Back to Forward by Maritza Ortskt-Dukovna
Chapter One – The Apple Thief
Danka
Siluckt woke up before sunrise, as always. She carefully got out of her
bed to avoid disturbing her younger sister, Katrínckta. She cast her
sibling a resentful look, irritated that Katrínckta got to sleep in most
days, a privilege she couldn’t ever remember having.
Danka stumbled around in the dark, trying to grope for her work outfit.
The first item she located was her peasant’s vest, hanging from a wooden
peg that had been wedged between two logs in the wall. She slipped the
flimsy garment over her shoulders. The vest was not a top that would
have been considered appropriate for a young woman in most European
countries at that time: it was sleeveless and completely open in the
front. It’s only function was to protect the wearer’s back from the sun:
it was not designed for modesty or fashion.
Danka felt around the wall before placing her hand on the second part of
her work outfit, a worn and very dirty brown skirt. She pulled the skirt
up over her hips and tied the drawstring. The skirt, never an attractive
piece of clothing to begin with, most definitely had seen better days.
Threadbare, torn, and tattered, it was little more than a rag. It was in
such poor condition that Danka thought about taking it off again and not
bothering with it. If she were to just stay home and work around her
parents’ homestead, she would not have worried about the skirt. However,
on this day her duties would force her to leave home and work closer to
town, so she figured it needed to stay on. The next item she put on was
her work boots. The boots were the only part of her outfit that had any
value at all: if nothing else, at least Danka’s father saw to it that
all of his children’s feet were properly protected against their harsh
living conditions.
Finally, she retrieved her mother’s hat. Danka would be working outside
all day, so her mother had given her permission to use it. The hat was a
typical peasant’s hat, with a broad brim designed to completely protect
the wearer’s head and neck from the sun. Danka had heard that in other
countries men and women wore different work hats, but in Danubia a
peasant’s hat was a peasant’s hat. The sun in the fields was as harsh on
women as it was on men, so there was no reason a woman’s hat should be
any different from one worn by a man.
Danka cast another resentful glance at Katrínckta, as the younger girl
stretched in her sleep and sighed with the satisfaction of the luxury of
now having the bed to herself. Dishonored little brat…I ought to grab
her hair, drag her out of bed, and make her come to work with me. But
no…Danka didn’t dare do such a thing. She would dutifully go off and
work, while Katrínckta would sleep in and then spend her day at the pond
pretending to feed the family’s ducks, but in reality just soaking her
feet in the water and staring at the flowers falling from the trees or
the birds flying in the sky. Katrínckta was worthless, but if Danka
dared lay a hand on her, their mother would immediately take the younger
girl’s side and brutally punish Danka.
Oh yes…lovely Katrínckta …delicate Katrínckta …sweet Katrínckta …always
Mother’s favorite. Danka quietly picked up her shovel. She resisted the
urge to raise it over her head and slam it against her sister’s sleeping
face. That would be nice…I wonder if she’d be so pretty after a hit to
her teeth with this shovel…if she didn’t have her teeth, then they’d all
think I’m the pretty one…
Danka struggled to open the rough heavy door that led outside. She
decided to leave it open and let the daylight wake her family. It was
just starting to become light, a clear early summer dawn that promised a
hot day. The young peasant then unlatched the door to the chicken coop.
As the fowl squawked and filed down the ramp, Danka walked behind the
dilapidated structure to check on an important secret she was keeping
from her parents.
Buried, in a broken cup, she kept a stash of copper coins. She had saved
15 coins so far…and hopefully by the end of the day she’d add a couple
more to her collection. She knew that what she was doing was risky, but
she needed a decent dress if she could hope to get married. If her
parents ever could afford a dress, Danka knew that Katrínckta would be
the daughter to receive it. Katrínckta would be the one to get married,
while Danka would be expected to just keep working. No, that wasn’t
going to happen. Danka would have her own dress, regardless of her
parents’ wishes, and she would get married first. She grabbed a feed
bucket before leaving for work. The feed bucket would be needed for her
plan to get a couple more copper coins.
