How to Overcome Childhood (6)
Did I really not know?
She asked herself alone.
She must have known.
Yet the truth was this: the thought of having to go back outside for the children’s sake terrified her so completely—terrified her that the villagers would beat her again if she met them—that she chose to believe the lie.
Even as time passed and money continued to appear in the donation box, even as the children kept insisting there really was a benefactor, her weakened heart came to accept it as fact. But at the root of it all lay her own self, the woman who had sunk into fear and stopped thinking about how to care for them. That was the undeniable truth.
Flora limped forward. Because the events of that day remained so vivid, her steps staggered a little more than usual.
Discovering the lie her frail heart had clung to had been pure chance. Dirt clung to the silver and copper coins resting in the donation box. Rhea had gone out alone on that bitterly cold day and come back brushing soil from her clothes.
Snow lay thick everywhere. There was no reason for dirt to touch anything, and because Flora was ill she had not even cleared the drifts piled in front of the house. Yet the hem of the clothes Rhea treasured and wore every day was stained with earth.
What if…
Flora asked Rhea where she had been playing and pressed the girl when she lied and claimed she had never left. Rhea tried to stay silent, pretended not to know, even said she hated Sister—but Flora knew better than anyone how kind the child truly was. Rhea, who would normally have spoken honestly, seemed so startled that she suddenly burst into tears and shook her head, insisting she did not want to talk.
A sharp intuition rose. She had believed a benefactor existed, yet now a hunch whispered that it was not so. Staring at the dirt on the coins, Flora limped outside, found a place covered in soil rather than snow, and sank down to dig the mound away with her bare hands.
There they were.
The letter she herself had written while believing a true sponsor existed, and silver and copper coins laid out as if they were future donations.
What work could children possibly do to earn money? What if—just what if—they had gone to the slums? The horrifying thought that they might have entrusted themselves to wicked people flashed through her mind.
“I didn’t do anything bad… R-really.”
Rhea could not meet Flora’s eyes as she spoke. Knowing she would be scolded, she unconsciously lifted the hem of her skirt.
Slap— slap— slap—.
Flora struck Rhea’s calves. The girl endured several blows before she finally broke down in tears and poured everything out.
Riel had brought Sister back from the village. Afraid that Ceria, Claudia, and she herself would starve, Riel had stolen. He had been beaten so savagely he thought he might die, so he never returned to the village. He had broken the promise never to go to the slums with Sister, gone back, and stolen money from innocent people. He was sorry—please, please do not scold Riel. Even now he had left for distant work—
“…There is no benefactor. Riel earned all of it….”
From the very beginning, there had never been a sponsor.
“…Haah—”
Flora staggered and fell. The moment she recalled what had happened with Rhea, her chest ached.
“…Because I was a coward, the children…. Because I was bad. Because I was so useless….”
In truth she had known long ago that she could move again, that her body was already well enough to go out seeking donations. She limped, yes, but that was no reason she could not leave the house.
Yet Flora trembled with fear whenever she thought of the villagers. They had called her witch and heretic, but they had never raised a hand against her—until the Orthodox Church certified that her mother was a witch. After that she still saw the fist of the kind uncle who used to give alms, still remembered the stones the women threw that struck her head and left blood streaming down her face.
“…It’s because of me. Because of me, Riel….”
Even after her body healed, even knowing the story was a lie, Flora had chosen to believe. She spent her days with the children while thinking of a benefactor who must surely exist. Because of that, Rhea and Riel—who had once fled the slums—returned to them and were forced once more to do the wicked things they hated so much.
The children had shared their warmth with her, fed her what little food they had. Far away, Riel was doing hard labor so he would never have to set foot in the slums again. And she, like a fool, like no adult at all, had simply whiled away the time with the children and abandoned them.
“…No. Don’t cry. You mustn’t, Flora. If you cry, what will become of our babies?”
