The Duke's Handmaid (Book 1 of the Ascendancy Trilogy)

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The Duke's Handmaid (Book 1 of the Ascendancy Trilogy) Page 7

by Caprice Hokstad


  Keedrina fed and watered the chickens, gathered eggs, and then cleaned up the accumulated droppings. She supposed timna would be along in the afternoon. If nothing else, Keedrina wanted to have tea to offer her special guest. She bartered with a neighbor, gaining a loaf of bread and a bit of tea for a dozen surplus eggs.

  Finally, she had time to read her ITC scroll. Her reading would be slow, but she determined to read until timna arrived or until she finished. She settled to the straw and rolled the parchment out. The top had “ITC” in large purple letters with gold embossed filigree, then smaller letters beneath. She read them in a whisper, “The Institution of Slavery in the Twelve Kingdoms: History, Law, and Practice, Latoph Edition.” Taking a deep breath, she pored over the text with great concentration, her lips moving as she sounded out the words.

  She was surprised there were so many protective laws concerning slavery: treaties of non-capture with several kingdoms; debtors had the right to choose any owner who could pay the debt; children under ten could not be enslaved; youth slaves automatically gained freedom at age sixteen; slaves could not be indiscriminately maimed or mistreated. So many protections. The scroll went on and on about how civilized the practice was over the Ancient Times.

  She read about the different types of slaves and the tattooed symbols that accompanied them. The “P” was for Permanent Slaves, for those that were sentenced to slavery for crimes. Prisoners of war might also be designated Permanent, but if they escaped to their home kingdom, it was expected that their king would order the “P” fashioned into an “R” and name them “Royal Protectorates”. Royal Protectorates were safe from extradition as long as they carried documents. All Twelve Kingdoms would otherwise uphold the universal convention of bands or the “P” mark and return runaways to their owners.

  Keedrina devoured the information. Even the old edition of the Ny Gazette Botlop had once brought paled in comparison. She read on about customs, traditions, and the many ways the ITC was there to help. One passage in particular caught her attention—Freewill Slaves are by far the least common. One can recognize them by bands accompanied by “expired” numbers, Owner’s Marks, or no marks whatsoever. It gave her a warm, tingly feel to read it.

  Suddenly, she had a flash of remembrance. Mother had opposed the profit-mongering aspect of slavery. timna had said there was no disgrace in service and Keedrina was sure that her mother would agree. She didn’t have to accept any money. That would prove to everyone, including herself, that her motives were honorable. Deep within, she yearned to serve Duke Vahn Rebono, to discard her shoes, wear his colors, and belong to his house. This Freewill Slave classification was written proof that her desires were acceptable. She felt profound satisfaction at her self-revelation. She would be a Freewill Slave.

  She cursed the vow she had made the night before to wait three months. So deep was her desire, it would be hard to wait that long, but wait she would, if for no other reason but to prove to her mother and herself that this was no passing fancy or impulsive reaction to the murders.

  Chapter 14

  Life in Rebono Keep was miserable when Master Vahn was not home. timna had been careful not to speak ill of her mistress to Lady Keedrina, but it had been difficult to continue running off from the guest cottage and refusing Keedrina’s help without explanation. Yet, how could she tell the gentle farmgirl that Mistress Saerula was a hateful harridan who despised Itzi and peasants?

  timna suspected she had been made optimess chiefly because she was Elva and therefore the only one Mistress Saerula would allow to touch her sheets and undergarments.

  The household slaves had standing orders to vacate any room that Mistress Saerula wished to occupy. Anyone who had been with the house for any length of time was happy to obey that order. The mistress claimed she simply craved solitude. Why then did she so often countermand the order for timna to perform petty tasks? The mistress masked her bigotry with a feigned fondness for timna.

  It was hard to say how much Master Vahn knew about Mistress Saerula’s true nature. Usually, he adored his wife and thought her incapable of anything ill, so timna had been surprised he ordered Lady Keedrina kept in the cottage. Perhaps he simply thought avoiding any outside contact was wise while his wife was so heavy with child.

