by Matt Russell
Chapter 9:
Family
Iona gazed at Livia's sullen face, watching the beautiful girl fold the house linens over the dinner table. Her sister’s movements were sharp and jerking, as if she were silently expressing hatred for the task. As Iona tried for perhaps the hundredth time to guess at what was wrong, Livia's eyes shifted abruptly to her, and she quickly returned her attention to chopping carrots. Laundry day was usually Iona's favorite time of the week because she and Livia spent so much time together, but her sister had been in a strange, nervous state for almost a week. She knew Livia was not sleeping most nights. The normally confident girl jumped every time someone came to the door, and she was irritable all the time, which was causing the tension to rise between her and the mistress of the home.
"More wine, Iona," Lady Sondal said, holding up her goblet from across the room. She was lying atop the new cushioned sofa Hervin had bought. It was only mid-day, and the woman had already consumed an entire urn and was well into her second.
"Yes, my lady," Iona said, the words coming reflex. She picked up the clay vessel from the table and darted over to her mistress's cup and poured. When she finished, she swished the urn around and said: "This is all we have left in the house."
The lady rolled her eyes and said: "Send that wretched mute out to fetch some more from my dear husband's shop."
At these words, Iona heard a sharp intake of air behind her. She turned to see Livia clutching at the sheet in her hands, and she whispered: "I—I'll tell her, mistress."
"Bah!" Lady Sondal grunted after a long sip of wine. "She can hear just fine." The woman raised her voice and said: "Livia! Go! I order you!"
Livia's shoulders contracted, and she stood frozen for a brief moment and then threw her laundry down onto the table and turned toward the door in a brisk walk. It opened just before she got there, and Hervin stepped in.
"Hello, everyone," he said, wearing his usual friendly smile. He gazed at Livia for a moment, raising an eyebrow. "Are you heading out?"
Iona spoke for Livia, as she often did, "Lady Sondal sent her to fetch an urn of wine, Master."
He turned to his wife. "Are you out already?"
"Of course I am!" his wife snapped. "How else am I supposed to relax when the Nemesai still haven't caught the rogue sorcerer?"
Hervin fidgeted, a look of frustration playing across his round face. He took a breath and then said: "My dear, I think we need to have another talk about the cost of all this wine. I must remind you it isn't made locally. It has to be shipped or carted all the way from—"
"Do not speak to me of cost!" the woman said in a loud voice with a dismissive sweep of her hand. "You feed these two slaves meat nearly every night. If you want to save desseks, perhaps you should stop treating them like they're your daughters! I am your wife, and when my father bestowed his noble-born daughter on you, it was with the understanding that you would see to her comfort."
The muscles in Hervin's neck tensed, but he managed to say: "Yes-s-s, well, perhaps we shall speak of this another time." He turned to Livia, who had remained near the door in silence. "Why don't you come back with me after we have our meal?" He glanced at Iona and asked: "Will it be ready soon?"
"Yes, master," Iona said. "The bread is ready now if you like." She gestured to the loaf that was cooling on the small table in front of her.
"It looks delicious," Hervin said, flashing a kindly smile of crooked teeth that almost seemed to melt the tension in the room.
Lady Sondal glared at Livia and said: "I don't want that ungrateful mute to have any. She's been a sullen little badger all morning. I think she should go hungry for a few days. That will perhaps teach her to appreciate what we give her."
Livia did not look up, but her smooth skin went a touch redder. She stood still, staring down at the floor, her shoulders rising and falling in a slow rhythm of barely controlled anger. The look in her eyes frightened Iona.
"Come now, my dear," Hervin said with a nervous laugh. "Livia works very hard. She needs to eat to help me at the shop and do everything else she does." He turned to Iona and said: "Set a nice plate for Livia please, dear."
"I said NO!" Lady Sondal bellowed in a deep-throated shout. "And I have changed my mind. Iona will go and fetch the wine." She eyed Livia with narrowed eyes and said: "I know if I let this little wretch out of my sight you will find a way to feed her, Hervin." The woman’s pouty lips curled into a sneer as she added: "It is my will that she learn her lesson."
