The Myatheira Chronicles: The Vor'shai: From the Ashes (Volume 1)

by Melissa Collins

  His quarters. So he did live there. Or at least had rooms in which to stay for extended periods of time. How odd that it had never been mentioned. There would be time to think about it later. If he had his own rooms, then that meant he would have access to parchment and ink. When she was well again, she would have to find a way to convince him to provide her with at least a single piece for a letter.

  The girl hurried Leyna into the room behind her, closing the door to separate them from Kael’s lingering gaze. Oriane. An interesting name for such an odd girl. Her features made it difficult to determine her age. Leyna hadn’t taken much time to learn any details about the Namiren and how they matured. While Oriane looked young, Leyna believed it was possible for her to be a fully matured adult among her people, her thin figure possibly caused by her limited nutrition and lack of physical conditioning.

  Undoing the laces of Leyna’s dress, Oriane helped to pull it up over her head, tossing it in a heap on the ground. She guided Leyna into the large bath, the steps cut into the tiled floor to create a large opening, filled with clear water. It was warm. An unexpected surprise for Leyna. She’d been prepared for the cold, her muscles relaxing at the gentle warmth of the water against her skin.

  She sank down into the bath, submerging her head under the water. Perfect. The first comforting thing she had experienced since her arrival to Siscal. It felt so long ago now, the two weeks in the cellar feeling more like two months in her mind. Lifting her head back up for air, she opened her eyes wide, refreshed by the water and sweet smell of bread surrounding her.

  If only she had food, it would make everything feel right, for once. Cleaning the floors, and whatever other chores might be asked of her, would be simple tasks if she had access to food and water. She didn’t even require a bed to sleep on. Just anything but that cold stone floor.

  “You must be the one I have heard everyone talking about.”

  Of course the girl would talk. Peace and quiet would be too much to ask so that she could enjoy this moment of bliss. “Talking about? I am far from noteworthy.”

  “The Lady Oksuva has been in fits since her sister brought you. She and Master Mikel have been fighting nearly every day about what to do with you.”

  Focus. This was an opportunity for her to find out information which might be helpful to her. She couldn’t just pass it up because she was tired and hungry. “What to do with me?” she asked. “Why would that be something which causes them such distress?”

  The girl spoke as though she was desperate for someone to talk to. Leyna had to wonder if the other slaves were allowed to socialize, or if it was a rare occasion for them to be in the same room, conversing about the personal lives of their masters. Oriane knelt down on the tiles beside the bath, keeping near to Leyna’s ear so as to not have to speak very loudly. “The master has had a Vor’shai slave woman in the past. Before he and his wife were married. She discovered he was using the slave in ways she didn’t approve of, accusing him of infidelity.”

  “He was sleeping with the slave? But that is not exactly uncommon amongst men, however disgusting it may be.”

  “She almost called off the whole marriage,” Oriane continued. “Lady Oksuva is a very jealous woman. She felt the intimacies between the slave and her husband went beyond that of a mere show of power, and that he had feelings for the Vor’shai woman. In the end, Oksuva had the slave killed as part of an agreement with Mikel to maintain their marriage contract. But it was specifically agreed upon that he would never utilize his physical rights to his slaves ever again on threat of divorce.”

  “And she thinks he will do the same with me as he did with the other?” The thought made her shudder. She’d always taken pride in the fact that she had remained pure, despite the difficulties her life had thrown in her path. It was a quality any respected lady was supposed to possess until they were married in the Tanispan custom. Her insides cringed at the fear of being taken advantage of in such a way by Mikel. The last thing she wanted was to be dishonored at his hands, or anyone else’s. Whether or not it was in the service of the Queen would make no difference to any man who might take her as his wife in the future. It would ruin her forever, leaving her to live out her life as an old maid, outcast from society.

  Being a slave would be a black mark on her reputation enough as it was. She could only hope it would be overlooked due to the reasons – or bypassed altogether because of the false name by which she was known.

  “That is what the arguing has been about. She does not trust him with you.”

  It was all too much for her to take in at once. Satisfied with her cleanliness, she made her way toward the steps, the weight of the water dripping from her body causing her to strain just to remain upright. Oriane was at her side instantly, wrapping her in the warmth of a large towel, drying the water from Leyna’s skin. For the first time, she took notice of the scars on Leyna’s back, her eyes shifting up to look at her hesitantly. “Did your last master whip you? These marks look bad…”

  “Does your master not whip you?”

  “Never me personally, no. He very rarely has used the whip on any of his slaves, unless he feels the need to make an example of them.” What a relief it was to hear that. She just had to hope Mikel didn’t feel the need to make an example of her just out of some show for his wife.

  She wished her strength was more abundant, wanting to take the towel from Oriane’s hand to cover herself with it. The girl was taking too much of an interest in the marks that marred her skin. Leyna dreaded any questions Oriane might ask in regards to the scars on the side of her abdomen and chest. Those would be much more difficult to explain, as they resembled no weapon of punishment commonly used by any slave owner.

