by Susan Wright
The four eldest slaves and I were bathed before the evening meal. Canille washed my hair herself, humming a haunting tune under her breath. I had grown accustomed to her gentle hands and no longer feared she would strike me.
I could only hope Canille regretted sending her slaves to Stanbulin. Certainly she sighed a great deal and was wistful even when Bene coaxed her to smile. The others didn’t seem to suspect anything.
While the formal meal was served below, I went to the privy and used the chance to sneak into Canille’s chamber. It was an airy room layered with embroidered pillows and drapes. I searched quickly and found a casket that held her jewels concealed within the window seat.
As my hands closed around the casket, a pang of guilt shot through me. I was no thief! But Canille was robbing these slaves of their lives, and the fortune they could get for these jewels would establish them elsewhere. I could imagine Vanais owning her own shop, ruling over it with an iron fist. Bene could travel and see all the exotic places he longed for.
I stashed the casket in a niche at the head of the staircase. It fit snugly next to a statue, so I was sure that it would escape notice for a while.
Then I returned to our attic chamber and waited anxiously for the slaves who were serving the meal to return. If any were taken to pleasure the master and mistress tonight, they would have to be left behind. I would use the help of the olfs to get them out later.
But they all returned, bringing with them a burst of talk and laughter as they undressed and slid under their blankets. I stayed near the door where the candle cast the brightest glow. Quietly, I called for silence. "Please listen to me one last time."
Some of them turned over or sat up at my announcement. Others ignored me.
"You’ve never truly understood," I continued. "You think that pain and suffering can never happen to you—"
"Our master and mistress have always been kind," Vanais interrupted, pushing aside her blanket.
I faced Vanais down. "They’ve lied to you. Slaves don’t become companions to emperors and queens. A ship has come to take you away, to a place called Saaladet in Stanbulin. Dreadful things will be forced on you—rape and torture. They’ll even make you hurt others. They’ll use you until your spirit breaks—"
Vanais leaped to her feet, her face twisted. "You mustn’t speak that way!" Several of the others were protesting as well.
Bene finally spoke up, "But the ship has come. I saw the messenger myself. Our training is complete and in the morning we shall leave."
The others were surprised, but Vanais protested. "Surely you don’t believe these wild tales, Bene? Torture and rape, bah!"
His voice was low. "You wouldn’t scoff if it had happened to you, Vanais. Perhaps you have yet to discover that not everyone is as kind as our masters . . ."
His somber expression, so unlike Bene, struck everyone. Now they were listening.
"You can have everything you desire if you come with me," I told them. "No one will be able to hurt you. You can do as you want, when you want, when you’re free, like I am."
Vanais gasped out loud. "You should be punished! I’m getting our mistress."
She approached me, but I blocked her from going through the door. It was like pushing against a bundle of dry sticks. Vanais was unpleasant to rut with, the one time we had been paired in training. All I could feel were the bones beneath her taut skin.
"I have money," I insisted. "A great wealth, enough for you all to prosper. I can show you how. We can find a place even better than this. You only have to follow me."
Vanais tried to struggle past me again, but I pushed her away. She went down on her knees, scraping them in her awkward fall. Her outraged look pained me.
"You’re leaving Montplaire?" Bene asked.
"Yes, this very moment."
Their frightened, angry expressions spoke louder than words. "We’d die on the streets," one girl protested, while a boy agreed. "They’ll catch you if you try." Two of the younger girls pulled their blankets over their heads as if they couldn’t bear to hear such disobedience.
"Come with me, Bene," I urged, hoping if he agreed that the others would follow.
He joined me by the door. "Are you serious?"
"Dead serious," I said flatly.
Vanais was furious. "You can’t go anywhere!" she demanded, her voice rising.
That was the wrong thing to say to Bene. He was rebellious by nature, and only the plush surroundings had lured him into obedience. "I do what I want," he said flatly.
"You can’t!" she shrilled. "You belong to our masters."
