Callad frowned. “They should.” he said. He sighed. “Plus, I don’t like you hanging around that alchemist.” He took a bite of bread. “There’s something off about him. Why’s he have to hide his face?”
“He’s a good man, Pa.” said Rook. “Besides, he’s the only one in town who sells what I need to make Everlight. So, like him or not, I have to deal with him.”
“Eat more slowly.” said Sierla. “Food should be savored, not shoveled like coal into that furnace of yours.”
“Sorry, Ma.” said Rook. “But I got a lot to do today.”
Kierza held her veil up over her mouth as she munched some bread. Outside a dog barked.
Rook immediately stopped eating and sat upright. There was scratching on the door and another bark. “Bones!” shouted Rook as he bolted from his chair and rushed into the other room.
Kierza and Callad exchanged a frown as Sierla rubbed at her husband’s shoulders. “He will not stop until she is found.” she said. “Your son is nothing if not persistent.”
Kierza watched as Rook opened the front door. Golden sun poured in with the summer breeze and a lanky dog with a shaggy coat of silver-gray fur dashed in. It tore around in circles at Rook’s feet, occasionally pausing to shove its pointy nose into his hands as it made high-pitched whining sounds. Kierza was familiar with Bones. He was Gabidar’s quick-hound.
“Down boy! Down!” said Rook. Bones sat in front of him, wagging his tail frantically. His large, pink tongue dangled down to his chest as he made a happy type of panting sound, all the while looking up at Rook with large, gray eyes. Rook bent down and grabbed the dog’s wide, leather collar. Tucked into a pocket was a small parchment and Rook slid it out. Bones followed as Rook walked back into the dining room and began unfolding the paper. He grabbed a piece of bacon and tossed it to Bones who caught it in midair and gulped it down in a single swallow.
Kierza watched as Rook’s eyes scanned down the paper. It was full of inky lines and waves she couldn’t decipher. The art of reading and writing was reserved exclusively for nobility and upper members of society. Learning to read and write was forbidden, especially for slaves. Rook, however, had learned the art from Diotus. How Gabidar had learned she had no idea, but being a wealthy merchant he had traveled all the lands. She supposed he might have learned during his time in the other countries.
“So?” asked Kierza. She saw a tiny smile curl his lips so the news had to be good.
“He made it to Jerusa with the entire shipment.” said Rook. He crumpled up the paper and tossed it onto the table. “Hopefully it can bring a little relief to the people.”
“You say that every time.” said Sierla, daintily munching a strip of bacon. “You bring them much relief.”
The dog padded around the dining room, panting and shaking his tail as he gauged who might toss him some food. Kierza’s brow furled. Moments like this made her feel that it was a cruel joke that not having a nose still allowed her to smell foul odors. The thing stank like… well, she didn’t exactly know what, but it was worse than wet dog. Kierza tossed him a piece of her bread and the dog engulfed it in mid-air.
“He’s stinky.” said Sierla, waving her hand over her veiled face.
“He’s come all the way from Jerusa.” said Rook. “I’ll wash him up and bring him back home.”
“That’s all it said?” asked Kierza. “No word on your sister?”
“After delivering the food he’s supposed to go to Escalapius to look for her.” said Rook.
Callad sighed and snatched the crumpled paper from the table. “You’re going to get us in trouble one day with all these letters. This needs to burn.” He tossed the paper to Rook.
“It will.” said Rook. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”
Callad frowned and grumbled something under his breath as he leaned back in his seat and dug around in his pocket. He pulled out two brass slave bracelets and a number of metal charms and set them on the table. The bracelets each had a number of square links that allowed the charms to be set upon them. The larger bracelet was Rook’s and Kierza watched as Callad rummaged through the charms with a giant finger. “How many crowns are you taking?” he grumbled.
“Two-hundred.” said Rook.
Callad’s eyes turned up to him in a disapproving manner.
“I need to buy a lot.” said Rook. “That’ll cover what I need.”
