Remembered

by Hazel Hunter

  The day wore on, and by ones and twos, the slaves were sold off. At first Galia tensed every time someone looked at Mina or Strayke, but then it was just too tiring. She felt entirely numb.

  Close to sunset, there was a stirring in the crowd. Galia looked up to see a small woman robed in purple making her way through the Bondage Wheel. The people parted for her, as they would a tribal chief. Some bowed deferentially. Galia was just thinking that such a woman was sure to have a bodyguard when she saw the pure white wolf trotting at the woman’s side. Before Galia could look away, the woman looked up, and their eyes met. The effect was immediate and electric. Galia felt as if her entire body had been doused in cold water. She jerked back, barely stifling a cry.

  The drover glared at her. He might even have struck her for making a fuss, but the woman in purple approached. Galia was startled to see that the woman was not nearly as old as she first appeared. Her hair was black as jet, and her brown eyes were narrow and quick. It was the haughty air that made her seem old. Instead of surveying the line of slaves, she spoke directly to Galia.

  “And what good are you?”

  “Me?”

  “Ah, but madame has chosen the finest slave of the lot,” said the drover. “A beautiful girl, and sweet tempered–”

  “When I want to hear the braying of an ass,” the woman said, “I will go to a slaughterhouse. Be silent. Your tongue is not as attached to your head as you would like to think.”

  Galia took a savage joy in the way the drover fell back.

  “Well?” the woman said.

  “I come from the northern lands,” Galia said, as clearly and as proudly as she could. “I am skilled in all matters of housework. I brew strong beer. I weave–’

  The woman looked unimpressed. “Brewing and weaving. At your price? Come, girl. What good are you?”

  Galia felt an iron spear of anger drive through her.

  “I’m the daughter of dead traders. I’m willing to work, I will not falter.”

  The woman’s gaze was ice.

  “Unimpressive. To me, you look like a ripe girl fit for the brothel. Perhaps you will be lucky, and they will buy you at the Pleasure Inn. The work is easy there. Perhaps you can find a noble who will buy you out and beget his brats on you.”

  “I don’t know what you want,” Galia said, her voice strained.

  “You could be a household drudge and brood. What would you think of that? Every year, forced to lie underneath a stud until you were made barren with weariness.”

  Galia knew that the words the woman spoke were only the truth. But a deep well of something cold opened up inside her. If she could kill with a glance, the woman would be dead ten times over.

  “I will be the death of you,” she whispered.

  The drover’s hand was around her neck, pulling her back. He shouted his apologies, promised a whipping, and said she would be sold to the lowest brothel he could find.

  Then there was a white whirlwind, and the man was off her. He lay with his back on the ground and a hundred pounds of white wolf on his chest, snarling. The woman stood in front of Galia, amused.

  “There it is,” she said, looking into Galia’s eyes with just the hint of a smile. “I would have accepted nothing less.” Shaking, Galia stared at her. “Drover, how much?”

  From underneath the wolf, the man mumbled a price. The woman didn’t even bat an eye. With a gesture, she summoned her wolf, who bounded to her side.

  “Release her and come to the palace for your money in the morning.”

  The drover didn’t even protest. As he unchained her, he muttered platitudes that didn’t even make sense.

  Galia glanced at Mina and Strayke. They stood with their eyes wide, looking at her. A longing that felt as bottomless as a canyon opened insider her. This might be the last time they saw each other.

  “Please, Lady,” she said suddenly. “Will you buy more slaves today?”

  The woman looked up, startled. “What?”

  Clumsily, Galia pointed at Mina and Strayke.

  “They… They’re very good,” Galia said. The idea of her trying to sell her friends made her sick to her stomach, but she forced herself to continue. “Mina is… Mina is quick and smart, and she weaves and brews. And er, Strayke, he’s a fighter, a good one.”

  “Oh. So you have friends,” said the woman, sniffing. “Very well, choose one.”

  Galia froze. “Lady?”