Snow fell upon her as she trembled, yet she forced herself to her feet once more. Fear had made her forget, but she remembered now: she was the only adult these children had. She took the warm hearts hidden inside the bad deeds Riel and Rhea had committed and made them her nourishment.
Even if the children could never eat their fill, she had to care for them until they were grown. Casting fear aside, Flora set out for the village. As a sister she had always hoped for alms and offered prayers, but she knew now that such things were meaningless, so she removed her robe. On streets thickly blanketed with snow she seized every passerby and spoke.
“…I want work. I don’t want the children to fall ill anymore. Please—help me….”
Her sobs were so loud that even those who knew she was the witch’s child, a heretic, did not strike her as they once had.
“…Please, I’ll do anything. Please—I may be guilty, but….”
Flora bit her lip and told every person who passed the reason she had been branded a heretic.
“My mother may be a sinner….”
She spoke of the mother she had always been so proud of, admitting she might be a heretic.
“…but the children have done nothing wrong. They need love. Please—”
She begged with everything laid bare. A few people, seeing how sincerely she wept for the children, were moved enough to tear up themselves—but that was all.
Heretic.
Apostate.
Witch.
Because Flora’s mother had betrayed the Orthodox Church, Flora herself had become a heretic. The Church used its inquisitors to cast out anyone who associated with heretics. More thoroughly than king, sword, law, knight or noble, the Orthodox Church was woven into every corner of daily life. No one dared help her for fear of falling from the Church’s favor.
“Sorry.”
“Get lost.”
“…That’s why you shouldn’t have called the Orthodox Church into the village.”
Everyone turned away. Only a handful of women who knew her tragic story yet remained fixated on the label “heretic” stayed behind.
“…If you can really do anything, why don’t you try the slums?”
The women snickered, but Flora no longer had room to think. She had been to the slums once. Knowing the way, she limped toward them.
She was frightened—that was true. Yet what frightened her more was the possibility that, in trying to clear her mother’s name, she had merely used the children. The image of those orphans who had been beaten for her sake—she who might truly be a heretic—who had worked and still lied and wept, wavered before her eyes, and that pain was sharper still.
Limp—.
Money to survive the winter.
Limp—.
Everything she had eaten was money steeped in Riel’s and Rhea’s pain.
Limp—.
The guilt and hearts of children who should have been allowed to look upon the world with pure eyes.
Limp—.
With every step, tears fell—drop, drop. She would refuse no work. For the children. For the children she herself had taken in.
Limp—.
Standing before the alley that led into the slums, Flora walked on without the slightest hesitation. She nearly fell several times over women and men collapsed from drugs, yet she never stopped. How many times she walked, how long she staggered—she could not say. Passing an alley a healthy person would have crossed in moments took her a great deal of time.
She might have despaired, but Flora held the children’s smiles in her true heart. When all was said and done she knew she was no different from a mother to them, and so the hardship did not break her.
“…Haah— haah—”
As she gasped for breath, men of the slums appeared, swords in hand. The moment Flora came into view they all turned to stare as if by prior agreement. Some eyes burned with fire; others watched her with a strange sadness.
“…A sister?”
A heavily muscled man approached.
“Are you with the Orthodox Church? Answer when you’re asked.”
What does a lie matter, if it can help Riel and Rhea, Ceria and Claudia? Flora knew where the slums were, but nothing of their ways. If she claimed to belong to the Orthodox Church they would surely help her. She hesitated only a moment before nodding.
“…I want work. I-I want to earn money. Please—give me a chance to work.”
She looked up at the muscular man and pleaded.
“…Why is an Orthodox Church sister looking for jobs in the slums?”
The man smiled faintly as he asked, then stopped. He seized Flora’s hand hard and turned her face this way and that with his other hand.
“Oh, pretty.”
“Kya— kyaaaah—!”
At his threatening manner Flora screamed; the man threw back his head and laughed.
“You said you wanted to earn money. I’m about to let you earn some—that reaction isn’t right, is it?”
Then he shouted to the others.
“This bitch is coming with us. Everyone understand— a noble’s here. You know the one: that ruined cripple who watches our backs.”
