The Serf and the Soldier

by Holly Law

  The Serf and the Soldier

  Holly Law

  Text copyright © 2012 Holly L Law

  All Rights Reserved

  Also Available

  Empress in Hiding (Heir of Dori)

  Empress on the Run (Heir of Dori)

  (Coming Soon)

  The Prince of Machines (The Last Mechanics)

  The Prince of the Havalla (The Last Mechanics)

  (Coming Soon)

  Table of Contents

  Serf to Servant

  Corscan Soldiers

  The Rider

  Journey

  Velshire

  Return Home

  Unexpected Guest

  Lord ‘Daliscas’

  Treason

  Good-bye

  Regret

  Second Chances

  Introduction to Politics

  The Wedding

  The Argument

  The Ride to Corsca

  Separated

  Silcor

  Lord Koldre

  Hope

  Rejection

  Moving On

  Together

  Excerpt from Empress in Hiding

  Serf to Servant

  The sun rose high in its usual way and the birds rose first to greet it. It was to this gentle song that Elara woke every morning. And just as she had most of the mornings she could remember, she smiled at their song.

  Elara did not pause in her dressing to undo her night braid and simply wrapped it around her head to keep it securely out of her way. She briefly brushed out her dress before determining it was as good as it was going to get. When she entered the kitchen, she saw her mother already stoking the fire for breakfast.

  “Start the eggs,” her mother instructed her as she continued to prod and fuel the fire.

  “Yes, ma'am,” Elara replied obediently and headed to the basket of eggs without a second thought. She grabbed up a couple of brown eggs from the covered basket on the shelf. She cracked the eggs into a frying pan and placed it on a stand in the fire. It made a satisfactory sizzle. Elara smiled at the pan.

  She struggled every day with those eggs, but that sizzle sounded right for once. She carefully prodded the eggs around the pan, hoping for once to succeed. Within a minute, black specks started to appear in the eggs and she sighed. She had burned the eggs again.

  Her father walked out from the back room stretching. Her older brother wasn't too far behind him. Both were dressed and ready for the day's farm work. Her father was a tall man that was all muscle. He had a quick sense of humor, but rarely smiled. His gruff face looked unfriendly to outsiders, but Elara knew him to be a very gentle man. Her brother had a very similar demeanor to her father only his kindness showed clear through his face.

  “Morning, Lara,” her brother said yawning and trying to mess her hair, as was his morning ritual. “No Corscans carried you off in the middle of the night I see.”

  “Your snoring scared them off as usual, Lairk,” Elara replied coolly to her brother's playful jab at her childhood nightmares.

  “The ruckus he makes in his sleep is enough to scare a whole army of Corscans away,” her father agreed pulling on his boots. “They wouldn't brave something making that big of a noise, even for a pretty thing like you.”

  “And if they were, the sight of the two of you would scare them off,” Elara replied with a smile and she scrambled the eggs quickly. Despite her best efforts more and more black began to appear as they burned.

  “Enough of this talk about Corscans,” her mother scolded them as she wiped her hands on her apron. “There has been too much talk of them of late. I don't want bad luck brought down upon us.”

  Her father grunted as he pulled on a stubborn boot. “True enough I suppose, but no Corscan soldier is ever going to touch either of you girls while I live.”

  “No Corscan soldiers have been seen in these parts for nearly a hundred years,” Lairk said dismissively as he eyed the eggs in the pan with trepidation. “They're not a concern to anyone and even if they were a concern, we could always threaten them with Lara's cooking.” Elara stuck her tongue out at her brother who grinned in response.

  “The merchant who came through the town last week disagreed,” her mother said, shaking her graying head. “They said they have a new king who is ambitious.”

  “You listen to too many merchants,” her father said, grabbing a rough wooden plate from nearby. “Hurry up with that food, girl. I have fields to take care of.”

  “The eggs cook when they cook,” Elara reminded him as she slithered some of the eggs on the plate. It looked like an odd mix of running egg and charred blackness.

  “Aye, they do, but the fields won't take care of themselves,” her father said as she slipped the eggs onto his plate. “There's my girl. Stay out of trouble today.” He quickly ate the eggs without complaint and left the house followed by her brother.

  “Best get to the baking,” her mother said once they were gone. “It's late, but if we don't start now it won't get done at all.”

  “Yes, ma'am.”

  Elara carefully carried the basket of food out towards the fields where she knew her father and brother were working. She saw several other women doing the same thing. The families with younger children had delegated the chore to them.

  It took Elara several minutes to find her father and brother in the large field. Her brother looked relieved at the sight of her.

  “Not a minute too soon, Lara,” Lairk told her, eyeing the basket. “I'm famished.”

  “How's the crop?” Elara asked as he looked at the corn around them.

  “Small,” her father told her. “Let's head for shade to eat this.”

  Elara obediently followed her father and brother over to the edge of the cleared land. Thick trees with broad leaves lined the field. Other men were already reclining in the shade enjoying their lunches.

  “Let's see what you've brought us today,” her father said carefully looking inside the basket.

