Chapter 10
Kitchen Duty was one of Splinter’s least favorite chores in Bloodfield, but at least her chances of being beaten, or worse, was minimized by the lack of space and the huge rack of dishes that would only pile higher if slaves were dragged away for a fresh set of black eyes. Splinter scrubbed the dried crust of slop off of an old, wooden plate and pondered the events of the night before. She had an easy time sleeping when she got back to Containment, but her dreams were full of the whispers of Commander Steel and whomever he was with. Splinter had to slip past only two guards to get back to her mattress, it was easy enough to do. It seemed most of the guards had been called off somewhere or were possibly all gathered around some poor slave, performing unspeakable acts. Splinter shuddered at the thought.
There was a muffled, pink, sound as she set the mostly filth-free plate down on a stack to the left of the sink before her, for the next poor soul to pick up and begin drying. The water in the sink was brown and murky with chunks of floating food, and dirt that had already been there when Splinter arrived. A guard patrolled through the kitchen, watching ponies work. His eyes moved across the lines of working slaves with a sort of smugness, as if this was how things were always supposed to be. His mane was a sandy blonde color, and a coat of fur to match. He had stubble all along his chin, the kind of stuff that could wipe away any amount of crusty, dried slop with ease. Splinter found herself looking at the guard while he was preoccupied with gazing at the flanks of a red Earth Pony who was hard at work stacking the dirty plates in their respective piles to be passed down to one of the four sinks. The Earth Pony’s hooves were covered in various colors of disgusting paste. Splinter held back a scoff at the guard, and went about her business washing dishes before the guard’s gaze inevitably fell onto her. She prayed to Long Gone Celestia that he watched her work only briefly, and didn’t let his eyes linger.
When Splinter hung her apron back on the hook where she had got it and exited the kitchen to make her way to containment, she spotted the sandy blond guard who had been in the kitchen with her. He was speaking to the red Earth Pony. The guard had a smile on his face, the kind of smile Splinter would expect to see on someone who slipped a pill into your drink at the bar. The Earth pony had her eyes fixed on the ground, a very passive expression on her face, as if she had heard whatever the guard was saying, a million times. The guard stopped speaking for a moment, expecting a response. The Earth Pony’s mouth moved as she spoke. Splinter was too far away to hear, but whatever the Earth Pony had said did not please the guard. He swung his hoof through the air and knocked the Earth pony to the ground with a slap to the face. He moved to her and delivered a kick to her stomach.
Splinter flinched, moving forward slightly, to help, to distract the guard, anything. But a pain in the back of her head as another guard struck her with the blunt end of his spear, told her it was no use.
“Try it.” The guard snarled with humid breath into Splinter’s ear. “I’m begging you.”
Splinter regained her footing and walked away as the Earth Pony was then surrounded by two other guards, and dragged behind the kitchen building to be beaten, maybe killed, possibly something worse.
Splinter, keeping as straight a face as she could, was lead to Containment where she, and the rest of the slaves who had been at work in the kitchen, were told that Kitchen duty apparently counted as an “Extracurricular” in the eyes of the guards of Bloodfield, so soon enough, Splinter found herself angrily tilling soil in the gardens, her molars biting deep into the wood of the tool in her mouth, dirt matting itself into her fur. Shield wasn’t too far away, planting seeds in the lines of soil left by Splinter. She hadn’t told him about what she had seen the night before, not yet, there were too many guards around to speak in secret. She would have to tell him when they got back.
Splinter, try as she might, could not remember a single moment in her life when she was more full of anger. The sheer anguish and rage which tore its way through her body made her shake whenever any Bloodfield guard entered her peripherie. Had it not been for the presence of Shield, very much living up to his name, Splinter would’ve fought with tooth and hoof to protect any of the slaves imported with her. It didn’t matter if she knew them, it didn’t even matter if they came from the same city. They were all in the same boat, and they needed to stick together in any way they could.
Shield would call her an idiot. Hell, maybe she was, but she hated having to stand by and watch the cruel things the Bloodfield Guard did on a regular basis. For the first time in her life, she felt hate.
Splinter jumped when she felt a hoof on her shoulder. She looked up to see Shield’s masked face, his eyes inquisitive. Splinter sighed.
“I hate this.” She said, voicing her thoughts and hoping to feel some weight lifted from her as she spoke. She felt nothing.