Livia continued to glare at the floor, the anger in her eyes growing more and more intense. Iona began to breathe very quickly. She could feel that something terrible was unfolding.
"Enough of this," said Hervin, his voice unusually assertive. He looked at Livia and said: "Go to the shop, take a handful of coppers and eat whatever you wish."
"NO, she will NOT!" Lady Sondal shouted. She rose abruptly from the sofa, spilling wine onto her robes and the floor. In a huff, she marched over to Hervin and said in a ferocious voice: "I have tolerated enough of your indulgence of that skinny little cripple!" She leaned in closer to his face, and he drew back a little. "Two slaves ran away this week from the Prethian estate! That has filled this little fool with ridiculous notions." Lady Sondal gestured to the table where a stack of folded linens rested. "Just look at her shoddy work! She thinks she is too good to fold our sheets! I can see it in her dull little slave eyes."
Livia's fists were clenched so hard the knuckles were turning white. Iona darted between her and the woman of the house and said: "I'll b-be happy to fetch your wine. Why d-don't you rest, and I'll make you some nice marzipa—"
"Don't try to interfere with this!" Lady Sondal hissed down as the back of her hand slammed into Iona’s face. Pain whipped through her cheek, and there was a brief instant of blackness in her vision before she stumbled to the floor.
"Oh! You wretched BEAST!" Hervin shouted, glaring at his wife. Both Iona and Livia turned to look at him in complete shock. "Gods! What the hell did I do to deserve such a Spoiled, Vicious..." He stumbled on his words, the fury beginning to melt from his face. Hervin’s mouth trembled for a moment, and then he said in a quieter voice: "I think this afternoon has gotten quite out of hand. Perhaps we should all just—"
"Did you call me a beast?" Lady Sondal said, speaking each word slowly. Her eyes were as wide with rage as Livia's had been, but they were far more terrifying. "You dirty little peasant. You call me a beast?"
Iona watched Hervin's face turn several shades paler. "My dear—"
"You—you pathetic little man!" the woman hissed. She leaned into him, and his eyes widened. "You spineless little ass. What did you do to deserve me? My grandfather was a senator!" She leaned in even closer, and Hervin took a step back. His wife made a sweeping gesture at Livia and Iona and said: "You think these slave girls are your daughters because your blood is as low and dirty as theirs."
“You…you need to calm down,” Hervin said.
“Hah!” Lady Sondal cackled. “You think I’m going to listen to you after what you Dared to say to me?” The woman was taller and bulkier than he was, and that fact had never been more apparent. "Do I disgust you, peasant?" She raised her arm in the air, her palm open in an obvious threat to smack him. "Tell me, you sniveling, lowborn creature. Tell me your opinion, you son of a merchant! You weak, ugly, pathetic little—"
Livia's fist struck Lady Sondal's nose out of nowhere, hitting hard enough to knock her head back. The woman's enormous form stumbled, and she had to jerk her leg back to catch herself. With a shriek, she raised her hands to her face. When they came back, they were dripping with blood.
Livia was glaring at her. Her lips were curled up, revealing her perfect white teeth as a hiss escaped through them.
"You little bitch!" Lady Sondal whispered, looking back and forth between Livia and the blood on her hands in an expression of disbelief. For a long moment, she stared at the blood in silence. Then her mouth slowly
began to curl into a cruel smile. "You little bitch," she repeated. "Do you know the penalty for a slave striking her owner?"
Livia drew in a sharp breath. Her eyes widened, and her beautiful face shifted suddenly into one of horror. She took a step backward and began to tremble.
"They're going to kill you!" Lady Sondal said, and her grin broadened. She turned toward the door and yanked it open and shouted: "GUARD! I NEED A GUARD! MY SLAVE HAS ATTACKED ME!" She went bounding out of the house, continuing to shout.
Livia put her hands to her mouth. Her skin had become a sickly pale. Tears began to roll down her face, and she hunched forward into a silent sob. Iona had never imagined her sister could look so frightened.
Hervin put his hand on Livia's shoulder and exhaled: "Don't worry! N-no one is going to kill you!" He fidgeted for a moment and said in a nervous voice: "W-wait here!" He turned and dashed into his room in the back of the house, and Iona heard a fierce rummaging from within.