  “We baked this morning,” Elara informed him.

  “What is that stench?” a pleasant voice asked from nearby as her father opened the basket. Elara flushed in embarrassment as both her father and brother looked up at Lessie who had walked over to them carrying a basket of food. “Don't tell me you tried to bake again.”

  “Her baking is fine enough,” Elara's father said, pulling the charred bread from the basket. Elara felt so embarrassed and ashamed she couldn't even look at Lessie. Lessie was tall and blond. Not only that, she was reputed to be an excellent cook.

  “I brought you something, Lairk,” Lessie told Elara's brother with a sunny smile that Lairk returned. “I thought you might be hungry, considering your sister's cooking.” Lessie reached into her basket and pulled out a small pie that fit easily into the palm of one of Lairk's hands.

  “Thank you, Lessie,” Lairk said, looking at the pie hungrily. “It looks and smells wonderful.”

  “You're welcome,” Lessie said in the same sweet tone. Elara scowled and walked back down the path to her small house. She hated Lessie and her frequent slight comments about everything Elara did.

  Elara didn't say anything when she reentered her small home. She walked over to where her mother was already starting to prepare dinner. Elara started cutting up the vegetables they need. The poor carrots didn't know what was coming and neither did Elara's finger which she promptly cut. She glared at the knife and set it down.

  “What's got you in such a bad temper?” her mother asked her, not looking up from her own work.

  “Lessie was showing off again to Lairk,” Elara told her mother irritably and instantly wished she had kept her mouth shut.

  “I don't see why you can't like Lessie like everyo
ne else. She's never done anything to you,” her mother told her irritably.

  “Never done anything to me?” Elara objected despite herself. “She embarrasses me every chance she gets! She's always pointing out what I do wrong and…”

  “You're not good at very many things, Elara,” her mother reminded her. “Maybe you should work on improving yourself rather than taking it out on poor Lessie.”

  Elara wanted to reply but bit her tongue. There was no point arguing. Lessie was the daughter of her mother's closest friend. Her mother would never see anything wrong with Lessie's behavior. Elara picked up the knife again and continued cutting the carrots. She kept her face tightly clenched so she wouldn't cry.

  Elara was exhausted after working in the kitchen all day. She had not gone outside all day and she regretted missing one of the last beautiful days of summer. Being inside the kitchen was hot, hard work and she felt covered in ash, sweat, and flour. She found herself wishing she could work in the fields with her father and brother. She envied their outside chores that allowed them to enjoy such a day. She stole a glance out the window to see the younger children catching fireflies in the early evening.

  “Stop day dreaming,” her mother scolded her. “We have enough to do without you drifting off to nowhere. Your father and brother should be home soon and they'll be hungry.”

  “They always are,” Elara said a bit more bitterly than she intended.

  “Mind your tone,” her mother snapped and gave her an irritable glare. “And be grateful for the food that we can put on the table. Not every serf can claim they have so much to eat.”

  “Sorry,” Elara mumbled by way of apology. “I just wish I could be outside too. The summer is almost gone.”

  “Then be thankful your chores keep you inside where you will be kept warm during the winter.”

  “Yes, mother,” Elara said with a sigh. She wasn't looking forward to the biting winter that would come too soon for its own good. Particularly not if Lessie insisted on spending so much time with Lairk again. Most of the village loved Lessie, but Elara thought Lessie was far too conscious of how pretty and perfect she was. Elara would never understand what Lairk and the other men saw in the girl.

  Her father and brother walked in at that instant. Her father stretched and declared, “Ah, I'm bushed! What have you two lovely ladies made for dinner?”

  “Stew,” her mother said crisply. “And burnt bread.”

  “Burnt, aye?” Lairk asked, giving Elara smirk. “I know who was responsible for it then. Bread is always burnt when Elara is in charge of it.”

  “I'd like to see you do any better, Lairk,” Elara said, glaring at him with her hands on her hips.

  Lairk grinned. “I don't need to, but you do. How are you ever going to catch a husband if you can't even bake bread? You've been ogling Recher, but you'll need to do more than that if you want his attention. Lessie brought him berry bread in the field earlier. That definitely caught his attention.”

  Elara put conscious effort into not blushing as she responded to her brother. “I don't care what Lessie is feeding Recher.”

  “And here I thought you put his favorite flowers in your hair to attract his attention the other day,” Lairk said with an even broader grin as he settled into his chair at the table.

  “Lairk! I ought to…” Elara began threateningly picking up the large wooden spoon from the table.

  Her father laughed, a big booming laugh. “She has to work on more than her cooking if she wants Recher's attention. She'll need to watch that tongue of hers. Recher doesn't care for outspoken women and I don't know of any more outspoken than our Lara.”

  “Yes, and Lairk will have to try to be more than a big, lumbering oaf if he wants Lessie to even look at him. Last I knew, she preferred men who have at least a small amount of sense in their head.”

  “Elara!” her mother snapped. “Enough of this. Go to bed this instant.”

  “But…”Elara began startled by her mother's reaction. Lairk and her always teased each other. She didn't know why her mother was so angry.

