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Historical Fiction Thriller

Trying not to spill his buckets, Turpi climbed the staircase for the fifth time that afternoon and the eleventh time for the day. The rough skin on his feet left no visible marks on the steps, but he knew, after trekking these stairs over a dozen times a day for the last 17 years, his feet caused the worn and smooth parts on the otherwise rough stone. 17 years fetching water; 17 years climbing up and down, from the lowest points along the marsh and then 9 stories up and hundreds of feet out along the cliff to the isolation tower overhanging the crashing waves of the Dunburg Sea; 17 years, long enough for him to forget his real name and just accept the name given to him by the first Warden of the Dunburg Tunnels when it opened and Turpi showed up in the second batch of prisoners to arrive.

Of the nearly 100 prisoners that arrived 17 years ago, only 3 remained, Turpi and two others in solitary confinement at the top of the isolation tower. Turpi knew their names, but every Warden in the prison’s history prohibited anyone from speaking their names. These two prisoners were the unheardofs, the prisoners no one acknowledged, the prisoners long forgotten by all but their lost families, and only a few select people at the prison even knew they were there.  The rest of the initial prisoners’ bones (and many more over the last 17 years) lay dumped in the marsh, brought out there by other prisoners in shackles and watched by armed guards. The same marsh Turpi collected water from to quench the thirst of all prisoners but himself and the unheardofs

The water in his buckets looked brown with visible bugs and small floating plant particles.  Turpi was convinced the water led to dysentery among the prisoners, followed by slow and painful deaths. Turpi knew not to say anything to the other prisoners, the guards saw to that long ago when they beat Turpi for questioning the cleanliness of the water before serving it. With only one eye and scars all over his face and back, Turpi accepted his role of slowly poisoning his fellow prisoners. By now he knew the summer months were the worst, when the heat and humidity created festering rot in the marsh and the toxicity of the water rose. For years he tried to filter the water with his shirt, but several months ago a guard followed him and secretly watched him filtering the water. 3 missing teeth and a lost shirt later Turpi could no longer filter the water. One of the most important lifesaving resources was also one of the deadliest cocktails the prisoners ‘enjoyed’ and the current average prisoner lifespan dwindled to less than a year.

After finishing the sixth trip of the afternoon to and from the marsh, Turpi walked to the well in the prison courtyard and collected water in two different buckets, buckets cleaned every day and water free from toxic ingredients. One bucket would serve the Warden and senior staff at lunch and one served Turpi and the unheardofs. Turpi knew he could not contaminate a bucket in any way because he dropped the Warden’s water off first and, each day, the Warden choose a bucket at random, ensuring his safety.

When he reached the Warden’s mess hall, a guard opened the door and both the guard and Turpi walked into the all too familiar scene; abundant meats, bread, fruits, and veggies piled on plates waiting for the senior staff to enter and indulge. Turpi stood off to the side and waited while the senior staff filtered in, taking seats according to rank. Finally, the Warden, walking in with his Deputy, waved Turpi over. 

“You smell as horrible as usual Turpi” the Warden chided.

Then, looking at both buckets he selected the one in Turpi’s left hand.

Turpi put the right bucket down and walked over to start filling the Warden’s glass. Unfortunately, Turpi’s hands shook and some water spilled on the Warden’s plate and down on his boots.

“You bastard!” The Warden shouted, and slapped Turpi across the face, leaving a large red area (soon to be a welt) across his face. “You did that on purpose, you filthy creature. How many times are you going to spill our water?”

“Sir,” the Deputy interjected “May I suggest a ladle for Turpi in the future? He is getting old and we wouldn’t want him to die from exhaustion before he finishes his 30-year prison sentence.”

The table roared with laughter as their hands banged on the table in a mock clap as Turpi finished pouring the water for the senior staff.

“Excellent idea, yes, an excellent idea!” Turning to the guard standing behind Turpi the Warden continued “Guard, make sure this filthy creature uses a wooden ladle for serving water in the future starting tomorrow. If you ever see his without the wooden ladle, you may give him 5 lashes as a reminder.”

“Yes Sir!” the guard snapped to attention with his reply as a small smile cracked his lips. For 2 years the guard escorted Turpi, and for 2 years the guard nearly retched due to the smell. Now, he relished the thought of lashing Turpi (and he knew right there he would forget the number he was at, and add a couple more lashes for pure enjoyment.)

“Bring that other bucket over here Turpi” the Warden commanded.

Turpi retrieved the other bucket of water for him and the unheardofs and walked back to the Warden.

“Well, time we add some additional protein to this water gentlemen.” And finishing his decree, the Warden growled his throat, curled his tongue, and spit a large phlegm ball into the bucket.

Again, the table roared with laughter, and the Warden made Turpi walk around the table to everyone so they too can add ‘some protein.’

Turpi picked up the empty bucket and walked out of the mess and headed towards the two other prisoners, with the guard in tow.

Turpi reached the isolation cells and the two unheardofs, dropped the empty bucket, and started to knock on each cell door. A hand and cup slipped out from a small window in the steel door, Turpi filled each cup to the brim, ensuring that each received as much water as possible, but tried to prevent any phlegm from transferring to either cup.

As he filled the cups, and then returned to his own cell just outside the isolation cells, Turpi thought about his predicament. For 17 years he and the two unheardofs rotted in this prison for simply exercising their religion, an exercise the government forbid. The government restricted any type of worship outside of worshiping the government (and its leaders) itself. The two unheardofs were Turpi’s religious leaders, and the leaders of a flock of worshipers now almost all dead (or in complete hiding due to fear.) Circumstances had not played well in Turpi’s hand, as he was visiting the two when the secret police raided the building and all three were quickly sentenced to 30-year prison sentences. Turpi’s only ‘saving grace' was his age at the time. Clearly, the government knew he was only a follower, not a leader, but being in the presence of the other two was bad enough.

