by Kel Kade
She lifted her chin and said, “My name is Arissa. I am a lady’s maid … was a lady’s maid. I was let go when something went missing. They thought I stole it.”
With a quirk of her brow, the woman said, “Did you?”
“No, of course not,” Ilanet said earnestly.
Grebella smirked and then turned to study the stranger. Her eyes remained on him while she spoke to Ilanet. “You may be a decent liar, girl, but Roy here ain’t. He’s a sweet boy,” she said as she patted his cheek, “and he’s got guilt written all over him.”
Ilanet frowned when she looked at the stranger. He did look guilty. He glanced up at her and flushed as he looked away. Why was he doing that? Why he was intentionally compromising the story?
The woman looked back at Ilanet through narrowed eyes and said to the stranger, “Roy, be a dear, and go fetch us some water.”
Ilanet glanced around and saw no use for water at that moment, but the stranger ducked out of the door in a hurry. Grebella sauntered toward her, and Ilanet was frustrated that she had to look up at the woman. At the castle, no woman would dare stand over her in such a way.
“What is it? Yer runnin’ away from someone? Don’t like the rules at home and thought ya’d make it better out here? Yer better off goin’ back to yer daddy’s table if ya want handouts.”
“No, I cannot,” she pleaded.
The thought of going back to the castle and facing her father or even Prince Nyan terrified her. It must have shown in her eyes because Grebella’s gaze softened.
“No, I see that ya can’t. But I’ll say this. That boy’s smitten with you, an’ we both know a girl like you ain’t interested in a sweet, homely boy like him. He’s handsome enough, but he ain’t never gonna give ya the kinda life yer daddy did.”
With a shudder, Ilanet said, “He has already given me the life my father tried to take.”
Grebella shook her head. “You see him as some kinda savior now, but you’ll jus’ be stringin’ him along ’til ya find someone ya think is better. A boy like that don’t deserve to get his heart broken, and he don’t deserve whatever yer daddy’ll be sendin’ after ya. You get him hurt or killed, and I’ll be sendin’ my own people after ya.”
Ilanet shook her head vigorously. “No, I do not believe my father is sending anyone after me. Besides, no one saw us together.” Except the assassin, she thought but felt it better to exclude that bit. She had to trust that the stranger had, in fact, somehow come to an agreement with her father. Now, she wondered at the details of that agreement. “Just … tell no one that I am here, and there will be no problems,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant.
Grebella was about to respond when the stranger reappeared at the door with a pail of water. He placed it by the door and then stared at Ilanet longingly, so much so that she felt herself flush. He glanced toward Grebella for only a second and then dropped his gaze to the floor. The depth of communication in that silence had even Ilanet feeling a strange need to comfort him.
Grebella’s stern exterior fell away, and she said softly, “Oh, Roy, you said ya wouldn’t be bringin’ me no trouble.”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and glanced up with squinty eyes, “Ain’t no trouble, ma’am. Just a girl.”
The woman tisked. “That’s the worst kinda trouble fer a boy like you.” With a heavy sigh, she said, “Alright, Roy. Jus’ fer you, though. I know you’ll be leavin’ soon, and you’ll be takin’ her with ya.”
The stranger glanced at Grebella and said, “Yes, ma’am, if’n she wants. I got some money I can give ya ta keep her fer now.”
Grebella smiled. It was a genuine smile that Ilanet thought made the woman appear ten years younger. “You keep yer money. I think ye’ll be needin’ it. We got a spare room ain’t bein’ used right now. I’ll see it’s cleaned.”
The madam left, and a moment later Tiani reappeared looking quite ruffled. Ilanet blushed at the implication.
“What was that all about?” she asked. “Took long enough.”
Rella stopped in her work and said, “I’m tellin’ ya, I ain’t never seen that woman so protective of nobody. She about stuffed that one”—she motioned with a flour-dusted hand at Roy—“into her nest and aint’ never gonna let him out!”
Tiani’s eyes roved over the stranger, and she said lasciviously, “If I had him in my nest, I wouldn’t let him out neither.” The women burst into hearty laughter as the stranger flushed and ducked out the door. Tiani called after him, “Come on, Roy, I’s jus’ playin’ with ya!”
