Sheyra smiled, lifting the glass to her lips. She was surprised; the ale was cold and smooth. “It takes more than five sailors to worry me. Besides, I’m waiting for someone.”
He nodded. For a long time, he inspected his work on the glass, then slowly set it down.
“Anyone form 'round here? I’ve lived here fer several years now.”
Unwilling to give up too much information Sheyra merely shrugged. “I’d rather wait, if you don’t mind.” She took another drink.
Just then, four more ugly men entered the bar.
“A round of the best!” one of them shouted to the barman as they took residence at an empty table.
“Bring us food!” shouted another, which was met by cheers from his mates.
The barman looked displeased by this new group. He rang a small bell under the bar twice before pouring four pints and carrying them to the table. Sheyra observed them from the corner of her eye, pretending to watch the screen. The group was jubilant, but their attitude was irritating to the previous group. Sheyra was starting to think this might not be the right place after all.
A young girl of about fourteen years appeared from behind the curtain, carrying a tray with four steaming bowls of stew. She made her way cautiously across the tile floor, the tray threatening to tip with every step. Sheyra was reminded of herself and smiled sadly.
“Food! Food! Food!” The men began to chant, banging their fists on the table. Ale sloshed from their glasses.
The girl's face twisted anxiously as she drew closer. The longer Sheyra watched her the more the scene changed. The girl's dress was faded and stained. She wasn't wearing shoes. Her hair was stringy and her skin ashen. Dark circles shadowed her brown eyes.
Unable to balance the tray and serve the food, the men reached over to grab the bowls themselves as she walked around the table. One of the men reached out to tug at the hem of her dress.
“Keep yer hand off my girl!” the barman growled, and the men sat back in their seats, their boisterous behavior silenced. The girl scurried back to the safety of the kitchen.
Sheyra glanced at the barman, who was staring stone faced at the table. He looked at her, then leaned forward and said in a low voice, “Ever since she started showin’ signs o'womanhood, the sailors started lookin' her over.”
Sheyra frowned. He was big, but his girth was the effect of being tall and broad. He was gaunt and also appeared unwell. One man was enough to silence them when they were sober, but a small army of angry drunkards was something else. How long would it be before he couldn't protect the girl or himself?
“This is not good, barman,” Sheyra said, keeping her voice low.
“I know,” he said, his eyes distant. “I'd go into the kitchen and bring the tray myself, but if I leave post the men start fights, steal ale, and break up all our good glasses.”
“There is no need to explain,” she said, knowing full well what was expected of an innkeeper’s daughter.
“Things were better before the plague. It took my wife and our two older girls. Lineya almost died as well. Thankfully the vaccine,” his voice trembled, nodding toward the kitchen. “I spent every last credit I had on medicine, but it wasn't enough. I had t'get a loan. We're working here t'pay it off.”
Sheyra nodded. “I lost my father, two weeks before they announced the vaccine was found,” she said. “Then I lost our tavern only a few days ago.”
She wouldn't elaborate and she didn't have to. It didn't matter that her home was destroyed rather than lost to debt. The shared experience pressed his willingness to talk.
“I’m starting t'be afraid for my little girl. The man who owns the place has been making mention that Lineya could earn more money if she would...” he paused, swallowing hard. His face darkened as he glanced at the filthy patrons. “I won’t allow it, but I’m terrified that it won’t matter what I think for much longer.”
Sheyra understood. The girl was in no condition to run away, and what consolation would that be for her father? A girl on the streets was worse off than one working in a tavern. With the winter quickly turning harsh, Lineya could easily be dead in a single night.
The barman changed the subject, picking up another glass to clean. “I’ve never seen anyone in here who would resemble a friend of yours.”
Sheyra thought for a minute and decided to take a risk, “Maybe this friend doesn't know I'm looking for them.”
She turned her pint in her hands, keeping her eyes locked on the swirling liquid. He worked silently, mulling over her statement. Sheyra finished her ale, watching the nobility parading across the screen in their finery. Anger swelled within her, and she looked away.
