The Slave from the East (The Eastern Slave Series Book 1)

by Victor Poole

  "Let me in," Ajalia said.

  "Gevad!" Lasa shouted, going back into the house.

  "Come on," Ajalia told Chad, and she went in. Ajalia went down to the door that led into the room where the old woman had sat last time she had been here. She opened the door, and peered in. The old woman was sleeping in the chair; the fire was out, but a little light from the window was spilling over the old woman's lap.

  GEVAD GIVES IN

  Ajalia pulled the door closed, and leaned against the doorsill. She folded her arms and waited. A shout, and a rumble of thrown furniture came from upstairs. Chad jumped.

  "Should we do something?" he asked.

  "He'll be down," Ajalia said.

  "What if he doesn't come down?" Chad asked. His shoulders had inched up a little, and his eyes were wide. Ajalia grinned at him. Gevad came thundering down the stairs.

  "What do you want?" he shouted. "Why are you here? Who is this?" Gevad's eyes took in the dim figure of Chad in the hall. Ajalia saw Chad start a little, and look more closely at Gevad. She saw that Chad was surprised that Gevad did not recognize him.

  "I want a written contract," Ajalia said. She dangled the bundle of white keys in front of Gevad, and she saw his fingers twitch. He wanted to take them from her. She saw him look at Chad, and take in the young man's Slavithe clothing.

  "Who's this?" Gevad demanded. "Why is he here?"

  "This is Chad," Ajalia said. "He is my representative." Chad stood up a little straighter, and Gevad glared at the young man.

  "What do you need a representative for?" he complained. "Do you not trust me?"

  Ajalia did not laugh. She saw that Lasa was hovering at the midway point of the stairs. "Get paper, and something to write with," she told the blonde woman. "I will need a list of those you owned, and how much they owe," Ajalia told Gevad, "and I will need details of their current living situations. I understand you have left some families living in homes they formerly owned. This is unacceptable."

  "It's none of your business," Gevad snapped.

  "It's bad business," Ajalia snapped back. "It's cruel. It's inefficient, and it makes the current tenants uncomfortable."

  "That's the way I run things," Gevad growled.

  "But now I own the houses," Ajalia said. "And the slaves."

  "They aren't slaves," Gevad grumbled.

  "But they aren't free," Chad said. His voice was too loud; he was nervous, and he almost shouted in the little hall. Gevad looked at him in distaste.

  "Come back tomorrow," Gevad said. "I'll draw something up."

  Ajalia walked back past Gevad, and began to go up the stairs. Gevad came after her. "Where are you going?" he shouted. "Come back."

  "What did the woman have to say about your arrangement with Lasa?" Ajalia asked. Chad was sticking close behind her.

  "What woman?" he asked.

  "The rich woman with long brown hair that lives in the big house on the open square. The biggest house I've seen. It's set apart from the others."

  "The Thief Lord's wife?" Chad gasped. "You spoke to her?"

  A smile of comprehension spread over Ajalia's face, and a warm feeling of joy and love blossomed in her heart.

  "Yes, Gevad," she said, smiling, turning in the stairwell and looking down at the house agent, who was standing at the foot of the stairs, and glaring mutinously up at her. "Tell me, what did the Thief Lord have to say?"

  Gevad's face turned from mutiny to appalling terror. Ajalia saw that the house agent had been counting on her ignorance of the meaning of the great house, and of the political position of the woman who reigned as mistress there. Ajalia stifled an urge to laugh.

  "What did he say?" she asked again. Gevad uttered a sort of stutter, and Ajalia smiled more widely. "Do you mean to say," she asked slowly, "that the Thief Lord does not know?"

  Gevad made a sound like a squashed frog, and Ajalia laughed.

  "This is marvelous," she said to Chad. "We're going to get everything we want."

  "We are?" Chad asked. He was whispering, and looking down at the house agent, who was standing at the bottom of the stairs with death in his face. All the anger and emotion had drained from Gevad's eyes; he sagged at the sides. All the fight had gone out of him. Lasa came down the stairs with some squares of paper in her hands, and Ajalia took them.

  "Have you got something to write with in the house?" Ajalia asked her. Ajalia felt kindly towards Lasa now. Ajalia had anticipated a fight, but now she saw her way clear to all that she desired. Lasa went back up the stairs, and Ajalia went down to the dark little hall. She opened the door into the room with the sleeping woman, and found a little table. Chad followed closely behind her.