  “Go on. It’s to be expected for one who looks like you. Choose one, and be done with it.”

  Galia turned a fearful glance to Mina and Strayke. She couldn’t possibly choose.

  “Make it quick,” the woman barked. “It grows cold.”

  She made it sound as if Galia was a child dawdling over a treat. She dropped her head. Her choice was clear.

  “Mina,” she said softly. “The small girl. The one with the white hair.”

  “Ah. Well, if it was me, I might have picked that handsome man.”

  Galia should have been grateful for the woman’s mercy. She should have fallen on her knees and thanked her. Instead, there was a growing hatred inside, and Galia welcomed it. Brutality sharpened the soul, and made something inside her hard.

  Mina stood still as the drover unlocked her manacle from the chain. Galia was relieved to see that she did not bite the man. But she didn’t look at Strayke. She couldn’t. She could all too easily imagine the look of hatred on his face. She hoped it was hatred, because if it wasn’t, it would be sorrow. Seeing grief and confusion on Strayke’s face would have pierced her in a way that she couldn’t take.

  Mina stood beside her, stepping into a place that was meant for her.

  “All right,” said the woman, all business. “It’s time for us to go.”

  Galia must have let some of her fury at being forced to abandon Strayke show, because the woman smiled as cold as the northern gales.

  “Do you want to stay here?” she said softly. “Do you want to get back in the chains?”

  “No, Lady,” Galia muttered, because it was true.

  The woman’s laugh was soft and strangely delighted. “How you will hate me before this is through. Count on it.”

  As she led them out of the plaza, Mina looked back, but Galia wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

  Chapter 5

  The palace was the most beautiful building in Tenebris. It was incredible, like a giant wedding cake rising up five stories. The edges of each level were intricately scalloped, with delicate, pointed turrets, evenly spaced. Glass windows of all shapes and colors decorated the sides of each level. An occasional balcony jutted out, without any visible supports.

  Their new owner and her wolf swept in as if they ruled there. It occurred to Galia only then, that she did. Galia gripped Mina’s hand, and was aware of many servants bustling about. Some glanced at them before quickly looking away. Their owner hailed a tall and kind-faced woman dressed in a beautiful robe of lilac.

  “The bigger girl needs to be settled in a room,” their owner said briskly. “Find some kind of work for the little, skinny one.”

  “Yes, Oracle,” the tall woman said.

  At the thought of being separated, Galia felt a protest rise up in her throat. For once, however, it was Mina who squeezed Galia’s hand. Mina’s face was game and almost craftily amused. She’d always been a bit of a wild girl, as apt to run in the woods as to do her weaving. Galia prayed that her friend would not run far. The people of Tenebris––their owners––were likely to be far less tolerant than the people of the village.

  The tall woman looked Mina over, her gaze surprisingly gentle.

  “Poor thing, you look half-starved. First we’ll feed you, and then we’ll find a place for you, how’s that?”

  Mina looked as surprised by the kindness as Galia felt.

  “Er, that would…that would be nice, Lady. Thank you.”

  The woman smiled and Galia relaxed a little. Only then did she see the strange, furry creature that hovered near the woman’s
feet. Except for its small size, Galia might have jumped back. If she hadn’t known better, she might have guessed it was a raccoon. Though it had the clever hands and a striped tail, it’s eyes were orange and the body thinner.

  The woman must have noticed Galia’s stare.

  “Plouton, my ring-tailed lemur,” she said. She snagged the arm of a passing boy. “Take her to the kitchen,” she said, pointing at Mina. “And tell the cook to feed her soup, bread and some chicken. Nothing too rich, mind. I’ll come down for her later.”

  Mina was led off with nothing more than a glance over her shoulder at Galia. Now Galia was alone with the two women, who were eying her up and down.

  “Well, she’s pretty,” the kind woman said.

  “I didn’t buy her for her looks,” the Oracle said. “She’s got something to her, something quite strong.”