Ilanet’s eyes widened in surprise. She had never heard women make such lewd remarks. They both smiled and looked at her teasingly as they went about their business in the kitchen. Ilanet tentatively waved after the stranger and asked, “Have you … um ...”
Tiani giggled and said, “I think maybe yer likin’ him a bit, ain’t ya?”
Ilanet lifted her chin and denied it, as was proper. “No. He and I, we are not involved in that way.”
“Mmhmm,” Tiani hummed. “Sweetheart, ya ain’t gotta worry ’bout that. When he came here, he made it clear he ain’t wantin’ of our wares, if ya know what I mean,” she said with a wink.
Rella added, “Ya ask me, it ain’t healthy fer a young man like that to be keepin’ it to himself.”
Tiani said, “Could be he has a wife. Ya know some men don’t stray like the others.”
“Nah,” said Rella. “I seen the way he was lookin’ at Sweetie here. He wouldn’t be turnin’ none of that down if she was offerin’.”
Tiani nodded. “I ain’t gonna argue with that.”
Ilanet was at a loss for words. This whole conversation was beyond anything in her experience. Worse yet, she knew that everything she had witnessed of the stranger had been an act, so these women were leading her thoughts astray for naught. She was saved from further humiliation when Grebella returned, beckoning her toward the stairs.
The madam led Ilanet to an unoccupied bedroom while she tried to close her ears to the sounds emanating from the others. The room was small and most of it was occupied by the bed. She tried harder not to think of the things that happened in that bed.
Grebella smiled knowingly and said, “Ya ain’t been with a man yet, have ya?”
Ilanet looked away and said, “No, I am only sixteen and not yet wed.”
The woman laughed. “I knew ya was highborn. Commoners be marryin’ at fifteen, sixteen. Girls’ folks are wantin’ them gone—less mouths to feed.”
“But what if you are not ready?” Ilanet asked, unable to hide her fear.
Grebella shrugged. “What’s there to be ready fer? Ya cook, ya clean, ya make babies. Unless ya got some special skill or the talent, don’t nobody care if ya can do nothin’ else.”
Ilanet was appalled, but in truth, it did not sound that different from what her father expected of her … except for the cooking and cleaning.
“Ya don’t got the talent, do ya?” Grebella asked hopefully.
“No, not yet, at least,” Ilanet admitted with longing.
“I s’pose at yer age you’ve still got time to hope. We all did. Ain’t no other way to get outta this life anyhow. Still, we’ve got somthin’ the married women ain’t got. We got our independence. Ain’t no men ’round to tell us what we should do or when to do it. Ain’t nobody tellin’ us what to spend our money on or how to dress. Course we gotta keep with the business.” She said the last with a wink and a tug at her corset.
“But you have to … you know … with strange men,” Ilanet said with trepidation.
“I’d be givin’ it to a man anyhow, be it a husband or a caller. Besides, what if the one yer stuck with ain’t no good?” she asked.
“I do not understand,” Ilanet said hesitantly. “It is just … what it is. You … um … do it, and then you are done.”
Grebella laughed. “Oh, my sweet, no. Don’t ya be fooled by those men with the money and power. If yer man ain’t pleasin’ ya, ain’t no reason to keep with hi
m—unless yer like me and he’s payin’ ya, I s’pose. No, you want a sweet one like Roy.” The woman’s gaze turned sad and distant. Her next words were barely above a whisper. “A boy like that wants nothin’ more than to keep his girl happy.”
Ilanet was sure that Grebella knew what she was talking about, since she seemed to be an expert on the subject. The problem was that Grebella did not know who Roy really was. For that matter, neither did Ilanet. She did know that he was anything but a sweet boy.
The woman misinterpreted Ilanet’s doubtful look. “Now, I ain’t sayin’ ya should be like us. Ain’t nobody want this kinda life. I was jus’ lookin’ fer an upside.” She laughed again. “That’s one thing ’bout bein’ at the bottom. There’s always upsides all around ya.”
