Prophecy

by Sharon Green

“Arwinna! Radli! Sonilin!” Hallina shouted, letting the fury turn her voice shrill. “Get in here, you lazy good-for-nothings! As soon as I’ve had my breakfast, Hafner will be called in from the stables to see to you three, you have my word on that! Get in here this minute, or the beatings will be that much worse!”

  Nothing but silence greeted Hallina’s words, nothing of the scrabbling haste she’d been expecting. That was something else which had never happened before, and now indignation settled upon her. If someone had caused her servants to be remiss in their duties, it would certainly go ill with whomever the culprit was. She was no peasant who might be trifled with without consequences, and everyone ought to know that. Her servants would still be punished for allowing such a thing, but not until she’d dealt with the fool who had presumed.

  Needing to walk barefoot was disgusting to Hallina, even over the softly expensive and exquisitely clean carpeting. Her morning wrap lay draped over a chair arm, a slothful sight which brought back indignation, as did needing to get into it by herself. This entire situation was an outrage, and the sooner it was seen to the sooner she would be able to return to her usual pleasant self. She made a quick stop in her privacy facility, easing herself for the fray, so to speak, and then she marched downstairs.

  “Hiding will do none of you any good at all,” she announced in a loud voice once she stood at the foot of the stairs. “You will come out now and tell me what caused this—this—outrage, and once I’ve seen to it I’ll then see to all of you. Come out, I say, and take your punishments as people who dare not be dismissed from their positions.”

  That particular truth, that they dare not lose their positions, made Hallina smile. It was the source of one of her greatest amusements, and now would be so again. She stood waiting with her hands clasped together, relishing the thought of how hangdog they would look when they crept out to receive her justified anger, but then her smile faded. Those stupid little nothings should have already appeared, and the fact that they hadn’t now turned her anger to twice what it had been.

  “I’m going to put an end to this right now!” Hallina growled as she stalked forward, heading for the kitchen and pantry, where most of those useless fools often lazed around. It was obviously time to dismiss most of them and replace them with peasants who knew how to keep to their place, and even more importantly, how to value a position. Walking into the dining room brought additional outrage, as not one crumb of breakfast stood ready on the buffet. That was something else the useless rubbish would pay for…

  “Now, you listen to—” Hallina began as she pushed through into the kitchen, but the words died on her lips at sight of the emptiness. No one, not one single servant, was in evidence, which was completely impossible. Even if they’d gone insane and had decided not to serve her any longer, they themselves had to eat! So where could they possibly be?

  Hallina returned to the dining room at a much slower pace, disturbance taking the place of anger. It was beyond belief to think that they’d all deserted her, not when they owed her so much! Most of them had been in her employ for years, and had always been willing to crawl and beg rather than be dismissed. How could they now just pick up and—

  The sight of a folded piece of paper on the dining room table halted the ringing questions in Hallina’s mind, and she quickly crossed to the table and snatched up the paper. If this was some sort of excuse for the absences, it would make not one whit of difference in the punishments she would hand out. They would all regret having put her through this, each and every one—!

  Unfolding the note and scanning it quickly stopped Hallina’s thoughts a second time, as the contents were completely beyond belief. It simply wasn’t possible, it couldn’t be! But reading the note a second time, more slowly, did nothing to change the message.

  “Dear Bitch,” it began outrageously. “This notice of termination of our service is being left with the greatest pleasure, and the word ‘our’ refers to every slave in the house. Yes, slave rather than servant, because that was what we were to you. You took advantage of our need to keep our families fed and healthy, and treated us like dirt. For that reason we now take great pleasure in telling you what you can do with yourself from now on, only without us. But come to think of it, you probably don’t even know how to do that much for yourself. Well, we’ll certainly think of you in our new positions, picturing you floundering around until you die of starvation, and probably in your nightclothes at that. Most of us don’t believe you capable of dressing yourself, and now we’ll all learn the truth—especially you. We wish you the worst life is able to provide, and after that a painful, lingering death. The staff.”

