‘Wait a minute,’ he said, his anger rising again. ‘They’re learning Rahain? On whose authority? I hope this has nothing to do with you. It must cease at once, of course.’
‘I thought that learning the language was one of the aims of the research programme, master?’
‘Was it?’ Laodoc slurred. ‘I don’t recall that. It seems a foolish idea to me. They’re savages, Simiona, nothing but wild apes. It’s surely for the best that we don’t allow beasts to understand what we’re saying.’
‘But, master…’
‘Are you questioning my authority, slave?’ he shouted, rage filling him. After the day he’d had, this was the last thing he needed, to be pestered about some ignorant barbarians by a nagging slave.
‘No, master!’ she cried, putting a hand in front of her face as he raised his fist to strike her.
Laodoc looked down into the eyes of his terrified slave, his right fist poised to punish her impertinence. He knew others who regularly beat their slaves, taking out their petty frustrations and troubles on them. He hated people like that.
He lowered his fist.
He walked round the desk to his armchair and settled down, relieved that Stoelica was not present. She had despised his moments of weakness, especially those concerning his inability to administer appropriate discipline to his slaves.
‘I apologise for my temper, Simiona,’ he said. ‘I have had the most dreadful day, although that is no excuse. Come, sit.’
Simiona sat down in the armchair, on the other side of the desk from him. Her face was pale, and she was shivering. He got another glass from the drawer, and poured her a small brandy.
He passed her the glass. ‘So, tell me all about the Kellach’s song.’
Chapter 6
Leaving Home
Arakhanah City – 20th Day, First Third Summer 504
‘Wake up, Shella,’ Barro said, nudging her with his elbow. ‘It’s time to vote.’
‘What?’ she croaked.
Shella opened her bleary eyes, a string of drool hanging from her lip, while a monstrous hangover held her in its grasp. The dawn air was crisp and cool, but the blue sky overhead heralded another hot and sunny day to come. All around her were hundreds of other Rakanese, sitting on the tiered stone benches of Brackenwell District’s local assembly. ‘What are we voting for?’
Barro scowled at her. He took his democratic rights very seriously, and rarely missed the morning debates. ‘The proposal to implement the two-shift school day, Shella. You know, the one we were talking about last night?’
‘Oh yeah,’ she said, her head pounding. ‘Which way are we voting? For or against?’
Barro sighed. ‘Do you ever listen to anything I say?’
She shrugged. ‘Sometimes.’
From a raised podium, the speaker of the assembly held up her hand for silence, waiting until a relative quiet had descended over the half-filled benches.
‘Those in favour of proposal seventeen!’ she thundered.
There was a flurry of hands in the air. Shella noticed that Barro’s hand was not raised, so she put hers up. Counters to either side of the speaker noted down the citizens’ response.
‘Those opposed!’ the speaker called out.
A far smaller number of arms, including Barro’s, were raised.
The speaker didn’t bother to wait for the counters to finish.
‘Proposal seventeen carries!’ she shouted. ‘Next item. Proposal eighteen regarding the re-allocation of funds from the budget to refurbish the riverside harbour. Here to speak in favour of the proposal…’
As the speaker continued, Barro turned to Shella in fury.
‘You voted in favour!’
‘Well, yes,’ she said. ‘The average classroom size in the district is over sixty, Barro. The teachers can’t cope, and most lessons are useless. We split the classes in half, and run two shifts back-to-back, at least we get the class sizes down.’
‘But, Shella,’ Barro protested, ‘they didn’t include adequate provision for childcare. What are parents whose kids are allocated the early shift going to do, when their children are let out of school at lunchtime?’
She shrugged, squinting into the sunlight. ‘Make do, I guess.’
He snorted and shook his head.
She smothered a smile. As much as she enjoyed winding him up, she found his inability to realise whether she was joking or not a little disconcerting. She yawned, and stretched out her arms. It was going to be a rough day. She had turned up drunk at Barro’s apartment the previous evening, and spent the night. They’d had sex, though her mind was hazy on the details, and she had a horrible feeling that she may have fallen asleep while he had been grunting away on top of her.