"Claim the life you dreamed of when you came here," I called to the others as Bene quickly donned his tunic and leggings, tying on his boots. "You can be free—"
But their clamoring cut me off, denying my words. Others were rising to help Vanais. She struggled with me at the door and I was hard-pressed to keep her inside.
Suddenly Vanais slipped away and twisted past me. She flung the door open and started to the stairs, blind in the darkness.
I grabbed Bene’s hand. "Hurry!"
We followed down the stairs right on Vanais’ heels. She was crying out for the master and mistress, but she hesitated in the archway leading to their chambers. She was too good a slave to go where she didn’t have permission.
I ran past her, flying down the steps with the olfs’ light to guide me. But Bene dragged at my arm, patting the wall to feel his way.
Suddenly I remembered the casket upstairs in the niche. Vanais was screaming to raise the entire house, and candlelight was flaring. I grabbed two mantles, thrusting one into Bene’s arms. We ran out the side door as Etien’s voice boomed out, "What is this?"
Outside, we paused on the gravel drive. "Now what?" Bene asked breathlessly.
"This way," I said much more confidently than I felt.
We struck off down the lane through the meadows. Canille would organize her freemen to search for us. Hopefully they would assume we had bolted into the Twelve Towns. But at the junction, Bene and I crossed over like cats in the dark, heading away from Lutece, as far from Montplaire as we could get.
14
Perhaps it would have served better to speak with each slave alone rather than all together. But even then I doubted my ability to persuade. When I was in training at Vidaris, nobody could have convinced me to abandon my master. Only Lexander could have sent me away as he did.
At least I had gotten Bene out.
We ran down the frosty road, trailing clouds with every breath. A handful of olfs followed along with us, lighting the countryside as bright as day for me. They loved the excitement.
"We’re heading away from the river, aren’t we?" I asked. The waterway was so serpentine that most roads didn’t follow it.
Bene gave me an incredulous look that he didn’t think I could see. "You don’t know?"
I tried to remember the maps Etien showed us during the geography lessons, but I couldn’t be sure. "We don’t have time for games, Bene," I warned.
Chastised, he replied, "Yes, we’re heading toward the rising sun."
I would rather have been going downriver, but that meant we would have to pass by Montplaire and the rest of the twelve towns. At least this direction was not as obvious.
I pushed myself at a great pace, refusing to stop to rest. Bene was in the flower of youth and he easily kept up with me, though he stumbled in the dark and swore occasionally.
The road was deserted, so when I heard a horse approaching from behind, I dragged Bene over a hedge and hunkered down in the mud. The horse’s pace was a brisk trot, and the man had a lantern in one hand.
Bene froze. "The dog—" he started to murmur.
A mastiff hound began to bark, digging into the hedge on the other side. His baying alerted the man on the horse, who swung his lantern toward us.
"Run!" I grabbed Bene’s hand and pulled him across the meadow away from the road.
We ran down the sharp incline, saved from being immed
iately savaged by the dog because of the thick hedge. But I knew it would get through soon enough.
At the bottom of the hill was a creek. I splashed into it and tugged Bene along over the rocks. He fell in, and then I slipped and wet my wool leggings to my hips. But I continued on, begging the water sprites to prevent the dog from smelling us.
We had no breath for talking as we struggled on. The creek splashed around us. The trees arching overhead cut off the faint moonshine, and I was grateful to the olfs for their light. There was no sound of pursuit by the dog or freeman.
When we had gone far upstream and my entire body was numb and shaking, we climbed out. But I wouldn’t let Bene collapse on the ground. We had to keep moving. "They know where we are," I reminded him.
He was gasping from the exertion. "If I were still a slave, I’d be warm in my bed right now."
"We’re not free yet," was all I could say through my chattering teeth.
We avoided several villages so we wouldn’t been seen. There must have been a search party of freemen blanketing the area. We couldn’t double back to the river, so I pushed us ever farther east. We lost one olf, and then as the sky began to brighten, the others disappeared, returning to the Montplaire pleasure house.