Callad shook his head as he picked at a couple charms before finding one that had a picture of a coin engraved upon it and the number ‘200’. He snapped it into one of the bracelet’s facets. He turned his eyes to Rook. “Just to the Apothecary and Gabidar’s house?” Callad stated this more than he asked, and Rook nodded. Grumbling something about not liking Rook going out today, Callad picked through the charms and snapped two more into the bracelet. One had an engraving of what looked like a boat on it, which Kierza knew denoted the docks where most of the merchants like Gabidar lived. The other had a square engraved upon it, which denoted the town square, close to Diotus’s shop.
Callad held the bracelet up and looked Rook in the eyes. “You and this Gabidar fellow need to be careful,” he said, shaking the bracelet at Rook. “The wrong people find out what you’re doing son, and it will be more than that quick-hound showing up at our door. I appreciate your heart. I’m sure the people of Jerusa appreciate it more than you’ll ever know. Just… just be careful.”
“I’ve been doing this since I was twelve, Pa.” said Rook. “You’ve been saying this same thing for like eight years now.”
“Well today’s a different day with the Sisters coming.” Callad tossed Rook the bracelet and blew out a long breath. He shook his head and took another piece of bacon from the platter. Rook took a piece of bread and gave it to the dog who promptly scarfed it down. Then he took him by the collar and began leading him back to the front door.
“Where are you going?” asked Kierza.
“I’m gonna clean this fella up and bring him back home after I stop at Diotus’s.” he said.
“Son, I’m telling you, going out today is a bad idea.” said Callad. “If the Sisters come…”
“I’ll be fine.” said Rook. “I’ll see you in a while.”
“You hear those bells ringing and you come right home. I mean it.” said Callad.
Kierza watched Rook as he opened the front door, slipping out into the light of the late morning. She frowned. Ever since the dream she and Rook shared, she wasn’t so certain that finding his sister was a good idea.
“That boy of yours,” said Sierla, shaking her head. “Stubborn as an Escalapian goat, he is.” She fixed her exotic eyes on Kierza. “And what of my daughter today? You do not look dressed to help me finish those dresses we’ve been working on.”
“I promised my brother I’d see him today.” said Kierza, bracing for Callad’s rebuttal.
She saw Callad’s lips purse into a displeased frown. He sighed and shook his head. “You know people have been going missing over in Ragtown these last few days.”
“I’ll be careful.” promised Kierza. “Besides, it’s a sunny day.”
Callad shook his head. “If the Sisters come…”
“I’ll come home right away, I promise.”
Callad eyed her. “The moment those bells start ringing…” he said, shaking a finger at her.
“I know.” said Kierza.
“You be careful.” said Sierla as her husband affixed a couple charms to the bracelet. “You do not want to cross their path.”
“I’ll be careful,” Kierza promised. Callad tossed her the bracelet and she looked it over quickly. There was a charm with a picture of a towel on it for Ragtown, the poorest section of the city, as well as one with a picture of a coin and the number ‘10’ on it. Kierza frowned. “Can I get one for twenty? And one for the Northside Market too?” asked Kierza. “I’d like to—”
She sighed and stood from her seat. She hooked the bracelet around her wrist. “I’ll be back soon.”
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
The warm summer sun held high in the cloudless, blue sky but few of its rays penetrated the narrow alleys of what people called Ragtown, the easternmost section of Bellus best known for its cheap taverns, pleasure houses and pawn shops. Down the main avenue were a handful of makeshift stands selling last week’s produce and meats of dubious edibility for pennies a pound. Few people strolling the streets here were without slave brands and there was nobody to shovel away the manure left by the horse-drawn wagons that came and went. The high, stone buildings that surrounded Kierza were apartments for the poor or slaves who came of age and had managed to purchase their freedom. From the windows, antiquated clothing hung to dry and the dirt roads were muddy in spots from horse urine and sewage that had backed up from the drains. The plumbing in Ragtown was sketchy at best and heavy rains caused major flooding in the roads. The entire place always stank of trash and sewage. Once again Kierza found herself lamenting that a missing nose didn’t mean a lack of olfactory senses.