‘Can we go to work, now?’ she said. ‘I’m bored.’
‘Actually,’ he said, ‘I want to stick around for the vote on the new rent control restrictions.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘And when will that be?’
‘Another forty minutes, maybe?’
‘Sod that,’ she said. She staggered to her feet. ‘I’ll see you at work, yeah?’
‘Sure.’
Shella pushed her way through the crowds of people towards the western exit. The majority of the attendees were elderly, being those with the most time to spare, as well as the strongest opinions on how Arakhanah was in terminal decline. A few old folk tutted as Shella passed them, or commented on how her early departure proved how fickle and apathetic the younger generations really were.
She ignored them. Her hangover was all she cared about.
Once out of the building, she made her way along the canal front towards Crossmarket to catch the water-bus. It took her a few minutes to realise that the streets and waterways were much quieter then usual. Odd, she thought. It was still early, but the dawn wave of workers heading to their jobs tended to make this a busy time.
She reached the large quayside in front of the great market hall, and her mouth opened. The queues for the water-buses were tiny compared to usual. A few hundred people stood around, where normally there would be thousands at this time of the morning.
Her stomach rumbled. Barro lived like a man who had never cooked a meal in his life, and she had yet to have any breakfast. She walked over to a hot-food stall, her hand reaching inside her overalls for her purse.
‘Morning,’ the woman behind the counter said, her apron greasy and stained.
‘Yeah,’ Shella replied. ‘I’ll take one, please. Large.’
The woman leaned over a deep fat fryer to her left, and extracted a long thick locust on a stick from the bubbling oil. ‘How spicy do you want it?’
‘Very.’
The woman nodded, and rolled the fried insect in a tray of dark red powder, before wrapping it neatly in paper.
‘Three and a half bits,’ she said, handing it over.
‘Ta,’ Shella said, giving her the money. ‘Quiet today.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Any idea what’s going on?’
‘Nope,’ she replied. ‘It was busy at dawn, then, about an hour ago it started to thin out. Is there a strike on that I didn’t hear about?’
Shella shrugged as she turned away. ‘Don’t think so.’
She walked to the queue for her water-bus.
‘Hi, Joanie,’ she said, recognising a woman from the sewage works.
‘Hi, Shella,’ she replied. ‘Do you know…?’
‘No idea,’ Shella said. ‘Just come from the Brackenwell assembly, nobody said anything about a strike while I was there.’
‘We heard it was religious,’ said a man from the neighbouring queue. ‘Everyone’s gone to listen to a new visionary or prophet or something.’
‘Not another one,’ Shella tutted. ‘That guy last winter was a complete fraud.’
‘Yeah,’ the man said. ‘My sister totally bought into it as well, she…’
‘Shella! Shella!’
Her head turned as she heard her name shouted across the qu
ayside.
‘Is that your brother?’ Joanie asked, pointing.
Shella saw him in the distance, as he scanned the crowd looking for her.
‘Lenni!’ she yelled. ‘Over here!’
He ran over, out of breath.
‘You been running?’ she said. ‘Why are you not at work?’
‘Where were you this morning?’ he asked. ‘You weren’t at breakfast.’
‘I was out.’
‘Noli sent me to look for you,’ he went on. ‘Obli and her husband had a huge row and, well, Noli needs you to come home. Now.’
Shella sighed.
‘Can it not wait until after work?’
Lenni shook his head.
Shella raised her eyebrows at Joanie. ‘Tell the overseer,’ she said, ‘I don’t know, tell him I’ve found religion.’
She unwrapped the fried locust as she left the quayside with Lenni, her stomach aching.
‘Can I have a bite?’ asked Lenni, spying it.
‘I’ll leave you some,’ she said, biting the head off, ‘if you tell me what’s going on.’
‘Can’t,’ he muttered. ‘Noli asked me not to.’