Very gently, the barman placed the glass he was holding onto the bar. “Do you have a place t'stay?” He asked.
She shrugged, believing she knew what he was going to ask.
“Maybe you could help me out while you wait around.”
He looked around, lowering his voice. The drunks were cracking jokes about the noble ladies and laughing loudly. They weren't paying attention to the barman.
“I can't pay you,” he said. “It wouldn't be official. But you could stay with us in the kitchen and take Lineya's place.” Desperation filled his dark eyes. “And,” his voice quavered, “When you find what you're looking for you take us with you.”
Sheyra looked over her shoulder at the rowdy men. Her father had always protected her, teaching her to be strong. His advantage came from owning the tavern. The helplessness that the barman felt was clearly written across his face. She wouldn't allow herself to be defiled, but she couldn't allow a child to suffer the same fate.
“It's a deal,” Sheyra said.
“My name's Lorsen Nei'Roth,” he said.
“Sheyra Gei'Dessa,” she shook his proffered hand, his grip was firm as relief washed over him. “Here,” she handed him her ID, “for the ale.”
He ran the card and she walked back to the kitchen. Lineya was sitting in a wooden chair near the stove. The back door was worse than the front, hanging crooked on its hinges, allowing in the cold air. The girl raised her tired eyes. Sheyra wondered how long ago she had been given the vaccine for the plague. Was it possible for her to become sick again?
“Go and lay down,” Sheyra said gently. “I'm going to serve the food now.”
Lineya didn't hesitate, hurrying over to a low cot against the wall, she lay on her side and pulled a thin blanket around her frail form. Sheyra peered into the cooking pot and the greasy brown stew bubbling at the bottom. She didn't care. It was the first step and that was all she needed.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The sun was setting when Gleyth's house slaves came in to help her dress. Her gown was made of black satin lined with silver piping, expertly tailored for a perfect fit. Her slaves twisted her long black hair atop her head; adorning the dark strands with silver combs set with pearls and diamonds. At her neck they laid a magnificent diamond necklace passed down from the days when Ka Oren first raised the clan of Ka onto the throne. In the mirror her reflection was perfection.
Gleyth saw nothing but the chains of her opulent prison.
Her slaves stepped aside, bowing as she exited the chamber. Outside, she found a formal escort; four Imperial guards in their navy blue dress uniforms with silver buttons on the coats. The Enforcers flanked her on all sides. Gleyth kept her head bowed as they traveled down through the Tower, feeling as if they were leading her to her doom rather than a party.
Just outside the ballroom they paused to wait for the formal announcement. Two male slaves waited patiently for their cue, until at last they swung the doors opened. Ky Gleyth Kei’Oren stepped through to the thunder of applause. Playing her role, she nodded and waved to the guests with a smile. The nobles crowded close in their finery. Slaves moved among them with trays of hors d'oeuvres and glasses of champagne. The orchestra played a cheerful tune in time to her gait. Her father and mother stood at the far end of the room on a raised dais with the head table behin
d them. She stepped up to stand between them.
The music fell silent.
All eyes turned to Ka Harn as he began to speak, “It is with gratitude that We thank you all for attending this glorious occasion. Ky Gleyth is one of the greatest joys in Our life. We have watched her flower from an infant into a fine woman. On this night, that of her twentieth turning, all of us shall celebrate the end of her childhood and the beginning of her womanhood. At the conclusion of the evening, we shall announce her engagement.”
The crowd applauded. Gleyth's eyes swept across the faces of the young men in the crowd. She clasped her hands before her to keep herself from fidgeting.
“Let the festivities begin!” Ka Harn raised his arms, signaling the orchestra to resume.
Gleyth gratefully took her seat, her knees weak from anxiety. Slaves came out from the kitchens carrying the first course. Harn took his usual place at the center of the long table. Xander was at his right, his face emotionless. She was surprised he was in attendance. At least he was behaving. Len sat at the end of the table looking small and confused. To the left Ky Thella sat beside her husband, followed by Gleyth and her sisters Kerra and Tana.