After his evening water delivery (minus the Warden’s mess since dinner included wine, not water), Turpi sat alone in his cell, looking at the wooden ladle the guard left him, turning it over and around in his hands. The ladle’s age and poor workmanship were clearly evident, but Turpi knew the functionality did not lack. He had not purposefully spilled the water (this time) on the Warden. His hands were still strong, even if weathered, and he was not sure why he spilled the water. Maybe it was a subconscious action?

The next morning Turpi carried his first set of buckets up from the marsh and through the gates, where a guard stood waiting to let him in and out. Then, another guard walked with him to the lowest prison cells to deliver the water.

As he started to pour the water into a trough for one cell’s prisoners, he felt a whip slash his back, and he immediately dropped the bucket. Six more lashes snapped across his back, cat-o-nine tails leaving multiple marks with each slash. Turpi tried to get up, but it took a few extra seconds to catch his breath.

“I thought the Warden instructed you to serve the water with a ladle from now on you wretch!”

Turpi turned his head to look at the guard, realizing it was the same one from yesterday that heard the Warden’s edict. Turpi didn’t think the Warden meant for him to serve the prisoners with the ladle so he tried to explain his actions.

“Sir, I am not sure the Warden meant…”

Turpi immediately felt another slash across his back as the guard quickly whipped him again.

“Don’t contradict me or the Warden prisoner! You and I both heard him say ‘…make sure this filthy creature uses a wooden ladle for serving water in the future.’ and I intend to see his command followed.”

Another slash whipped across Turpi’s back, then another.

“Now get up and go get more water, plus the ladle, vermin” the guard added while kicking the one bucket that still contained water.

For the rest of the morning, the guard followed Turpi, and gave him a whipping anytime Turpi even looked like he might disobey. When it came time to provide drinks for the Warden and his staff, the Warden did not show up, but the rest of the staff laughed as the guard followed Turpi, cat-o-nine tails in hand, and already bloodied skin peeling away from Turpi’s back. 

Back in his cell before the midday water delivery, Turpi used the remaining water in the unheardofs bucket to wash his back, thankful it was not the water from the marsh. For a while, he sat there trying to forget the pain, but it didn’t work. Then, an idea formed in his head, and the pain almost completely washed away. Yes, he liked the plan, and he intended to implement it during lunch.

He carried the prisoners’ buckets, with the ladle inside one of the buckets, with him to the marsh, making sure the guards saw the ladle. Filling each one up, he made the trek, ladle inside, back and forth six times, always ensuring the ladle maintained as much contact with the water from the marsh as possible.

After serving the prisoners, Turpi picked up the two clean buckets and walked to the well with the end of the ladle handle in his mouth, filled up the buckets and headed to the Warden’s Mess, and waited for the Warden to arrive.

“Yes, there we go, finally, we won’t have any spilled water Turpi” the Warden commented when entering. “And I see my guard needed to remind you to serve the water with the ladle earlier…hopefully you never forget that lesson.”

“Sir, I will never forget. I am sorry for my transgressions and I pray for your forgiveness” Turpi replied as carefully as possible with the handle in his mouth.

The Warden laughed (and the rest of the table followed suit.)

“Let’s take the left one again Turpi, and I want to see your pinky raised as you serve.”

Turpi set the right one down, took the ladle in his hand and quickly dunked it into the bucket and poured the water into the Warden’s glass, then the Deputy’s glass, and ran around the table going down in seniority, as quickly and carefully as he could, pinky raised, then left the ladle in the partially empty bucket when done.

“Yes, yes I like this” the Warden said as Turpi collected the extra bucket for the unheardofs. “Yes indeed, this is much better. From now on, you need to perform this exactly like you just did, quickly without spilling a drop, and pinky raised. And my Guards” the Warden turned to his guards behind Turpi “will ensure it’s done exactly the same, correct? Or feel free to add some scars to his back after he leaves my mess.” The Warden and senior staff all laughed, while the guards all nodded their approval and shouted “Yes, SIR!”

Turpi bowed his head and replied, “Yes sir, I will follow this procedure to the letter going forward, sir.”

As he left, Turpi heard the Warden and the others continue to laugh and joke about his performance. When he reached the isolation cells, he quickly stirred the ladle in the Warden’s bucket, let it drip off, swished it through the air to ensure nothing remained and served the two unheardofs.

Finally, back in his cell, he smiled as he drank his water. Yes, his performance worked and his plan would continue. With any luck, the marsh filth left on the ladle after serving the prisoners would infect the Warden’s water, and less so for each lower officer. Finally, he hoped his cleaning actions eliminated the marsh filth as much as possible for him and the unheardofs.

Three months later, Turpi continued to serve the water according to the Warden. Well, the previous Warden, who left after coming down with dysentery, as well as the Deputy and Chief of Guards who also left several weeks apart. The other senior staff just looked a bit pale (and more subdued) these days. No one ever questioned the serving procedures, since the other senior staff and guards (plus Turpi and the unheardofs) never got sick from the well water. 

August 26, 2022 22:29

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1 comment

Kevin Alphatooni
23:36 Aug 31, 2022

Interesting story, especially the twist at the end. Also, by the end of the story, I really started to empathize with Turpi. You did a great job at painting the guards as the villains. As for critiques, your story could get wordy/repetitive at times. I would recommend spending some more time editing down sentences for clarity and to ensure you don't over use certain words. For example, if you are telling the story from a third person, you don't have to start each sentence with "Turpi", a more simple pronoun would suffice.

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