  "What's happening right now?" he whispered. "What's going on?"

  "I won," Ajalia said simply.

  "But what happened?" Chad demanded.

  "Gevad," Ajalia called. "Come in here."

  Gevad came slowly into the room. He walked like one who has lost all reason to live. "I'm going to die," he told Ajalia. "You're going to ruin me."

  "I am," Ajalia said cheerfully. "I'm looking forward to it."

  "Why is he ruined?" Chad asked again.

  "She's blackmailing me," Gevad spat at Chad. "Why are you using him? He's stupid."

  "I like him," Ajalia said. "And I don't like you."

  "This isn't fair," Gevad complained. Lasa came into the room. She had a bottle of rich purple ink in her hands, and two pens. Ajalia looked at Lasa.

  "Gevad," Ajalia said. "I am sorely tempted to go to the Thief Lord now. I am insulted."

  "Get the proper things," Gevad muttered at Lasa. "This is ridiculous," he grumbled at Ajalia.

  "This is fun," Ajalia said.

  "Are you going to take me, as well?" Lasa asked Ajalia.

  "No," Ajalia said. "I'll take your mother."

  "Why?" Lasa wailed. "I don't like Gevad."

  "No one likes Gevad," Ajalia said.

  "What's going on?" Chad asked again, as Lasa wandered out of the room. Ajalia took one of the pens that Lasa had brought, and examined it.

  "Does the ink fade?" she asked Gevad.

  "I don't want to talk about it," he murmured.

  "Did your father sign papers with purple ink?" Ajalia asked Chad. Chad shrugged.

  "Maybe," he said. "I don't remember. It was probably purple."

  "What was his father?" Gevad asked, suddenly sharp.

  "One of those you cheated," Ajalia said.

  "You are one of mine?" Gevad demanded of Chad. Chad bristled.

  "My father lost his estate after I was of age," Chad said hotly. "I am none of yours."

  Gevad deflated a little. Ajalia examined Chad.

  "It was purple," Chad told Ajalia.

  "You're sure?" she asked with a smile. Chad blushed.

  "Of course I'm sure," he said loudly. Ajalia laughed, and Chad blushed harder. They waited for Lasa to return. When she did, she was holding a plain wooden pen.

  "This was all I could find," she said apologetically, handing it to Gevad.

  "Give it to me," Ajalia said, and Gevad rendered it up. "No ink?" Ajalia asked. Lasa shrugged.

  "Convenient," Ajalia said. She pulled out her tiny knife.

  "What are you doing?" Gevad asked, as Ajalia pulled up her sleeve.

  "Writing," she said. She put the point of the knife against the fleshy part of her hand, and pushed it in.

  "Stop! That's disgusting!" Gevad shrieked. "I will fetch ink! Stop that now!"

  Ajalia drew out the knife, and let the blood pool in her hand. "I'm waiting," she said. The edge of the knife was dripping a little. Gevad made a sound of gagging and scrambled out of the room. "Follow him," she told Chad, and Chad ran after the house agent.

  The old woman was not snoring, but her gentle breathing filled the room with a sound like paper blowing in the wind.

  "What are you going to do with my mother?" Lasa asked.

  Ajalia stared at Lasa. She did not have anything to say to the blonde woman. S
he could have said to Lasa, "I wanted to trust you." She could have said, "I wanted you to be my friend," but none of the things she wanted to say would change Lasa into someone else. Lasa stared at Ajalia, waiting, and Ajalia turned away, and looked at the things around the room. There was a small bed in one corner, laid over with a threadbare blanket that had once been luxurious. A pair of fashionable dresses, made of gentle tan fabrics, hung from the wall, and piles of cheap crockery, and a tub of a sink lay against one wall. The ceiling was thickly hung with drying plants and old vegetables. Some of the hung things had begun to rot.

  "Why haven't you cleared this out?" Ajalia asked. She touched her fingers to a strange long fruit that was beginning to grow white with mold. Lasa didn't answer. "It would have made your mother more comfortable." Ajalia said.

  "She doesn't notice anything," Lasa said. Ajalia looked at the blonde woman. Lasa was standing up straight, with her head thrown back. The green cloth was wrapped closely around her head. A vague suspicion began to grow in Ajalia's mind. She began to wonder if Lasa's hair had been cut after all.

