Grains of Sand

by Varian Morn

  Maybe even family...?

  “Surely Noth, being such a leader... is used to the loss of people?” I asked.

  The two went silent for a moment, and eventually nodded. “Yeah... I suppose he is. But, when it comes to us...” the old man stopped talking, as if he didn't want to say anymore.

  “He's a strong man. Hard not to be, when you own a Line. But Noth's got quite a soft spot. It's not a very large one, and it doesn't show itself often... but it is there,” she explained.

  He nodded, and with a sigh agreed with her. “Noth is soft.”

  The way he said it told me it was a common saying, at least amongst those on the Line.

  “So...?” I softly asked, hoping for more.

  “He probably is still hurting over it. Though he won't show it, or really say it. He cares for his people too much. It's the one thing I've always been bothered about, but knew I could never change,” the old man said.

  “I... I don't understand. Why would it be a bad thing for your leader to care for his people?” I asked.

  “Sometimes, to protect everyone, a Line Owner has to make harsh decisions. The kind that means sacrifices. Noth has trouble with that... and it's cost him on occasion,” the woman said.

  Her voice had grown softer, as if she was speaking to a young child... and I knew that's exactly how she saw it.

  She was speaking to me, a young child, about the finer matters of life.

  But I took no offense to it.

  Since after all, although nowhere near as wise or old as they... I was still smart enough to read in-between the lines.

  And understand.

  “So... you two don't tease Noth much do you?” I asked, changing topics.

  “Now why would you ask that?” the old man asked.

  “Because you won't even joke around about my position. You know, how I'm... not really what they say I am,” I said.

  The two were silent for a moment, and then the woman gave me a small smile as she patted my thigh. “How'd you reach that conclusion?” she asked.

  “You two never once called me Noth's bride, or wife. You called me his guest,” I said.

  The man smiled, and the woman giggled. “Indeed. But... who knows. Maybe we will in time?” she then said.

  “Doubtful...” I said softly.

  “On the contrary. This is the Front-Line. You can't doubt anything that happens here,” the man said.

  “Hm... I must admit, I can see why you chose to live here instead of anywhere else,” I said.

  “There's plenty of room for another,” the woman said.

  I didn't respond to that... at least, not aloud. Mostly because I couldn't trust myself to say the right thing.

  Or perchance, the wrong thing... depending on how I looked at it.

  “That's also a little...” I couldn't even finish the sentence, since it hurt so much.

  Coughing a little, I stood from the bench before they could say anything more about such things. I wasn't in the mood to cry, at least not right now... not in front of them.

  “I enjoyed talking with you... but I probably should go and find my caretakers. Noth wants an eye on me, after all, and I've probably wandered enough,” I said.

  “Young lady, if Noth didn't want you enjoying his Line, you'd not be doing so. Don't worry about it,” the man said to me.

  For a moment I stood there, staring at the elderly man who quite obviously stood behind what he said.

  “I see... Even still, I should go. Maybe if we meet again, before I must depart, would grace me with your wisdom again?” I asked with a bow.

  “Anytime,” the woman said.

  The man didn't say anything more, but he nodded and smiled... and that was enough for me.

  Giving them a small wave, I left the neat little room and the lovely old couple behind.

  I had to leave... lest I fell even deeper in love with this place.

  Especially now...

  Since now I knew.

  It all made sense now.

  It was clear as the windows of this Line.

  As bright as the sun reflected off the sand.

  To bring down the House of Derri... I first needed to incur Noth's wrath.

  And I now knew exactly how to do it.

  Chapter Thirty – A Meal

  “Shall we eat husband?”

  Staring down at the woman, and the table lined with food in the middle of my office, I had to bite my tongue to silence myself.

  “I'll go handle that thing...” Jamthi said with a snicker.

  “Ah! I mean. Same. Very busy...” Sarley too, quickly joined him, and as I turned to yell at them, the two had hurried out and escaped.

  Their foolish laughs could be heard for awhile down the hall, so I simply slammed shut my office door.

  “Is it so strange to eat? Or perchance did you just eat, and they're laughing because of that?”

  Taking a deep breath, I turned around and did a once over of the room. Luckily she was alone. If someone else had been in here, I would have blamed them entirely...

  “I have not eaten yet, no,” I said plainly.

  She didn't just get a table, but a set of chairs... even a candle. Who had prepared this? Why in my office? Why not just take me to one of the dining areas?

  “Good! Everything's still warm. And fresh! Tiana was very nice and prepared it all herself!” she said proudly.

  Tiana?

  I quickly ran down a list of cooks in my head, but couldn't quite place it. I knew her name, but couldn't immediately think of a face or which station she worked.

  Didn't matter, I'd find out after this.

  Rubbing the bridge of my nose, I wondered who I should exile first.

  Jamthi? Didn't want to seem like I was favoring him, so it had to be him first. To set an example of course. Was going to have to be to extra punishing too, whatever I did.

  Then Sarley... then this Tiana, then...

  Or maybe I should just exile myself, save all the trouble of paperwork and...