Danka emerged onto the muddy path that connected her family’s homestead
to the outside world. She passed the duck pond her parents shared with
another family of peasants; then passed several other dilapidated
cottages. They were all the same: hovels made from stones and logs,
hidden under trees and bushes, and surrounded by flocks of ducks and
chickens. Some had vegetable gardens, but none of the properties was
large enough to support a real farm. These were the dwellings of the
lowest class in Danubian society…the day laborers.
Carrying her shovel and bucket, Danka followed a somewhat better road
that was roughly paved with flat stones, passing larger properties.
There were several orchards and wheat fields, all neatly kept and
surrounded by fences or stone walls. The houses were attractive, and
instead of duck sheds, rabbit hutches, or chicken coops, the farmers had
built real barns.
Danka came up to an apple orchard and jumped the fence. She looked
around for the best apple, which would be her breakfast. She was not
worried about the orchard owner, because Danubian protocol allowed a
poor person to take a single piece of fruit or a vegetable from a rich
person’s property per day. The tradition was ancient, based on the
Church teaching that the poor have the right to sustenance.
Danka hid the apple core under some leaves and took a second apple. Now,
she did have to be concerned about the owner. She looked around before
committing herself to the second piece of fruit, because protocol only
allowed her to take one apple, not two. One apple was sustenance, but
the second one was theft. Well, thought Danka… that’s just too bad. There
will be more theft from this orchard when I come back… a lot more.
When she finished her second apple and had hidden its remains, Danka
resumed her trek to work. She walked along a tree-lined road towards the
provincial town of Rika Heckt-nemat. By Danubian standards the town was
large, boasting a population of nearly 20,000 people. Only the capitol,
Danúbikt Móskt, and the eastern city of Rika Chorna were bigger. The
city was built on a hill, with its medieval walls still standing, a
relic of an age before cannons. On the south side of the town there was
another irrelevant relic of the town’s past: a stone pier and row of
docks that at one time serviced river barges, but now faced nothing but
an open field. For centuries Rika Heckt-nemat had been a major river
port, but four decades ago, when the Rika Chorna river flooded and
changed its course to the north, the city was left landlocked. What had
been a riverbed now was a series of swamps that were gradually being
drained and converted to farmland. Hence the city’s new name: Rika
Heckt-nemat, which translated to “the river doesn’t flow here anymore.”
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Danka approached a group of workers whose task for the day would be to
dismantle part of the now useless pier and move the stones to a site
where the town council had decided to build a well. Most of Danka’s
fellow workers were men. There were only a few women present, and of
them, Danka was the youngest and by far the prettiest. She resented
being expected to do such arduous work. I’m not a man, she thought
bitterly: why should I be treated like one? However, she also knew that
she would not be working as hard as most of the others, because
undoubtedly, as soon as her male co-workers realized that she was still
unmarried, they would vie with each other to give her small favors and
even perform some of her duties. She smiled and flirted with a couple of
the nicer-looking laborers, to encourage them to help make her day
easier. Even though none of the men really interested her, Danka figured
there was no reason she shouldn’t take advantage of her appearance while
she still was pleasant to look at.
Wearing a ridiculous-looking tri-corner hat and an equally absurd felt
coat, a city councilman approached the work site to explain the day’s
tasking. Accompanying him was a servant lugging sacks full of
hard-boiled eggs and small loaves of bread, which put the workers in a
better mood. At least this man had the decency to pass out food before
passing out orders.
As the workers sat and ate, the councilman explained what he wanted. The
town was building a new well, cistern, and aqueduct; a project that
would take advantage of the ample supply of stones and bricks from the
remains of the old pier. The workers would be divided into a group
responsible for tearing apart the pier, another to dig the holes needed
for the cistern and well, and a third group that would move the
materials needed for the new project. The councilman pointed at Danka,
telling her that because she had brought a shovel, she would be part of
the digging crew. A few minutes after finishing her egg and bread, she
joined a group of 30 workers filing out to the planned well site.