Kierza turned down a narrow avenue lined on either side by dilapidated buildings of brick and plaster. On her left was a tall structure in better repair than those that surrounded it. Upon the stone steps that led up to its heavy, oaken doors were a number of slender ladies whose veils concealed more than the rest of their clothing. They swayed seductively as men passed by, batting their eyes or dropping a strap from their shoulder. The second and third story windows were opened to let in the summer breeze, but their drawn curtains did little to conceal the moans and pantings coming from within. Kierza frowned in disgust. She hated this part of town.
Across the street was her brother, Chazod’s, apartment. It was a tall building of old stone marred by sloppy patches of plaster that sealed up the holes and cracks. Upon the steps sat a number of men in dirty outfits. They lazily sipped at their bottles of cheap rum as they watched the ladies across the way. Kierza steeled herself as she came upon them. She knew them all; they lived in the same building as her brother. None of them were slaves, just destitute drunkards. They weren’t usually too bad unless they were a few pints in. Their brown eyes scanned her up and down as she came up the steps of the building. One of the doors had bent hinges and was always hanging open, even in the winter. “Spare a penny?” asked one of the men. He held out a dirty hand.
It was far from typical to ask a slave girl for spare change. Firstly, because slaves generally were not given any extra money than what they needed to run their master’s errands. Secondly, because slaves were beaten if they so much as lost a penny. However, Kierza had a far more comfortable life than other slaves. It wasn’t really a secret that she and Rook were known for their generosity, and it had gotten Callad and Sierla in trouble more than once over the years. Slaves were not allowed to earn wages but it was often overlooked because Rook would furnish the city guards with finer swords and armor than they could actually afford.
Kierza gave the men a faint smile. She reached in her pocket and dropped a couple silver nickles into each of their hands.
“Thank you,” said one. “Aeoria bless you,” said the other.
“Kierza,” called a familiar voice. She turned and saw her brother standing in the darkened alley between his apartment and the next. He beckoned to her with a shake of his head. “Come on.”
Kierza looked around. She hated strolling these streets. Not only were there thugs, but the city guard were far more suspicious of people here and often stopped every slave to check their bracelets and pat them down for contraband. “Can’t we go upstairs?”
“Nyal’s there.” he said.
Kierza frowned. She hated Nyal. Like her brother, he had partially bought his freedom when he turned twenty-one, the legal age in which a slave could do so, provided they had the funds. It was no easy feat, since slaves couldn’t technically earn wages. Usually it had to be done by working odd jobs for other slave owners on the promise that they would eventually pay for your freedom. In Chazod’s and Nyal’s case, they had fought extra matches in the arena. Chazod had earned enough that his master, Grandon Faust, let him live on his own. The bracelet around Chazod’s wrist had a single charm on it, one with an engraving of a house and a circle around it, denoting that he was a ‘free slave’. A few hundred more crowns and her brother could truly be a free man and he would get a charm with a tower on it. Unfortunately, due to the brands given all slaves on their necks, true freedom was never guaranteed. A bracelet with that charm could be just as much a curse and many a man and woman were slain for them.
Kierza sighed as she looked at her brother. He was dressed in a dingy suit of well-used leather armor whose steel studs were all red with rust. Upon his left hip hung a sword of respectable quality and on his right hung the dagger Rook had given him all those years ago when he had won her from Grandon Faust. His long, brown hair partially covered his green eyes and the battle scars that stained his face. He gave her a skewed smile. She looked around again. “Is it safe?” she asked.
Although it wasn’t uncommon for people to go missing from Ragtown—murder, robbing and rape were all commonplace crimes—it had been happening more regularly these last few days. So much so, in fact, that even the local constable was ordering extra patrols here.
“Safe as it can be, I suppose.” said Chazod. “It’s this or deal with a drunken Nyal.”