  Galia frowned. She still didn’t understand what was going on.

  “Well, Rhea, I’ll let you get to work,” the Oracle said. “I’ve work to do myself. Don’t let her into my sight until she at least looks like a priestess, yes?”

  Rhea’s eyebrows raised. “Not an acolyte?”

  “You heard me,” the Oracle said.

  Rhea inclined her head. “Of course, Oracle.”

  The woman––the Oracle––swept off with her wolf on her heels, and Rhea and her lemur turned to Galia.

  “Did you just come off the block, then?”

  Did she mean the auction block? “Yes, Lady,” Galia said.

  Rhea nodded. “An end for some, a beginning for others.”

  Panic gripped Galia’s chest. An end? What would happen to Strayke? What had she done to him?

  Rhea nodded down one of the corridors.

  “Come on, then. The Oracle wants you looking like a priestess. We’ll get you sorted.”

  * * *

  • • • • •

  * * *

  The first thing that they did was bathe her. Galia would have said that she was clean after being manhandled by the drover. But that wasn’t good enough for the palace of Tenebris. There was an enormous copper tub, and as if by magic, a turn of a lever brought water gushing into it.

  “Forced water through the pipes,” Rhea said, seeing the look on Galia’s face. “It keeps the floors warm too.”

  Galia was plunged into water so hot that at first she thought that her skin would boil right off. Then, just when she had gotten used to it, two girls showed up with brushes and pumice stones. They were brisk but they were kind. They scrubbed every inch of her, removing every trace of dead dull skin with the rough stones and paring her fingernails and toenails down short with a pair of small razors. To Galia’s shock, they pulled out sharp knives as well. For a moment, she thought that they were going to kill her, but then they laughed.

  “It takes a while, but you’ll like it,” one girl promised.

  Galia sat in still wonder as they used the sharp knives to shave off every bit of her hair below her eyes. She whimpered when one girl urged her legs open, but the other girl thumped her companionably on the shoulder.

  “It’s not bad, I promise. Want to see me?”

  Galia shook her head shyly, but she did open her legs. They delicately and deftly shaved her, as though it was something they did all day. For all Galia knew, they did.

  By the time she got out of the tub, she was feeling tired. She could have rolled over right on the floor and slept for a week. The two girls giggled at her drowsiness and dried her off briskly with soft cloths.

  Rhea came back with a small leather envelope and a bottle in her hands. Her little lemur scampered along the ground, following her.

  “Ah, good girls, right on time. All right, pretty one. We have just one more thing to do before you can be taken to the Oracle.”

  Galia started to ask what it was when both girls seized her by the arms. Stretched between them and seated on the bench by the tub, she was immobilized. As Galia watched in terror, Rhea opened the jar, releasing a scent of almost impossibly strong alcohol. Then she removed a thick needle from the leather envelope. The last light of day glinted on the sharp tip.

  Rhea moved quick as a snake. She seized one of Galia’s nipples, pinching it erect before driving the needle straight through the base of it. Galia shrieked in horror as much as in pain. What was happening? Tears coursed down her face, and her heart thudded inside her chest. A few drops of blood spattered her thigh. She almost missed it when Rhea pierced her other nipple. The pain was even worse for the second, making her tears flow even faster. Rhea ignored them. Instead, she reached into the envelope again.

  This time, she withdrew two open gold rings. With the quick movements of long practice, she slid the rings through Galia’s piercings, closing them with a deft snap of her fingers.

  “Oh, there we go. There, that’s pretty.”

  Galia stared down at her breasts, gasping. The foreignness of metal through her tender nipples was shocking.

  “Oh, poor little dear. It has been hard for you. That is the worst of it tonight, I promise, all right? Come here, sweetheart.”

  Galia allowed herself to be gathered into Rhea’s embrace. The woman smelled of something sweet and flowery.