  The minute timna reported Master Vahn was “not expected for three days,” the house turned upside down. If the mistress wasn’t whacking hands and calves with her riding crop, she was finding fault with everything from the way aprons were tied to the amount of pulp in her citrus juice. Slaves ran up and down the stairs, back and forth from her chamber to the sitting room to the kitchen to the parlor. There appeared to be no purpose in most of her orders, except to torment slaves. timna could have stayed in the guest cottage with Lady Keedrina as Master Vahn ordered, but she wouldn’t leave the Itzi slaves alone at Mistress’ mercy.

  Once, before she was optimess, timna had mentioned Mistress Saerula’s oppression to her master. Mistress had convinced him that she, timna, was exaggerating to drive a wedge between them or garner attention for herself. Master Vahn had rebuked timna. She would never make the mistake of reporting anything the mistress did ever again. And Mistress knew it.

  Chapter 15

  Vahn finished with the posse much earlier than he’d expected. With a mirthful glint in his eyes, he decided to surprise his wife. He snuck into Rebono Keep through the kitchen, pressing a finger to his lips to quiet the slaves working there. They made hasty retreats, leaving him to plot his emergence to the parlor where he could hear Saerula’s voice.

  At first, he couldn’t hear words. Stepping closer, he heard Saerula berating timna. His first impulse was anger at timna for not being more accommodating. He nearly bounded into the room, ready to roar at the optimess and dispense punishment. He peered through a cracked door.

  “I want the best teacup,” Saerula hissed.

  “Yes, Mistress,” timna said. “Which one seems best to you?” She stood at the hutch where the teacups were displayed, standing aside so Saerula could choose from a china collection full of exquisite specimens.

  “Just pick one and be quick about it.”

  “Yes, Mistress.” timna removed an expensive tea and saucer set and started toward the table.

  “Not that one, you tasteless peasant. Take it back.”

  timna turned without a sigh or complaint. “Yes, Mistress.” She removed a second teacup and saucer, this one just as fine as the first.

  “What is taking so long, you stupid girl?”

  “timna is sorry, Mistress. Is this one acceptable?” She held the cup up for inspection.

  “Well, it will have to do. As long as you’re taking, my tea will be cold by the time I have any.”

  “Would you like timna to reheat the water?”

  “No, I’ve waited long enough. Get over here and serve me now.”

  timna dipped her head and brought the teacup to the table. Just before she set it down, Saerula leaned over and whacked her calf twice with her riding crop. “Incompetent slug,” she spat. timna winced and endured the blows without so much as a grumble.

  Vahn’s jaw dropped. How timna could stand it? His own reprimand suddenly sprang back to memory. timna had told him about this long ago and he’d taken Saerula’s side. He cringed at the realization and withdrew. He had to confront his wife, but not in front of timna. No matter how wrong she was, Saerula was still mistress of the house and he had to maintain respect for her.

  As he walked around the keep to make a more public entrance, Vahn decided that revealing what he’d seen would diminish his chances to observe his wife’s attitudes discreetly. Could he possibly face timna again without telling her how sorry he was?

  Far down the path, he saw Keedrina outside his gates, staring at the Rebono crests then shaking her head rather sadly and trudging on. She was all alone with nothing but her bereavement and chickens. Her pride and reluctance had rather baffled him until now. If Saerula was this odious to timna, he shuddered to think o
f leaving an Itzi at her mercy. He had been vaguely aware that Saerula was not particularly fond of the round-eared breed, but he had never suspected the enormity of the problem. His face contorted into a scowl.

  Vahn stomped up the garden entry, the door he normally used when returning from the stables. Stomping accomplished two objectives: it gave him an outlet for his anger and it announced his presence. He wanted to be sure this arrival would be noticed. Carefully replacing his scowl with a weary smile, he walked in the door. As if on cue, the slaves inside knelt and chorused a greeting, “Welcome home, Master Vahn.” Was it his imagination, or did they sound louder than necessary? Were they giving warning to Saerula or truly happy to see him? Second-guessing irritated him.

  “Thank you all. It is good to be back. Where might I find the duchess?”

  “In the parlor taking tea, Master,” a young Itzi replied, bowing her head. Vahn waved dismissal as he strode toward the parlor. He would have preferred to speak to his slaves, but it would look abnormal not to hurry to Saerula’s arms.

