Dishonor (Book 1 of the In Search of Honor series)
Chapter 1:Slave

"Get up, girl!" Pain erupted in my side as a bootrammed into my bruised ribs, yanking me out of my dream.

I gasped, and curled up, praying the guard wouldn't kick meagain. The dark walls of the windowless stone cell closed in around me.

I know better than to lookup at the guards when they’re angry, but I did anyway. Bald head, linescreasing his forehead, and that really ugly, ginger goatee… it was Kicker.Without even looking down at me, he lifted his foot and swung. Pain lanced through my middle and I doubledover clutching at my abused stomach.

"Come on, you disgusting criminal. Get your lazy bones off the floor.You’ve got work to do." His deep voice sounded like rocks grating againsteach other. “You’re a drag on our city’s limited resources. The king shouldjust kill the lot of you!”

Well, silly guards, if you killed us, then who would clean thestreets and change your chamber pots? Kill us, and you’ll no longer have slavelabor.

I forced myself up off the stone floor, even though every musclein my body screamed in pain. Still clutching my sore stomach, I stood up andstraightened out my tattered burlap sack.

I dashed for my cell door. If I could escape into the prisonyard, I could replace my work unit, and Kicker wouldn’t put out the effort to replaceme amongst the other dishonored.

"You ain't goin' nowhere yet, trash." His hand struck my cheek, and Istopped, too afraid of what he might do. "I told you to get up, not to runout. You know the rules. Your whole family unit has to be ready before we moveinto the yard."

The stones worn smooth from generations of dishonored sleepingon them were the safest thing to look at. Any sign that I could think formyself could - and would - be treated as rebellious.

I kept my head down but looked over at my family. My skeletalmother still sitting on the ground asthe guard walked toward them. Oh please God, help her get up. She’s too thinand beaten already. She scrambled to her feet just in time as my stepfather,Jordan, just stood there. She stared at the ground, her thin frame shaking withfear. Next to them, my five half-siblings were already standing, waiting, theirlittle shoulders hunched.

My older sister, Casia, used to always be by my side. She usedto stand with her head bent down and her short curly brown hair covering thetop of her head. She'd look over, and share a smile with me when the guardsweren’t looking. Her dark green eyes were inquisitive and defiant, not likesome of the Dishonored who would get this far off glassy haze over their eyes.But there was no one next to me now. My heart clenched at the thought of thenights Casia stayed in the guard’s rooms, but at least they didn't beat heranymore.

Kicker looked me up and down, licking his lips in a way that sent shivers downmy spine. I was all too aware that my sister was getting older and wouldn’t beconsidered ‘fresh’ anymore. Soon she would be discarded, and she’d need to bereplaced.

My beautiful and noble sister should have married a nobleman who would haveprotected and supported her. Instead shewas just another gutter rat. Of course, I was also a gutter rat. I could neverlet go of my hatred for the king who had taken my father's life and left myfamily shivering in this place. We hadn’t even done anything wrong; we werestuffed in these cells simply because we were related to a criminal.

“Dishonored scum.” A glob of saliva hit my cheek. I did not movea muscle. This was a test of my obedience. “Get out of this cell and go earn areason to breathe. Should just kill the lot of you.” He laughed as if he hadjust made a joke.

I slowly trudged forward out of the cell, my bare feet shufflingagainst the cold, unyielding stone. Behind me I could hear Kicker closing thecell, and I could feel the glob of spit fall off my cheek.

A hand grabbed my shoulder. “You know girl, as soon as you'reold enough… I’d give you a better night and something better to put in your mouththan soup …”

I waited, not moving, my heart beating like the wings of atrapped fly. Should I reply? Was he trying to get me to speak so he could whipme? Would he whip me if I didn’t speak? I glanced down at my trembling hands,my left hand marked by a large D, a sign of my Dishonor to all Honored citizensof the City.

He laughed and slapped my butt. “Get out of here, girl. Go doyour job. But I’ll be seeing that pretty face in my room mighty soon.”

I’ve heard these comments so often I no longer react. SometimesI wondered if death or exile would be better than being Dishonored. At least ifI was dead I wouldn’t be treated as less that human. Of course, exile wasn’treally an option. That was a fate worth than death; to be forced out of thecity to go die in the radiation beyond the Wall.