  Hallina let go of the note and just let it drop, too stunned even to be furious. They were gone, to new positions? How could that possibly be? No member of the nobility would take on a servant without speaking to his or her former employer, to find out under what circumstances that servant was let go. Because of that, peasants found it impossible to find a new position if they left one for any reason other than a general reduction of staff. It made the service they were given by their staff the best possible, but now… What in the world could have happened?

  Suddenly chilled to the bone, Hallina sank down into a chair. This couldn’t possibly be reality, so she must be having a nightmare. Yes, that was it, she was having a nightmare. Of course she couldn’t see to herself, what true member of the nobility could? She wasn’t meant to see to herself, not ever, but now…

  Hallina’s thoughts … ended there, and how long she sat staring at nothing was impossible to tell. Time had ceased to have meaning, except for the fact that her hunger began to increase. Then a sound penetrated the stunned fog wrapping her around, a distant thumping of some kind. She had no idea what the sound could be, and truth to tell couldn’t have cared less. Her main concern was that she was hungry, and all those miserable ingrates refused to appear to ease that hunger. But she would find a way to get even with them, just as soon as she found out where they’d gone. Having them dismissed from their new employment and then refusing to take them back herself would fix them, that would fix them good and proper—

  “So there you are, Lady Hallina,” a male voice said, startling her. “Why didn’t you answer the door? You must have heard us knocking.”

  “Me, answer a door?” Hallina demanded, outraged in spite of everything as she turned to look at the brash intruder. “Do you take me for a servant, you fool? But I think I know you…”

  “Indeed you do, Lady Hallina,” the idiot said with a sarcastic bow. “I’m Lord Rimen Howser, special representative of the Five, and soon to be High Lord. I take it that your servants have already gone?”

  “They certainly have, but they’renot as done with me as they believe,” Hallina growled, beginning to fire up again. “As soon as I learn where they’ve gone, I’ll see to it that they’redismissed immediately. They’ll be out on the street with nothing—”

  “No, they won’t,” the idiot had the nerve to interrupt, his expression sourly amused. “They haven’t found new positions with someone of our class, they’ve been taken in by the rabble of the city. We’ve all experienced the same thing, or at least most of us have. Those of our class who made a habit of coddling their staff haven’t been completely deserted, but they selfishly refuse to lend out to the rest of us what animals are left. Well, that’s neither here nor there. The reason I’ve come is to take you to the palace.”

  “Well, at last,” Hallina declared with the beginnings of a delighted smile. “Those children have finally understood just who I am, and now they’remaking sure I’m not discomfited. They’rehours too late for that, of course, which I’ll tell them as soon as I see them, but at least they have the good sense to—”

  “No, Lady Hallina, you misunderstand me,” the man interrupted again, a habit Hallina found utterly outrageous. “You aren’t being honored by the Five, not when you really aren’t anyone at all. There may be a need for having you near to hand, which is the reason wh
y you were forbidden to leave the city. It served their purpose to let you stay in your own house in the interim, but now, with your servants gone, it will be best to have you where you won’t perish by accident. If it turns out that you aren’t needed after all, you’ll probably be released to go your own way again.”

  That was the point where Hallina really noticed the men standing behind Howser, men who were uniformed guardsmen. One or two of them wore smirks, amused by her humiliation, but numbness turned outrage thin and tenuous. Her staff was gone for good, she was being all but arrested, and if she managed to live through whatever those vile children had in mind for her, she would be turned out into the street. So how—

  “Lady Hallina, go and dress yourself now, and choose no more than three outfits to take with you,” Howser said, again interrupting her thoughts. “You’ll have to pack the additional clothing yourself, but some of my men will carry it for you. You will do it right now, or I’ll be forced to take you as you are.”

