Cherreads

Chapter 21 - THE LABOUR

The cage that held Lara was close enough for sound—

but too far for sight.

Tiza could see its outline.

A dark, rigid shape against the night.

Bars forming a shadow within shadows.

Figures moved inside it—blurred, indistinct. Guards passed occasionally, their torches casting brief, flickering light before darkness swallowed everything again.

But the sound—

the sound carried clearly.

He listened.

He had been trained for this.

The Dark Angels had taught him how to read the world through sound alone.

To hear what others missed.

To understand what others ignored.

He had learned to locate enemies by breath.

To distinguish weapons by the smallest mechanical click.

To follow movement through forests, through ruins, through chaos—by listening to how the world shifted around it.

But never—never like this.

He had never used those skills… to listen to life being born.

At first, it was only noise. Breathing. Movement. Voices layered over one another. Then—a pattern emerged.

Rhythm.

He recognized it slowly. Carefully. A cycle. Tension building. Holding. Peaking—then releasing. Again And again. Lara. He knew her breathing.

He had memorized it over two years of quiet nights.

The soft rise and fall beside him.

The calm rhythm that had once brought him peace.

Now—it had changed. Deeper. More controlled. More deliberate. She was using what she had been taught.

He remembered her voice once—light, amused—when he had asked about the quiet gatherings of village women.

"Every girl learns," she had said.

"Just like boys learn to hunt."

Now she hunted something else. Survival. Life. She did not cry out.

That—hurt more than anything Jeremiah had said.

Tiza heard the pain.

It was there. Hidden beneath restraint. In the slight break of breath. In the low sounds that escaped her—not quite words, not quite cries. She held it in. For the child. For the women around her. And maybe… for him. But she was not alone. Another voice.

Younger. Unsteady. A girl.

Tiza listened more closely. Her breathing was wrong. Too fast. Too shallow.

This was her first. And too soon. An early birth.

There was panic in her rhythm.

Fear she could not control.

Pain she did not understand.

The women responded quickly.

Their voices lowered. Focused. Instructions passed between them. Soft. Urgent.

"Breathe."

"Push."

"Again."

No tools.No preparation.

Tiza could hear the absence. No tearing cloth. No water being poured. No careful arrangements.

Nothing that belonged to a world of safety. Only hands. Only voices.Only will.

The soldiers remained outside. Turned away. They did not watch. They did not care to. They believed they were offering privacy. Mercy. But the women knew better.

They used it. Within that cage—a plan moved quietly between them. Something unspoken. Tiza could not see it. But he could feel it.

Still—he did not move. His hands clenched. Chains shifted slightly. Metal brushing metal.

The sound was small. But sharp. He forced himself still. Any movement now—was response. Any response—was participation.

And that…he would not give. Not to Jeremiah. But he could not stop listening.

The rhythm grew stronger.

Lara's breathing deepened.

Forced. Driven. Each breath pulled from somewhere deeper within her.

Beyond exhaustion.

Beyond pain.

The women's voices rose slightly. Not in fear—but in focus.

They were working. Fully. Completely. There was no space for distraction. No room for hesitation. Only the moment. Only the life coming into it. Then—something changed.

The rhythm broke.

Silence.

Not his silence. Not the hollow. Something else. A different kind. A held breath. Many held breaths. Time… paused. The night itself seemed still.Waiting For what came next.

More Chapters