  A clatter of plates drew my attention away from my plans of exile, and I looked down to see that she was setting a plate for me.

  Even going so far as to get the food ready for me, as if I was some child and she my mother.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Huh?” she paused in the middle of trying to cut off a piece of skin from a slice of meat.

  She looked down to what she was doing, and then back up at me. “Was just... trying to prepare it,” she said, and I waved her back.

  Sitting down across from her, I sighed and grabbed my own fork and knife. “You don't remove the skin. That's the best part of this dish. It's where all the flavor is,” I said.

  “Oh...” she softly said, sitting back down in her own chair. The look on her face told me she hadn't known, and had been somewhat embarrassed by it.

  “It's not your fault,” I said.

  “Of course it isn't. I didn't know, I've never eaten it before... but it's still embarrassing,” she said as she went to preparing her own plate.

  The platter of food in the center of the table didn't just have meat, but even fish. Considering our fish stockpiles are nearly empty, someone had gone all out on this.

  That meant that this Tiana cook wasn't the mastermind. It must have been Jamthi or Sarley.

  A standard cook wouldn’t have the gall to use such precious resources just to perform a stale joke.

  “I uh... I asked to eat, but I told him I wanted to eat with you. But then he said something about eating in a restaurant, but I didn't want to eat around other people... and one thing led to another,” she started to explain, as if for once she was actually ashamed of her actions.

  “Jamthi then,” I understood.

  “Jamthi? What about him?”

  “This was his idea?” I said, pointing my knife around the table.

  “Nope?”

  “Then whose...?” There really wasn't anyone else who could just do this, at least not withou
t permission...

  “Yevin’s,” she said with a smile.

  The answer didn't just shock me… it nearly made me lose my appetite.

  My fists fell to the table, and I groaned.

  Mutiny. I had a mutiny on my hands.

  To think even Yevin would go so far...

  He had been the one man I hadn't even thought capable. What the hell was going on here?

  “He's such a kind man. Maybe having such a huge body means a huge heart?” she asked herself as she began to eat.

  “That man could kill you in his sleep, and he'd think it was a good dream,” I grumbled.

  “That's an odd way to compliment your friend,” she laughed.

  “I wasn't giving one?”

  While she studied me, I studied the nearby bottle of wine. It wasn't anywhere near as fancy or expensive as the one she had drank the other night, but it was also one of the known favorites of the women.

  Was this Yevin's idea too? Maybe he was a...

  Wait.

  Yevin?

  “You said Tiana?” I asked.

  “Huh? Yeah. She was so sweet. Her and Yevin helped me,” she said.

  Cold understanding dawned on me, and I felt like an idiot. That was why I couldn't remember a cook.

  She wasn't a cook.

  It was Yevin's apprentice.

  That jerk introduced her to this woman before me? Properly?

  I seriously needed to sit down and rethink my chain of command...

  “I don't know the name of these things, but I love them,” she said as she stuffed her face with something.

  Glancing to the small bowl of fruit, I felt my eye twitch at the sight of Sweet-Nectar.

  “And how exactly do you even know what those taste like?” I asked.

  “Sarley got us some last night,” she said happily.

  Of course she did.

  I dropped my knife and fork, feeling completely defeated and lost. My appetite was both gone, and my hope had been devoured completely.

  “What's wrong?” she asked, seeing my actions.

  “You've poisoned my people, and it's made me sick,” I said.

  She laughed a little, as if it was anything to laugh about. “Poison? How so?”

  I have no idea. It made no sense, but it was the only explanation.

  Gesturing mindlessly, I simply sat back and watched her eat. Although she seemed a little concerned over my lack of eating, she by no means slowed her own.

  “Do you not like it? I had asked them to get stuff you like,” she said.

  “I actually do. I particularly like those fruits,” I said, pointing to the bowl that was already half empty.

  “Oh... well those are mine,” she said, pulling the bowl closer to her.

  “Are they now?”

  “Well I asked for those...”

  “And I bought them. Or rather the tree they grow from,” I said.

  With that being said, I decided I was indeed a little hungry. Hungry for the food she liked the most. Or rather, the food she wanted to eat at this moment.

  Reaching over, I slid my hand in-between hers as she tried to block me. Easily picking out the largest piece, I proudly pulled it back and showed it off to her.

  Plopping it into my mouth, I barely noticed its sweet taste, and instead noticed the way she glared at me.

  “If you have the tree, then you should share. You get to eat them all the time then,” she argued.

  “Not my fault you don't have a tree,” I said with a shrug.

  “A good husband would give it to me. As a gift,” she then said.

  “The whole tree...?” I asked, shocked by her.

  “Yeah? What else would you give?”

  “Most women would just ask for the fruit, or what's left in the bowl... least in this situation,” I said with a point to said bowl.

  “Then they're dumb. Especially since you probably have more than one tree anyway.”

  I flinched at that, and wished I did indeed have another.

  “What? You don't?” she asked in surprise.

  “No... I had three, but only one lived. The other two withered. It was tragic,” I groaned, hating the memory.