I will never forget my father’s execution. He walked to hisdeath as a nobleman, a man of honor, even if he was a traitor. Sometimes Ihated him. Other times I wished he succeeded so no one had to live likeanimals.

He could have just ignored the system like every other nobleman,but then he wouldn’t have been my father.

A heavenly light shone through the door up ahead into the darkhallway. I quickly walked through it, and out onto the cobblestone covered yardwhere other prisoners were pouring out through other doorways, preparing foranother long day of work.

At the far end of the yard I could see the tall smooth gray wallof the prison topped by concertino wire protecting the citizens of the cityfrom the evil Dishonored.

I shuffled into line with the other dishonored who worked at HonorableMr. Konjack’s house during the day. We were the lucky ones. People picked outof the Dishonored to work “easy” jobs. Most dishonored cleaned the streets andsewers. The best part though was that no one else in my family worked at hisplace. I am a selfish Dishonored; not wanting to share my good fortune withthem, but they could care less about me so why should I care about them? Webarely spoke much to each other anyway. And I didn’t want them to know aboutKevin.

A big drop of water landed on my head. I glanced up at the pinksky overhead. When I was still Honored I asked Mother why the sky was pink, anda soft smile touched her heavily powdered face. We don’t really know. Theancients built the dome to protect us from the radiation outside the Wall. Theychose the color, I guess.

Another drop hit my shoulder. A scheduled rain must have justfinished, or they were preparing to turn on the water to give us a shower.Probably the shower. Normally they scheduled rain when no one was awake. Aroundus all the other work groups finished lining up in the prison yard.

“Alright, boys and girls. Time for a change of clothes.” Yup,time for a shower. I sighed and untied the string around my waist that I usedas a belt for the sack-like ‘dress’. I learned long ago that privacy didn’texist when you were Dishonored. The only reason we had clothing was for thecomfort of the people that paid the king for us to do their dirty anddisgusting jobs.

I pulled the simple burlap garment over my head and passed ittoward the end of the line where the guards would collect it. I tensed upwaiting for what I knew was to come, but I still jumped when the cold water hitme. Water came pouring out on us from overhead, and I quickly used my hands toclean myself. One nice thing about being a maid was that I was cleaner thanmost of the Dishonored.

Clean sacks were passed out and I grabbed one and passed thebundle on. I pulled the itchy material over my head and tied the belt backaround my waist. Water dripped from my short hair and down my back, soaking thesimple garment.

“Workers to your stations!” A man’s voice cackled over the oldloudspeaker system that ran through the prison. It was time for the guards toget us to our places of work.

“Liv,” a girl to my right whispered at me. She should knowbetter than to speak out of turn, but she was new. I’d stupidly befriended herand now I was paying the price. Maybe she would get the hint if I stoppedwhispering her warnings and instead just stayed silent. She would learn on herown if she wouldn’t listen to me, under the pain of the lash, the same way therest of us learned.

“Forward March!” our group’s guard called out. He had a largescar running from his left temple to the right side of his jaw that he hid thelower half of with black stubble. I couldn’t help thinking of him as Scar-Face,especially since we were never told the names of any of the guards

We shuffled forward as the units in front of us made their slowlyout the gate. Everyone had to get through the bottleneck of the gate. I couldsee the guards on this side watching us, pistols out and ready to end the lifeof anyone who tried to run.

We walked through the first gate into the empty area between thetwo walls, and traversed through the muddy walkway until we passed the secondgate where more guards stood watch. There was a swath of barren land near thefence before the street became lined with tall brick apartments. Most were atleast six stories tall, and many were abandoned.

Here and there chalky graffiti dotted the red brick. One read“The Spies see all.” Another simply stated “Life is Shit”. Others wereunreadable and were simply splashes of color. A woman stood in front of a door,holding a dirty cloth over her mouth in the sign of disgust. A simple dirtysmock adorned her frame, and her brown hair dangled down in tangled, greasylocks of unwashed hair.

“Hey woman, Get inside. Don’t want to replace yourself marchingwith this lot do you?” One of the guards ahead of called out to her.

She lifted her rag away long enough to spit at the feet of someDishonored ahead of us, and then turned and went into a doorway that wascovered by a piece of cloth.