At sunrise we stumbled on a road. I wasn’t sure if it came from the Twelve Towns, but Bene couldn’t be dragged across the fields of dead stubble anymore. He managed to keep going, putting one foot stubbornly in front of the other as we plodded down the road. I wished we could stop in a barn somewhere to sleep, but I was afraid the manor folk would catch up to us.
More people began moving about, and every hoof-beat and shout could have heralded our doom. Bene and I pulled our mantles far over our faces. Splashed in mud and worse, we looked like a couple of day laborers. In my tunic and leggings, I was taken for a young man rather than a woman.
Bene and I paused by a stream to drink our fill. "Let’s use some of your riches to get food and a place to sleep in the next village," Bene suggested. "We shouldn’t be on the road where they can find us."
I sighed. "I’m sorry to say that I didn’t fetch the casket. I left it behind."
Bene sat down hard on the ground. "You mean . . . we have nothing?"
"Don’t worry," I quickly assured him. If Bene gave up, we would surely be caught. "I’ve found that coins are not always necessary."
"No? I’ve always found that the destitute starve." He shook his head as if reconsidering his decision to come with me. "How could you leave a fortune behind?"
"I was trying to save the other slaves. I didn’t expect Vanais to raise the house. And in the rush to get out . . . I didn’t think of it until it was too late." I hardened my tone. "But anything is better than being sent to Stanbulin, believe me. You’re not meant to be a slave, Bene. Under any other master I’ve known, you’d have been beaten and punished until that wild nature of yours was broken."
Bene still refused to look at me. I had to pull him back to his feet, urging him onward. As we started down the road I began considering the men who passed by, wondering if I could proposition them for food. That would certainly improve Bene’s outlook. But everyone looked as downtrodden and hungry as we.
Town walls rose in the valley ahead, nestled among the trees. We chanced discovery by going inside, hoping to barter for food.
Bene roused himself somewhat as we went under the arch in the wall, with the gates opened wide. A fat six-sided tower rose nearby with a parapet at the top. Two men gazed down on the surrounding countryside. Inside the walls, the twisty mud lanes were lined with stone and timber structures.
I followed the flow of people to the market. The busy square was swarming with people and spirits alike, as was the burial yard next to the Kristna sanctuary.
I shuddered at the sight, remembering how the bishop had killed Olvid. She had never harmed anyone, wanting only to be left alone to commune with her beloved olfs. I clung to Bene’s hand tighter. I had failed to save Olvid, just as I had failed to convince the other slaves of Montplaire to escape.
Everything I’d said to the slaves would be relayed to Canille, and she would tell her superiors in Stanbulin about me. But I hoped they would continue to believe I was a Becksbury slave. Knowing Ukerald, my vehemence about torture and abuse would surely be understandable.
Then I caught sight of two freemen astride small horses typically used to pull carts. They were searching through the crowd in the market, looking at everyone’s faces.
"I think those are Montplaire freemen." I led Bene behind booths and carts to avoid them.
We circled near the sanctuary. A cleric was standing on the porch with his arms raised over a group of people gathered below. Some were seated on mules, while others stood stoically holding long staffs. A few were well and fashionably dressed, but most wore long robes flowing down to their feet and cowls that covered their heads and shoulders that I had come to associate with followers of Kristna. They were surrounded by curious townsfolk.
Though the spirit of Kristna was flowing amongst the followers, I pushed deeper into the crowd. Bene kept glancing behind us, watching for our pursuers. The cleric was praying to Kristna to protect the peregrini before him, and to take his blessings with them on their journey. The peregrini raised their staffs in acknowledgment. With a lot of elaborate words in the vein of "go and be safe," the cleric finished with a flourish.
I was busy looking for the freemen from Montplaire, but the crowd shifted and moved. The townsfolk bid friends and relatives farewell and began to disperse as nine or ten travelers carrying their staffs headed out of the market square.
