Born after midnight.

The moonlight was bright on the stable floor as the sleeping boy dreamt. It was the same troubling dream that returned time after time when life was most difficult and times were harder, even than usual.

A Man stood in the pale firelight screaming curses at his mother who yelled back just as angrily. As usual it was as if he were not even there, his cries ignored by both his mother and the extortionist pimp in front of her.

The mood in the room grew increasingly ugly causing the boy to retreat to a dark corner of the room. When the rape began his mother fought back only briefly since for her this was nothing new. The boy watched while his mother lay still on the floor until her transgressor announced his completion in a series of savage grunts. As the man stood up and closed his breaches the woman sat up glaring up at him from the floor then yelled for him to get out. The man laughed and reached down to pull the woman to her feet, but flew angry again as the boys mother smiled and said "There was a pin prick I couldn't feel at all."

The man grabbing her arm hit her hard enough to cause her to fall limp to the floor, and laughed as he replied "Then I'll take ya round ta meet all me friends an yul be feelin thisun fer a week."

She did not fight as he dragged her away and the boy who had seen this happen before cried as he always did awaiting her return, but this time there was no return. Days and nights passed slowly with the poor boy spending most of his time hiding from the flesh merchants, slavers and those who might seek to kill for the strange pleasure of that.

In time his hunger grew since their was nothing left to eat in the dilapidated basement he knew as his home and the boy not knowing what else to do went out to look for his mother but did not find her. The world became a jumble of disjointed incidents in a game of skulking and stealing whatever food he might find. His excursions took place mostly in the darkness before the dawning of each day until after a few weeks and a close nearly fatal call with an innkeeper he fled into the countryside.

The rural place he found himself in now appeared to offer more promising fare but In stead he found himself eating from trash heaps and worse until one day he sat in the middle of a barren road at mid day staring at his bony hands

Awakened to the sound of a wolfs howl the boy sat up in alarm.

The sound had come from close by followed shortly by another; it had to be just outside. The near panicked, urgency of the moment forced the dream from his mind as he ripped himself from his bed in the straw of the barn loft. The air chilled by the passing of night bit hard as he scampered to find where he'd left the pitch fork which was a difficult task in dim moon light. Now the dying squeal of a young pig sounded in urgent alarm. The animal could be heard thrashing wildly as the other livestock responded in even more commotion. Three seconds rapidly passed then, more of the same as by ones and twos the farm animals fell to the ravenous wolves. With fork in hand the boy charged blindly out into the full moonlight only to be confronted by a hopeless scene. Whatever resolve there he had was instantly lost and replaced by overpowering fear.

The wolves perhaps ten or fifteen were busy mauling everything that moved. Unwilling to offer himself as a bonus to the wolves' gory feast, the boy retreated back into the shelter of the stable. There was nothing that he could do to protect the animals from the wolves since there were far too many for him to handle alone. As the bloodbath continued the realization hit the ten year old boy that with the death of the animals there would be a terrible retribution. Someone would be held to accounts and he knew what that meant. In short order the lantern inside the farmer's house was lit and farmer's wife stood at the door but only for a moment before it closed and her shadowy figure appeared again briefly at the window. Climbing back into the loft the boy cried knowing that when the farmer came home he would be beaten to a pulp and then cast off or may be even worse.

As the wolves had finally had their fill the savage sounds subsided and the fearfully exhausted boy fell back into fitful dreams. This time the dreams were no better as they once again retold elements his terrible life story. The story was a tale of regret, its message cluttered with discord, pain, and cruelty. To the boy it was not known that life could offer anything else since within the very few years he'd experienced he had seen nothing else. Happiness was an emotion he had hardly known, for in its place was forced a terrible lesson. All life is cheap while to live at all was pain.

The time passed too rapidly and soon the bad dreams were again abruptly ended but this time by the angry bellowing of the drunken farmer upon his return from the inn. The boy was afraid and pulled his tattered blanket over his head as if to hide but he knew that there was no place to hide. In his mind he could already see the farmer, a large framed man who carried the scars of his brutish existence like a badge. In truth he was nothing but as a drunken lout with a penchant toward violence. Feared by most who knew him the man let his quick anger control his life and any other life that he could overbear. The poor wife of the man was more stolen than won and the only bond that kept her at home was the bond of master over a crushed and destroyed spirit. Her name was Jillai a small woman with deep golden hair, and kind heart. She looked as if she may have been beautiful once but now her outward countenance was nothing but a fragile shell. Jillai hated her husband and the life of bondage she lived because there was in it no promise but that of labor.

