by Heath Pfaff
"Open the gate!" Weaver bellowed, lacking anger, but with a tinge of "the voice" making his tone carry far and resonate through the evening air. Those at the top of the bridge, seeing who was making the demand, immediately called down to the draw-bridge crew to lower the massive wooden bridge. As the bridge was lowered, I could also see a heavy, black iron portcullis being raised. Beyond the lowering wooden ramp and the iron portcullis, the courtyard was chaotic with activity. There were lines of men at arms, at least a hundred, though quite possibly more, involved in some type of training exercise. They were organized into lines, repeating the same moves over and over again, drilling with long halberds. My training, and my peculiar new vision, allowed me to see every flaw in their motions down to the smallest waver of their balance. I realized that without Kye's sacrifice, I would have looked far worse than any of them. As we waited for the drawbridge to finish its descent, I saw a runner being dispatched to the castle proper, probably notifying whoever resided there of our arrival. Once the bridge was down and the portcullis up, Weaver began to lead the way across the great wooden walkway and into Renwalk Fortress. I noticed none of the tension I had seen in him when we entered Paix Farth, and I felt a wave of relief. I hoped for no repeat of the events there. As we passed through the gates, every guard or soldier we passed snapped to sharp attention. Weaver didn't acknowledge them, and I did my best to also pretend not to notice them, but my eyes still wandered over the sight. I had seen human military men before, but never so many in one place. I subconsciously drew my hood tighter about me, and pulled the mask on my cloak up to cover the bottom half of my face. Weaver might have been comfortable amidst the guards and soldiers of Renwalk, but their eyes upon me made my skin crawl. I was, I realized, witnessing the first "benefits" of a Knight's rank. The Knights of Ethan were second only to the king himself.
We walked straight through the expansive courtyard, past the lines of soldiers being trained for battle, and to the gates of the castle proper. These second gates were already open, and Weaver lead the way inside, without pausing, to where we were met by a man dressed in an extravagant red silk coat. He had neatly cut shoulder length brown hair, almost feminine in style, which framed a fat face with an upturned nose. His face was far from the only potion of his body that was fat, I realized, as I saw how his short legs seemed barely able to keep up his massive stomach. He wore several rings of gold on each hand, and several extravagant necklaces were draped about his neck. I disliked him immediately for he gave off an air of pompous self-righteousness that couldn't be ignored. I wondered if he was the "Lord Twist" we had come to see, but I didn't stay curious long.
"Lord Twist will see you immediately, Master Lucid..." The smug man began in a smooth, deep voice that seemed ill fitted to his frame.
My companion cut him off in mid-sentence, a flash of fire in his eyes. "Whilst I'm here, you will refer to me as Weaver, or not at all. As you can see, I have a guest with me today, and we don't need to have him confused by superfluous titles, do we, Kensil?" Weaver's voice was cold but controlled as he addressed the man, and I suddenly realized that I had heard something that wasn't intended for my ears. I couldn't be certain, but it had sounded like the short fat man, Kensil, had nearly called Weaver "Lucidil," a name I was quite familiar with. It was a name that most people of the human colonies were familiar with to some degree. Lucidil was the name of the man who had first invented the strange shifting fabric that was so hard to come by, and in fact also the man for whom the fabric had been named. Was Weaver that same man? I looked at the grim set of his features as he faced the pompous man in the silk jacket. I again pondered the great mystery that was Weaver. I knew so little about him, but suspected that there were great things working around him.
"Ah, yes, I'm sorry, Weaver." The man, Kensil, stammered over his apology, his face going white. He was, for all his pomposity, obviously aware, to some extent, of Weaver's potential. I immediately revised that thought, however, realizing that most people were afraid of the Knights of Ethan to some extent, and Kensil might simply be displaying a natural human fear. "Then shall I find a place for your companion to wait while you see the Lord Twist?"
I didn't wish to be sent off somewhere to wait while Weaver attended to his business. I was curious to see what sort of business he was on, that he would be expected at Renwalk, but the red-eyed warrior nodded his ascent to Kensil. I frowned beneath my mask, but kept it to myself. The red fabric of his silk jacket swished as the fat, pompous man moved next to me. "I believe that you can find your own way to Lord Twist's study, Weaver?" He asked, and when Weaver again nodded his ascent, Kensil turned his attention to me.
"If you would please follow me..." He let the sentence hang, obviously waiting for me to introduce myself.
"Lowin." I said, and some of the frustration I felt at being sent away, instead of being allowed to know the nature of our business, crept into my voice. That seemed to put the fat gaudily dressed man on edge, though I hadn't meant to do so.
"Alright, Master Lowin, please come this way." He turned and began walking down a hallway to the left. I fell in behind him, only looking over my shoulder once to see that Weaver was already gone, vanished from where he been but a moment before. I followed Kensil, waiting a few seconds before speaking again.
"Sir Lucidil has been quite tense since the events at Fell Rock." I commented to the man walking in front of me. When he didn't answer after a moment, I added, "He is hoping that some of the others may have come this way." I wasn't exactly sure what I was hoping to get out of Kensil, but I felt the man held information that would be of interest to me, and my frustration at being made to bide my time while Weaver went about his business forced my hand.
