by Katie Roman
Fearless as the Dawn
By Katie Roman
Copyright 2018 by Katie Roman
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Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.
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Cover Artist: Fantasy Book Designs
Editor: Stacy Sanford
Printed in the United States of America
To Nate, my life is better because I get to do it with you
Part I
Lonely as the Dusk
Chapter One
Aleka moved her bow across the violin strings as though the instrument was an extension of herself. The violin came alive under her gentle guidance. Each note she played filled the sitting room with an air of levity, making even the dourest of ladies smile and sway to the music. Aleka closed her eyes to savor the moment; for once, she had everyone’s attention. For once, she was more than a wind-up music box stuffed into the corner, only there to provide background noise to their conversations. Aleka hit the last note and made a small curtesy.
“My word,” a pale, wrinkled woman said, producing her fan. “Where have you been hiding this gem, Lilah?”
The lady of the house, Lady Lilah Ghilian, smiled at Aleka and winked. “She’s the daughter of our cook,” she explained.
A younger woman, heavy with child, looked Aleka over, raising an eyebrow imperiously. “Where did she learn to play like that?” Aleka didn’t like the curl of her lip or the look on her face that made it look like she was sucking on a lemon.
Lady Ghilian turned in her chair to look at the younger woman. “Her cousin on the Nareroc Islands.” It was short, to the point, but left out the whole truth.
If Lady Ghilian were to say Aleka learned to play in a tavern, it would tarnish the reputation of the household. Even servants were expected to exude some level of good upbringing. Learning to play in a room filled with drunks and gamblers didn’t exactly speak to good rearing.
“Well, Miss,” the older woman with the fan said. “Your cousin is very talented, indeed. How old are you?”
“Seventeen, my lady.”
“You should be proud. You are already an accomplished violinist despite your age,” she continued. As she fanned herself, the scent of lavender wafted toward Aleka. She put her fan down long enough to offer polite applause, signaling to the other gathered ladies to do the same. Aleka curtsied once more.
“And what was that last song you played for us?” the older woman asked.
“The Ballad of Kunegunda.” The woman stared at her, continuing to fan herself lazily, clearly waiting for an elaboration. “Kunegunda of the clan Lansa, was a queen on Nareroc before Cesernan and Sera settled on the islands. She was a great warrior.”
“And a butcher,” the pregnant woman sneered. “I know my history. Kunegunda, also called the Savage Queen, who slaughtered good Cesernan knights when they landed.”
Aleka bared her teeth momentarily before forcing her scowl into a cold smile. “They landed to take her kingdom. She is famous on the islands for her bravery.”
“Infamous is more like it,” the young woman snapped.
“She’s quite revered on the islands,” Aleka said, feeling hot to hear her island home’s most beloved queen called a savage. “A noble queen, beloved and honored for her bravery.”
“A barbarian ‘queen’ who slaughtered countless innocents. That’s hardly noble,” the pregnant woman sniffed.
Aleka tightened her grip on the violin and bow, wanting nothing more than to strike the woman. Just then, Lady Ghilian cleared her throat. Like a trained dog, Aleka’s temper cooled against the disapproving sounds of Lady Ghilian.
“That will be all for now, Aleka,” Lady Ghilian said. “Please tell Sophie to bring in the tea.”
“Yes, my lady.” And just like that, Aleka found herself relegated to the background once again.
She packed up her violin, carefully wrapping it with the velvet cloth and tucking it gently into its wooden case. The fine ladies chattered away like she didn’t exist, but Aleka was used to the treatment. Once the novelty of her playing wore off, she became just another faceless servant. She tried not to let it wound her pride; after all, this was her lot in life, but she still felt an itch that worked its way up through the soles of her house slippers to the top of her head. It was a need to cry out, to sing, to make them see her.
The itch passed and Aleka exited through the servant’s door. She carried her violin close to her chest, hugging it as she moved through the narrow hall. Unlike the main hall, the servants’ hall went unadorned. The cold stone bricks offered no cheery tapestries or pennants. Their hard, gray faces were only accented by the carefully spaced candelabras that cast shadows down the hall.
Aleka took the servants’ stair down to the kitchen and found it in a flurry of activity. Her mother stood at a center table kneading dough, while other household servants polished the silver, prepared the tea and sandwiches, or mended clothing. No one spared a look for Aleka as she walked in.
“Sophie,” she said to a willowy woman around her own age.
Sophie’s ivory skin was dotted with little brown and red freckles, and her dull, red hair was pulled into a bun. She wore the same drab, gray dress all the servant women wore. “Yes?” she asked. She had the look of a hunted animal, harried to the point of exhaustion.
“Lady Ghilian would like the tea now.”
Sophie gave Aleka a curt nod and began loading a tray with cups and a porcelain teapot. “I hope those old biddies enjoyed your performance,” she said while she worked.
“You’ll not speak of your betters like that,” Aleka’s mother scolded, not looking up from her dough.
“Pardon me. I hope those fine ladies enjoyed your performance,” Sophie tried again with a mischievous grin.