The boy had come to the farm by chance. It was a sympathetic gesture on the part of the farmer's wife who found him one day trying to steal a chicken. The farmer was away at the time and drunk on the time of his return from spending the night in a freezing ditch. The man fell ill and took some time to recover and the boy worked out as a hand even though he knew nothing of farming or livestock. The arrangement was something that had sort of happened rather than it had been bargained out. Jillai did what she could since the boy was at least something she could try to believe was her own. As things were the poor boy was not allowed near the house, though he was given one meal a day and a place in the barn to sleep as long as he completed all his chores and did not anger the farmer with his presence. At times when the farmer was away the boy would sit with Jillai and just listen to her talk, and he really loved her as he believed she did him. When they were alone together there was still a trace of who she should have been if the circumstances were different.

On that morning Jillai made a fatal mistake. While the boy still hid the fearful woman knew what was about to happen and putting herself in mortal danger went to the farmer on his behalf. Dressed only in her night shawl she rushed out and tried to tell the drunken farmer of the hopelessness of the previous night. For her trouble she was struck by a thunderous blow of the drunk's right fist. The mad man began to kick the woman relentlessly until she finally lay still.

The boy witnessed the end of the assault through a crack in the barn wall and In that moment something in the young boy exposed itself as a rage that perhaps went beyond that of the drunken madman. The boy could no longer stay hidden and climbing purposefully down from the loft as the drunk nudged the motionless woman with the toe of his boot cursing. "Get up you goddamn bitch".

Armed with the pitchfork and a primal rage the young boy ran outside. "Leave her alone leave her alone or I'll kill you." The Farmer looking insane turned on the young boy and started to advance slowly while looking around for a weapon.

At that moment by either fate or circumstance four mounted soldiers were passing on the nearby road and heard the farmer's angry challenge. "Ya goddamn little sunofa bitch ya let my animal all get killed an Ima gunna kill you for it." One of the soldiers, a grizzled old private who had seen far too much of killing and needless death, started to take action when he was stopped by his Captain.

"No private wait I want to see this."

"But sir… that kid aint got a chance." Replied the solder as the large man found a stout limb to use for a club and made his attack. Charging in a lumbering way he moved toward the boy with no fear at all being not unaccustomed to destroying any who had challenged him in the past. The man laughed as he came on.

Meanwhile the boy stood his ground as the Farmer momentarily stopped and grunted out. "Drop that fork an get whats comin to ya whelp. I'll teach ya ta arm yerself agin me." The boy strangely felt no fear as the large man drew close. The lad was somewhat used to holding the pitchfork as a weapon having used it in fighting off wolves, but he had never before faced a man in battle.

The Tiny combatant waited until the last possible second, then Dodged the drunken farmer's awkward swing of the club and delivered a powerful thrust of the pitchfork to the man's stomach just under the ribs. A sudden shocked look covered the drunken mans face as he stumbled backward slowly with his arms covering his terribly wounded midsection. He slumped to the ground making a whimpering sound while the boy dropped the fork and walked quickly to a small storage building.

The Old private clapped his hands together while one man who wore the rank of sergeant laughed and said. "Goddamn sir, I wish I had a few like him in my outfit he done it without batting an eye."

The captain smiled as he watched the boy come out of the building carrying a sticking knife. "Cold he is that one."

When the sergeant saw what was about to happen he grimaced. "Goddamn is he gonna?"

The boy closed in on the wounded man then placing the point of the blade at the farmer's throat the boy plunged it downward and stopped the man's heart as he had done in the past with many defenseless pigs. The large man let out a last gasp as he reeled backward snapping the blade from the knife. With the handle still held tightly the boy turned and walked into the stable for his blanket dropping the handle to the ground.

The captain smiled as he turned to the dumbfounded sergeant. "Go get him; I have use of his kind."

The sergeant frowned. "What use sir?"

"He will serve Embia just as we do sergeant."

The sergeant smiled weakly at his captain. "Serve as we do, how?" The Captain smiled back. "What you said earlier after he struck with the pitchfork made me almost laugh, but how he followed that action made me think. I have an assignment after all; we need as many like him as we can find."

As the sergeant moved to do his bidding the private addressed the captain. "Sir what about the woman?"

The captain shook his head. "Shondice, I don't know what you mean, you see I've no use for her."

Shondice frowned. "Uh, I mean maybe she's dead or something."

The captain laughed as he slapped the old man on the shoulder. "Go and see if you must."