  “Now!”

  Elara knew better than to argue, but could not hold back tears as she went back to her room crying.

  Elara had nothing to say to her mother the following morning and silently followed her instructions. She did not respond to Lairk's morning banter and he left the house without a smile. Her mother had nothing to say to her except to direct her in her chores or to criticize her efforts. Elara was definitely tired of being indoors and excused herself early from dinner that night to keep herself from saying something she shouldn't.

  Things were still a bit tense the following morning when there came a knock on the door. It happened just before her father and brother left for the fields that day. Elara was just beginning to wash the dishes as her father opened the door. He stepped back instantly and fell into a low bow Elara had rarely seen him use.

  “I need you and your family outside at once,” a commanding and familiar voice instructed. Elara felt herself pale as she recognized the voice. The lord who owned their village rarely visited and his visits typically meant something was very wrong. Every villager dreaded seeing him.

  Elara and the rest of her family obediently walked outside, abandoning whatever they had been working on. The local lord was sitting astride a fine brown horse with an embroidered saddle that clearly indicated his rank. His fine clothes were a vibrant green that was the color of his house. A deer sharpening its hooves on a large rock was embroidered on the front of his tunic, her understanding was that was the symbol of his house. Two guards were on horseback beside him and another was off his horse at their door.

  Elara knelt beside her mother. She looked at the ground respectfully and hoped no one could hear her pounding heart. “You are Samir?” the lord asked in an arrogant and cool voice.

  “Yes, my lord,” her father replied simply.

  “Your son, he is Lairk?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “I have a job for you and your son,” the lord said as he surveyed them with a slight sneer of distaste. He brought a handkerchief to his nose. “Due to the recent uneasiness near the border I am short soldiers. I am in need of men to help escort my daughter, the Lady Elisame to Norval. I have heard you and your son might fill that need. Looking at you, I feel you do. You will report to the keep tomorrow morning before sunrise. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, my lord,” her father said, sounding surprised and dutiful. “May I…address you, my lord?”

  “Be brief.”

  “Me and my boy are needed on the farm. We do much of the work. The fields may suffer without us and my family may find it more difficult to meet our taxes.”

  The lord did not immediately respond and every passing second made them all more uneasy. Elara hoped and prayed their lord would not be angry with them for her father's honest comment. “I will consider the services granted during this added duty the equivalent of your taxes.” The lord's eyes fell on her then and Elara stared even harder at the ground. She would not say anything or do anything that would offend the lord. She would just stare at the ground.

  “Your daughter looks to be the same age as mine. My daughter's maid recently became ill. Elisame will need someone to keep her company on the trip and also tend to her needs. Your daughter will serve in that capacity.”

  “As you command, my lord,” her father agreed.

  “Be at the keep in the morning,” the lord reminded them again and then promptly rode off.

  Her father let out an explosively sigh of relief when the lord was out of sight. “What a mess this is! We have to go all the way to the capital just to make sure some spoiled girl doesn't get into any trouble. Bah! What a waste!”

  “At least she probably won't talk to you,” Elara said sourly. Everyone had heard stories of how arrogant and spoiled the daughter of their lord was. The trip was not going to be pleasant.

  “Lord Westor paid you a compliment by asking you to be his daughter
's maid,” her mother reminded her sharply. “Don't be ungrateful.”

  “How can it be a compliment when he didn't even know who I was? I'm convenient nothing more.”

  “Enough arguing. Let's take care of what we must so we can get through this trip in good shape.”

  The stone walls of the keep were imposing and Elara felt intimidated and worthless every time she laid eyes on it. It had been built a hundred years earlier and had been a place of protection against bandits and raiding parties ever since. Twenty feet up she could see soldiers pacing along the wall, keeping watch over the surrounding farm land.

  Elara stayed near her brother and father as they passed under the large gate. The sharp, black, iron points of the portcullis gate looked intimidating above them. There were soldiers preparing horses in the dirt courtyard of the keep. Elara noted there were not as many soldiers around as she had seen in previous trips to the keep. A soldier noticed their approach at once.

  “Are you the serfs the lord got to help out?” the soldier asked, looking at them critically.

  “Yes,” her father said simply.

  The soldier looked them over briefly and then grunted. “You'll do. I'd rather you had some training, but I guess you're as good as it gets at the present moment. With any luck we shouldn't have any trouble. We just have to hope the Corscans don't decide to take notice of us. Let’s get you suited up so we can head out.”

  Elara could only watch as her brother and father were given the briefest of training on their weapons and armor. She hoped it would be knowledge they wouldn't need. The training was so quick that Elara wondered if it could truly be good enough to make her father and brother as effective as the normal soldiers going with them.

  It was an hour after sunrise when their lord came out of the keep followed by his daughter. Elara had never seen Lady Elisa before and was instantly unimpressed. It was not her appearance that failed to impress, but her manners. She seemed to look down on everything she saw. Elara thought it was fortunate her nose was a bit pointed or she never would have seen beyond it. Lady Elisa's dislike for Elara appeared to be almost instantaneous.