“Who is not moved by my exquisite music?” Aleka clutched her case to her chest. “I have the ability to make ladies’ hearts go all aflutter, and reduce even the stoutest of men to tears. Even old biddies find their icy hearts melted. Tell me, my dear Sophie, that I have moved you as well!”
Aleka’s mother reached out a doughy hand and knocked Aleka against the back of her head. “Stop flirting with Sophie! She has work to do.”
There were a few chuckles from the assembled servants, but Sophie just shook her head and lifted her tray. “Maybe just let your violin talk for you, Aleka.” She winked and headed out of the kitchen.
Aleka pulled up a stool to sit by her mother. No one paid her any heed. Even her mother no longer cared if she was present.
Halia Akoni was a short woman with a rail thin body. She kept her thick black hair tied up in a bun at all times, except for sleep and wash day. Her skin was a russet color and she had deep brown eyes. Her nose was large, with a bump on the bridge, and her lips were full. Her hands were large and strong.
In many aspects, Aleka looked like her mother. They shared the same deep eyes, dark skin, and thick black hair; although Aleka favored braids to show hers off. People commented that they had the same bright smile and resonating laugh. They had the same full and pouty lips, but Alek
a’s nose was small, more like her grandmother’s, or so her mother said. Her hands were smaller, with long, slender fingers. She stood taller than her mother and was curvy, with wide hips.
Aleka’s mother encouraged her to learn violin so she could entertain lords and ladies rather than toil away in a kitchen her whole life. Not that Aleka needed much encouragement. As soon as she could hold a bow, she started playing. It gave her immense joy to bring music into the world.
Aleka watched her mother set the dough aside and wipe her hands on her apron. Halia wore a thick leather bracelet with a sword going through a heart stitched into it. It was the sigil of Lady Ghilian’s husband, the count of Greyhome, and Aleka hated it. It just showed the world that Halia was indebted to Lord and Lady Ghilian of Greyhome. Halia claimed she barely even noticed it, but Aleka was always aware of the bracelet indentured servants were required to wear.
“Do you need something, dear?” Halia asked, switching into her native tongue of Narerocish so none of the kitchen staff could eavesdrop. Aleka shook her head. “Then perhaps you should practice for dinner? The Admiral is to be here for dinner, or so I’ve been told.”
Aleka forced a smile. Admiral Edward Ghilian was the pride and joy of the royal navy and the pride and joy of the Greyhome house. Even so, Aleka found him rather odious at the best of times.
“How delightful,” Aleka said, nearly spitting the words out.
Halia turned to her daughter with a pinched expression. Aleka could see the muscles in her jaw tighten ever so slightly. Around them, the other Greyhome servants continued their work and the silence between mother and daughter was accented with the clinking of dishes, whisking of eggs, sweeping of floors, and the occasional laugh floating over the quiet conversations. Aleka finally turned away from her mother, finding her penetrating gaze too much to bear.
Halia took a firm hold of Aleka’s chin and turned her face back. “He has done much for us. Admiral Ghilian helped secure my indentureship here, and without him you wouldn’t be here, either.”
Aleka pulled away, stepping from her mother’s reach. “No one asked him to pay to move us from Nareroc. My playing would have eventually bought us passage from the islands.”
Halia turned back to her bread, laying a towel over it to allow it to rise in peace. She began cleaning up the excess flour as she spoke. “You want to travel and make coin playing? Then you must take opportunities when they come to you. Besides, I thought you liked his parents? Lord and Lady Ghilian have been good to us. They’ve allowed you to study violin all these years.”
Aleka sighed and put her head on her mother’s shoulder. “I like Lady Ghilian,” she said. “And Lord Ghilian is, well, he’s just the master of the house. But the Admiral is terrible. His goal in life seems to be to criticize you on his visits, and you let him. Aside from ensuring our passage and years of servitude to House Greyhome, what has he done to deserve your respect? Certainly, you cannot like how he insults you.”
Halia reached a calloused hand up and rubbed Aleka’s cheek. The remains of the dough left a streak down her face. Aleka laughed, lifting her head up. Halia smiled and tweaked Aleka’s nose. The other servants giggled to themselves, enjoying the spectacle of mother and daughter having a playful argument.
“We are here to serve our betters, dear one. If I am criticized, it is because fault has been found in my work. We must strive to be better.”
Aleka’s heart fluttered and heat flashed through her body. How it broke her heart to think of her mother resigned to this life of servitude. On the Nareroc Islands, she had served as cook at a local tavern. While the coin coming in wasn’t always enough, at least no one dared speak down to Halia Akoni there.
Aleka put her hands on her mother’s shoulders. “One day soon, I’ll earn enough playing to buy your contract and we’ll find you a cook’s position in Glenbard, where no one would dare talk badly about your dishes.”
Halia gave a great belly laugh. The sound drew more attention to them. “My little Aleka,” Halia said, switching back to the Common tongue so all could hear, “is going to turn the world on its head. You will all see; she’ll be a famous violinist, playing for kings and queens across the world.”