“Isn't this exciting?” Kerra asked with a giggle.
Gleyth merely smiled. Her sisters were much more deserving of such attention. They actually wanted to be part of the system, blind to the reality it represented.
A bowl of clear yellow broth garnished with fresh herbs was set before her. She dipped her spoon into the liquid but merely stirred it instead of taking a taste. Her disinterest in the soup foretold her attitude for the remainder of the meal. As with any state dinner there were four courses; soup, vegetable, meat, and dessert. None of it was appetizing. The meat was beef, which only made her wonder how well the people in the city were eating that evening. At the last the dessert was a vanilla cake with cherry frosting.
“Perhaps you'll feel better if you were moving,” Thella offered, smiling sympathetically. “I didn't feel much like eating at my celebration either.” She reached over and squeezed her daughter's hand, reminding Gleyth that she wasn't alone.
The music changed and the dancing began. The first to offer his arm was Hei Laren, he bowed low before leading the princess out onto the dance floor. Producing her practiced smile, Gleyth was whirled around the floor. After the first turn others began to join them. She was grateful when her next companion was her cousin Drody.
“Are you excited for the big announcement?” He asked as they swayed and spun.
“Excited isn't the right word,” she admitted without giving away too much.
“Do you have any idea who the lucky man will be?”
Gleyth shook her head, “No, do you?” For a moment she was hopeful.
“No,” he grinned mischievously, “I have a bet with Yin it will be someone nearby, though. Your father couldn't let you get out of his sight.”
She wasn't sure how she felt about her future being used in a wager, but she hoped he was right. The music changed and she turned to the next outstretched arm. Her eyes widened when she discovered it did not belong to a nobleman.
“You,” she breathed, her heart skipped and her smile faded.
Kevie smiled, his green eyes sparkled with warmth. “It’s all right. Garinsith gave us the evening off, and we have been invited as guests by Ka Harn himself.” He spun her around, catching her at the waste as she returned. “As a guest I’m allowed one dance with the most beautiful woman in the Empire, am I not?”
She felt a blush climb up her neck and into her cheeks. “I don't know, she might be around here somewhere,” Gleyth replied coldly.
Kevie laughed at her jest. She didn't want to feel flattered by this man. He was dangerous.
Why did she feel safe when he was near?
To her surprise, he was an elegant dancer. As they moved in unison across the floor, his gaze pulled her in and her anxiety lifted. Everything around them faded back. They were alone in a sea of faces. The music changed and he released her, bowing low before he stepped back into the crowd.
Before she could move to follow him, Gleyth was swept away by another young man. Kevie vanished from sight as if he hadn't been there at all. After two more songs she was tired. She bowed out to return to her seat. Her eyes scanned the room but he was nowhere to be seen.
Taking the cue from her inactivity, Ka Harn stood in front of the table once more. The music stopped abruptly and everyone paused. He held out his hand, an invitation for her to join him at his side.
“Now, We shall formally announce the engagement of Ky Gleyth Kei'Oren,” an excited rush of whispering washed through the crowd. Harn waited for it to stop. “Fei Arentey Fei’Escareyn,” he said, nodding in the young man's direction.
Arentey stood near the edge of the dais, which was clue enough for Gleyth to understand the truth; he had known. Taking his place beside her he took her by the hand, raising it triumphantly. He'd won his prize. The crowd cheered.
She knew little of Arentey as an adult but remembered him as a child. Like many of the young boys born into power he was somewhat pompous, but she could think of nothing to label him a bad person. His father was head of state at Rau’Tesche-Enra on Renenook. The pairing made sense, as it was nearer her station than the nobles who lived within the Ekaran boarder.
Gleyth couldn't help but take notice that Drody was shaking his head while Yin laughed beside him. He lost his bet. Despite that, she felt her father was concerned for her safety, which would be another reason to join her to the Fa. The Renenoors people had been part of the Empire for a long time. There had not been a threat of war there since before the Ka had taken the throne. With rumors of rebellion upon Ekaran soil, he was removing his daughter from danger.