Shield’s bandanna rose slightly, giving the impression of a smirk hiding beneath, and he rolled his eyes as if to say “Don’t we all.”
Splinter chuckled. It was the first time in a long while since she laughed. She had lost track of how many days it had been since she arrived. She had no doubt Shield had kept careful count.
“Loverboy!” A crude voice shouted from across the tilled soil and over the fence. A guard with a patchy brown mane and what could only be described as a ‘nest’ of teeth. a sharpened spear leaning against his side as he watched Splinter and Shield converse. “Control your urges, or I just might forget to control mine.” He smirked with raw malice in his eyes as Shield pulled his hoof off of Splinter’s shoulder, grabbed the wooden hoe with his T.I.C and got back to work.
Splinter spared a moment to stare daggers at the guard before going back to her own work as well. This was a mistake, as the guard noticed and began pacing the length of the fence until he found himself near Splinter and Shield. He began to watch them work, but it wasn’t just ‘watching’. No, he was staring. Sparing brief glances to Shield, but keeping his pale brown eyes on Splinter. On the sweat of her brow, on her stronger build, on her hind flanks. He made no attempt to hide his intentions as his gaze moved up and down her figure.
Splinter tried to hide the fact that she was shaking, her molars digging hard into the wood of the garden tool in her mouth. Why had she glared at him like that? Shield would tan her hide if he had noticed her mistake.
“Keep it together Splinter.” She thought to herself, “Just keep to yourself until your shift is over, then it’s back to containment where you’re safe.”
What was she thinking? Nowhere was safe, especially not Containment, where guards patrol day and night with the only solace being the ability to speak freely, beit at a murmur. No, surely the other victims of Bloodfield’s crimes would help her if the guard followed her back and tried anything… Right? Or would fear keep them lying on their stained mattresses? Would their own safety overrule the safety of somepony they might have grown up with, been friends with? Maybe the others didn’t share Splinter’s urges to help. Maybe she was a fool after all.
Throughout the rest of her shift, the guard persisted in his gawking. Making his stare almost obvious. Splinter had never been more uncomfortable in her life. ‘Uncomfortable’ couldn’t even describe it. She was terrified, she felt as though he would attack at any moment. It set a fire in her stomach, and when she finally reached containment, the fire only lessened slightly.
It didn’t seem like the guard had followed her, but he seemed ever present, like he was always watching from behind a building, around a corner, through the crowd. Now, more than ever, Splinter was thankful to have Shield by her side. The two sat side by side on Splinter’s mattress, and when he saw how pale Splinter had become, he tilted his head with concern.
Splinter’s breath caught in her throat. She couldn’t bring herself to speak. What if the guard was nearby? What if he could hear? What would he do? She began to breathe again, in short breaths, her eyes flicking around containment looking for the foul-toothed grin.
Shield, not fully understanding, moved to comfort her nonetheless. He reached out a hoof, but Splinter jumped and recoiled, clearly not wanting to be touched. Shield blinked, confused. He didn’t lower his hoof, but instead moved it aside, waiting for her to come to him.
Splinter swallowed and moved forward. Hugging Shield was a strange experience. He wasn’t the best hugger, one hoof seemed to press to hard against her shoulders, while the other was barely touching her. It was a little like being hugged by a baby, they just kind of do what they feel is right. He probably hadn’t hugged too many people. This gave Splinter a small amount of solace and she returned the awkward hug, her breath returning to normal. The time they had spent undergoing the same punishments and work had brought them closer. Though Shield was as reserved as ever, and unable to speak, he was a little more comfortable with Splinter.
“What’s going on?” Said Barter, approaching the mattress with a concerned look on his face. He walked with a slight limp, protecting his right hoof.
Splinter pulled away from the hug and shook her head, “Nothing.” Something about Shield’s silence gave Splinter a feeling of confidentiality, ike she was writing in a journal. She wasn’t quite ready to talk to Barter about something like this.
“You sure? You seem a little on edge.”
Splinter rolled her eyes and gave the most convincing smirk she could. “Forgive me, being in a slave camp can’t be a dream for all of us.”
Barter gave a weak willed smile, “Glad to see your sense of humor is still intact.” He moved to the mattress and sat down beside Shield, Splinter shifted away slightly, giving him room. “So what’s been happening with you guys?”
Shield gave a quick glance to Splinter who looked blankly downward, examining one of the many stains on the mattress. After a pause, Shield shrugged.
