by Jason Tesar
What’s wrong with me? I have friends. Food. I’m training as a warrior. Most kids would love to have this life.
The questions kept running through his mind. He rolled over and pulled his pillow over his head to block out the sound of his thoughts, but it didn’t help.
CHAPTER 18
The screams echoed down the hallway and Lemus felt his nerves cringe. He didn’t have the patience to sit and wait for the birth of his son. It was driving him mad to do nothing but stare at the floor. He decided, instead, to get some work done. Walking down the hall, he stopped at the door to his study. He wasn’t eager to deal with his responsibilities either, but under the circumstances, he had no choice.
He entered the room and sat down at his desk. Charts, lists, and maps of various sizes filled his vision. He slowly began to organize the mess that had been building for a week. He tried to clear his mind of everything but the problem at hand—a shipment of armor and weapons from Orud would be arriving in three days, and he had to make sure that it arrived safely. He had come across several bits of information that led him to believe the shipment would be attacked.
He had already rescheduled the ships to arrive at midnight, which was unusual. Hopefully, it would disrupt the would-be attackers. Although the city of Bastul never seemed to sleep, the population on the streets would be considerably less at that time of evening, making it easier to spot anything out of the ordinary. Still, there was the problem of extra reinforcements. There was no good place from which to pull guards. Lemus buried his face in his hands and massaged his temples. He was having trouble concentrating. Suddenly a knock sounded at the door.
“Yes?”
The door opened slowly, and the face of a female slave peeked through.
“What is it?”
“Sir, the baby is coming.”
Lemus raised an eyebrow. “Is he here yet?”
“No,” she answered timidly.
“Come back when my son is born!”
The woman nodded and pulled her head back from the room.
“Make sure he is cleaned up before you come again,” he yelled at the retreating footsteps.
Now, back to work. Where was I? Oh yes, reinforcements. Lemus scanned a map of the city, letting his vision pause at the major defense points. Each had only the minimum number of soldiers necessary. Finally he stopped at the armory. Thirty guards. He thought it seemed a bit excessive. I’ll leave two guards there and move the rest to the docks for just a few hours. He looked back to the docks lining the bay. Twenty-eight extra men should be plenty. He would have them dress in plain clothes, not their uniforms, and hide them in the dark alleys near the docks. They would be quick to join the fight if the attack came from the bay. If it came from the streets he would be able to cut them off before they could reach the ships.
Another knock interrupted his thoughts.
“YES?!”
“The baby is here,” came the voice from the other side of the door.
Lemus jumped to his feet and walked briskly to the door. As he opened it, the slave girl flinched. He ignored her and strode quickly down the hall. His heart was racing. He couldn’t think of a time when he had been more excited. The thought of having a son who would follow in his footsteps gave him such joy that he finally realized what all the fuss was about. He had never thought of himself as the type to be married and have a family, but over the recent months the idea had grown on him. Finally, there would be someone whom he could train, instruct, and guide through life, steering him past difficulties while teaching him how to lead people. It was an opportunity that Lemus’ own father had neglected completely. The excitement was almost too much to bear.
Halfway down the hall he found the spare room where he had chosen for the baby to be born. Maeryn had wanted to be in the bedroom, but Lemus insisted that the mess be kept to a room that was rarely used. Three of the servant women were gathered around the bed and Maeryn was sitting up, propped by pillows. She was holding what looked to Lemus like a bundle of cloths. As he got closer he could see the pink face of the baby protruding from the bundle.
“Give him to me.” Lemus grabbed the baby from Maeryn. “He’s lighter than I thought he would be.” Pulling the baby close, he moved some of the blankets out of the way of the baby’s face, then noticed that the women were staring at him. “What?”
Maeryn looked at Zula.
What’s that expression she’s wearing?
“It is a woman child.” Zula answered instead, with the cautious look of a mouse about to be struck by a snake.
“What?” he asked, partially because of the strange wording from the slave woman, partially from unbelief. “What did you say?”
“It is a girl, not a boy … sir,” she corrected.
* * * *
Maeryn watched the blood drain from Lemus’ face. His arms went slack, and Zula quickly caught the baby girl before he had the chance to drop her. Then the color returned and his eyes suddenly focused themselves. His eyebrows wrinkled as he backed away and turned, storming out of the room.
Maeryn glanced up at Zula, who was still staring at the door with her mouth slightly open. They had all expected something bad to happen but were shocked at Lemus’ silence. The girl who’d announced the arrival of the baby to Lemus was still standing out in the hall, unsure of what to do next.
Zula turned slowly and gave the baby back to Maeryn.
She accepted the tiny bundle, with tears running down her smiling face, despite the awkward event with Lemus. “She looks like her father.” It was a statement that didn’t ask for confirmation.
Zula agreed anyway. “Yes, she does. I am proud of you, mistress.”
Maeryn was unsure what the woman meant, but was too exhausted to ask.
“Your strength has been tested, and you have proven to yourself that you are strong. I know that you will raise your daughter to be the same way.”
The tears of joy continued to fall as Maeryn looked from Zula to her new daughter. “Aelia will be strong indeed, as long as she is in the presence of women like you.”