  Thin and distant outrage touched Hallina again, but that wasn’t the overriding thing concerning her now. The one, burning question she had was of vast importance, and could be summed up rather easily. In the midst of all these nightmarish happenings, how was she going to take her just vengeance against Clarion? She didn’t know, but one thing was crystal clear: no matter what else she lost, attaining vengeance couldn’t be allowed to go with the rest. It just couldn’t … couldn’t … couldn’t…

  * * *

  “Daddy, I want to go home!” Mirra Agran announced, not for the first time. “I’m bored absolutely to tears, and now that everyone in the city seems to be goin’ insane, even the few parties that were bein’ held aren’t bein’ held any longer. We can sue the Ro’s just as easily and a lot more comfortably in Port Entril.”

  “Don’t you think I’ve been tryin’ to get us out of here, Mirra?” her father replied from the overstuffed chair he sat in. This was the study of the house they were renting, and he should have been at the desk, working to get her what she’d asked for. Instead he sat in one of the chairs of the room, uselessly sipping tea.

  “That insanity you mentioned has spread to everybody, it seems, and gettin’ anythin’ done is apparently out of the question,” he continued. “But don’t forget that I wanted to leave a week ago, when I got that message from Jorvin, who’s lookin’ after the business for me back home. He said things were startin’ to get strange, with folk standin’ on corners listenin’ to men shoutin’ about freedom and such, but you wouldn’t hear of us leavin’. Now that you want to go, you expect everybody to just drop whatever they’redoin’…”

  “Daddy, how can you speak to me that way?” Mirra complained, using the wounded tone that usually made him understand just how badly he’d failed her. “Haven’t you always said that nothin’ is too good for Momma and me, and that it’s your job to see that we never want for anythin’? Well, now I want somethin’, but you’renot givin’ it to me. I suppose I’ll just have to get Momma to ask right along with me.”

  The threat of getting her mother after him usually worked, as her father actually loved his wife very much. This time, though, the silly man just looked over at her where she stood.

  “Your momma is busy in the kitchen,” he replied in the oddest tone. “Just before all the servants left, I was told that some of them would have stayed on—if not for the constant demandin’ you always do. Until now they had to put up with it, but they were happy about not needin’ to any longer. The only reason we had what to eat for lunch was the fact that your momma hasn’t forgotten how to cook, but you made no effort to give her even the slightest bit of help. Now you can go and talk to her—and ask her to put you to work. That should take care of your bein’ bored.”

  “That craziness must be catchin’, if you think I’ll do any housework,” Mirra said with a sound of ridicule, putting her fists to her hips. “I’m meant for much better things, just as you’ve always said, Daddy. Now, about how soon we’ll be leavin’—”

  “Damned if he wasn’t tellin’ the truth,” her father interrupted, not quite muttering. “He said I’d spoiled you rotten, and there’s no arguin’ that fact. Now I wonder if he wasn’t tellin’ the truth about the rest of it.”

  “If you’retalkin’ about that Vallant Ro, you can be sure he lied in his teeth,” Mirra said at once, beginning to be vastly annoyed. “And he was also insultin’, but he’ll pay for all that once he and I are married. I want him, Daddy, and I don’t believe in givin’ up things I want.”

  “‘Things’, Mirra?” her father echoed, his expression now harder than she’d ever seen it. “He’s not a thing, he’s a man, but you don’t seem to understand the difference. And there’s also a difference between wantin’ and lovin’. Or don’t you know that either?”

  “I refuse to discuss things with you when you’rebein’ unreasonable,” Mirra huffed, knowing instinctively that it was time to end the conversation. “I’m goin’ to my bedchamber for a nap, and we’ll talk again when—”

  This time it was a knocking at the front door which interrupted her, and her father made no useless effort to tell her to see who was calling. He rose himself after putting aside his teacup, and strode out to the front hall. Mirra trailed after, curious to see if it might be a party invitation being sent to her, but the man at the door couldn’t possibly be mistaken for a servant—not to mention the fact that there were guardsmen behind him.

