BLOOD IN THE MUD

BLOOD IN THE MUD

(1935) PRASIT SUWANWEJ'S POV (Age 19):

I pulled Saengdao’s slatted door shut. I just wanted the empty hallway. My face was still burning. Her laugh was still ringing in my head. Do you really like my brother?

I turned around and froze. "Khu—Kh—" I choked on the word. I cut myself off violently.

Thanawin had just stepped out of his room next door. He was standing right there in the dim lantern light. I yanked my head down into a stiff bow. I stared at the floorboards. I couldn't say his name. I didn't even know how to look at him. Not after almost dropping his gift. Not with my heart hammering this hard.

"Is my sister asleep already?" He barely spoke above a whisper, but it echoed off the wood. A floorboard creaked. He stepped toward me.

"N-no... Thawin," I said. Saying his actual name felt completely wrong. "Khun Saengdao is still awake. She is just resting." He stayed quiet. The seconds ticked by. I stared at the tips of his leather boots. I knew he was looking right at me. The hair on my arms stood up.

"Are you alright, Prasit?" he asked. There was real concern in his tone. My throat closed up. "Your face is completely red. Is the heat bothering you?"

"I am... I am fine, Thawin," I blurted. I gripped the fabric of my trousers so hard my knuckles popped. I had to force my voice steady. "Just tired from the day. I still have to put out the lower hall lamps. And prepare the morning herbs. You should go to sleep, Thawin. Please. It is late."

I took a subtle step backward. My muscles were coiled so tight they ached. I needed an escape route. Right now. Before my burning face gave me away entirely.

Thanawin didn't move. He just stood there. I could smell the rain and sandalwood on his clothes. It was suffocating. He was checking my posture, looking for a lie. I held my breath. I was terrified he might reach out and force my chin up again.

He let out a slow breath. "Very well," he said. "Do not push yourself too hard tonight." I bowed immediately. A joint popped in my back. I took a few quick steps backward and turned away. I ran straight for the courtyard stairs. My bare feet slapped against the wooden floorboards the whole way down.

I hit the bottom of the courtyard stairs. My chest was heaving. I shoved myself into the shadows of the rear service wing and pressed my back against the damp stone. I just needed a second to breathe. To let the cold air cool my face.

A sudden noise broke through the bugs. It was a wet, choking sound. Someone was trying not to scream. They were just sobbing out there in the trees.

Thanawin vanished from my head. I turned around. Another grunt came through the brush. It was quieter this time. It wasn't inside the courtyard. It was out in the trees, right past the boundary line.

I forgot about caution. I dropped low and moved fast. My bare feet sank into the cold mud as I shoved palm fronds out of the way. I was terrified of what kind of broken body I was about to find in the pitch-black brush.

Moonlight cut through the leaves. I finally saw him.

It was a boy. He didn't look older than fourteen. He leaned against a thick tree trunk, shaking. Both of his hands were clamped over his right leg. Dark blood leaked right through his fingers. It dripped onto the wet leaves. He couldn't stand up. But he was still trying to crawl. He dug his knuckles into the dirt.

"Please..." he whimpered to the empty trees. His voice cracked. "Please, no... I can't..."

I didn't think. I just moved. I broke the boundary rules. I lunged forward to drag him behind a massive banyan root before a patrol saw him.

I didn't even get to touch him.

A hand clamped over my mouth from behind. It choked my gasp. Someone yanked me backward into the heavy brush. I panicked and started to thrash. Then a familiar voice whispered right against my ear.

"Don't make a sound."

I froze. I nodded against the hand. A second later, heavy boots snapped dry branches a few yards away. Two men stepped right into the clearing.

Iron lanterns flickered through the leaves. I recognized the faces of the clan’s guards immediately. They were weak shamans, only useful for guarding the holding cells down below.

"There! Grab him!" one of them yelled. He pointed a heavy wooden cudgel at the brush. I twisted against the arm holding me back. I dug my heels into the mud and pulled at the grip. But he was too strong. He kept me pinned.

I watched the boy freeze. His eyes went wide. Tears cut tracks through the mud on his face. He knew he was caught. I had to break free. I needed to get in front of him. But the arm around my shoulders didn't budge.

The kid lost it completely. He wailed. "No! Don't touch me! Please!" he screamed, pushing himself backward. "I didn't do anything!" His fingers clawed deep into the mud. He dragged his chest over a jagged root. The broken leg caught on the ground, leaving a thick smear of blood. He tried to scramble away. The dirt slid out from under him. He stared back up at the men.

He was trapped. He was helpless. And I was just watching. The boy hit the tangled roots of an old teak tree. He was trapped. He couldn't crawl anymore. His breath hitched into a wet wheeze.

The first guard walked right up to him. He didn't even look at the boy's mangled leg. He just reached down and yanked him up by the muddy collar. The kid thrashed. He swung his small fists against the man's chest. He screamed and cried. But he was just a kid. His weak hits just left faint streaks of mud on the guard's shirt. Then his arms dropped. He was completely spent.

The second guard stepped out of the brush. He held an iron lantern up. The yellow light washed over the bleeding boy. The guard’s face was completely blank. He rested a hand on his cudgel.

"Don't bother dragging him back to the cells," he said flatly. "That one is no longer needed." My eyes went wide. My stomach dropped right out of my body. The hand over my mouth pressed down harder. A warning not to scream.

I couldn't even process the words. The first guard reached for his belt. He pulled a long, narrow blade from a dark sheath. The steel caught the dim lantern light. He didn't hesitate. He didn't even blink. He grabbed a fistful of the kid's hair, jerked his head back, and dragged the cold steel right across his throat.

I stopped breathing.

A wet wheeze ripped out of the boy's mouth. Then came a sickening, muffled gurgle. Blood flooded his windpipe. His small chest heaved for air that wasn't there. His tiny fingers twitched in the mud. He scrambled uselessly. The blood poured over his collar and soaked right into the dirt.

It only took a few seconds. The frantic thrashing slowed down. He shuddered once, and then went completely still.

The guard casually wiped the bloody blade on the dead kid's shirt. He slid it back into the sheath. The woods went dead quiet. My blood turned to ice.

I stared at the black blood in the mud. I stopped being in the woods. I was right back in my childhood. I watched that exact same cold steel cut my father's neck. I watched my mother bleed out into the dirt. They were killed just like this. Treated like animals in the dark.

My mind broke. I lost my grip completely. My vision went blurry. Tears leaked out and ran down my face. I bit my lip hard. I dug my fingernails straight into my own skin. I clamped my mouth shut. It was useless. A sob ripped right out of my throat.

Just a sharp gasp of air against the fingers covering my mouth. But the woods were completely silent. It sounded just like a snapping branch.

The guard stopped moving. He left his hand on his belt. He swung the iron lantern toward the brush. The yellow light hit the leaves right where we were hiding.

"Who is there?" a voice shouted into the dark.