Heart's Debt by Cheryl Holt

Author:Cheryl Holt
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2016-03-14T18:30:00+00:00

Damian at 14…

A LOAF OF BREAD is missing.”

Damian stood in a line of shivering, weary boys who were so fatigued they could barely focus on Lt. Butler’s remark. He must have noticed they weren’t paying attention, for he repeated it.

“A loaf of bread is missing from the kitchen. Who will admit to stealing it?”

Two dozen pairs of eyes gaped at him, all of them aware that they couldn’t confess. Punishment at the compound was swift and vile and could be deadly if Lt. Butler had been drinking to excess or if he was hung over. He had a dangerous temper, a strong arm, and a wicked cat-o’-nine tails that could inflict significant damage.

Butler surveyed the pathetic group. They were skin and bones, their clothes ragged, their hair long and shaggy. In London, they had been branded worst-of-the-worst, labeled incorrigible and, once they’d arrived in Australia, given to Lt. Butler so he could mold them into model citizens with brutality and back-breaking labor.

Exactly how that was supposed to occur, Damian had never quite figured out.

“Gentlemen,” Butler said, “we will stand here all night if need be. Who is the culprit?” He paced before the boys who were frozen with terror. “Turn him in. When you know the identity of the guilty party, why put yourself through such misery?”

Butler examined the boys, his feral gaze landing on each one individually, making them squirm and shudder with dread, which he enjoyed very much.

He wasn’t that tall, but he was very fat, having found numerous ways to hoard supplies and take more than his portion of the colony’s food stuffs. He was a tyrant, a corrupt, amoral fiend who felt entitled to whatever he wrongly amassed.

Rumor had it that he’d been sent to Australia in disgrace, that he’d committed an unpardonable blunder in the army. Or perhaps it was simply his extreme love of whiskey that had been his downfall. But he was very angry about the demotion, about being banished to the penal colonies, and he vented his rage on those who were weaker and smaller so a collection of half-starved boys suited his purposes.

No one had spoken up, and Butler hissed, “Tell me! Whoever does will receive a helping of beef at supper.”

It was an enormous bribe, and Damian imagined someone would eventually tattle. Not in front of the others, but they would privately slip a name to a guard. Damian didn’t blame them for their trivial betrayals. Theirs was an incredibly difficult existence, and an extra serving of food often seemed like it might literally be the difference between life and death.

Under ordinary circumstances, he’d have ignored the petty drama, but he thought Kit might have stolen the bread. Normally Kit wouldn’t consider such a dastardly deed, but a younger boy was very ill, and Kit had a soft spot for the less fortunate. If Kit was caught, he’d be severely beaten by Lt. Butler so Damian couldn’t risk that the true offender would be revealed.

He inhaled a deep breath, then stepped forward.

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