  Giving no further warning, Vahn progressed into the parlor. Saerula looked up with an innocent mien and welcomed him in an excited tone. Vahn matched her animation as he kissed her. He sat beside her and placed his hand on her burgeoning belly. “How have we been?” he asked.

  “Tired, my love, so tired. Glad you’re back safe,” she purred back with a smile.

  Surely, the problem with timna was a caste prejudice Saerula could unlearn, he tried to assure himself. Itzi or Elva, slaves were people deserving of courtesy and kindness. It seemed obvious to him. Then again, he had experienced prejudice first hand. Arx had received all Father’s attention because he would be king. “And did the staff take good care of you, love?” His voice was serious now.

  “Nothing is the same without you here. Promise me you won’t leave again before the baby is born.”

  “I promise, my love. I will stay with you.” He kissed her cheek again. She was so uncomfortable. Pregnancy could have made her a little snappy. He was just about to dismiss the whole episode when his gaze caught timna again. Her calf bore two nasty, red welts. He frowned and cleared his throat. “Saerula, why was timna hit?”

  “Hit?” If Vahn hadn’t known better, he would have assumed from her tone and expression that she truly didn’t know a thing about it. timna remained silent, replacing the cup and saucer sets she hadn’t used.

  “Come here, timna,” he ordered.

  “Yes, Master.” She hurried to his feet, slipped gracefully to her knees, and bowed her head.

  Normally, Vahn would give her a reassuring touch or greet her and thereby release her from the bow. This time, as much as he wanted to, he didn’t. “timna, there are two welts on your left calf. How did they get there?”

  She hesitated a moment. “They were timna’s fault, Master,” she said sadly.

  He pressed in a stern voice, “Were they? Hmm. You didn’t answer me though. How did they get there?”

  timna bit her lower lip. Saerula held an indifferent expression and made no attempt at explanation. “It was Mistress Saerula’s rightful correction, Master Vahn,” timna said.

  Vahn arched a brow and turned to Saerula. “Is that true, love?”

  “I’d hardly call it hitting her,” Saerula said. “She was slow and wouldn’t listen to a thing I said. I was probably too easy on her, considering.”

  “Hmmmn. I see. Perhaps she needs further correction then?” This was Saerula’s last chance to confess.

  “Oh, would you please, Vahn? It’s too awkward for me to do it properly in my condition. And they all know it and take advantage of me when you aren’t here.”

  It was worse than he imagined. Saerula was so smooth that he nearly believed her despite having witnessed the event himself. “Of course, love. I will take care of it. You say they all took advantage of you while I was gone? Then I will punish every last one of them.” He searched her face for a reaction. All he found was a smug grin.

  Vahn turned to timna and spoke in the harshest voice he could muster. “timna, I am very disappointed in you. I cannot even be gone a day and come home to a peaceful household. Gather all the house staff and report to the dungeon immediately.” He couldn’t look her in the face or he knew his act would fall apart.

  She nodded without lifting her head. “Yes, Master,” she whispered. Vahn couldn’t believe she didn’t protest, but he was thankful. Playacting was difficult enough. She arose from the floor, dipped her head dutifully, then hurried out.

  Determined to see this through, Vahn nibbled from a pastry he found on the table before sitting back and patting Saerula’s hand. “Do you have any suggestions? I mean for punishment—what would you have done if it hadn’t been for your condition?”

  Saerula sighed. Vahn couldn’t tell if he was getting close to the heart he knew she had or whether she had detected the falsity in him. “I don’t care what you do. Just teach them some respect and let them know they can’t get away with how they treated me. And those scruffy Itzi were the worst.” Her tone was as wounded as he’d ever heard.

  “Absolutely, my love. Consider it handled.” He gave timna more time to gather the others to the dungeon and adroitly kept his mouth full in the interim. At length, he pushed away from the table and stood. “I’ll be back in a while. Don’t expect to see any of them back tonight.”

  Saerula smiled and leaned back in her chair. She took a bite from a pastry as she waggled her fingers at her departing husband.