Ilanet smiled. The woman was crude and vulgar, but she liked her anyway. She placed the single bag she had been permitted on the small dressing table opposite the foot of the bed. She eyed the bed with concern, and Grebella took notice.
“Don’t you worry, Sweetie. The straw’s been replaced, and the linens are clean. Ya ain’t gonna catch nothin’ here. We ain’t got much, but we try to keep nice the things we do. Don’t have none of those fancy indoor privies, so you’ll have to use the chamber pot. And, ya know Roy was nice enough to bring ya in a pail of water fer your pitcher.” Grebella finished with a wink.
The woman stepped closer, her expression earnest. “Now, I got one last thing to say ’bout that boy, and then I’m done with it.” She reached out and stroked a caramel lock that had fallen from beneath Ilanet’s hat. “Yer a pretty girl from a wealthy family. Truth is, yer far above his station, and he knows it. Shy boys like him, they don’t tell ya when they love ya, ’specially if they think yer too good fer ’em. Take my advice. If you want that boy, you tell him and don’t let him make excuses. Sometimes a woman’s got to do the pursuin’.”
Grebella bid her goodnight and then left, closing the door behind her. Ilanet hurried to place the bar, and then she closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the sturdy wood.
“Are you well?” a deep voice sounded from behind her.
She jumped and nearly screamed but managed to restrain herself before she lashed out at the stranger. He was in the room with her, and she was certain he had not been there when she had arrived. She realized he must have come in through the open window, a reminder that he was not the simpleton he pretended to be.
“Yes, but you nearly frightened me unto death,” she said as she held a hand over her racing heart.
The stranger stood at the other side of the small room with the bed between them, and still it felt too close.
He bowed, and said, “I apologize for any distress I have caused you. I only meant to see to your well-being and inform you of my plans for the morrow.”
Now she was even more confused. He was still dressed as the dimwitted traveler, but he was not acting like the ruthless assassin she had met earlier. His mannerisms and speech were gracious and possessed a familiarity of courtliness that put her at ease but was incongruent with the present setting.
“I am a bit overwhelmed, but I will manage. It is better than the alternative,” she said.
He stared at her as she tried to hold her emotions together. Throughout the night, she had been reacting to the threat of death, struggling to survive and making quick judgments and decisions. Now that she had a place to sleep and was no longer in immediate danger, her body and mind both felt as if they would collapse.
The stranger’s voice was calm, as though he were attempting to soothe a frightened animal. “I will be gone when you wake.” Her heart abruptly battered her chest. He was going to leave her there, in a brothel. He must have seen the panic on her face, for he added, “Do not fret. I will return for you. The women of the house sleep late, and so should you. It would be best for you to remain in this room as much as possible, and avoid encountering any of the callers. You should dress as you are so as not to draw attention.”
Ilanet shook her head vigorously but found no words.
“You are afraid,” he observed.
Again, she shook her head, but she was afraid that if she tried to speak, the tears would begin to flow. She did not want this stranger to see her tears. If he saw her weakness, she would be more vulnerable.
“Is it this place or my presence?” he asked.
She swallowed and answered, “I have never been alone with a man before tonight. Even on the rare occasion when I met with my father or brothers, Mables was with me. Having you here”—she eyed the bed and wrapped her arms around herself—“in this place ...”
The man nodded and said, “I understand. I intend you no harm, and I will destroy any who dare.” He backed slowly toward the window, and she could not help the step she took to stop him. He tilted his head and looked at her curiously. “You do not wish for me to leave?”
“I-I am afraid with you here, and I am afraid to be alone,” she said, and to her dismay, her voice wavered at the end.
The stranger graced her with a beatific smile, and it felt as though a calming wave emanated from his very being. “You are not alone. I will be right out there”—he motioned with a thumb over his shoulder—“until dawn. You have but to call for me if you must.”
“But, what do I call you?” she asked.
“I told you. You may call me Roy.” He winked at her and then jumped out of the second-floor window.
She found herself smiling as she lay down to sleep.