She shrugged, and finished off the insect in another couple of bites, chewing on its warm, crunchy flesh, her mouth burning from the rich spices. Lenni looked away, scowling.
‘Mmm,’ she mumbled.
‘I’m definitely not telling you anything now.’
‘You weren’t going to anyway,’ she said, belching. ‘You always do whatever Noli tells you to. Isn’t that right, loyal little Lenni?’
He lifted his palms up. ‘She is the head of the family, Shella.’
‘Yeah,’ Shella nodded, ‘because giving birth magically imbues wisdom, doesn’t it?’
‘Giving authority to mothers is only fair,’ he replied, ‘as they’re the ones with the biggest stake in the future.’
‘So,’ Shella said, ‘not only are they lucky enough to have children, but they get to lord it over those of their brothers and sisters who are denied the same right, and who are left to wither like dead branches on a tree?’
‘I didn’t think you wanted any kids.’
‘I don’t,’ Shella replied. ‘But that’s not the point. There are plenty who do.’
‘Like Obli.’
‘Yeah,’ she replied, her voice low. ‘Like Obli.’
They walked in silence along the quiet canal-lined streets.
‘Where is everyone?’ Shella muttered, mostly to herself.
‘I assumed the unions had called another strike,’ Lenni said.
‘If they have,’ she said, ‘nobody told us. Guy in the bus queue said he heard it was a new religious craze.’
‘People are so gullible.’
‘I know,’ she said, nodding. ‘By the way, did you remember to perform the ritual sacrifices to the household spirits this morning?’
He scowled at her. ‘That’s different, and you know it.’
‘Of course it is,’ she winked at him. ‘Completely different.’
They walked into their street, keeping to the shade under the trees, as the summer morning warmed up.
The family house was in uproar as they entered. Children were crying and shouting, and adults sat about looking depressed, or stood and argued. Brothers, sisters, nephews and nieces crowded the main hall, and the sitting rooms beyond. Lenni led her to the dining room, where Noli sat at the head of the table, frowning. Next to her sat Sami, another sister Zonnie, and Obli’s husband, Janno. Zonnie had two of Noli’s children sitting on her knee.
‘I found her,’ Lenni announced as he came in, taking a seat next to Janno.
Noli looked up at Shella.
‘I’m not going to ask you where you were last night,’ Noli said. ‘Right now, there are more important things to worry about than your lack of respect for yourself.’
‘And a good morning to you too,’ Shella said, sitting next to Sami.
Zonnie scowled at her from across the table.
‘You got something to say?’ Shella asked her.
‘You’re an embarrassment to the family,’ she blurted out.
‘Thanks!’ Shella replied. ‘One tries ones best.’
‘Enough!’ Noli cried. ‘While you two bicker, Obli is out there somewhere, alone.’
‘What?’ Shella said.
‘I need you to go and find her, Shella,’ Noli said. ‘You’re her closest sister. If she’ll listen to anyone, it’ll be you.’
‘Wait a minute,’ Shella said. ‘Where has she gone? What happened?’
‘I’ll let Janno tell you,’ Noli said, waving her hand at the man, who Shella noticed was sitting with his eyes downcast, shame beating from him.
He said nothing.
‘Come now, Janno,’ Noli said. ‘Best if you tell her.’
He mumbled something too quiet to hear.
‘What?’ Shella said.
‘I’ve been having an affair,’ he whispered.
Shella gasped, looking around the table. From the sullen looks on everyone’s faces, she guessed they already knew.
‘You’ve been cheating on Obli?’ she said, her anger growing. Her hands clenched into fists.
Janno nodded.
‘Bastard!’ Shella shouted, and launched herself out of her seat. She swung her arm, and her right fist connected with the side of Janno’s head. He yelled out, and Shella felt Sami’s arms pull her back across the table.
Shella sat down, with Sami’s arm over her shoulder. Janno stared at Noli in protest, holding a hand to his face.
Noli shrugged, a half smile on her lips.