  Vahn controlled his expression until he was well away from the parlor. How in Byntar was he going to face his entire house staff with this? He had to maintain respect for the mistress, but he wasn’t about to punish anyone without cause. Saerula had already done enough of that. He took a deep breath and headed down the dark spiral staircase. He came to the end of the stone-lined descent to find the iron door open. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light of a single candle, he shut the door with a loud thud.

  He found his twelve female slaves, ranging in age from 14 to 25, in a neat row on the cold stone floor. All were in the Abject Position—placing themselves at his mercy and fully submitting to his whims—lying face down with their arms outstretched, 24 wrist bands perfectly aligned. Not a one moved nor made a sound. Vahn doubted there was a better collection in all the Twelve Kingdoms. To have his wife nit-pick on his prized house hurt him to the core.

  He sighed deeply. “Please, all of you, get up,” he said in a soft tone. The slaves, who were all Ringed and Itzi, save for timna, nervously pulled themselves up into Standard Kneeling Positions.

  “I have a problem and I need all of you to help me,” he said. Surprised expressions met him. His lips curled into a compassionate smile. “timna, I happened to come home earlier than you know. I saw what Saerula did and I do not approve. You tried to tell me once before and I didn’t listen. Please forgive me.”

  timna’s jaw dropped; she nodded mutely.

  “I am proud of all of you for the way you have acted toward a mistress who is difficult. And I’m afraid I have to ask you to continue in the same manner.”

  He stopped a moment to think. “How many of you have been hit with that infernal crop? I want to see the marks.” Eight of the twelve had welts of varying degrees. They shifted to reveal the marks on their calves and displayed the backs of their hands. One Itzi had at least ten marks on one leg. He cringed and shook his head.

  He sat down and called each welted girl to him by name. Individually, he bade each one to sit on his lap, kissed any wounded hands, and transferred a kiss with his fingers to marked calves. He wasn’t sure if the Itzi understood the Elva custom of sympathy and apology, so he whispered, “I’m sorry,” to each girl before he dismissed her.

  Once they all lined up on the floor again, he continued speaking to the group. “Barring any emergency, I won’t leave again until after the baby is born. I ask you to trust me to take care of this. Saerula is still mistress of the house and must be treated as such. I will tell her I am
taking care of discipline from now on, and I need your help to make this work. You are not to tell her anything about how you are punished, understood?”

  All twelve nodded.

  “If she presses you, you are to say—respectfully—‘Master Vahn forbade us to speak of it, Mistress.’ I will tell her that I made this rule to discourage grumbling. Now, I sentence the Ringed slaves to three days respite in the dungeon. I will bring food, pillows, and blankets. You are simply to rest. When I let you out, I want you all pretending to be relieved, all right? Rub your wrists and ankles a lot. Let your clothes get dirty and don’t even try to straighten your hair.”

  The Ringed slaves smiled and giggled at the supposed “punishment.”

  “timna, I’m afraid I can’t give you three days. You will stay the night down here and ostensibly not be available to help Saerula with her bath and dressing in the morning.” He wanted Saerula to see how much good the slaves did. “I promised Lady Keedrina a visit from you tomorrow. I’m concerned about her and I’d like you to see how she’s doing. You may stay with her as long as she will have you without rousing suspicion or as long as you can stand it.”

  “timna will be happy to visit Lady Keedrina, Master. timna thinks she might be considering joining your house. Would that please you?”

  “It would please me very much, yes, but don’t push her. She is still mourning her family. As long as you see she isn’t starving or freezing, don’t bring it up. She already knows she is welcome.”

  timna nodded. Vahn caressed her cheek, then stood again and used the candle to light oil lamps in wall sconces. He looked back at his slaves, all still kneeling in a row. “Please, be comfortable. It may be a while before I can return with the amenities.” He waved his hand.

  He received nods, smiles, and a chorus of “Yes, Master,” but not one moved. How could he not beam with pride? He walked behind them and kissed each head top before silently stepping to the iron door. He opened it slowly, sounding a great creak. Suddenly aghast that it was too quiet within, he motioned before the creaking ended. The slaves caught on and groaned on cue. Perfect. He exited quickly and slammed the heavy door to silence them. There was no sound on his side of the door but the turning of the key. He never heard the cheering within.

 

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