Danka knew that no one in her group would be participating in actually
building the new infrastructure. Their task simply was to get everything
set up for the builders’ guild. According to the view of the townsfolk,
the laborers were dishonored and uneducated rabble, good for nothing
except tasks such as moving rocks and digging holes. Their Path in Life
was to sit in their cottages among their chickens and ducks, and wait
until they were needed for a project. Once the project was finished,
they were expected to return to their cottages and stay out of everyone
else’s way.
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Danka spent the morning at the edge of an ever-deepening hole, glumly
moving shovelfuls of dirt into a wheelbarrow. She did not have the
hardest task of the group, but still, it was not a pleasant way to spend
the day. The worst part of her job was knowing that her parents would
not allow her to keep any of the money she was earning. It was her
mother who had arranged for her to be here and who had negotiated her
salary. Therefore, Danka’s parents knew exactly how much she was earning
and would demand she surrender all of her pay upon returning home. After
all, she was part of the household and Danubian tradition dictated that
everyone in a household had to contribute to everyone else’s well-being.
While Danka may have burned with resentment that her younger sister was
not with her at the work site, her parents did not see anything wrong
with that. There would be enough money in the family to marry off one
daughter, not two. If that daughter could be married to a husband who
owned land; that would benefit everyone. So…the plan was to save
Katrínckta for marriage and use Danka for working.
Danka didn’t say anything, but she had no intention of spending the rest
of her youth working for her parents and watching them dote over
Katrínckta. As soon as she could afford a proper dress, her plan was to
leave home and move into town. She wasn’t sure what she would do next,
but she had convinced herself that the only thing she needed to find a
decent husband was to change what she was wearing. After-all, she
remembered the legend of the servant girl who, with nothing more than
some magic, managed to transform her work outfit into a bridal gown, and
in doing so got the heir to the kingdom to marry her. Her expectations
were not so lofty, but surely she could wander the city in her new dress
and attract some handsome young guild member or city official. Why not?
The girl in the story did it…
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The pace of work slowed as the day got hotter. Shortly before noon, the
city councilman returned to the work site, this time accompanied by a
female city guard and a couple of wretched-looking criminals tasked with
carrying the mid-day meal for the work crew. The woman looked about 30,
was very tall, and was dressed in the long gray dress and white tunic
used by all female guards in the Duchy. In her hand she held a leather
switch. She had a haughty expression and carried herself with an air of
severe elegance.
It was evident the two criminals were very afraid of her as they
struggled with their heavy loads of food. Danka could see why as soon as
they approached. Their bodies were covered with welts from their
merciless mentor. After the food had been distributed they knelt,
staring at the eating workers with gaunt faces. The guard turned to her
miserable wards and Danka heard the following:
“You see, dishonored ones, how people who work get to eat. Look at that
delicious food and think about how much you’d like to have some. Think
about how that bread would taste in your mouth. Just think, if only you
weren’t wearing a collar, how you too, could be sitting with these
people and enjoying your meal. Think about it.”
The guard ended her statement with a savage blow to the back of each
criminal, striking so hard that they cried out. Danka realized that the
guard’s performance was not just to torment the criminals: it also was
meant to scare the workers into staying out of trouble.
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As soon as the guard and the criminals had departed, the workers passed
around a jug of wine and lay under a tree to rest. There was no rush to
finish the well, so they would take a nap and resume working when the
sun wasn’t so strong. Danka did not join the others. She excused
herself, picked up her bucket, and walked back to the orchard where she
had eaten her morning apples. She casually strolled along the fence,
checking to see if any of the orchard’s employees were in sight. Yes,
unfortunately, a few women were picking fruit, but none close to the
road. Danka decided to take the risk.
