one of us can hide from their sneering, leering eyes. Hani
is at the end of the line, determinedly staring at the red marble
tiles.

I am about to flick my eyes to the Emperor when the
silver doors at the side of the Great Hall fly open.

Young men begin to file into the ring. Like us, the
guys are nearly naked. They are wearing nothing but white loin
cloths and metal collars. Some of them glance in our direction, and
there is abject terror in some of their eyes.

The guys cluster in two groups on opposite sides of the
ring, and I scan their faces, reading their hopelessness and hunger.
One of the men tilts his head to meet my eyes, and I gasp.

Owen stares straight at me, his eyes slowly moving down
my naked body under that transparent, gossamer dress.

I drop my gaze quickly but I can still feel his eyes on
me.

The silver side doors and the golden door behind me
whisper shut. A hush falls across the Great Hall, and I have to stop
trying to inch my way backwards. The girls are deadly still, their
eyes lowered. I suspect no one is even breathing.

The reflection in the polished marble floor allows me to
see the movements in the Great Hall without looking up.

I see the Emperor rise from his seat and raise his
glass. Swirling that dark red liquid around the crystal glass, he
addresses his guests. “And now, I present to you the highlight
of our Midnight Feast. These Sirens and Slaves have been specially
picked for your entertainment and enjoyment. This is to reward you,
all of you, my esteemed and most trusted Generals, for your
commendable achievements. Under your command, our armies have
conquered many, many territories, and will conquer many, many more.”
He gestures down the long table at his smirking guests. “With
you at the helm, resistance is futile.” The Generals all laugh
and nod as the Emperor raises his glass to his lips and drains it.
“I have to admit though...” He sways slightly as he puts
down the empty glass. “The resistance is getting a tad
annoying. I hear there's been some uprisings in the outlying
territories. They should be crushed, brutally and bloodily. Once
and for all.”

The Generals grunt and mutter, making their assent
heard.

“
There is bloody work to be done, in the day. But
for tonight, we play!” the Emperor roars.

There is much clinking of glasses and stomping of boots
as the Generals raise their voices and glasses to the Emperor. The
Empress doesn't join in. She sits through the whole charade
unmoving, with just a hint of a smile on her lips.

When everyone has downed their wine and settled down,
the Empress leans forward. “Hmph.”

With that one utterance from the Empress, all chatter
ceases. Everyone seems to stiffen to attention, even the Emperor.
Pretending not to notice the tensed silence that has descended, the
Empress rests her chin in her palm and smiles indulgently. “Shall
we begin?”

All eyes are on the Empress.

Curiosity gets the better of me, and I lift my head a
little to sneak a peek at her. Seeing her seated beside the Emperor,
I am struck by the contrast between them. While the Emperor has
light orange hair with narrow features, the Empress's hair and eyes
are dark as night. Her lips are painted a deep, midnight blue. Even
though she remains seated, she seems to loom over the Emperor,
overwhelming and overshadowing him. Her thick, black hair is
intricately fashioned into a series of twisting knots and buns on her
head. Jewels hang ponderously from her ears and neck, like ripe
fruit from a tree. Her heavy necklace drops into her deep cleavage
hiding the jewel at the tip of that thick band of gold.

The Emperor turns to her with a deep, fawning bow.
“Would you like to choose, my dear...” The term of
endearment sounds forced, not warm and affectionate.

She fingers the swell of her bosom with a painted nail.
“Let General Day and General Link choose, since they have so
successfully and thoroughly crushed our enemies in our latest
invasion,” she declares, waving her hand in their direction.
Her nails are curved like talons, and are painted green and orange to
match her hooded eyelids.

“
Thank you, Your Majesty.” The two Generals
rise and bow low to the Empress, before pushing back from the banquet
table.

They walk round to the front of the long banquet table
and step into the ring. Slowly, the two Generals walk to and fro in
front of the two clusters of collared Slaves. The young men don't
look up.

The only sound that can be heard in the entire Great
Hall is the Emperor's noisy munching.

“
You!”