The other servants snickered, thinking this was only a jest of Halia’s. But Aleka swelled with pride. Halia stood on her toes and pecked Aleka’s cheek. “You’ll see, dear one. But you won’t be traveling the world if you don’t impress the guests tonight.” She pointed to Aleka’s violin case on the stool beside them. “Practice.”
Aleka returned the peck on her mother’s cheek, and with violin in hand, left to practice in the room she shared with her mother.
~*~*~
When Lady Ghilian threw large dinner parties, she always sent down an old dress of her daughter’s. She hated to see Aleka appear to entertain her more prosperous guests in her usual gray servant’s clothes. And tonight, her guests were more prosperous than usual.
As a city magistrate, Lord Oliver Ghilian often had fine guests in his home. Generally, they consisted of visiting knights or nobles who took respite from the King’s court, but tonight the other four magistrates were joining them with their wives and children, along with fourteen nobles who were in the city of Glenbard. Everyone wanted to see the Admiral.
Aleka could understand the fascination with Admiral Edward Ghilian. He was a handsome man, just past his fortieth birthday, with deep brown hair that grayed at the temples. His skin was tanned by the sun, and though he had crow’s feet and hard lines about his mouth, the aging process was offset by his piercing blue eyes. When he smiled, he showed perfect, even teeth and made ladies swoon. He had recently married, but that didn’t deter women from batting their eyes and hiding smiles behind their fans.
From her corner, Aleka watched with amusement. The Admiral was polite and congenial with his parents’ guests, but the moment they left, he would lay into one of the footmen for some imagined insult. Or he would storm to the kitchen to berate her mother on cold and salty food. Or whatever slight he concocted to remind the servants he was the master.
Aleka played her violin softly as the guests enjoyed after dinner drinks and chatter. Unlike the afternoon’s performance that was intended to showcase her talents, tonight she was supposed to blend into the scenery; her music providing only background noise. Before the evening began, Lady Ghilian instructed her to play soft ballads so as not to disturb anyone’s conversation. Aleka had played the “Ballad of Kunegunda” three times already, just because the young pregnant woman was back. No one even noticed.
After playing well over an hour, Aleka completed a piece and put her violin down at her sides to give her arms a rest. Lady Ghilian walked across the room in her fine velvet gown. She moved like a whisper and even smiled at Aleka as she drew near.
“Very nice, my dear,” she complimented. She was the first person to engage Aleka the whole evening. When Lady Ghilian touched Aleka’s arm, she managed a real smile for the lady of the house. Like her own mother, Lady Ghilian encouraged her violin playing. “Could you play a ronde next? Some of the guests have expressed an interest in dancing.”
“Yes, my lady, of course.”
Lady Ghilian touched her face briefly, giving her cheek a gentle pat as she did. “Thank you, Aleka,” she said kindly, and moved off with a smile. She clapped her hands and called for everyone interested in dancing to form a circle.
Aleka lifted her violin and began the ronde. It was a livelier tune than the ballads and hymns she’d been playing all night. The guests formed a circle, holding hands, and moved with the music. As Aleka played, people moved into the center of the circle to twirl about before melting back into the larger circle. She actually enjoyed watching them dance. There was something entrancing about it, like beautifully dressed leaves fluttering in the wind.
The Admiral and Lord Ghilian declined to join the dancers and instead stood near Aleka, although she couldn’t hear their conversation as she played. When the ronde ended, the dancers clapped p
olitely and Aleka curtsied. With her song done, a young lady offered to play the virginal and Aleka was granted a respite.
She knelt beside her violin case, pretending to inspect her instrument. If Lord and Admiral Ghilian thought she was eavesdropping, they would move elsewhere. These parties of Lady Ghilian always provided the best gossip to bring downstairs. If Aleka didn’t bring some tidbit back, the other servants would be disappointed in her.
“The Fearless Dawn remains the bane of my existence, Father,” the Admiral said, his tone harsh. “Victor Blackstone was trained by the Sera navy, and he’s no fool when it comes to the seas. At every turn, he escapes capture and manages to pillage hapless merchant ships. I almost had him off the coast of Uyn Struet, but he managed to slip by.”
Aleka ran a cloth over the body of her violin. The pirate ship the Fearless Dawn remained at large, and it seemed it had once again foiled the Admiral. This gossip would be worth gold downstairs. Tales of the Dawn were always welcomed. Everyone liked to hear how the roguish band of pirates had evaded capture yet again.
“You need to work with the Serish navy on Uyn Struet, Edward,” Lord Ghilian said, shaking his head. “Blackstone knows he can evade capture as long as he pits you against Sera. Certainly an admiral in their navy must feel the same frustration you do.”
“Go to those barbarians? Father, be serious,” the Admiral snorted.
Aleka looked up at the sound and both men looked down at her. “Perhaps you should play another ballad or ronde?” Lord Ghilian suggested.
Aleka felt her face grow hot under their stares. “I was just tuning,” she lied. She got to her feet and stood with her eyes facing forward, waiting for Lady Ghilian to signal her to start playing. The young woman was still playing the virginal.
“Honestly, Father,” the Admiral said, his voice coming out in an exaggerated sigh. “Does Mother really feel the need to treat the servants like dolls?”