I pulled Bene into their midst, keeping far away from the searching freemen. Two women on mules provided the perfect cover when one beast kept shaking its head, frightening its rider.
"I’ll guide him for you," I offered, putting a firm hand on the mule’s neck. The poor animal didn’t like the rider’s uncertain seat. The mule calmed under my touch.
The girl on his back was very grateful. "Bless you, my dear," she told me, though I was surely older than she. "You shall be rewarded for your aid."
Bene followed behind me as we walked by the Montplaire freemen. They didn’t bother to glance at the peregrini.
As we passed through the lanes back to the gate, I gave up hope of getting any food in town. It wasn’t safe with the freemen looking for us.
So we continued on with the peregrini, going farther away from the great river. Though fatigue and hunger made my head spin, I was no longer worried that we would be discovered. We were well concealed in the midst of the peregrini. Some of them prayed as they walked, their staffs striking the ground with determined thuds. Others sang ordinary songs and stopped to wet their tongues with beer when we passed through a crossroads village.
Bene and I were saved when bread was handed to each of us at a modest sanctuary. The peregrini sat down to make a meal of it with fresh water from the well. Some of them had abundant coins in their fat purses, but they took what was freely offered.
"Why do they give us food?" I asked the girl whose mule I had continued to lead.
"It’s decreed that all sanctuaries must help us on our way," she replied in a high-pitched, childish voice. I had discovered that one of the men on foot was her husband. "We traveled for three days to meet up with your group. Not many leave this time of year."
"And where are you going?" I asked.
"All the way to Ditalia. Surely you’ll not be satisfied by the relics along the way? We must see the Holy City where Kristna rules."
Kristna followers claimed their god was cast in an earthly form, and I wondered if he walked among them in his city. But I was not eager to witness it myself. I had trouble enough with Lexander, a mere godling.
After Bene and I had eaten our fill, I considered leaving the peregrini. I wasn’t comfortable in the midst of the Kristna followers, and I missed the olfs, who were avoiding the band of travelers. But we were safely hidden and were moving farther away from Montplaire.
So I continued on with them.
Bene and I were fortunate that the days were short. As the sun lowered, we filed through the gates of a sanctuary compound and were shown up a ladder into a loft in the barn. There were mattresses stuffed with straw laid on the wooden slats. It was warm because of the animals below.
Bene fell asleep with crumbs of our evening ration of cheese clinging to his mouth. I snuggled up next to him for warmth, feeling as protective as a mother hen.
When I awoke refreshed the next morning, the peregrini began to stir. We received a bounty of hard bread from the cleric who tended the sanctuary.
It was difficult to feel victorious when we had barely escaped. It was already too late for Vanais and the other slaves who had been sent to Stanbulin on the ship.
"I had hoped to return to Montplaire," I told Bene. "To convince the other slaves to come with us."
"Sure, take me back to Montplaire. I’ll stay there." He knocked the hard bread against the post in emphasis. "I only left because you said you were rich."
By his tone, he meant it. But I decided not to take his grumbling seriously unless he started walking back to Montplaire.
"We can’t go back right now," I said. In truth, Montplaire would be fortified after our escape and the near theft of Canille’s jewels. "We’ll have to wait for a while until they let their guard down again."
"First you need to figure out how to convince the slaves to come with you," Bene told me. "Don’t expect me to say this is better."
With Montplaire out of the question, the only other pleasure house I knew of was in Veneto, where Lexander had once been master. Doubtless he would take particular satisfaction in destroying it, like he did with Vidaris. Perhaps vengeance had driven him there after he had left me behind. In his current rage, he could even have gone straight to Stanbulin to directly challenge his people. But surely that would be suicide.
I wished I could be more hopeful that Lexander would free the slaves when he brought down a pleasure house, but I had serious doubts after Becksbury. Even one life saved, like Bene, was worth any price I had to pay.