‘How long?’ cried Shella. ‘Who with?’
‘Nearly a year. You don’t know her,’ Janno said. ‘You don’t understand what it’s like, living with Obli, it’s been so difficult…’
‘I don’t care,’ Shella said. ‘I don’t want to hear you speak again. In fact,’ she turned to Noli, ‘why is he even here? Why is his backside not out on the street?’
‘I’m tempted to throw him out,’ Noli said, ‘but I wanted to wait and see if that’s what Obli wanted too. We need to find her, and bring her back here, and then we can talk about what to do.’
‘Okay, sis,’ Shella said, ‘I’ll go. When did she leave?’
‘About two hours ago.’
Shella stood, wracking her brain for places that Obli could have gone.
‘This could take a while,’ she said. ‘I’ll need Sami to help me.’
Noli nodded to their brother, who pushed himself to his feet.
‘If you can,’ Noli said, ‘try to get a message to us by lunchtime, even if you haven’t found her, just so we know.’
‘Okay, will do,’ Shella said.
Noli reached over, and hugged Shella. ‘Good luck, sister.’
Shella nodded, and she and Sami left the dining room.
Back out on the street, she headed right, towards the centre of Brackenwell.
‘So,’ Sami said, ‘where were you last night?’
She tutted. ‘Not you as well, Sami?’
‘Come on, sis. I’m not judging you, I’m just curious.’
‘Barro’s,’ she muttered.
Sami snorted. ‘Him? Oh, sis, you can do better than that.’
‘You don’t even know him.’
‘No,’ he said, ‘but I’ve heard you complain about him often enough.’
Shella slowed as they reached a small market square bordering the riverside docks.
‘Where are we going to look first?’ Sami asked.
She had no idea. Not the first clue where Obli could have gone.
Sami gazed around the square. ‘Why’s it so quiet?’
Shella glanced up. The usually bustling fruit and vegetable stalls were almost deserted. There were a few elderly people, and a handful of older children running messages for their families, but no one else.
They went up to the first stall.
‘Where is everyone?’ she asked the stall-keeper.
/> The old woman leaned forward. ‘They’ve all gone west, dear.’
‘West?’ Shella said. ‘Why west?’
‘They’re following a new holy man,’ the stall-keeper said. ‘One minute, the market was busy, the next, a rumour spread through the square, that someone was going to speak, someone in the west of the city, someone blessed and holy, and then all the young folk left. It was the oddest thing I ever saw.’
‘It’s not just here,’ Shella said. ‘The quayside up at Crossmarket was deserted as well.’
‘It’s rattled me, dear,’ the old woman said, her eyes worried.
Shella turned to Sami. ‘What do you think?’ she said. ‘Would Obli have gone to listen?’
Her brother shrugged. ‘Maybe, I don’t know. She was doing a lot of superstitious stuff before the Board made their decision, so she might have.’
‘West it is, then,’ she said. ‘Come on.’
They walked to the main road by the western entrance to the market. It ran alongside a major canal that cut across one of the loops in the river. Shops lined the street on one side, while on the other the tables and chairs of the local cafes sat out by the canal. Waiters stood around the empty seats, looking slightly embarrassed by the lack of customers.
‘Definitely not a strike, then,’ Shella said. She shook her head. ‘I can’t believe another crank holy-man has duped half the city, so soon after the last one.’
‘People are desperate,’ Sami said. ‘They want to believe in something, anything.’
‘That’s pretty deep,’ she said. ‘For you.’
‘Do you think you’re the only person in this city who feels like they’re drowning?’
‘Generally I try to avoid other people’s feelings.’
‘Except when you’re stepping all over them.’
‘What’s gotten into you?’
‘Our family’s breaking apart, Shella,’ he said. ‘Noli didn’t say anything, but did you not wonder why so few of us were at the dinner table?’
She thought. Of her siblings, Noli, Lenni and Zonnie had been there with her and Sami. She had also seen Chapu, Marru and Asta in the hallway looking after the children.
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