“Pretty much the same for me.” Barter admitted, pressing the mattress with his hoof. “Time seems to slow down when I’m not around you guys. Everypony else is either too scared to speak while they’re working or have already been taken away.”
There was a beat of silence.
“Well,” Barter continued before lowering his voice, “have either of you been thinking of how to get out of here?”
Shield looked down at the mattress in thought before nodding.
“Any ideas?” Barter said excitedly, shuffling forward slightly, making Splinter recoil.
Shield paused again, then shook his head. Barter and Splinter deflated slightly.
“Why? What’s the problem?”
Shield looked at Barter and tapped his bandana. Barter tilted his head in confusion and looked questioningly at Splinter.
“What does he mean?”
Splinter smiled weakly, “You should probably stick to yes or no questions.”
Barter thought for a moment before realizing. “Oh… Right, sorry.”
Shield simply shook his head.
“Well,” Barter leaned back again, “we need to think of something and soon, before we end up getting dragged away sooner or later.”
Splinter jumped slightly. She had completely forgotten. The meeting! She had overheard people speaking, a rebellion perhaps.
“Maybe we don’t need to think of something.” She muttered, a small smile on her face. The first sincere smile in what felt like weeks. Shield and Barter exchanged confused looks. “I need to tell you something, I-” Splinter went pale. She stared off near the entrance to the Containment Hall. He had just walked in, his jagged teeth still in a self-satisfied smirk.
“Splinter?” Barter nudged her a little bit, but his voice was distant to her. The brown eyed guard gazed around the room until he did a double take, looking to Shield and Splinter. His smile widened and he strolled confidenty over.
“Loverboy,” He said casually, nodding to Shield. “Girly.” He smirked at Splinter. Barter stepped back a little bit, his face going pale.
“So how long have you two been together?” The guard continued, pacing around the mattress. Shield followed him with his gaze, but Splinter remained still. “I asked you a question, Girly.” He stopped pacing, his face straight.
Splinter felt the fire in her stomach again. “We’re not together.” Splinter muttered. The guard raised an eyebrow, and resumed his pace with a smile.
“Forgive me,” he said apologetically, “I understand how lonely mare’s like yourself can get in places like these, I had simply assumed.” There was an off-beat tapping sound as the guard paced. A twisted, rusty hook, screwed into his hoof clinked against the hard floor.
Splinter could barely hear Shield’s breaths. Quiet, a muffled even more by his bandana. How was he so good at remaining calm? They were powerless, in danger, one wrong word and the guard could attack.
“A strapping young colt like this one,” the guard moved like a flash, swiping his hoof upward so the gnarled hook screwed deep within, twisted and yanked on Shield’s mane. Shield’s head jerked backward, but he made no sound, not a single exhale out of place. “Figured he’d be prime meat for a pretty mare like you.”
Shield did nothing, but Splinter winced whenever the guard tugged the poor colt’s mane this direction and that. Shield showed no signs of pain at first, but Splinter began to notice his eyes begin to water as the guard examined Shield’s strong face.
“Bandana’s a bit gimmicky.” He finished, thrusting his hoof and disentangling the hook from Shield’s mane. The guard turned to face Barter, who looked back into the guard’s eyes. “Don’t suppose this one takes your fancy, eh?” The guard said, stepping closer to Barter, but Splinter’s friend stood his ground.
“None of your business.” Barter murmured through gritted teeth.
With a Swoosh! The guard’s hoof swung through the air and connected hard against Barter’s chin, send him reeling off the mattress and onto the hard floor. “Let the lady speak for herself!” He shouted, standing over Barter now.
“No!” Splinter shouted, moving from her paralyzed state. The whole of Containment was watching now, either that or listening with dismay as they avoided the guard’s gaze. The guard turned to Splinter.
“No, what?”
“No, I’m not with him either.” She answered.
The guard smiled and turned back to barter, patting him on the chest. “Sorry son, you’ll find somepony else.”
Barter replied with a strong glare, his hoof cradling his chin. The guard did not like that. He didn’t want silence, he wanted compliance, he wanted weakness. He raised his hoof again, preparing to strike, the rusted and sharp hook aimed for somewhere important.
“STOP!” Splinter shouted, moving to grab the guard’s hoof, but he spun and struck Splinter in the temple. She felt skin split and she toppled back onto the mattress, blood running down the side of her face. The guard rushed in close, practically on top of her, she felt the weight of his hoof as he placed it against her chest, pinning her to the mattress.