"Then Lucidil shall be pleased, one of your own has been waiting here for him for a few days now, and I understand he comes with good news." Kensil said, a note of good cheer in his voice, but he didn't add anything else. He had said enough, though. I had learned two very important pieces of information from the silk jacketed man; Weaver's real name, that he'd had before joining the Knights, was indeed Lucidil, and, perhaps more importantly, at least one of the Knights of Ethan was somewhere within Renwalk Fortress and had good news to deliver. I was about to try and pump Kensil for more information, but we had reached our destination. Kensil stopped at a door, opened it, and ushered me inside saying, "I shall send refreshment along shortly." He stepped out and shut the door behind him. I could see the obvious expression of relief on his face as the door closed. He was more than happy to be done with me. That did not bother me greatly. I was quite pleased to be rid of his company as well. He had been an unpleasant man, though I wasn't sure entirely why he had struck me so. I shrugged the matter off.
I could hardly contain my excitement at the prospect of good news from the Knights of Ethan. The only matter that concerned me was finding out who had survived the attack at Fell Rock, but one survivor might well know of others who had survived. The prospect filled me with anticipation. The room I was in was apparently some form of guest quarters. It had a bed, a room off to one side with a nice sized wash basin, and a table that would comfortably sit two. There were no windows, but the room was well decorated with wall-hangings and other furniture. It was at least three times as large as my room at Fell Rock. I made my way to the room with the wash basin and began cleaning myself. It had been too long since I'd really had the chance to make myself presentable, and I decided I would take advantage of the opportunity. I tossed my cloak over the back of a chair, shut the door to the small room, and undressed the rest of the way, doing as thorough a job as possible of washing the grime of the road from myself with the soap and water available. While I was working on the process of removing layers of dirt from my flesh, I thought I heard what sounded like the door to my room opening and closing. I finished scrubbing the grime from myself and redressed, eager to have at whatever refreshments had been left for me. I was hungry, and tired of eating rations and unseasoned game. As I opened the door that led back
into my room, my jaw dropped. The table had a large, covered, silver tray on it, but what really surprised me was the woman standing off to one side of the tray, looking at me as I came back out of the wash room. She was undressed from the waist up, her more than ample bosom fully exposed, and glistening in the light cast by the room's candles as though her skin was oiled. She wore a semi-transparent gown about her hips that did little to hide the exquisite feminine features beneath. Her eyes were a deep brown, and her face was framed by a smooth, light brown hair that hung down far enough to offer her the barest hint of modesty across her supple chest. I noticed that she was so skinny that I could make out her individual ribs. After staring at me for a time, though I didn't know how long because I'd been doing some staring myself, she dropped to her knees and bowed her head. I heard the rustle of chain as she bowed, and looked down to see that her left ankle was shackled, and there was a chain running from her ankle to an iron circle partially embedded in stone at the door, where it was fastened with a lock. She was, in effect, on a leash that allowed her to move about the room, but not much else.
"Master Lowin, I am here for your pleasure." She said in a voice that quavered with timidity and fear, her eyes downcast as she spoke. I didn't honestly know what to make of the situation. I was no longer entirely naïve in the ways of the world, and I understood that it was common for young women to be sold into body-service to rich nobles in order to pay the debts of their family. I, however, was not of a mind to take advantage of such a situation. The girl was terrified of me, and I would not willingly bed someone who was only going to do so because it was expected of them. Kye had not been the type to get jealous of physical affection. She had explained to me that among her people, they did not concern themselves with such trivial matters, but what would Kyeia think of me if I were to force an unwilling girl into my bed? I didn't have to ask the question, because I knew what she would have thought, and I would have felt the same myself. Sleeping with a slave was rape no matter how you looked at it. I would not sully her or myself in such a manner.
"Stand up." I told the girl, finding that my voice was firm, full of a sense of command that I didn't know I possessed. She snapped to her feet, her finer attributes swaying in a fetching manner. I made a point of softening my voice. "My pleasure today will come from the refreshments you've brought, and not your flesh, you needn't worry." She relaxed, but only to the slightest degree. I walked around the table, grabbing the blanket from the bed as I passed, and draping it around her shoulders. She flinched as I came near her, and I tried to pretend that it didn't bother me that my presence was now so terrible that common people flinched away. I pulled out a chair and sat down, removing the lid from the food. There was some form of roasted meat on the platter, heavily spiced and beautifully aromatic. There were also a variety of seasonal vegetables, warm bread, and a bowl of some sort of soup. Multiple empty plates had been supplied, one per course. Instead I grabbed one of the plates and placed a few scraps of meat and vegetable on it, and ladled some of the soup over it. There was more food than I could eat by myself, but not really enough for two people.
"Have a seat, girl. Eat something." I said, not wanting to eat alone with her watching me, hunger obvious on her face. To my surprise she didn't hesitate to sit down and begin eating. I thought she might have, if for no other reason than because she feared me. She tore into the food with abandon, eating so fast I thought she might choke. The poor girl was starved. She seemed to notice me watching her after a moment, and she slowed down her eating, but there were tears in her eyes.