Scar-Face laughed and muttered only loud enough for the Dishonoredclose to him to hear, “Undesirables, always needing to show they rank above onegroup of people in this city.” He liked to make comments like this sometimes.We would never say anything back, for fear of punishment, but it was an oddbehavior.

I looked again at the brick buildings with their boarded upwindows and cloth covered doorways. This was probably the best location in thecity for a fugitive to hide, with its interwoven buildings and masses of peoplewho hated the king. Of course, the people would have to let go of their lovefor being superior to any fugitive. Most of them would probably turn a fugitivein the second they found them for the wealth and rise in status such an actwould bring them. Everyone in the city would.

Eyes stared out from behind the curtained doorways, watching us,waiting for the marching lines to pass by, and then they in turn would head outto jobs in the farms.

The houses became nicer with market stalls lining the streets,but the markets were silent as we walked through. Many of the people outshopping and the shop keepers turned their heads away. Some children ran up,and one boy threw a rock screaming, “Dishonored Slime!”

I wanted to yell back, to say, “You don’t understand!” But Icouldn’t. I had to stay silent, or I would be punished.

His friends all followed suit, and one hit me in the shin, and Istumble, but kept walking, blinking back tears. I was once one of them.

I could see it, me, running as fast as my little legs could tokeep up with the boys as they ran screaming through the streets. I was justfocused on breathing, on trying to keep up like I swore I would. Up ahead, allthe boys were grabbing rocks, so I grabbed a small pebble and ran to where therest of the boys were standing in the shade of a building.

In the distance I could see the Dishonored line approaching. Ihad no clue what we were doing, and no one seemed inclined to tell me. I leanedover toward one of the boys- What was his name? Daniel? That sounded right- Ileaned over toward him, and whispered, “What are we doing.”

His lips turned upward in a parody of a smile, “You’ll see,girl.”

And then we were running again, toward the Dishonored linetrudging toward us. Up at the front of the pack, Henry, lifted his arm andthrew his rock at the Dishonored. “Dishonored Pigs!” He screamed at them andthen ran backwards.

I could hear my father’s voice in that moment, “Little LivelyElizabeth, you mustn’t ever treat anyone who is less Honored than you badly. Weare Most Honored, and we must keep our place by treating those souls who cannotattain our level of honor with kindness and forgiveness. You should not insultothers of lesser honor like you did today, at the shop. It is their birth thatmakes them lesser. You must be understanding.”

As the other boys threwtheir rocks, I hesitated. I remembered my pact, not to complain, and to keepup. A Most Honored never broke their word. I threw the rock at a woman.“Dishonored viper in our streets,” I screamed out the two worst things I couldthink of to call someone. She flinched as my little pebble hit her leg. And Ifelt a fierce satisfactions and joy.

Daniel smiled at me, and this time the smile seemed genuine,echoing my own feeling of excitement, “Nice shot, Liz.”

What a horrifying little brat I’d been. There was a reason Irefused to ever go by the name Liz again. I watched as the kids ran off to replacesome other entertainment, and I couldn’t help but remember the comradery of thegang. I couldn’t blame the children for their fun. They didn’t really know anybetter, and only copied what others before them did.

The apartments became nicer, and the shops were now inside thebuildings. The streets were cleaner, and city guards walked the streets withtheir shiny breastplates and green trappings. One guard had his helmet off, andwas watching us with a scowl. Stubble grew on his cheeks, and smooth black hairwas hacked off at his ears. He’d been here every day for about a year now,watching us go by with that scowl. But I’d seen him before that.

My firsttime marching down prison road with my golden locks of hair freshly shaved off,and the salt of tears staining my cheeks as I was forced to march in the line,a guard near me to shove me forward or drag me up whenever I stumbled. I lookedout, into the people on the streets that just days ago I’d been a part of. Isaw my old friends running toward us, Henry in the lead with his silky blackhair. I watched as he lifted his stone, about to throw it, and then he stopped,staring at me. I knew it was him. My pack leader.

He staredat me in shock, his arm still, all the other boys waiting for him to throw. Hehurled his stone at me, “Traitor’s bitch! Dishonorable witch! Viper!” Helaunched the words at me. His eyes full of shame and betrayal.

Each wordwas like a punch in the gut. My pack leader declaring me to be the enemy now.