She set down the bucket and slipped under the fence. Crouching to stay
out of sight, she snuck up to a tree and carefully pulled down an
armload of apples. She quietly moved them to the fence; then returned to
pick some more. As soon as she had taken about 30 apples and moved them
to the edge of the property, she slipped back under the fence and
carefully placed the fruit in her bucket. Trying to stay calm and
maintain a neutral expression, she walked back towards the town. Instead
of returning to her work site, however, she approached an inn just
outside the south gate. She went around to the back where the kitchen
was located, looking for a childhood acquaintance who now was working as
a serving wench. Danka traded the apples for two copper coins. It was a
fair deal with no questions asked. The serving wench needed cheap apples
and Danka needed the money. Danka returned to digging site just as her
work-mates were waking up. Perfect. Another two coins were safely in her
possession.
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Danka did not hurry home after she and the other workers were dismissed
for the day. During her mid-day foray into the apple orchard she had
noticed how many apples there were and that many of them were in perfect
condition for picking. Surly the orchard owner’s employees would not
have time to harvest them all. Surly another bucket-full of fruit would
not be missed. Another chance to sell some fruit…and another chance add
coins to her collection…
Why not?
The pedestrian traffic along the road was much heavier at dusk than it
had been at noon, so Danka had to carefully time her entry into the
orchard. It helped that a group of children had entered to help
themselves to one apple each. Danka followed them and helped them pull
down better pieces of fruit. As soon as the children finished and
continued on their way, Danka crouched, waited for a few moments, then
started grabbing apples and quietly placed them in her bucket.
In spite of her caution, she was being watched. Farmer Tuko Orsktackt
crouched only a few fathoms away, drawing upon his former career in the
Grand Duke’s forest archery battalion to observe the thief without being
detected. Danka blissfully shook the branches and continued to pluck
fruit as the property owner noted, in careful detail, what she was
doing. Farmer Orsktackt was a meticulous man, and wanted to make sure
his legal complaint against the thief was completely accurate.
Danka moved back to the fence with her bucket full of apples. Instead of
heading home, she returned to the inn and exchanged her loot for another
two coins. Four coins in one day…an excellent take for such an
impoverished girl. And to think…tomorrow she’d get another four coins.
She’d have her dress bought within just a few weeks at the rate she was
going.
Farmer Orsktackt quietly followed her to the Inn, and observed enough to
make sure he was correct in his assumption the girl was selling the
fruit instead of taking it to her family. Excellent. There would be no
appeal for clemency, no sad stories about starving children or sick
parents. As soon as Danka left, Farmer Orsktackt entered the inn and
bought a beer and one of his own apples. Yes, indeed, this apple came
from his orchard. He now had everything he needed to send the pretty
young thief to the pillory.
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Danka returned to her parents’ house to spend what would be her final
normal night with her family. As always, nothing but unpleasantness
awaited her. Her parents greeted her by demanding to know why she had
returned home after dark. Not satisfied at Danka’s claim that she had
tried to take a shortcut and ending up getting lost, Danka’s father
struck her across the face and accused her of having a lover.
A lover…oh…if only that were true…if only...and it will be, soon enough.
I’ll show you…all of you…when I’m in the city with my fine dress and I
get married and have my nice house…I’ll see to it that Katrínckta wears
a collar and spends her entire life shoveling pig shit…and I’ll make you
watch. I’ll show all of you…
Dinnertime came and went. Danka’s father sat in the only chair the
family owned, while Danka, Katrínckta, and two younger brothers sat on
the floor. They ate out of a pot with a large spoon they had to take
turns sharing. It was a wretched existence, but it was the only one the
Siluckt children had ever known.
Later that night, when she closed the chicken coop, Danka added four
coins to the broken cup and covered it back up. Then she took off her
clothes and got in bed with her sister, the person she most hated in the
world.