"I'm sorry, Master Lowin." She said from around a mouthful of food. "I didn't mean to eat so much of your..."
I shook my head. "It's alright. I wasn't that hungry anyway. Eat what you want." I lied easily. I was hungry, but my body was never short on energy. I imagined I could go much longer than the frail girl wrapped in a blanket could before my next meal. She continued eating, going through most of my food in short order, but I didn't care. A strong distaste for Renwalk was building up inside me.
"You are nicer than most of them." She said in a small voice, after she had finished eating.
I shrugged, not sure who she meant by "most of them," and not entirely comfortable with that line of conversation. "I just try to do what is right." I replied.
"Your eyes are kind of pretty, not all dark and scary like those others..." She added, getting up from her seat and coming around the table towards me, the blanket fell off of her shoulders as she moved, exposing the girl's breasts. "I wouldn't mind making you feel good, you know, since you've been so kind to me." She whispered those words into my ear as she drew close. I felt my body responding to the suggestion, but I shook my head.
"What's your name?" I asked her. She kissed my neck.
"Lace." She whispered again.
"Well, Lace, you needn't repay my kindness in such a way. I am content with your company." I told her, though I did, indeed, want to have her at that moment. Physical lust is difficult to suppress, but I felt that it would be wrong to accept Lace's body in payment for giving her the food she so desperately needed.
She moved away from me then, her eyes wet with moisture. "You really are a good one." She said. "I was so scared when they told me I was to service one of the Dark-Eyes, but you are not like the others, and it's not just your pretty purple eyes."
I shrugged once more, not sure how to reply, and not sure what that implied about my fellow Knights. I felt a churning in the pit of my stomach. Were so many of us really that terrible? Lace moved over to the bed, dragging her chain behind her, and laid down. "I really don't mind if you join me." She said, once more offering me a sincere temptation. I got up from my chair and walked to the bed, laying down beside her, but not touching her. She crawled across the bed to me, running her hands down my torso towards the waist of my pants, but I grabbed her hand and stopped her.
"I recently lost someone who was very important to me, and it still weighs heavily upon my heart." I told her. "Let us just lay and enjoy the quiet for a time." She smiled, and it was an honest expression that I guessed she probably did not wear very often.
"Alright, Master Lowin." She whispered, and laid her head on my chest. In a matter of minutes she was sleeping, though I didn't fall immediately into the land of dreams. Who were the Knights of Ethan, and what kind of a band were we that everyone so feared us? What had our king created? These questions plagued me, but in time they faded. The warm press of Lace's body against mine sent my mind in another, painful direction. My memories ran back to my first and last night in bed with Kye, the desperation and sincerity in our passion together. Tears crept to my eyes. The world was not the place I'd always thought it was. How can I go on without you, Kye? I thought to myself. Of course there was no answer, and so I lay in quiet desperation, until sleep finally took me.
"I see you've kept yourself busy while I took care of business," came a familiar voice, startling me awake. I sat up in bed, Lace coming awake as well. Weaver was standing in my doorway, and behind him I could just make out the form of Kensil. Upon seeing Weaver, Lace cowered behind me, and I could feel her shaking at my back. Even as I stood up from the bed, the mostly naked girl stayed hidden behind me, the chain on her ankle rattling as she stepped off the feather mattress onto the ground.
"It's not what it seems. She merely kept me company while I ate, and stayed by me while I slept." I said, defending the honor of a girl I knew probably had little left to defend, though it was no choice of her own. Kensil laughed from where he stood behind the red-eyed warrior, the man I now knew to be Lucidil.
"I've heard she is quite good at keeping one company." He said snidely, his lip curling in an unpleasant smile that made me like the man less than I had before, if that were even possible.
I stood up straight, my shoulders stiffening as my ire built. Weaver seemed to notice, and he moved to head off anything rash I might do or say. "It matters not, Lowin. It is time for us to be gone. Get your gear together, and we'll b
e on our way."
I shook my head. "I'll not leave Lace here to be abused. I want her freed, and given something to start her own life." The words left my mouth before I'd really thought them through. I was, after all, in no position to make such demands. Lace was a slave, and I was just a passing warrior. However, it was a decision that must have come to me in my sleep. Or, more likely still, it was not a decision but simply an inability on my part to allow a person as kind and gentle as Lace to be used and mistreated. I knew, in my heart, that there were others in her position that I wasn't helping, but what would I be if I allowed such an abuse of humanity to continue in front of my very eyes?
"Master Lowin, you shouldn't put yourself in..." Lace began, but her words were cut off as Kensil burst into laughter.
The little man's voice was oily and disgusting as he spoke. "Is this your first flop, boy, that you are so taken by a whore? She wets your manhood a little, and you fall in love with her?" He burst into laughter. "Well you'll get no more of her, she's one of my best girls and I have no..."
Weaver raised his hand, silencing Kensil's outburst. He eyed Lace, and then he turned his attention to me, an honest curiosity in his eyes. "What of it, Lowin, what is this little slave girl to you? There are another hundred like her in the servants' quarters. Why do you care what happens to this one?"