“Don’t worry. You can hold on to me. Besides, everyone thinks Itzi are too stupid to read, and you can do that, can’t you?”
“Botlop, I... I never lied, you know...”
“I know. I saw what I wanted to see. I should have figured it out when you had so much trouble, but I just thought I wasn’t a good teacher.”
Impulsively, she kissed his cheek and whispered, “You were a good teacher. Thank you.” He frowned; his face wrinkled in disgust, but he didn’t say anything. He recoiled and grabbed the reins, then swung himself into the saddle and extended his hand to her.
She realized then that he was only fulfilling an order from his employer. He was young and peer-conscious; it was unlikely there’d be room for a friendship. It was probably fair consequence for having deceived him for so long—one more loss in a night of losses.
She saw nothing along the way. It was too dark to distinguish landmarks she’d previously seen only in daylight. Ny was a prosperous port with thriving fishing, citrus-farming, and shipping guilds. The comforting daytime hum of commerce was absent, replaced with the clopping of the horse’s hooves on cobbled streets. Crooked fingers of shadow surrounded her, adding apprehension to her grief.
The horse stopped in front of a large limestone house. Botlop dismounted, then helped her down. He rapped on the door. A plump woman, barely taller than Keedrina, answered. Silver hair drawn tight in a bun and telltale pointed ears confirmed she was Elva. Obviously forewarned of her coming, she spoke kindly to Keedrina. “There you are, poor thing. It’s right this way.” She bustled to another door fifteen paces down the road.
Keedrina followed while Botlop stayed behind. Without a word, he mounted and rode off. “Thank you. For everything,” Keedrina called to his retreating back. He waved. Keedrina sighed and shook her head.
Inside the infirmary, she watched as the Elva woman lit an oil lamp and filled a porcelain basin from an indoor hand pump. The farmgirl could only marvel at such conveniences. The Elva set the basin on a table, then she set a sea sponge and oatmeal soap nearby. She pointed to a door and mentioned it was the inhouse. Too bad Keedrina had come under such unfortunate circumstances, or it would have been pure adventure to discover all the wonders contained in a town dwelling. As it was, the niceties brought only momentary lift to her depression.
The Elva woman smiled. “I’ll leave you alone now. I know it’s hard, but try to sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day.”
“Thank you for the hospitality, milady.”
“You’re welcome. Rest well, little one.” She left and shut the door behind her.
Keedrina stared at the volume of water for a long time, then sighed. It had to be a hint about the state of her clothes. She removed her canvas tunic and muslin chemise. Carefully, she pressed them into the water. Before the water got too dirty, she remembered to wet the sea sponge and wash her face, arms, and hands. Once her body was clean, she scrubbed away at the clothes. Strange that she couldn’t find a washboard. Keedrina found a small hand brush to use instead. Since the stains were essentially fresh, most came clean.
She frowned again when she couldn’t find a wringer. How could a place with a hand pump and inhouse not have something as simple as a clothes wringer? She twisted the garments by hand as hard as she could, then shook them out. In her bloomers, it suddenly occurred to her that she had no place to hang her clothes where they could dry by morning. She hadn’t seen a tree from which to hang anything, even if she had been able to get clothed enough to venture out. Keedrina berated herself for her stupidity. She would have to stand before the duke in damp clothes. It wouldn’t be any worse than being dirty, but it would be uncomfortable. Regardless, it was too late. She opened the window and hung the wet clothes from curtain tieback hooks on the window sash.
She headed to bed. It was a straw mattress much like her own, except thicker and covered with a more finely-woven material. Unlike hers, it sat on a platform that lifted it from the floor. She bit her lip as she considered the possibility of falling out. She pushed the bed against the wall and planned to favor that side in her sleep.
With the window open to dry her clothes and wearing solely underwear, Keedrina was chilled. She lay down and covered herself with a wool blanket, then blew out the lamp. Guilt and grief overwhelmed her. She cried until her head ached. No matter how she tried to relax, her mind stubbornly replayed all the night’s horrifying events. Finally, exhaustion took over and claimed her body to a fitful sleep.