  “Priestesses are wed to the Goddess,” Rhea said quietly. “The rings are the outward sign. Since you will never marry or bear children, you will have no need to suckle a newborn.”

  Galia sobbed. The pain, the strangeness, and her sudden glimpse of the future were too much. Rhea’s arms were soft, gathering her close, and Galia wanted nothing more than to sink into her.

  This is how they do it, Galia realized. The thought was as clear and cold as the never-ending ice in the northern lakes. They hurt you. Then they comfort you, and you remember that. You forget that they were the ones who hurt you in the first place. Remember this. This is what this place is like.

  But Galia couldn’t help herself. She let herself collapse against the tall woman, crying hard. She had betrayed Strayke, and found herself a priestess in some frightening palace. She couldn’t be strong anymore. Rhea rocked her until she had cried herself out. Finally, when she was still, the older woman sat back.

  “Once you’re dressed properly, I will take you to the Oracle.”

  “Please, will you tell me what is happening? Will you tell me why I’m here?”

  Rhea shook her head. “That is for the Oracle to say.”

  The gown that she offered to Galia made the cotton she wore earlier seem like leather. This fabric was so thin and smooth that at first Galia thought it was some kind of water.

  “Silk,” Rhea said. “The green does look lovely on you.” The dress clung to her curves and draped from her hips in soft folds to the ground. “Come. The Oracle is waiting.”

  Galia followed behind Rhea and her lemur. Occasionally they passed by other men or women who wore robes like Rhea and the Oracle. Invariably they were accompanied by animals. Even in the north, Galia had heard tales of beings such as these.

  “Rhea,” she said, as they passed a robed man with a falcon on his shoulder, “are you a magician?”

  Rhea glanced over her shoulder, a slight smile on her face. “We call ourselves Wiccans. This is our coven.”

  Finally they arrived at a large door with an eye carved into it. Rhea stepped forward briskly and knocked. “Oracle, it’s the new priestess to see you.”

  “Send her in.”

  Galia stepped into one of the finest rooms she had ever been in. It was not incredibly large, though one of the smaller homes in her village would have fit in it with room to spare. However, it was incredibly sumptuous. There was a banked hearth that ran along the length of the room. The tall glass windows let in the last of the light. The floor was covered with soft pelts.

  The Oracle sat at a bench under the window, her wolf resting its head on her knee. Galia stepped cautiously into the room, aware that Rhea was closing the door behind her.

  For a long moment, the Oracle looked her over silently. The woman’s eyes w
ere the coldest that Galia had ever seen. Galia had been a slave for weeks, but she had never felt as naked as she did now.

  “You are a likely looking one after all,” the Oracle said finally. “But it takes more than looks to survive in Tenebris. Do you know why I have purchased you?”

  Galia shook her head. “No, Oracle.”

  “This is the palace of Tenebris, the place where the Goddess of the city speaks. She holds us all in the palm of her hand, and as her most beloved servants, it is upon us to best please her. What do you know of the gods, girl?”

  Galia shrugged cautiously. She wanted to please this woman. She knew that she very much needed to please this woman. She didn’t know whether she would do that best by being totally honest or by trying to protect herself and guessing at what the woman needed.

  “We had gods in my homeland, but they did not live in houses as great as this,” she said.

  The other woman sneered.

  “You knew the old gods, then,” she said dismissively. “You knew the gods of blood and bone, the ones who hunted the forests and ruled over nothing greater than the streams and rivers where they were birthed. Compared to the Goddess of Tenebris, they were hardly gods at all.”

  “They were enough for us.”

  The words fell out of her mouth before she could stop them. Her defiance hung in the air between them.

  The Oracle laughed. The sound was surprising. It was rich and warm, completely at odds with the cold woman who made it. She was still laughing when she got up. She crossed the room to Galia, and slapped her across the face.

  The force of it turned Galia’s head, the pain sharp and shocking. Galia realized distantly that it was only by some kind of miracle that her jaw hadn’t broken. She did, however, taste blood.