  Ajalia's fingers wriggled. She licked her lips. The door clattered, and Gevad came back into the room, followed by Chad.

  "He tried to run away," Chad said proudly. "I followed him."

  "Have you got the ink?" Ajalia asked. The cut in her hand was dripping a little. The blood was turning shiny and gelatinous. She had the tiny knife still in her hand.

  "I've got ink," Gevad said. He put a small glass jar on the table. "Cutting yourself was totally unnecessary," he added viciously. His tone implied that Ajalia was from a land of barbarians. "Now," Gevad said, with a business-like rush. "What will you ask for?"

  Ajalia smiled. "I would like to tie up my hand," she said.

  "Fine," Gevad said. He waited for her to do something. Ajalia looked at Lasa. Lasa looked at Ajalia.

  "Chad," Ajalia said. Lasa sensed danger, and began to inch towards the door, but Chad was still blocking the doorway, and he put out his arms. "Hold the woman, Chad," Ajalia said. Lasa tried to flee, but Chad pushed himself against the door, and Lasa crashed into his body. Chad jammed himself up into the doorway, filling it up, and Lasa clawed against him in vain. Ajalia stepped forward, and Lasa spun. Lasa's eyes were wild and open wide. She did not make any noise.

  "Take off the green wrap," Ajalia directed Gevad. Gevad waved his hand at Lasa.

  "Do as she says," he ordered. Lasa was breathing heavily. Her eyes darted from Gevad to Ajalia, and she looked like a hunted mouse. Slowly, Lasa shook her head. Gevad stepped towards Lasa, and put his hand on her head. Lasa uttered a shriek and whipped away from Gevad, but it was too late. The green fabric came away in a river of rippling golden hair. Lasa had not cut her hair; she had bandaged it closely against her head, to create the impression of baldness.

  Gevad roared in outrage, and began to berate Lasa. Ajalia picked up the green cloth, and wound it up around the wound in her hand. She took her time. Gevad was shouting and shouting; the old woman woke up, and began to scream. Chad was flattened against the doorway in shock. Ajalia could see his tensed form and unbelieving eyes. He looked as though he were caught in a windstorm, and could not move to protect himself. Lasa's screeches and wails filled up the room with sound, and Gevad's anger made a deep contrast to her shrill protests.

  When Ajalia had sufficiently tied up the cut, she cleaned the tiny knife and put it away.

  "Keep the door, in case she tries to get out," Ajalia told Chad, and went towards the struggling pair.

  "Wait, don't go over there!" Chad hissed. He seemed to think that Ajalia would catch the hysteria if she went near the screaming women. The old woman was sitting in her chair, and her chiming cries were throbbing, growing less pained as Lasa's voice grew in volume and intensity.

  "They would kill me if they knew," Gevad was thundering down at Lasa. Foam and flecks of spit were filling up the corners of his mouth. His eyes were wild. Ajalia stepped between him and Lasa, and grabbed the blonde woman by the streaming locks of hair that flew over her back. Ajalia put her other fist around the hair that sprouted from the base of Lasa's head, and twisted the woman until she screamed in real pain, and crumbled to the floor. Lasa's hands flew like twisted birds to her scalp, and batted and clawed at Ajalia's wrist. Ajalia was unmoved.

  "Gevad," Ajalia said calmly, and she knew that the big man would hear her, though he was still screaming threats and abuse, bending over at the waist and directing his face at the kneeling woman. "I have new terms, Gevad," Ajalia said, and Gevad stopped up his words at once.

  He snapped upright, like a toy representation of a man. "What do you mean?" he hissed, his voice different, fresh, with a bite in his words. "We had a deal, remember?" he said.

  "This is new information for me," Ajalia said. "I told you to cut the woman's hair. You have not done so."

  "She is the one," Gevad ranted, but Ajalia cut him off.

  "The deal is broken," Ajalia said. "I have new terms for you."

  Gevad stared at Ajalia. His breath was hissing in and out of his body as though he were a serpent, and his teeth were bared. He looked insane.

  "You can't do this to me," he said.

  Ajalia drew the long knife from her back with her free hand. She drew it smoothly, with the same motion she had used in the night when she had threatened him, and Gevad stumbled a little in his ire; his eyes faltered in their relentless glare. Ajalia put the knife against Lasa's hair, and Lasa began to sob.

  "Don't," Lasa screamed. Her voice was raw. "They think I'm married. Please, please don't."