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Early the next morning, Farmer Orsktackt stationed two of his employees
within sight of the fence and instructed them to report to him
immediately as soon as they saw a very pretty, but very poorly dressed,
young peasant woman carrying a shovel and a bucket enter the property.
Sure enough, shortly before sunrise Danka showed up, ate her allotted
apple, and then took off for work. Curious to see where she was going,
Farmer Orsktackt followed her towards the town.
Hmm…interesting…so it turned out she was an employee of the city
council, working on that new irrigation system. More evidence to damn
her at trial, given that Farmer Orsktackt was one of the project’s most
important financial contributors. On top of everything else, the orchard
owner was a personal friend of the city councilman in charge of the work
crews.
Farmer Orsktackt decided to pay a visit to his friend instead of dealing
with the hassle of going into town and trying to get an appointment with
a court official. Each saluted the other by thumping his right fist
against his left shoulder. After exchanging greetings and getting an
update on the progress of the digging, the farmer inquired about the
girl with the bucket.
“You mean the pretty one? Yes, her mother was the one who set her up
with this job. I assigned her at the pit to shovel dirt into the
wheelbarrows. Not the best worker, but the men like looking at her, so
she’s good for morale.”
“Well, I have some bad news for you. There’s a bit more than her not
being a good worker. She’s also been using that bucket of hers to take
apples out of my orchard. She started two weeks ago…slowly…but yesterday
it got worse. She came in twice, and each time left with a full bucket.
Last night I followed her to the inn near the south gate, and found out
that’s where she’s selling them.”
“Very well. I’ll have her arrested. As soon as my wife shows up, I’ll
have her go out to the pit and take the girl to court.”
The farmer thought for a moment.
“I don’t want to do it that way, Councilman. What I’d prefer is to catch
her on my property. Have a guard actually see her stealing the fruit.
That way she couldn’t deny anything and we could make an example out of
her.”
“True…true. But I’m not going to have a city guard waste time sitting on
your orchard waiting over a bucket of apples. We do have other concerns,
you know…”
“I’m not asking you to have anyone wait. I know for a fact that she’ll
go during the mid-day break. All you have to do is have someone go to my
farm just before you let your crew rest. As soon as she shows up and
fills the bucket, you’ll have her.”
“Very well. I’ll do as you suggest. And the guard I’ll send will be none
other than my wife. I’ll send Anníkki just before I release my workers
for the mid-day meal. Assuming your little thief shows up, my wife will
handle her appropriately.”
Farmer Orsktackt tightened his lips. “Handle her appropriately…” He had
heard stories about the councilman’s wife. Anníkki was a meticulous
guard, but had a reputation for cruelty. He saluted his friend and left
the work site, beginning to wonder if he was really handling the girl’s
stealing in the best way.
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Danka spent a second morning sullenly throwing half-shovels of dirt into
waiting wheelbarrows and thinking about her next apple heist. She began
to think about strategy; the possibility she could take more than one
bucketful at a time, hide the extra apples somewhere, and make two treks
to the inn. Another possibility was to obtain or make a large cloth bag
and perhaps put more apples in that. Anyhow, that would have to wait…for
today she’d still have to content herself with just one bucketful and
two coins per trip.
While Danka was thinking about apples, copper coins, and the dress that
would change the Path of her Life, the councilman’s wife showed up with
her two starving criminals carrying sacks full of food that was not for
them. Her husband pointed towards the well and told her about Danka and
the plan to catch her. Anníkki cheerfully set off towards the orchard,
flexing her switch as she walked.
As soon as she was out of sight, the councilman told the two criminals
to take two food rations for themselves before handing out the rest to
the workers. He felt sorry for the unfortunate wretches, but did not
like confronting his wife on such matters. Without saying anything, the
two men ate like ravenous animals.
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Danka ate her mid-day meal with the other workers. Then, as the others
lay down to sleep, she grabbed her bucket and set off for the orchard.