Livia began to pace back and forth, more tears rolling out of her eyes. Iona rose and moved to her. The only thing she could think to do was throw her arms around her sister. She hugged Livia tightly, and after a few seconds, Livia hugged her in return, sniffling.
"SHE'S IN HERE!" Lady Sondal shouted. Two men in bronze helmets and breastplates with short swords at their waists marched into the room. At their arrival, Livia jerked away from Iona and flattened herself against the wall. She looked utterly terrified.
"Did you strike your owner, slave?" the closer of the two guards said in a sharp voice. He was a large man with a thick beard and gray eyes that threatened violence.
"Livia is not a slave!" Hervin shouted. He came running out of his room with a sheet of parchment in his hand. The little man moved between the men and Livia and repeated: "She is not a slave."
"WHAT?!" Lady Sondal shouted. She stomped past the soldiers. "She is most CERTAINLY a slave!"
"No, she is NOT!" Hervin shouted. He shook the parchment in his hand and said: "I freed her two weeks after I bought her and adopted her as my daughter." He shoved the parchment into the guard's hand and said: "You can clearly see the censor's insignia. This was done legally. I have several witnesses." He blinked then. Everyone in the room was staring at him in shock. He turned to Livia, his eyes wide with remorse as he said: "I—I'm so sorry. I should have told you—I was just so afraid of..." he cast a nervous glance back at his wife, "but I... I don't care anymore!" He turned to Iona and said: "I did it for you as well. Neither of you are slaves."
Lady Sondal bellowed: "You—I don't believe this—you ADOPTED—" she put her head between her hands and began to hiss through her nose.
Livia moved over to Hervin, still trembling and looking uncertain. He swallowed nervously and said: "I should have told you. I'm such a coward, but..." his eyes welled up, "I've never thought of you as a slave—you had to know that."
A pair of tears dripped from Livia's eyes. She drew in a deep breath and then moved to Hervin and pressed her face into his shoulder and slowly curled her arms around his neck. She made almost no sound, but Iona could tell she was crying from the way her shoulders bounced up and down.
The guard blinked several times at this display, and, though he looked very confused, he seemed to have been touched. After a few heartbeats, he rolled Hervin's parchment up and muttered: "Well, you should really get freedman tattoos for these girls. If you hadn't been here to show me this paper, we would have had to..." He swallowed, gazing at the still sobbing Livia, and then handed the parchment back. "I suggest you see to it immediately."
"Yes, I will," Hervin said with a nod.
Lady Sondal made a strange guttural sound from behind her hands.
The guard sighed, gazing around the room at everyone present. He drew in a breath and then exhaled: "Since this girl is your legal daughter, this is a family matter." He turned to leave.
Lady Sondal reached out and gripped the guard by the arm. "The girl struck me!" she snapped, pointing at Livia with her other hand. "That lowborn little piece of trash struck ME!"
The soldier gazed down at the hand on his arm in irritation and said: "Then her father can punish her as he sees fit." He reached up and brushed her hand away and added: "It's really none of our business." With that, the man turned and walked with the other guard out of the house.
After they left, Lady Sondal threw her hands up in the air and shouted: "I cannot BELIEVE you!" She glared at Livia, who continued to sob on Hervin's shoulder. "You think I will stand for this?! Do you think I will share my home with a former slave—call her my daughter?!"
Livia lifted her head slowly from Hervin's shoulder and turned to face the lady. There was no longer any fear in her eyes at all. Her mouth held the faintest trace of a smile.
Lady Sondal gritted her teeth. "Look at you, you filthy little tart! I bet you're already making plans. Now you have the freedom to flaunt your lowborn prettiness about town. Why don’t you go run along and do the only thing you were ever meant to do? I wager you could be the richest whore in the city until your looks disappear in a few years."
To Iona's surprise, Livia's smile only broadened, and she laughed silently.
This enraged Lady Sondal. Her eyes shifted to Hervin, and she said: "I want this little slut out of my house! NOW!" Hervin drew in a breath, looking very uneasy. Lady Sondal took a step toward him and hissed: "Throw her OUT! I demand it!"