  "Gevad can make you an honest wife," Ajalia said. "Would you like him to do so?"

  "Yes," Lasa breathed. Ajalia smiled at Gevad.

  "What are you saying?" Gevad demanded. "You can't make me marry her."

  "I can't," Ajalia said. "Chad?"

  "What?" Chad said. He had calmed down since the screaming and shouting had stopped.

  "How much would it cost to free one of your sisters?" Ajalia asked. Chad named a number. It was a large number. "I don't want your houses anymore," Ajalia told Gevad. "I only want you to marry Lasa."

  "You're insane," Gevad rasped. He had said the same thing in the darkened street, and Ajalia laughed.

  "Good," Ajalia said. "I am sure the Thief Lord will take my side when I present him with this woman, and tell him everything."

  Lasa froze. "You can't," she whispered. Her hands gripped at Ajalia's hands, pulling fiercely at her fingers. Ajalia kicked Lasa hard, and Lasa stopped. Chad made a little whimper at the violence.

  Gevad was beginning to quiver. He did not look angry. He did not look shocked. He looked numb. "What would it take for you to go away and never bother me again?" he asked finally. Ajalia looked at him. She looked at Chad.

  "Nothing will make me go away," she said. Gevad searched her eyes. He believed her.

  "Why are you doing this to me?" he asked. His voice was more sincere now than it had been at any point in Ajalia's interaction with him. He sounded now like a man who was asking a question. He was not trying to set her up, or to make her trip. He was asking.

  Ajalia dragged Lasa across the floor to the table, and picked up the paper. The blood on her bandage seeped into the paper, and she held it out to Gevad.

  "Do you really want to know?" Ajalia asked.

  Gevad nodded.

  "Sign everyone and everything over to me, and sign it, and date it, and I will tell you."

  Chad waved his fingers. "Contracts have to be witnessed by an official to be—"

  "Shut up," Ajalia said sharply. Chad closed his mouth. His skin flushed an angry red.

  Gevad took up the pen, and opened the glass jar of ink he had brought. Lasa sniffled and squirmed on the floor. Ajalia yanked Lasa's hair, and the blonde woman stopped moving.

  Gevad scratched out a short paragraph on the paper. "They will not say it is official," he told Ajalia as he signed the paper, "but I will honor what is written here." Gevad made a note of the date, and held ou
t the paper. Ajalia took it, and read it.

  She held out her hand, and after a moment, Gevad took it.

  The old woman's sobs had subsided into angry moans, and now she stopped crying. Ajalia had released Lasa, and the blonde woman ran across the room, and threw herself over the small bed.

  "I will come in the morning," Ajalia said, "for the lists."

  "I will draw them up tonight," Gevad said. "You can send the boy for them." Gevad glanced at Chad, and there was dislike in his eyes, but no fear. It took Chad a moment to realize that Gevad meant him, and he straightened up in indignation at being called "boy".

  Ajalia still held the long knife in her hand. She flipped it so that the handle was facing out, and offered it to Gevad. Gevad took the knife, and turned towards Lasa.

  "Chad will come for the knife, and the lists, in the morning," Ajalia said.

  "Do you want some of the hair?" Gevad asked. Ajalia shrugged.

  "Keep it," she said. She took Chad by the arm, and carried the paper out of the room. She waited until they had reached the street, and then let go of Chad. Night had fallen while they were in the house. Ajalia took a deep breath, and stretched her arms out in the darkness.

  "That went extremely well," she said. "Take me to your old house."

  Chad made a fluttering movement with his shoulders. "I do not appreciate being called a boy," he said snippily.

  "You are a boy," Ajalia said.

  "I am not!" he exclaimed. "I'm older than you, probably."

  "You might be," she said, "but you are very much a boy."

  "That's a very rude thing to say," Chad said.

  "Then don't act like a boy," Ajalia said.

  "I'm not acting like a boy," Chad said.

  "Where is your old house?" Ajalia asked. Chad looked at her with hot eyes.

  "Maybe I won't show you," he said angrily.

  "We can argue more efficiently while we walk," Ajalia said. Chad glared at her.

  "Fine," he said. "But I'm not happy about it."

  "You don't have to be happy about anything," she said. "I'm not paying you to be happy."

  "You're going to pay me?" Chad said at once.

  "No," she said, "but I'm especially not paying you to be happy."