When she snuck up to the fence, she was pleased to see that no orchard
workers were in sight. Excellent. That would make everything so much
simpler. She’d grab her apples and sell them, and maybe even have time
to relax before the afternoon work shift.
Had she been older and less naïve, Danka would have sensed that
something wasn’t right and that she needed to leave immediately. It was
too easy, with no one around. Instead of sneaking back and forth with
armloads of apples, she simply took the bucket with her and within a
couple of minutes had it filled with the best fruit. She hopped the
fence and started her trek back to the inn. Her heart stopped when a man
in Farmers’ Guild clothing and a city guard stepped onto the road in
front of her, blocking her path.
“Good day, little thief! And just where do you think you’re going with
my apples?”
Danka panicked. She tried to run, stupidly thinking that she could
outpace her pursuers while still holding on to her shovel and apples. It
was true that Anníkki could not go after her, because a foot chase was
considered unbecoming for a female city guard. However, female guards
had the right to order any nearby man to chase and apprehend a criminal,
and it was already understood that Farmer Orsktackt would be the one to
catch and restrain the thief.
He caught up to her immediately. Danka screamed and threw everything
down. The bucket hit the road with a clang and apples rolled all around
her. It didn’t help. The farmer grabbed her arm and dragged the
struggling girl to where the guard was standing. Danka resisted,
incoherently protesting that she was innocent. To her horror, she saw
the guard unwinding the leather strips that would be used to tie her
hands.
“Take the girl to the fence. Face her to the railing and hold her arms.”
Farmer Orsktackt obeyed, moving his struggling captive to the fence.
Danka cried and desperately kicked at his shins while the guard wrapped
one of the girl’s wrists with a strip, expertly knotted it, then wrapped
the other end around the fence railing. She secured Danka’s other hand.
To make sure the thief had no chance of pulling herself free, Anníkki
secured her wrists with a second set of ties.
“Pick up the girl’s things and bring them over here. Make sure you get
all the apples.”
Danka cried and helplessly pulled against the binds while Farmer
Orsktackt returned to the spot where she had thrown down her things. As
soon as he returned, the guard grabbed Danka’s hair and jerked her head
back and forth.
“Who is your Master, you dishonored little tart? Who pays for your
living?” The guard slapped the prisoner hard across the face. “Tell me,
before I break your neck!”
“I…the…the councilman…he…”
“That is correct! And do you know who I am?”
“City…honored…city…guard…Mistress…”
“Yes, a city guard, but I am also the councilman’s wife! Do you
understand me? You are in the employ of my husband! You dishonored his
name…and the city’s name…and my name…with your vile and loathsome
actions!”
“Please Mistress…I didn’t…I… AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
The guard had picked up her switch and struck a savage blow on the
criminal’s thighs, just below her skirt. Danka continued to cry while
the guard grabbed her vest and tore it off her shoulders. The fabric was
old and gave way easily. The guard then tore at the girl’s skirt,
ripping the worn cloth. She produced a small knife and cut the
drawstring. She tossed the shredded garment on the ground, next to the
ruined vest.
Now wearing nothing but her boots, Danka was shaking with fear, so
strongly that her captors could see her body quivering uncontrollably.
The sight of a scared naked girl brought out pity in the farmer, but had
the opposite effect on the city guard. The guard had worked herself into
a sadistic frenzy and seeing the offender helplessly tied to the fence,
stripped bare, and paralyzed with fear animated her.
The guard’s next target was Danka’s hair. She roughly pulled at the
girl’s braids while she screamed. She landed a very hard slap across the
peasant’s face before finishing undoing her hair.
“Now the world sees you for what you are, dishonored tart! You are a
loose-haired savage slut!”
The guard picked up her switch and viciously slashed it through the air.
Danka screamed from panic while the guard ran her hand up and down her
naked bottom.
“Girl-meat. Dishonored girl-meat, meant for my leather. Prepare to
suffer, dishonored thieving little tart!”