Every dayafter that, he’d be there, waiting to throw the first stone, to throw itdirectly at me. And then, one day he was just standing to the side, next to ashop, quietly glaring at me, the glare hurting more than the rocks. Someoneelse was leading the pack. I guess he’d grown out of the pack.

His eyecaught mine for just a second, and for a moment the scowl smoothed away to asimply emotionless face, before returning as he looked elsewhere. It was solong ago that I’d joined his pack.

I’d run out of the house the second mother finished my braid.She’d yelled something from the doorway, but I’d ignored her, running out tomeet my friends, led by the older Henry Hongew. Thinking back, he probablywasn’t actually that much older, but at the time he’d seemed so much older.

“You again?” His voice taunted my memory, facial featuresblurred by time, “What’s a girl doing here? We let you come that one timebecause Kevin insisted, but shouldn’t you be back doing embroidery orsomething? That’s what my sister does.”

Little seven year old me lifted her head up high, “I don’t haveto be back doing anything. I don’t want anything to do with boring embroidery,dance lessons, or school.”

Henry laughed, “Fine, but don’t complain about anything we do,or fall behind. If you do, you can go complain to your mommy.”

“I won’t,” I proclaimed with all the strength of an HonoredDaughter’s vanity.

“Swear it.” He spat on his hand and held it out, waiting for meto be disgusted and run away.

I stared at his hand for a moment.

“I thought so,” he laughed and started to retract his hand.

I spat into my hand, “I, Liz, swear I will keep up and notcomplain.”

His laugh stopped, and he reached forward, eyes staring intomine, “Well little one, we will see how you do.” His hand clasped mine firmly,and our deal was sealed.

Our group turned off from the main line onto a side street, and Henrydisappeared. Scar-Face walked next to our ten person group letting theDishonored at the front of the line lead. I looked over at Scar-Face, and sawhis hand casually resting on his one shot pistol.

The apartments suddenly disappeared to an open park. It was abeautiful place, with towering trees covered in wide yellow leaves and palegrass. Benches were recessed back from the path. I could see a couple, sittingon the grass nearby sharing breakfast. The air was fresh, and smell sweetcompared to the rest of the stale air of the city. A light breeze from a fanruffled my hair. This was the only open place in the entire city. This beautiful,peaceful place that was the fastest way to Konjack’s house, and we were luckyour group was allowed to walk through here.

The trees gave way to Farm stacks, tall multi-layered, openaired buildings with giant lights on each level and sprinkler systems hangingover crops. I could hear cows mooing for their breakfast a couple stacks over.

The stacks continued on our left, and a stone wall rose up onour right, surrounding the castle grounds in the middle of the city. I couldn’tsee the castle, but I could vaguely remember it. It was surrounded by an areasimilar to the park, and had a cobblestone courtyard. On one side of thecourtyard, there was a stable made of beams and stone, a brown horse nosepeeking out a window. Stepping out of our carriage, and seeing the matchingstone and beam castle on the other side. The building, four stories, maybe fivestories, tall. Little slits for windows. A tower near the door. It was so longago, and the memory stopped there.

The stacks on the left were replaced by a stone wall. This wasthe Hongew residence. Henry’s home. His family was quite wealthy and hiredservants instead of paying the King for the use of cheaper but less reliableDishonored. His family owned many of the stacks next to their residence.

We passed by the gate to his home, and then continued with stonewalls on either side. A man on a horse rode past us, his bay horse well-groomedand content. My pony was a wonderful little gray. I used to braid his main withlittle blue ribbons, and go riding along like this man.

We continued past another residence. I couldn’t remember wholived here anymore. Details weren’t always important to young selfish me.

Finally, the long walk ended an we were outside the Konjackresidence. The gate was wide open, waiting for us to come in.

We walked into the yard and came to a halt. Kevin waited for usthere with a smile on his face. His messy brown hair looked like he’d onlycombed it with his fingers, and his white blouse was only partially buttoned. Myheart stuttered in my chest at the sight of him. We’d been childhood friends,and now…well, now I had the biggest crush on him.

Scar-Face tried to act casual, but I could see he was tense inthe face of nobility. Kevin wasn’t the one who was usually waiting for us.Normally it was one of his hired servants.