The newly engaged couple was obligated to dance. The floor remained empty as Arentey lead Gleyth around the room. It was her first opportunity to learn something of him before the wedding.
“Did they tell you beforehand?” she was curious if he would admit the truth.
“I've known for almost a year,” he laughed, his dual colored eyes sparkling with pride.
She forced herself to keep smiling but the revelation made her angry. The dance ended and she curtsied to him.
“I apologize. I'm not feeling well,” she said. “I'm going to get some air.”
“It is hot in here. Do you want me to accompany you?” He offered kindly.
She shook her head. “No, thank you, I just need a moment.”
Turning, she hurried back toward the doors. It felt as if her dress was constricting, the necklace around her neck began to strangle her. In the solitude of the corridor she rubbed at her neck, forcing herself to breathe. She wanted to tear herself free and run screaming.
There was nowhere to go.
“Is it possible that the princess is displeased with her future husband?” Kevie's voice said from behind her.
Gleyth jumped, spinning around. Her eyes were welling with angry tears.
“Would you please stop sneaking up on me,” she commanded.
“I apologize,” Kevie bowed. “I am trained in the art of stealth.”
She watched him as he watched her. His expression was always difficult to read. She couldn't decide if he was being kind or patronizing.
“I don’t feel well,” she said at last.
“I can see that,” he nodded. “I understand.”
She scoffed at his statement. “How could you possibly understand?”
“You are a woman in an environment that treats women little better than their slaves. For some it is easy to play the part and live day to day, but not for you. You are intelligent and inquisitive. You want to use the power that is just beyond your grasp, but you are denied and overlooked.” He moved closer to her as he spoke. “You have lived your life as the High Princess, an ornament in a Tower shaped jewel box.”
He was standing close enough that she could have wrapped her arms around him, but they did not touch. She stared up at him, confused an
d intrigued at the same time. Her heart raced even as her mind protested.
“How do you know?” Her voice trembled.
“I come from a world very different than yours, Gleyth. The Master Keeper knows that ignorance breeds discontent, and we are not denied the right of education. I was not raised to think as your people do. Garinsith prizes intelligence and power in both males and females. How do you think Commander Jilorn attained her post? It was not by offering her body to him, I assure you.”
Gleyth stared into his eyes, longing to see this world he described. It was somewhere out there, beyond the steel and glass of Empire Tower.
“You don’t need to fear me, Gleyth. Know that my master understands you have a gift, and he asked me to watch over you.”
She blinked, “Petor Garinsith ordered you to watch me?” She breathed. It suddenly made sense.
“Yes, but that's not the only reason. I wanted to be the one,” he said, a soft smile playing at his lips.
“Why?”
“When I first saw you in the corridor I knew you were special,” Kevie's fingers softly brushed the back of her hand, “and I wanted to keep you safe.”
“Safe from what?” She was already safe.
“Many things are happening in the world, Gleyth, and I don't want you to be lost in them,” his explanation clarified nothing, but she believed him.
Kevie suddenly raised his head and took a step back. The doors opened and her youngest sister emerged with a gaggle of other girls in tow. They were laughing and took no notice of Gleyth and her companion. When they were gone Kevie sighed, relieved. Could it be that he truly felt more for her than the duty placed upon him by his master?
“Good night, princess,” he bowed before he turned and walked away.
Gleyth watched him go, folding her hands before her. She wasn't sure how to feel. Bound to one man but desired by another, and both of them strangers. Unwilling to return to the party, Gleyth decided instead to hide in her rooms. Perhaps tomorrow she would find clarity in the uncertainty she was presented.
* * *
The dinner was ended. As the music began for dancing, Tyn took the opportunity to extract himself from the party. It was a simple affair. The Ekarans were a closed minded people, caring little for outsiders. Tyn, with his platinum blond hair and pale skin, was clearly not a native and by no means nobility. He wasn’t worth a second glance. If anyone took notice of him slipping out the door they likely thought he was merely a slave on an errand. They might even be happy to think he would not sully their evening with his presence.
Darkness Falling: Soldiers and Slaves Page 13