“…Wh-where are we going?”
“To earn money.”
“I-I want to work. A-anything— I’ll do it, so p-proper work….”
“Yeah, I know. You’ll do proper work. You’re pretty, after all.”
The man dragged Flora deeper into the more secluded heart of the slums. She struggled, but she could not move him. She sensed she was about to be used for something criminal.
The farther they went, the more women she saw. Some left their breasts completely bare; others wore no underclothes at all. Rough male groans rose, mixed with the coquettish, nasal moans of women. The wet slap of flesh against flesh—thwack, thwack—filled the air.
“Here. Money.”
Looking at the Orthodox Church sister as though she were already a whore, the man seized her habit, slit it open with a dagger, forced her breasts free, and thrust a single gold coin between them.
“Lucky for you you’re a fucking Orthodox bitch. This noble—ha, fuck—beats our women half to death, so he’s been a real headache.”
“…What? Wh-what did you say?”
“Like that Orthodox bastard who came before, you won’t die. Kill you and the Church’s holy knights will fucking storm the slums again.”
He stopped before a room with a red door.
“Count Loren—brought you a woman. Probably a virgin, and pretty the way you like. Have your fun, and don’t show your face until next month.”
He shoved Flora inside.
Thud—!
The door slammed shut.
“Oh. A sister, are you?”
The noble called Loren looked at Flora and casually removed his coat. He wore nothing underneath.
Thud— thud— thud— thud—!
“N-no— I don’t want—! O-open the door, p-please— I don’t— I don’t waaant—!”
Flora pounded the door again and again, but of course it did not open. Loren caught her wrists and tore away the rest of the habit. He shoved her onto the bed, pinned both hands so she could not move, and climbed on top of her. Saliva thick with Count Loren’s lust stretched and dripped onto Flora’s pure white skin. It touched every place she had never shown another living soul, every place she had never intended to show.
“Don’t— please don’t— please, please, pleeease—!”
“It’ll feel good. Heh. For a sister it might even be ecstasy.”
Loren did not stop.
“I have children—please—. The children will starve—p-please—. J-just let me go, please—!”
“Ha— too bad. If the children were here it would have been even better—”
Riiip—!
The last scraps of cloth covering her body tore away.
“No— nooooo—!”
Her bare body exposed to a stranger, Flora resisted with all her strength and managed to strike Count Loren.
“…Ha— this fucking bitch.”
Count Loren raised his fist—
Thwack—!
“Ah— augh—!”
He smashed her across the face.
“You fucking whore, am I killing you?! Act like the slut you are!”
He slapped her cheeks, violated her body, took his pleasure; every time she struggled he pinched and tore her flesh, then stomped and beat her again.
“Heh. She really is a sister. First-timers are rare—”
Flora fainted from the pain and could no longer move. Unable even to resist, she spent hours inside the red room. When the door finally opened again on a chamber thick with the humidity of sweat and the man’s reek, her body was already defiled. Whitish fluids mixed with blood clung stickily to her pure white skin.
“…Ha, this fucking bastard. I told him to go easy. Now she’s unusable.”
The man looked at Flora’s condition, decided she was beyond further use, and ordered his people to dump her outside the slums. To prove she had come of her own free will—and to keep the Orthodox Church from finding any excuse—he pressed two gold coins tightly into her hand.
Naked, abandoned in a forest no one ever visited, Flora lay wrapped only in rags.
Snow fell upon her.
It piled softly, softly.
…Rhea, Riel, Claudia, Ceria—
Flora stirred, recalled her own state, and gave a faint, bitter smile. She decided this was the price for trying to clear her mother’s name, for sending the children into the slums, for taking them in as she pleased. It hurt so much, it was so sad, she felt she might die—
…What do I do with this gold?
She fumbled the two coins in her hand, thinking that with even this much she might survive the winter.
Swoosh— swoosh—.
Without once considering what she looked like, Flora began to crawl across the ground.