“I don’t see why my father pays for these filthy dishonored. Iguess because they are cheaper than actual servants,” Kevin smiled at Scar-Faceas he said this, as if he was sharing a joke.

Scar-Face nodded stiffly. “Your family has always needed cheaperlabor, my Lord.”

I was surprised by how frank Scar-Face was. A statement thatblunt could get a person in deep trouble.

Kevin only laughed, “Too true, too true. Well, I’ll go ahead andtake the three for the house and the rest can go to their jobs.” I could seehis grey eyes looking straight at me for a second before turning back to theguard. “I do wish my father didn’t use any in the house, but it’s his call tomake.”

“Yes, sir. Alright rats, house workers go to Sir Konjack and therest of you are with me. Cleaning up manure is first, as always.” He didn’tnormally tell us where to go unless there was someone new. It was probably forthe benefit of Kevin.

I filed out along with the new girl, Reese, and an older womannamed Rachel, who was born dishonored. She had worked for the Konjacks since she wasold enough to leave her mother’s side . It was terrible that the system keptsuch good people as Rachel Dishonored simply because she was born this way. Shewas more a better person than the petty spoiled Most Honored that owned thecity’s land.

“Liv,” Reese whispered again.

“Reese, just stop trying to talk to me or you’ll get us bothwhipped.” I couldn’t help snapping. I had to warn her. I had to get her to stoptrying to talk to me in front of the guards, for her own safety and mine. Shewas just a murderer’s daughter like me, except she had no family left to lookafter her.

Kevin cleared his throat to get our attention. “Changequickly. My father has a big list of chores for you ladies today.”

He tossed us each a dress up, and we quickly stripped out of ourburlap garment and into a servants garb. If visitors came to the house and wewere seen, it was best for his status if we just looked like Undesirables.

It felt so soft and comfortable against my skin. The feel of itwas simply wonderful. The cotton was so soft and delicately woven that everypart of my skin the dressed touched tingled. In truth it was nothing comparedto the gowns I once wore, but after the sack it was heaven in clothing.

I stopped admiring the feel of the cloth, for each chore on ourlist that wasn’t finished at the end of the day all three of us would receiveone lashing of the whip. We normally finished our chores, but it was still bestto be quick.

“First on the list is ofcourse neatening your master’s chambers. Mistress Lianne will have your nextchores after you finish that. I will see you at the end of the day.” He walkedaway. Today he hadn’t looked back, but some days he would and my heart wouldflutter.

There was one of us for each master of the house. I cleanedKevin's room. Rachel cleaned the Lord Konjack’s room.

The new girl, Reese, cleaned Felise’s room. Felise was theLord’s second son and the cause of his wife’s death. I remembered going to hismother’s funeral back when I was a nobleman’s daughter - before my honor andtitle were stripped away. Felise was only a year old when my father tried tokill the king.

“Hey, Liv…” I sighed as I walked towards the house. The new girlwasn’t going to give up until I responded.

“What, Reese?”

“What happened to the previous girl in my position?”

I gulped. I will neverforget the previous girl, kneeling with her hands bound to a post, the metallicsmell of blood and the flies buzzing around the blood running freely from thelash marks on her back. The sound of a pistol being shot, and a hole appearingin her head, blood flowing out as her head fell to the side.

“I’m not sure you want to know.” It was best not to formattachments. Everyone died in this place. Maybe if she knew, she would stopbothering me and be more respectful about the rules I outlined for her. Weentered the house through the servants' door and turned down the hallway thateventually lead to the rooms.

“She refused to sleep with a guard, and when he tried to forceher, she hit him and tried to run. They caught her.” There. I said it. The bestfriend I had made in this place was dead. I could still see the tears streamingdown her face as they dragged her toward the post. I begged her to plead forexile, but Annie had already made her mind up. I will always remember her lastwords to me: “Better dead than to lose what little honor we have, Liv. I wouldrather die a million painful ways than give up what little honor I hold formyself.”

Poor Annie. She never really had a choice. No one had a choicein this awful place ruled by the strong hand of that dreadful king. That’s whyI would kill him.

The new girl stared at me shocked.

“Yup,” I said. “Becareful and take everything they give you.” I turned into Kevin’s room beforeshe could reply. I was the only person he ever allowed in his room, so I closedthe door quickly to make sure Reese didn’t follow me inside.