"I..." Hervin muttered. He moved his hand to Livia's shoulder and said: "She's my daughter." Livia's mouth trembled, and a fresh set of tears leaked down her cheeks.
"Your daughter?" Lady Sondal whispered. She gritted her teeth and said: "Are you actually choosing that little slave over me—your noble born wife?! You—you would not dare! Tell me it is not true. Tell me you have not lost your mind!"
Hervin stuttered: "I...I…" he gazed into the eyes of his wife and then looked down and whispered: "I cannot do what you ask."
Lady Sondal's thick hands clenched into fists. "You will throw her out, or I will leave you!"
Hervin continued to gaze at the floor. Livia, however, met Lady Sondal's glare with still dripping eyes and pointed sharply to the door with a hateful smile.
The enormous woman looked at her and then at Hervin. She began to breathe very hard and snarled: "I mean it! I will leave! I will go back to my father's estate!"
Livia pulled a piece of paper from her pocket and set it down on the table near her and began to write as still more tears flowed from her eyes. When she finished, she turned to Iona and held up the message. It read:
Tell this disgusting cow I will pack her
bags for her as a final service.
Iona's mind was still spinning with what had just happened. When she saw the words, all she could mutter was: "L-Livia offers to pack your b-bags."
Lady Sondal's face turned a frightening red, and she exhaled the words: "She... she offers..."
Livia spun with a smirk and walked to the linen closet and drew out a large rough spun sack and then whisked into Lady Sondal's room. The sound of drawers being opened echoed through the house.
"D-Don't you touch my things!" the woman of the house snarled. She ran to the broom closet and snatched out the wicker rug-beater she had used many, many times over the years to punish Livia and marched toward the doorway, grunting: "You little bitch! I'm going to—"
Livia shot out of the room, her hands going to the rug beater. She and Lady Sondal engaged in an extremely brief struggling match that resulted in Livia yanking the thing away. The large woman staggered back, huffing. Livia glared at her, gazed down at the rug beater, and then gazed back, her eyes narrowing.
Lady Sondal grunted: "Don't you DARE! Don't you even THINK about it, you little piece of trash!"
Livia raised the rug beater over her head and ran at her former owner.
"OHHHH!" the great woman shrieked. She ran for the front door, moving faster than Iona had ever seen her move. Livia followed her up to the doorwa
y and then halted, staring out as her former mistress continued to run shrieking in the streets. Livia walked back to the sack she had stuffed and carried it to the door, where she flung it out. She then walked back past Hervin, who stood utterly bewildered, and gave him a swift kiss on the cheek. Then she moved to the linen closet, took out another sack, and returned to Lady Sondal's room again.
Iona stared as her older sister carried bag after bag to the door and tossed them out. After the fifth trip, Livia looked at Iona and seemed to read the worry from her eyes. She pulled out her paper and pencil and wrote:
She's just sitting out there on the street.
We should call a horse and cart for her
when I'm finished.
After reading the words, Iona found herself moving to the doorway. She walked out and saw, past a pile of spilling over sacks, the woman of her house sitting on the ground looking down at the stones and dirt beneath her. Her face was red and sullen, and she looked utterly miserable. Iona moved to her side and knelt down and whispered: "Are you alright, my lady?"
Lady Sondal let out a dark laugh. "I'm not your lady, Iona."
"But are you alright?"
The woman grimaced. In a low rasp, she said: "My life is such a pathetic joke." A pair of tears rolled down her face, smearing her thick makeup. "I didn't think I could sink any lower. Betrayed by my peasant husband—not that he ever loved me!" She cried into her hands for a moment, letting out loud sobs for all the passersby on the street to hear. Through her fingers, the she moaned: "It isn't fair! I was the fattest, ugliest daughter of a noble lord. That's how I ended up married to a lowly man like Hervin. No one of any worth would have me." After a moment more of sobs, she lifted her face and stared at Iona. "Can you imagine anything so pathetic? Being chased out of my house by my own slave? It's all a cruel joke. What have I ever done to deserve any of it?"