“I suggest you be silent!” His shout echoed through the Containment Hall. Then he leaned in close, “Before I take you out back with me. It won’t take long, I promise.”
Splinter felt weight shift on the mattress and Shield and Barter prepared to move, to grab the guard, something.
“Brass!” A strong voice called through the chamber. The guard, Brass, rolled his eyes and looked upward, not moving his head or his hoof. Splinter could still smell his breath.
“Yes Commander?” He spoke casually once more only with an undertone of annoyance. Somepony dared to ruin his fun.
“Stand at attention.” The voice commanded. Splinter didn’t dare to twist to see who was speaking, but the voice sounded familiar.
Brass sighed, “Oh Commander, I was just having a bit of fu-”
“Stand at attention!” The voice shouted now, cutting Brass short. The guard went dangerously silent, like a cobra preparing to strike. Brass stepped off of the mattress from over Splinter and raised his gaze to somepony across the Containment Hall. There were hoofsteps, and a figure moved in front of Brass, his brow furrowed with frustration, but not anger. He was composed, threatening, a natural commander.
“What is happening here?” The Commander asked in a voice that was calm, but still stern.
Brass didn’t blink. “I was punishing these slaves for insubordination, Commander.”
“That’s Commander Steel, to you.” Steel snapped.
Brass winced with anger, like it pained him not to strike Steel as he had Barter.
“Do we have witnesses to this ‘insubordination’?” Steel asked, looking around Containment at the petrified ponies on their individual mattresses.
“Witnesses, sir?” Brass blinked, confused.
Steel nodded, “Yes, Brass, witnesses. As it so happens, I don’t believe your claims and would like proof.”
“But sir-”
“COMMANDER!” It was a scream this time, spit flying into Brass’ face. Everyone in Containment jumped at the sound. There was a beat of silence that could fill a stadium.
“But, Commander,” He spat the rank as if it were an insult, “you’ve never needed evidence before.”
“It wouldn’t take much to convince me of your lies, Brass.” Steel spoke calmly again. “Half of Bloodfield could hear your shouting. I dread the day you are mistakenly sent on a scouting mission.”
Brass sighed. “Everypony here saw. This one,” he pointed his hooked hoof at Barter, “spoke back to me with disrespect. And this one,” he pointed the hoof at Splinter, who had a single tear slowly soaking down the fur on the side of her face, mixing with the blood, “tried to attack me.”
Splinter could feel heat from her left, and when she spared a glance she noticed Shield was visibly shaking. Not out of fear, but anger.
“Is this true?” Steel called into the room. Everypony was silent. Nopony even blinked, some didn’t dare to breathe.
“IS IT?!” Brass shouted at the terrified ponies. They all jumped and a few gave begrudging and terrified nods. “See?” Brass exclaimed. “Just like I said.”
“Brass,” Steel shook his head, “I don’t have the resources to interview the slaves when they’re not intimidated by you.”
“What!?” Brass pulled back, “But s-,”
Steel turned and glared at Brass, who rethought his words.
“But, commander, they clearly know what happened. I suggest as punishment we beat the small one,” He pointed to Barter, “And I can take care of Girly myself.”
There was the sound of flesh against hoof, as Brass was sent reeling, stepping back onto Splinter’s mattress making all its inhabitants shuffle away.
“Self-Discipline, Brass.” He said through gritted teeth. “Lest I discipline you, myself.”
Brass looked as though he was ready to kill, but he stood, and bowed his head. “Yes, Sir.” He said forcefully.
“I don’t want to hear any more trouble out of you, or I swear you’ll find yourself in shackles and sleeping on one of these mattresses before you can call me the wrong title one more time, understood?”
Brass nodded.
“Good.” Steel turned and weaved between mattresses to the door to the Containment Room, but he stopped. “Oh, and Brass?”
The guard remained as silent as a carcass.
“We provide toothbrushes to our staff, make use of them.” Steel left Containment.
There was another silence, a silence that seemed to vibrate, one that could make even the most fearsome of beasts look over their shoulder. Brass’ breathing increased in rapidity. His head swung to glare at Barter, Shield, and Splinter, he opened his mouth to say something, anything. But after a frustrated moment he snapped his snarling maw shut, let out a guttural growl, and stormed out of containment.