The guard struck hard as Danka screamed and pulled at her bonds. She
twisted and jerked her body, but the bindings held tight and she could
not evade the cruel blows. The guard smiled as she tapped Danka’s naked
bottom and struck another cruel blow. The crack of leather on bare skin
echoed throughout the orchard between the thief’s shrill screams.
Farmer Orsktackt was both fascinated and horrified by the girl’s
punishment. Seeing the girl with her hair unbraided was a unique
experience, because never had he seen a Danubian woman with her hair
loose. The peasant was very attractive and had a nice body, so seeing
her aroused him. However, the extent of her suffering, and the knowledge
that he was responsible for making it happen, made him sick with guilt.
He had not expected the councilman’s wife to tie her to the fence and
whip her with the switch on his property, and certainly he had not
expected her to undo the thief’s braids.
After 30 hard strokes, the guard paused. Danka has sunk to her knees and
was sobbing uncontrollably.
“Very well, you miserable dishonored lying slut…now I’ll let you talk.
You sold the apples at the Inn near the south gate, correct?”
The guard concluded her question with a cruel swipe at the girl’s
welt-covered backside, crossing multiple weals and eliciting another
shrill scream.
“Y…yes…Mistress…I sold…the apples…Inn…”
“For how much?”
“Two copper coins…per…bucket…Mistress…”
“How many coins do you now have?”
“Mistress…Please…AIEEEEEEEEEEE!”
“I’ll ask you again. How many coins do you have?”
“Nineteen…Mistress…”
“Where?”
“Chi…chicken coop…house….AIEEEEEEEEEEE!”
“Hmm…so your father will be happy to know that his dishonored little
slut liar is keeping stolen money on his property! I’ll make sure he
knows…”
Danka sobbed, not just from the pain, but from knowing that her dream
was gone. Her father would either use the money on Katrínckta or have to
return it to Farmer Orsktackt. She screamed when the guard grabbed her
hair and pulled her to her feet. The guard struck savagely several more
times and Danka sank back to her knees. When the girl’s sobs died down,
she continued the interrogation.
“How many times did you steal apples from this orchard?”
“I…I don’t…maybe ten…eleven…”
The guard grabbed Danka’s hair and again jerked her to her feet.
“Yesterday…how many times?”
“Two times, Mistress.”
“What time?”
“Lunchtime…after work, Mistress.”
“Now. Why did you steal the apples? What did you want to do with the
money?”
“Buy a dress, Mistress…AIEEEEEEEEEEE!”
“Buy a dress? Why?”
“Go…in town…be nice…”
The guard pulled Danka to her feet yet again and struck hard.
“You miserable dishonored slut…so you wanted to buy a dress to go
whoring.”
The guard raised the switch. At that point Danka cared about nothing
except trying to avoid any more blows. She sobbed and confessed to
something that was blatantly untrue, that she wanted the dress to work
as a prostitute. At that point the farmer interjected:
“Guard Anníkki…please. The girl’s confessed. There’s nothing more to be
done here. I’m a busy man and I’ve seen enough. I insist you take the
criminal to court.”
The guard gave the farmer a disgusted look, angry that he cut short her
fun. However, he was right. The girl had confessed and there was no
point in interrogating her any further. She untied Danka’s hands from
the fence and secured her wrists behind her back. With a firm grip on
her arm the guard led her towards the gate and a holding cell inside the
city. The farmer, deeply regretting his part in the arrest, reluctantly
followed, carrying Danka’s boots and her bucket filled with his apples.
As they approached the gate, a couple of Danka’s neighbors passed by.
When the girl tried to put down her head and hide her face under her
loose hair, the guard kicked her in the backs of her knees and forced
her to kneel. She grabbed the captive’s hair and forced her to look up.
“Tell these men your name and what you did.”
“I…I’m Danka Siluckt…and I…stole apples…”
“She’ll go on the pillory tomorrow. Make sure her family knows, so they
can see their daughter’s dishonor.”