  Stepping away from Leyna, Oriane retrieved a simple white dress from off a nearby table, similar to the garment Leyna had been wearing when she first arrived there in Dalonshire. It lacked in any decoration, the fabric thin and delicate. The neckline was lower than hers had been, but at a more dramatic angle, dipping down in the front through the center, while still covering the sides almost completely. It would hide majority of her scars from view, though the sleeves she couldn’t be sure about until it was on.

  “This should fit you well enough, for now, until we know where in the house the master will have you working. He likes to keep his slaves a bit more segregated than some other masters do.”

  The fabric of the dress was soft against her skin. Lighter than the dress she’d been wearing before. It would make the coming summer months more tolerable if she were to be working in the heat of the sun. Even during the warmest months, it would be nothing in comparison to the scorching temperatures of the Carpaen desert. This garment was more of a luxury than anything else she could have asked for.

  Tugging at the sleeves, Leyna tried to make them stretch low enough to cover the mark on her arm. There was no way she would be able to make it work without exposing the scar on her chest. Her arm seemed the lesser concern of the two. Arm it would be. If she was lucky, no one would notice it. After all, they did believe her to have been a slave before. She could simply deny comment if another servant questioned her. If Mikel or his wife confronted her – she would have to think of something else, and quickly.

  A knock at the door caught her attention. Could it be food? Kael had said something about having something brought over from the kitchen. She had never before been so excited at the thought of eating. It was amazing to think how much she’d taken food for granted prior to coming here.

  Oriane opened the door, accepting a small tray from someone in the hallway. With barely a nod to acknowledge them, she closed the door again, carrying the tray over to where Leyna was standing.

  It smelled absolutely divine. Fresh bread was set off to one side of the plate, separated from the rest of the food there. Some kind of meat had been prepared and sliced into thin, even pieces, covered in a dark gravy. Manners were the furthest thing from her mind as she picked up the utensils, quickly lifting large pi
eces of the meat into her mouth. It was like heaven to her after the scarce and tasteless meals served to her in the cellar.

  Within mere minutes she cleared every last bite from the plate, soaking up the leftover gravy with the warm bread. The water was equally as delightful. She guzzled it down until there was nothing left of it in the cup. She wanted more. Her throat was still dry from dehydration, her body craving the refreshing liquid.

  There was no chance at getting more now, but she kept her hopes that if she did everything asked of her, she may yet see another meal before the sun went down.

  “Master Kael will be angry if we keep him waiting much longer,” Oriane frowned, turning away to set the empty tray off to one side. Ah yes, Kael. She had forgotten about him in her rush to fill the aching pit in her stomach. The pain of hunger had subsided for now. All that remained was the uncomfortable dryness in her mouth.

  But she was free. No shackles bound her hands and the doors were nothing like the horrible bars of that cellar. She never wanted to see them again. It had done nothing to ease her fear of being trapped inside of dark, enclosed spaces. That cell had been no different from the chest her mother hid her away in, aside from the fact that with enough effort she had been able to free herself from the box. Still the same, in a way. It would simply take a different type of effort to keep herself out of it.

  Nodding her head, she looked herself over. For some reason it was important to her that she look presentable for Kael. What did it really matter, in the end? But it did. She couldn’t explain why. If only she could make the unsightly bruise in the middle of her face disappear before she reached his quarters.

  Her feet remained bare. They dragged along the hard floors of the house where Oriane led her through the halls, her body lacking the energy to lift them up. That would get better. With more meals like that which she had just eaten, her energy would slowly start to return. Soon enough, she would be back to her old self, and the nightmare of the last two weeks would be nothing more than a memory in the back of her mind.

  The house was larger than she thought at first, the halls twisting and turning deeper into a maze of rooms and corridors. A flight of stairs brought them to the second floor, sunlight pouring in through the windows lining the long hallway. They came to a stop outside of a large door set at the end of the hall. With a sharp rap of her knuckles against it, Oriane stepped back, waiting for a response from inside.

  Kael’s face appeared in the doorway, the hinges silent and smooth as it opened. His eyes fell on Leyna expectantly. Oh, how she wished she’d had a mirror. She knew her hair was still a tangled mass atop her head. It had been an unimportant detail next to food. The thought of asking for a brush had never crossed her mind.

  “She has been fed?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You may go now.” At his request, Oriane turned away, hurrying back down the hall the way they had come. Leyna remained there, stiffly. The unusual flutter started again in her chest and stomach. What was it about him that made her body react in such a way?

  Leading her inside the room, Kael closed the door behind them, twisting the lock into place. Her whole body was trembling. Why would he lock the door? There was no reason for secrecy if his only intent was to provide her with her orders.

  He positioned her in the center of the spacious room. Making sure she was steady enough on her own, he moved away to bring her a chair, placing it firmly on the floor in front of her. “Have a seat.”

  She did as she was told. Her legs wouldn’t have been able to hold her up much longer even if she’d wanted them to.

  Everything in the room was neatly in its own place, absent of any dust at a glance. A large desk was situated in the middle of the back wall. There on top of it she could see a stack of parchment. And quills. Ink bottles rested on a shelf behind it. All that she needed to send word to her friends was right there in front of her. But she couldn’t get to it. Not yet. Kael still couldn’t be allowed to know the truth.