  “Oh... Indeed. That is tragic. I'm sorry,” she said, taking another bite of the fruit.

  Rubbing my eyes again, more so thanks to the annoying woman than the painful memory, I was surprised to open them and see a piece of fruit.

  Being extended across the table, she was offering what looked to be one of the last pieces to me. And doing so with a rather stern face.

  “You really don't want to share it do you?” I asked.

  “No. I don't. I've never eaten anything like it, and might not ever get to again,” she honestly said.

  For a brief moment, I studied her, and then waved her off. “You can have it,” I said.

  A brief, but happy, smile showcased itself on her face before she went ahead and ate it.

  She didn't even think twice about it...

  The young woman swayed a little as she chewed the fruit, and I recognized it from the last night when she had been enjoying my most expensive spirit.

  So it hadn't been the alcohol, but simply her mannerisms. Something she did when she was in bliss, maybe?

  I didn't smell any alcohol on her breath, or in the room, and the only bottle of it... at least that was accessible by her, was still firmly sealed and on the table.

  Taking that into account, I realized that she had indeed waited to eat... for me.

  She had empty plates before her, and empty plates on my side when I had entered. Then she filled them.

  Was it just gentle courtesy, or was it her culture that was engrained into her, I wonder?

  “These are good too,” she then said as she took a bite out of the fish.

  “So I've heard,” I said.

  Reaching over, I grabbed the bottle of wine and readied it. I poured her a small glass first, then myself.

  Staring at me as I filled the glasses, she seemed unsure as I even went so far as to reach over and place her glass right next to her. So she wouldn't have to reach over the table, and near the candle.

  “Thought you didn't want me to drink?” she asked.

  “Heard that?” I asked.

  “Sarley told me.”

  “You can give it back if you want,” I said.

  “No way,” she quickly said and took a small drink.

  As she did so, I watched her face as she studied the taste... and I enjoyed watching her decide if she liked it or not.

  “Not as good as the other one, but it's real tasty. Why does it taste so...” she stopped speaking to take another drink.

  “This one's made from fruit. It's more... fruity,” I said, and hated how silly that sounded. That made no sense.

  “From fruit? Like this stuff?” she asked as she pointed to the nearby bowl.

  “Kind of. Not from that particular one though, one tree doesn't make enough for that,” I said.

  “Ah... that's too bad. I bet it would have tasted amazing,” she said as she took another sip.

  “Yea... it would have,” I agreed.

  A few minutes passed as she ate. She ate quickly, almost to the point where in some circles she would have been seen as uncultured... but I knew it wasn't because she had no manners.

  She ate fast, because she really was hungry. And to top it all off, was enjoying what she was eating.

  Right now, at this moment, the young woman in front of me was both happy to be alive... and excited for more.

  Although there was a full plate of food before me, I only ate sparingly. A part of me wanted to eat more... but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I was more interested in watching her satiate herself, than my own hunger.

  “What's your name by the way?” I asked her.

  A piece of meat that just got put into her mouth only got one full second of chewing before she stopped.

  “Huh?” she mumbled with food in her mouth.

  I waved at h
er to finish, and she quickly did. Wiping her mouth off with a napkin she, I watched as she then glared at me. “You forgot my name?” she asked.

  The way she asked it told me she wasn't just hurt... she was annoyed.

  I had interrupted her for such a stupid reason? Her annoyance at it was written all over her face.

  “Telleya,” I said.

  She blinked, somewhat surprised. “Oh. You didn't. Then why ask?” she asked as she went back to cutting more meat.

  “Don't you have more? To your name? Or is that it?” I asked.

  “More? You mean Derri?”

  I shook my head and wondered if maybe to her people, last or extra names were just whatever their Houses were.

  “So you're Telleya Derri,” I said.

  She nodded as she took another bite.

  Expecting her to keep on eating, I was surprised when she decided to put her utensils down and focus on me instead.

  “And you're...?”

  “Noth. Just Noth. Noth of the Front-Line, if you want to get technical,” I said.

  “So you're like that too? Why ask then?” she asked.

  “Not everyone is like us. There are many people here who have very long and technical names. Ask Yevin his full name one day, you'll see what I mean,” I said.

  If he'd even tell you.

  She smiled, happily amused. “Speaking of names... did you choose the name of your Line yourself?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Why the Front-Line then?” she asked.

  “What's wrong with it?”

  “Well... Nothing I guess. I just don't get it. I've heard the other Lines are called differently. Like the one that frequented us was called Tempest,” she reasoned.

  “Tempest does sound like a cool name,” I agreed.

  “So why Front? Front what?”

  I shook my head. “That's just it. It is the Front. The front Line. It doesn't mean anything else,” I said.

  She frowned, and I could tell she was disappointed.

  “Yep, sorry,” I said.

  “Can you rename it?”

  I coughed, and nearly had to take a drink. “The Line? Heavens no. Impossible.”

  “That's too bad,” she said, and took a drink herself.

  “Bad,” I grumbled.

  “I'd have named it something neat. Like Sandster, or the Sand of the Line... Line in the Sand?” she said, amusing herself.