Despite General Link's shout, no one steps forward. The
Emperor stops chomping on a chicken leg to sputter with his mouth
full, “General Link is speaking to you! Step forward, Slave,
or die!”

I snap my eyes up to see a stocky young man with
striking red hair glance despairingly over his shoulder before
staggering forward. General Link strokes his mustache and looks down
his hooked nose at the flame haired youth. “What is your
name?” he demands.

“
B-Bain.”

General Link pats Bain resoundingly on the cheek. “You
will fight tonight, Bain. Fight. Well.”

“
Y-yes, s-sir.”

General Link pats Bain on the shoulder before returning
to his seat at the banquet table. The General's touch seems to
unnerve and repulse Bain, who is reeling backwards with a grimace.

A strange, twittering sound emanates from the Empress,
and it takes me a while before I realize that she is laughing.

She looks even uglier when she laughs.

“
Oh General Day,” she calls out in a
singsong voice. “Have you made your choice? What is causing
your delay I wonder? Are none of the Slaves good enough for you?”

General Day jerks visibly at the Empress's veiled
rebuke. The other Generals do a poor job of hiding their sniggers.
Throwing his shoulders back, General Day marches right up to the
cluster of young men and grabs one of the men by the collar.

He drags the unfortunate Slave out to the middle of the
ring and shoves him forward. “This one.”

“
Oh. Excellent choice, General Day. Mmm, this
one looks...like he can perform. He should have excellent control
and stamina,” the Empress smiles, her eyes raking down the
lean, tanned body before her.

I stare at the back of that white-haired head and the
tanned, broad shoulders. The scars down his back ripple as his
muscles tense under the Empress's ravenous gaze. She sighs and licks
her lips as she devours every inch of him with her dark, hooded eyes.

“
Beautiful,” she drawls. “I can't
wait. What is your name, Slave?”

“
Owen,” he answers in a low voice.

“
Well, Owen, let's see what you can do.”
The Empress arches one thin eyebrow at him.

Unlike Bain who is gulping audibly and showing too much
white in his eyes, Owen displays no emotion as he stands in the
center of the ring. He stares unflinchingly back at the Empress.
“What would you like me to do, Your Majesty?” The
challenge in his words is thinly masked by his deadpan tone.

The Empress leans forward on her elbows, revealing more
of her pale, heaving bosom.

“
I want you to satisfy me,” she hisses.

The Generals all seem to avert their eyes as a large
bone clatters noisily to the Emperor's plate.

“
My dearest,” the Emperor begins in a
strained voice, the corners of his eyes and mouth twitching
violently. “This Slave is General Day's choice. It should be
his...”

“
I know.” She dismisses his words with a
wave. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let the show begin,
my—love.”

The Emperor takes a deep breath as if to compose
himself. Forcing a smile, he turns to his guests and announces,
“Right. The show. The show that my—love, is waiting
for. Well, now that our two beloved Generals have chosen their
Slaves, we can all sit back and enjoy the performance. But first,
there is the issue of...weapons. What do you say, Generals? Shall
we present the Slaves with some...weapons?” he asks, inclining
his head quizzically at his guests.

“
Why not?” someone calls out.

“
The more the merrier!”

“
I suggest a butter knife,” a bearded
General bellows.

“
A wine glass,” the female General counters.

“
A fork!” from General Link.

“
Why not a spoon,” jeers General Day.

“
Nothing.”

Everyone turns to the Empress.

“
They fight with nothing,” she repeats
calmly.

The Emperor narrows his eyes. “N-nothing?”

“
You heard me.”

“
Whatever you say, my dear. Whatever...you...say.
Nothing it is, then.” The Emperor glares at the two Slaves in
the middle of the ring. “You will fight each other with
nothing but your bare hands. Fight—well, Slaves. If your
performance is not satisfactory, my Generals will take turns putting
bullets into every part of your body. And no, no, they will not be
aimed at your head or your heart. That will be too easy, don't you
think? That would be no fun at all. And fun is what we are here
for. Isn't that right?”

At this, there is scattered applause and a few crass,
cruel jokes.

The Emperor chortles and continues, “Their bullets
will be everywhere—but...your head and heart. Am I making
myself clear?”