Chapter 2
The healer, Pharn Patkus, decided not to take the bodies into town to save time in the morning. He slept until dawn near the charred embers of Silla’s ruined homestead. As the first rays of the suns dusted the farmlands, he drove the wagon to a secluded area where no prying eyes could watch.
He removed the shroud from Silla and shook his head, sighing deeply. He took notes as he searched her body. Tiny blown-glass jars caught seedpods from her hair and bits of fabric embedded in dried blood. He labeled the jars with the stub of a black candle and stored them in a wooden crate.
His examination of the middle daughter’s body sickened him to the point of retching, something that hadn’t happened in twenty years. By the time he uncovered the youngest, his stomach was empty. He wept. The eyes of a child were always the same. It didn’t matter whether male or female, Itzi or Elva, the lifeless eyes said everything. They declared the loss of innocence. They cried out for justice. Woe to the filth that did this if he caught up to them.
He could lose to Disease. He and that enemy fought many times, and he defeated it more than he was defeated by it. He saw Accident far too many times as well, but he had an understanding with Accident. Accident was part of life—a momentary lapse, or as in Keedrina’s father’s case, the fault of an unreasoning animal, but Accident knew no malice. However, this was not Accident or Disease. This was Evil, a power that had preyed upon the weak to rape, steal, and destroy. He forced himself to continue despite the horror. He was determined to gather every bit of evidence he could against the Evil that had violated such docile, innocent females.
He couldn’t help but feel that fate had dealt cruelly with Silla from the day Blod was mortally injured. To a small extent, Pharn had shown her favor. He’d sold her grain for her poultry at less than what he could have received in town. He’d bought garments her family made and not squabbled at the asking prices. He’d tried not to make any overt gesture that would have exposed him as a benefactor.
Silla was too proud to have accepted charity and of course, her lot was nothing strange among Itzi. Itzi mating-compacts usually dissolved when each had a child of his or her own gender, so many Itzi females lived without males. He couldn’t be sure, but it seemed that Silla and Blod might have stayed together even if Silla had borne a son. The Itzi were a practical people and even those who weren’t in love might share a home for the sake of convenience.
But Blod had fallen in the path of a koopchuk’s plowshare. The wounds were too deep; infection slowly drained his life. Silla insisted that Pharn come see Blod twice a day, even after Pharn assured her it was hopeless. If Silla didn’t have feelings for Blod, why would she have done that?
Pharn had thought it benevolent to ask for Keedrina in payment for the services rendered to Blod. It would have reduced the number of mouths Silla had to feed. He had no unseemly intentions toward the ten-year-old girl who even then could pass as Elva. Her hair was so dark that only bright light and careful scrutiny proved it brown rather than black. Inconclusive blue eyes and unusually tall stature furthered the illusion. Only round ears gave her away.
A child slave, especially an Itzi female, was not nearly as valuable as the farmland Silla insisted he take instead. Pharn persuaded her to keep the henhouse and paid her extra for the barn and animals she couldn’t sustain without the field. That had been six years ago.
After going over the three bodies meticulously, Pharn wrapped them up and drove the wagon to the spot where Blod was buried, under a large oak tree
. Silla had said it was Blod’s favorite place to rest. The stream was nearby so he could get a cool drink and sit in the shade overlooking his fields. Since oak roots were poisonous to crops, Pharn had had very little argument to allowing Silla to bury Blod there. Now he was compelled to give the rest of Blod’s family, save Keedrina, similar graves.
He was not an undertaker. This was a favor to Keedrina and a favor to himself. He did not have the back for so much digging, but dig he did. The three shrouded bundles were lowered into the earth. He knew the Itzi didn’t practice liturgy with their dead, but he couldn’t bring himself to show any less than proper Elva respect for females taken so violently. He bowed his head, addressed the Nymphs that Silla mentioned in her dying breaths, and committed the bodies to their care. Then he said a reverent goodbye and shoveled the dirt back over the graves. It was the tenth hour when he made it home and cleaned himself up.