Chapter 6
Bilior stepped up to the sacred stone that lay just within the mouth of the cave. The stone had not always been there. The ancients could only postpone human expansion for so long before they were forced to move. Most of the Ahn’an had accepted that this was the age of the humans. The human civilizations would live and grow and then fade into memory just like every other Ahn’tep race. So it had been with the eihelvenan and the darwaven and the argonts, and so it would be with the humans. The human civilizations had grown vast, though, their numbers greater than all the Ahn’tep who preceded them. Some of the Ahn’an had begun to fear.
He sent his roots into the rubbly earth of the cave floor and sought the focus of power. To him, this place was not as good as the last where the ground had been soft and welcoming. Here, his connection did not run as deep, and he could not feel the earth’s soothing cadence wrap around him so completely. Suitable convergences beyond human reach were becoming more difficult to find, though.
He shed a pile of dried leaves and twigs onto the stone and waited. A breeze swept into the cave, and as it passed, he felt Hvelia’s welcoming caress. The dust in her draught permitted him to see her form, and he smiled. Always, he was happy to see her, to feel her, for she was the loveliest of her kind. Upon her current rode the vapor of Uspiul, who dotted the floor with his moistening presence. A trickle of water from the fall at the cave mouth began to flow inward past the sacred stone. It swirled into a pool over the wet spots on the ground until it grew into a form that only vaguely represented one of the walking races.
Hvelia’s breeze rustled the twigs and leaves he had left on the stone, shuffling them together in quickening vibration until eventually a thin braid of smoke emerged. A small inferno ignited upon the stone in an instant and then was abruptly drawn into the forms of Liti and Itli. The tiny figures of flame, no larger than sparrows, danced across the stone, twirling as their arms and legs flickered about gracefully.
Ripples chased each other over Uspial’s surface as the ground shook and lurched while a pillar grew from the cave floor. The grinding stone shifted and twisted until clumps formed extremities. The clumps elongated into lustrous crystal appendages, while the head remained a bulbous mass. Two large vesicles lined with blue and white crystals composed the eyes. Goragana grinned as glimmering white and grey sickles filled the cavity of his mouth.
Many other Ahn’an swept into the depths of the cave. Far above, a large portion of the ceiling was missing, leaving the chamber open to the sparkl
ing stars that dotted the midnight sky. Towering trees grew right up to the edge of the opening, and vines and branches reached into the cave toward the ground. A few of the hardier plants had already managed to take root in the center, where the sun occasionally shone. Some of Bilior’s own were among those trees, peering down upon the gathering. He could hear their chattering and whispers, but none would approach the sacred stone. This was reserved for the ancients. Bilior’s twigs trembled with excitement.
The rush of wind, the spray of water, tremors of stone, flickers of flame, and rustles of branches and leaves filled the cavern as the colloquy commenced. The ancient Ahn’an had passed from one epoch to the next, gradually learning each other’s languages. In fact, the Hadá, who were possessed of the power of wind and air, and the Setee, who lived amongst the flames, had developed their language together and communicated most efficiently when speaking in concert.
“What news, what portent do you bring, Bilior? Will they come?” rumbled Goragana’s tremors.
The breeze and the crackling of the flames together said, “Let him speak. His chittering brings good tidings.”
Bilior bobbed up and down, his limbs creaking with anticipation. “The powers of the Ahn’tep be not as strong as once they were, but they be many.”
A flurry of commotion ensued with excitement from all. A gust and flicker said, “Gale of power lack. Spring renewal in question. Their numbers consume.”
Bilior hissed and creaked. He knew it was Hvelia’s optimism that balanced Liti and Itli’s doubts. “Conferred with the one, a deal is made. He has agreed.”
Uspial trickled and spurt. “Your message is bright. Best not be in jest, Bilior. You are ever vexing on our rivulets.”
His twigs snapped. “Nay! An army he brings, when Daem’Ahn blood sings. In turn for a fee, the defense of the we.”
Goragana rumbled. “Build first the mountain, he must, a great orogeny. Only then may the enemy fall under tromp of bounding boulders bearing sharpened ore.”