  “Dom Agran?” the stranger said, more a statement than a question. “It seems that you’ve lost your serving staff along with the rest of us.”

  “Yes, it so happens I have,” Mirra’s father replied evenly. “May I ask who you are, and what business is bringin’ you here?”

  “That’s easily answered,” the man replied with a smile as his gaze moved to Mirra for a moment. “I’m Lord Rimen Howser, and you and your daughter and wife are to accompany me to the palace. You’ll be given a short time to pack your belongings, but only a short time. Whatever isn’t packed within twenty minutes will have to be left behind.”

  “The palace?” Mirra’s father blurted, obviously shocked. “But why would we—”

  The rest of his startled protest was lost to Mirra in the midst of the sudden delight she felt. The palace! They were going to the palace! Somehow one of the Five must have seen her, and now wanted to get to know her a good deal better. One of the Five!

  Mirra turned away from the babble of unimportant conversation at the door, thrilling to what lay ahead. One of the Five wanted her, and no matter what he was like he would have her. Of course, once they were married it would be she who had him, but that didn’t have to be mentioned at first meeting. She would be the wife of one of the Five, and Vallant Ro would just die to know that. And he would suffer before he died, he and that brazen trollop he’d tried to put in her place, she would make certain of that…

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Storn Torgar, master merchant and father of four eminently desirable daughters—who were considered very much part of his merchandise—was extremely unhappy. The deal of a lifetime had been in his hands, completely negotiated and ready to be begun, and it had all come to nothing because of a mere slip of a girl. That the girl was one of his daughters made the matter much worse, and certainly would not be forgotten. He’d given that girl the best of everything, and she’d repaid his generosity with spite and stubbornness.

  “Storn, why are you just sitting there?” his wife demanded, having come into the study without his noticing. “You know Odrin wasn’t joking, so you don’t have all that much time left. Haven’t you thought of anything to get that impossible child back?”

  “Since I no longer even know where she is, Avrina, how am I supposed to get her back?” Storn responded, automatically turning the words into smooth friendliness. “When I left that high and mighty lord’s house, I fully intended to speak to every judge I knew who still sat on the bench. I was in the midst of doing so, you’ll remember, when I was brought word that the
noble was dead and Tamrissa had disappeared. Since then my agents discovered that she left the city, so what do you propose that I do?”

  “There has to be something,” his wife fretted, pacing to a chair before sitting stiffly. “That arrangement with Odrin Hallasser would have brought us more gold than both of us together would have been able to spend in two lifetimes. It isn’t every day that someone finds supposedly worthless land that none of the nobility care to claim, and files on it personally—after which it proves to be anything but worthless. If we can start to force people onto that land to work it, the gold will begin to flow in. Why can’t Odrin understand that, and simply add his part of the investment without demanding anything else?”

  “Because, Avrina, he’s a … dedicated man,” Storn replied, beginning to feel annoyed all over again. “He’s wanted Tamrissa since the first time he’s seen her, and he didn’t acquire as much gold as he has by giving up the things he wants. I agreed to deliver her to him as part of my end of the deal, and now he means to hold me to that. He refuses to understand how impossible that is at the moment, and has even gone so far as to threaten—”

  Storn stopped speaking abruptly, belatedly aware that he’d been about to say too much. He hadn’t told Avrina everything, just as he never told her everything, but this time she happened to notice.

  “Has he threatened to back out of the deal?” she demanded, her face paling. “But he can’t finance it alone any more than we can, and the land is already registered to you and him conjointly. If he tries to punish us by backing out, he’ll only be punishing himself as well. He can’t take anyone else in, after all…”

  “No, of course he can’t, so you needn’t worry on that score,” Storn reassured her, using his most charming smile to reinforce his words. “And I’m sure he isn’t serious about this deadline he’s given me, so let’s speak of other things. Have you been able to find any servants to hire? I’m growing extremely tired of having to take all our meals in a dining parlor.”