Chapter 3
The healer didn’t own a rooster and no one came to wake the weary orphan. The lighthouse bells were slightly louder here than on her farm, but Keedrina had tuned them out after the first interruption of sleep. With such emotional exhaustion to overcome, she slept well into late morning. Calla and Cana cast their heat upon her cheeks and woke her. It took a few moments to remember where she was. Keedrina groaned as reality hit her again. For a good while, she just lay there, debating whether she should bother getting up or whether she cared about living at all. Dark thoughts were pressed aside when nature called.
She rolled out of bed and trudged into the inhouse. Her eyes brightened at the prospect of using a watercloset. She allowed herself a small smile as she lowered her bloomers to straddle the strange bowl. The seat wasn’t nearly as cold as she was used to. The tinkling sound brought a light giggle to her lips. She chided herself for the levity enjoyed over the sinking feeling in her stomach. Once she finished and replaced her bloomers, it took her a moment to discover the mechanism for disposal of the waste. She pulled the cord on the wall tank, then stepped back and gasped. Amazing that they used so much water for such a thing.
Stiffly, she straightened the bedcovers and then went to check on her clothes. She marveled to find them dry. She looked out the window and noted the position of the suns. Oh no! It was late. Had the healer already gone, thinking she scoffed at his invitation? She dressed quickly and rebraided her hair, styling it to hide her ears out of habit. She gave the room a quick check, then left and knocked next door.
A short female with strawberry blonde hair and rounded ears answered. She appeared to be in her early twenties. The Itzi dipped her head, ushering Keedrina in with a sweep of her arm. Keedrina smiled, but couldn’t keep her eyes off the steel bands. She knew slaves wore bands about the neck, wrists, and ankles, but she had never seen a slave this close before.
The slave smiled back, seemingly unbothered by her stare. “They don’t hurt,” she whispered with a wink. Keedrina looked down quickly. The slave laughed. “I’m the one who’s supposed to look down, milady. Please, relax. The master and mistress are eating. I’ll show you the way.”
Keedrina was stunned. A woman older than she had called her “milady”. Heretofore, no one had ever called her that. What was more, this slave seemed to be in high spirits. Keedrina watched the woman closely as she led the way to the kitchen.
“Welcome, Keedrina,” the healer said. “Come, sit and eat.”
She had never eaten with Elva before. Though it was an honor, Keedrina was hardly in the mood to eat, much less embarrass herself with rural Itzi manners. Yet, to refuse would be an insult. “Thank you, milord.”
The slave guided her into a chair and set a plate and flatware in front of her. Keedrina stared at the spread of food and utensils, dumbfounded. Her hosts smiled and passed platters and bowls. Keedrina took small amounts of several dishes that smelled delicious, but were unfamiliar. With a nervous smile, Keedrina mimicked the healer’s fingering on the fork and took a tentative taste of the first unknown food. She chewed, smiled, and took another quick bite.
The two Elva and the Itzi slavewoman all chuckled before turning their attention to other things. Keedrina was surprised the banded one got away with laughing, or even that she might feel any sort of happiness to begin with. She assumed that slaves were held under grim conditions, but neither the healer nor his wife noticed anything astray. Keedrina observed the slave as much as she could, hoping she wasn’t too obvious. The banded Itzi smiled at the attention. The healer and his wife exchanged glances.
“Keedrina, how did you get your clothes so clean?” the healer’s wife asked.
“I used the little brush near the basin. I couldn’t find a washboard.”
“You mean you washed your clothes in that tiny basin?”
“Y-yes, milady. Wasn’t that why you filled it for me?” Keedrina fidgeted and looked down at her lap.
The healer and his wife both laughed again. “No, that was for you to wash your face and hands. It must have been some feat, to wash that bulky tunic. You did a wonderful job,” the Elva woman said.
Keedrina smiled, relief washing over her. She hoped they could keep up the small-talk. Tears threatened and only constant attention to trivialities could hold them at bay.