  He disappeared through another door to the far right, leading deeper into his grand quarters. He was more respected amongst the family than she would have thought, given what she’d been led to believe from everyone. She couldn’t get past the idea that Kael had somehow neglected to share this information. Or could it be that it was a recent development since she’d spoken with Thade and Feolan on the matter? The items in the room looked too settled to be a recent occupation. These things had been here for some time.

  Tensing her muscles, she contemplated going to the desk, wondering if she could get to the ink and parchment before he returned. There wouldn’t be enough time to pen a letter to the Consul. She would have to wait. But it was tempting to try.

  Who was she kidding? Her legs would never hold her to make that trip, however short it may be. The desk was only a mere four or five steps away from her, but that was like a mile in her current condition. What was there to write anyway, other than some word to assure them she was alive and well? If she could be considered well. Alive. Alive was well. That would make the words feel more truthful.

  She settled back into the chair as Kael entered the room again. Something was in his hand that hadn’t been there before. A brush of some kind. She smiled in spite of herself at the sight of it. How thoughtful. It was either because he wanted to help her, or because she looked awful and he couldn’t bear to see it.

  “You are being tasked with the gardens and yards for now. This will include the stables and anything else on the property that is outside the walls of this house. Mikel’s wife prefers you remain out of sight from her indoors until she comes to terms with your presence here.” The brush hurt. Every stroke pulled painfully at the roots of her hair, ripping several strands from her head. Her eyes watered, but she refused to make any sound to give away her discomfort. “Your room has been prepared in the servants’ quarters. Is there anything which I could provide for you so as to make you more comfortable? More at home?”

  Yes. There was. But how could she ask for it? “Might I have some paper and ink?” Too direct. He was sure to question her now. What was wrong with her? If she continued in the manner she was going, her cover wouldn’t last very long. At least not with Kael.

  “That is a minor request. I expected you to require something more. Extra pillows, or a thicker blanket – why do you desire to write?”

  There it was. Just as she feared. How difficult could it be to concoct a lie about why she would want to put words on paper? Women were known for writing journals and songs. It was a sentimental thing for her gender. He couldn’t argue with her if she claimed to be so. “I like to write poetry. If I have time to do so, that is. But just knowing I would have the materials necessary… it would ease my spirits greatly.”

  “Simple enough, then. I will deliver it to your room before dinner.”

  Perfect. And to be charged with the keeping of the grounds? She couldn’t have asked for anything more convenient. She would just have to make sure no one else was near enough to her to see her by the fence at the front of the house. Oh, how she hoped Maeri was still in Dalonshire. If she was no longer there, then the letter would go unnoticed, and undelivered, leaving her trapped there with no means of getting her information to the Consul.

  But Maeri had promised her. Maeri had assured her that she would remain, no matter what, and wait for some sign from her that she was safe. How often had she already been by the massive estate, anxiously awaiting to find a letter pressed into the hole of the missing mortar between the stones? Soon. She would find one there very soon.

  He continued brushing her hair, running the thick bristles through her long black strands. The tangles had eased significantly, the number of times his strokes caught, jerking her head back, were fewer and less frequent. She felt almost normal again. Clean. Refreshed. Her confidence in her mission was growing. It would only be a matter of time before she was able to sneak in closer to Mikel and Oksuva to eavesdrop on their private affairs and plans. She would have to get Oksuva
to accept her back into the house first. There would be nothing to overhear in the gardens unless another talkative slave like Oriane happened to be at her side, with nothing better to do while pulling weeds than pass along the whispered gossip. Even that wouldn’t be so bad.

  “For today, I will have Oriane show you around outside, to where everything you will need can be found. She worked in the gardens before Mikel had her moved indoors as a maid,” he explained. “After you have become acquainted with the property, you will return to your room, where dinner will be served to you, and you will rest. Your work will begin tomorrow. It is my hope that you will be in better health by then.”

  Fresh air. It sounded too good to be true. “You are most kind, sir,” she whispered, bowing her head forward. “I will forever be in your debt.”

  The feeling of the brush against her scalp came to a halt. From the corner of her eye, she could see Kael moving around to stand in front of her, kneeling down at her feet. Gently he took her hands in his, squeezing them comfortingly. “You have no debt to me. Never feel that you do.”

  It felt unnatural to smile at him. Her lips hadn’t found occasion to express such an emotion to require it in so long. The muscles felt strained at the attempt, but it didn’t change the sincerity of the gesture. There was no doubt that she was here because of Kael. He was the reason she had been accepted by Gislan, and he had worked to see her released from the cellar. If her mission was successful, it would be because of him.

  “Wait here. I will find Oriane to have her help you. I would take you down the stairs myself, but it would look poorly on my part if Mikel or Oksuva were to witness it.” He was leaving the room again. Leyna’s eyes shifted quickly toward the desk again before settling back on Kael, hoping he hadn’t noticed her distraction. If she was careful, she could reach it. It would take him several minutes at the very least to reach the rooms where Oriane would have returned to, as well as accompanying her back to his quarters. There would be time for her to try and pen at least something, anything, to leave outside today that could let Maeri and the others know that she was safe.