With a sigh Kierza came back down the steps and followed Chazod into the narrow alley. “I don’t know why you live here.” she grumbled, wrapping her arms around her body as the shadows of the buildings closed in on her. The alley stank like beer and urine.
“Where else am I gonna live?” said Chazod as he kicked a rotten piece of wood from his path. His boot splashed into a stinking puddle of stars-know-what.
Kierza frowned. “Rook said you could come live with us.”
“Rook said,” he mocked. “Fuck your boyfriend.”
“Then sell that dagger already.” said Kierza as the alley came to an intersection where the buildings from the rear jutted up to the other apartments, creating something of a labyrinth of alleys between the two parallel streets. “Rook said it will bring you a thousand crowns easy. Stop fighting for Grandon and get yourself out of this dump.”
“Sorry, but unlike you I couldn’t flash my tits to the first kid who came around and fuck my way into a better life.” said Chazod. “Besides, I’m saving this for when I’m free.” He patted the dagger at his waist. “It’s gonna buy me a cottage on the hill like you got, plus a whole lot of fine ass.”
Kierza rolled her eyes.
Chazod turned down one of the long alleys that ran behind the back of the buildings. Shafts of light cast their rays between the tall structures, making the puddles and wet trash glisten. Down the way, set against the cracked bricks of a building, was an old bench. Chazod walked up to it and kicked away the trash and rats before plopping himself down. He patted the rotten wood at his side. “Have a seat. It’s a beautiful day.”
Kierza looked around. “Can’t we sit out in the sun at least?”
“I like it here.” he said. “Sometimes I come out here and just sit by myself. It’s nice and quiet. I don’t like people walking around me. Besides, I got a fight this afternoon and I just wanna clear my mind.”
Kierza sat down next to him. She looked at his face. A deep scar ran along his right cheek and there was another on his left side where part of his earlobe was missing. She frowned. “Just sell it already. I’ll never even understand how you’ve kept it hidden from Grandon all these years. Sell it before he finds out and takes it from you.”
Chazod smirked. “You know, it’s funny. It’s like he’s
blind to it. There were a few times growing up when I thought for sure he’d seen it, but he’d always just glance over it, like it wasn’t even there. That day, after your boyfriend stabbed me with it, I thought the first thing Grandon was going to do was take it, but he never even asked about it.” Chazod shrugged his shoulders.
Kierza looked at Chazod and sighed. She ran her finger down the scar upon his cheek. “Sell it. Stop fighting and go live your life.”
“Nah,” he said, forcing a little smile at her. “I kind of like fighting. Beats working Grandon’s forge. Unlike your boyfriend, I was never that good shaping steel; just fighting with it.” He stroked a calloused finger down her cheek to the base of her neck where he tugged at the silver chain of her necklace, pulling it from beneath her shirt. He grabbed the exposed heart-shaped pendant and rubbed it with his thumb.
For such a simple pendant there was an exquisite beauty to it. The value was not in the thin layer of silver that covered the cheap metal it was made from, but in the art. Its form had elegant flourishes, and intricate filigree of brass wire were set into it. It was a simple thing, but the artist who made it had poured his love and talent into its creation.
“I miss Ma.” said Chazod, staring at the pendant. “Sometimes I think about her, you know? She always wore this. It was the only thing that motherfucker let her keep when they took us away.” He took the thing from around her neck and held it in his hand, staring at it.
“Do you think she’s still alive?” asked Kierza, taking her brother’s other hand into hers.
Chazod hiked his shoulders. “I doubt it,” he flipped the pendant around and rubbed the back of it. “I like to think she’s dead. I like to think she’s not one of those used up whores working the pleasure houses. It’d be better that way, for her to be dead.” Chazod was silent for a moment. When at last he spoke his voice was quiet and subdued by memories. “Grandon could have bought her. He could have bought her and Pa when he took us.” He handed Kierza back the pendant and looked at her. He huffed a little laugh. “But I guess he didn’t need another whore in his bedroom or a beat up old man to fight in the arena. Only the best and youngest for Grandon Faust.”
Here Shines the Sun Page 14