“I’m sure you’ll impress the duke,” the healer said.
Keedrina’s smile faded. She had never considered such a preposterous idea. There was no way an Itzi could hope to impress an Elva nobleman. If it had been up to her, she wouldn’t bother him at all.
“Of course, you’re not coming to impress him. I’m sorry. I know this is difficult. You don’t have to pretend this is a festival. It’s all right to show your sadness.”
Keedrina nodded solemnly.
“I took care of the burial. They are all next to your father now. Moreover, I am going to deed the area around the oak tree to you. I don’t want you to think of them as being buried on someone else’s land. I should have given it to your mother when your father died, but I didn’t think of it.”
Another slow nod from Keedrina verified she was listening. Her fork hovered in a circle over the remaining food. The healer looked up to the slave and gave her a nod. Without a word, she cleared the table, bustling about with a spring in her step and a light hum on her lips. Keedrina envied anyone who could be happy right then. She didn’t bother to hide her interest and openly stared, following the slave’s every move.
The healer nudged his wife who shook her head tightly. The healer frowned at her for a second, and then both of them smiled back at Keedrina, feigning innocence of marital collaboration.
“Well, time for us to go find the duke,” the healer said as he got up from his chair.
The slave stopped her kitchen cleanup to dip her head to the healer. “Safe journeys, Master. Good day.”
“Thank you, moxi. Don’t hold supper. I may be late.”
Keedrina wondered if the slave was putting on a show for her benefit. She rose from her seat, studying moxi for any signs of falsity. The slave dipped her head to Keedrina and set a gentle hand to her back. Although moxi was older, her actions didn’t seem condescending, but respectful and genuine. Nevertheless, Keedrina felt uncomfortable, though she couldn’t figure out why.
“Good luck to you as well, milady, and... I’m sorry about your loss,” moxi offered.
Keedrina managed the faintest of smiles as she nodded and vacantly answered, “Thank you.” In the haze of her depression, she had enough presence of mind to address her hostess as well. “And thank you, milady, for the hospitality and the meal and all.”
The Elva woman nodded, smiled, and waved her away.
Keedrina scooted out the door. Outside, she soon caught up to the healer. He was headed down the cobblestone road 90 degrees away from the duke’s residence. Rebono Keep was one landmark Keedrina knew. It was set on a knoll overlooking the city, near the East Gate. Elevated as it was, it could be seen from most anywhere inside Ny’s walls. She wondered whether the healer had to look in on a patient first or whether thi
s was some sort of shortcut. She had only seen Rebono Keep from afar and had no idea which road to take. Without Mother, Ny was a labyrinth of streets, filled with far too many strange faces.
Chapter 4
Pharn walked briskly once assured Keedrina followed. He hadn’t been stretching the truth when he asserted that Duke Vahn cared about Itzi. As much as any Elva he knew, the duke acknowledged that Itzi were thinking, feeling creatures, even if inferior. Besides, Itzi were consummate followers—followers whose support would be necessary if he were ever to take the Throne from his twin brother, King Arx.
Of course, it was pure speculation that the duke aspired to such a goal. Such treasonous ideas were only whispered in private, and not with mere healers. But because Vahn was a twin, many people, including Pharn, thought Vahn’s right to the Throne was as valid as Arx’s. The nineteen-year-old duke had only lived in Ny three years, but his charisma and positive leadership had won the hearts of nearly everyone.
Pharn knew of the duke’s inclination to frequent the places where his people gathered. While the young noble dressed in impeccable clothes and usually had an entourage of slaves, he took pains to identify with subjects from both breeds and all walks of life. He toured homes, fields, and shops. He was even known to speak with shady figures and those who shunned polite society. The Scarlet Dryad was probably a favored haven because it was central to the city and had an approachable atmosphere, while still offering some royal comforts.
Pharn stopped at the tavern entrance and put up a hand for Keedrina to wait. “I’ll check and see if he’s here,” he whispered.
The Duke's Handmaid (Book 1 of the Ascendancy Trilogy) Page 2