~
The soft light of the morning filtered in through the window of the birthing room. Maeryn lay awake, watching Aelia’s body expand and contract with each breath. She seemed so peaceful as she slept, unaware of the world she had been born into. Maeryn was suddenly aware of the smile on her own face, and realized instantly that she felt more at peace in this moment than at any other since Adair disappeared.
“When is it coming?” came a faint voice from outside her window—a scrap of someone else’s conversation drifting into the room from the courtyard.
Maeryn listened for a recognizable voice. It didn’t take long before she heard Lemus’ hissing.
“… two days from now … at midnight.”
Maeryn’s interest was piqued at the hushed voices. She leaned closer to the window to catch more of the conversation.
“What should I do?” asked the other man.
“Leave two men behind at the armory. The rest of you will be reassigned to the protection of the shipment.”
“Is that really necessary?” The other man seemed to be confused about his orders.
“I have received information that the rebels will attack the ship as it docks in the harbor. You and your men will trade your uniforms for … less obvious attire.” Lemus paused, probably reveling in his own brilliance.
Maeryn imagined that the other man was smiling with a devious grin that would only serve to make Lemus think more highly of himself than he usually did.
“What do you expect to happen?”
“The docks will already be guarded with the usual amount of security. Perhaps the rebels will attack from the sea. However, I find that unlikely. Instead, I think they will be waiting a short distance away from the docks, in the city. Your men will be disguised in various places near the docks as drunks, fishermen, and whatever rabble can be found at that time of night wandering the city. We will stop the rebels before they
can even reach the boats.”
A quiet laugh echoed slightly off the stone buildings and made its way to Maeryn. It was obvious that Lemus’ underling was trying to flatter him.
“Make sure that your men are ready. If you sense that any of them are not up to the task, you must tell me at once. I will deal with them. We cannot have any mistakes.”
“Yes, sir,” the other man answered.
One pair of retreating footsteps signaled to Maeryn that the conversation had come to an end. A moment later, she heard Lemus leave the courtyard as well. Ever since she learned that she was pregnant, Maeryn had been focused on how to keep her baby safe from the monster who was now her husband. Now she remembered what Zula had once told her about there being better ways to get back at Lemus than to kill him while he slept.
Zula was right. This is much better!
Maeryn lived with the man responsible for governing the city of Bastul, and she had access to information that other men would kill to have. She remembered that while Adair was governor, he had kept himself informed on the Resistance movement. They were a subversive group, living within the Empire and among its citizens. Adair never spoke of what these people stood for, but she remembered that he had even communicated with them on several occasions through a local fisherman who relayed messages. Throughout his time as governor, he had managed to avoid any major confrontations. The fact that they were now planning to attack a shipment in the harbor meant that they didn’t think too highly of the new governor.
“Zula,” Maeryn called as carefully as she could without waking the baby.
“Yes, mistress,” the servant woman replied, coming in from the hallway.
“Is Lemus gone?” she whispered, tilting her head toward the window.
Zula walked to the window and peered out. “Yes, mistress,” she answered after a few seconds. “Shall I fetch him for you?”
“No,” Maeryn answered quickly, wondering if Zula was being facetious. “I was thinking that I would like to have fish this evening for dinner. I would like you to go into the city and buy some from a certain fisherman.”
“But mistress, we have plenty of fish here.”
“Yes, I know, but he is a friend of the family and it has been a long time since he has heard from us. I am also going to send a letter for you to deliver to this man.” Maeryn motioned for the writing utensils on a nearby desk and Zula quickly brought a quill along with a sheet of parchment and an inkpot.
“Thank you,” she said, accepting the items. “Give me a few minutes to write the letter and then you can go into the city.”
“Yes, mistress,” Zula said, leaving the room to finish what she had been working on before she was called.
Maeryn dipped the quill in the ink and paused to look at Aelia. One day, I’ll be able to tell you who your real father is. And we won’t be forced to live a lie. She looked back to the parchment and began to write.
I have recently become aware of information that may be of some use to you. There is a shipment coming to Bastul at midnight, two days from now. There are rumors that the Resistance has made plans to attack the shipment as it reaches its destination. I can assure you that measures are being taken to solve this problem, and the attack will likely be unsuccessful. Your lives will be at great risk should you choose to continue with this course of action. I have heard from a reliable source that the armory will be emptied of all but two men on the night of the shipment to deal with this rumored threat. Perhaps the cargo of the ship is not as important as the contents of the armory to a movement such as yours.
Maeryn blew on the ink and folded the parchment into thirds. When she was finished, she noticed Zula standing in the doorway. “Would you please seal this with Adair’s symbol?” she asked as she handed the letter to the woman.
Zula nodded. “I will be back in a few hours. Do you need anything else while I am in the city?”
“No thank you, just the fish.”
As Zula turned to leave, Maeryn felt a pang of guilt. “Zula …?”
“He won’t ever know, mistress. I’ll be careful.” She gave a knowing smile and left the room.
* * * *
The jostling of the wagon stopped, waking Saba from his uneasy sleep. For a moment he forgot where he was, but the aching in his joints quickly reminded him. Why have we stopped? He couldn’t see anything with the covering over his head, so he sat still, waiting to find what his captors would do. He had been in the back of this wagon for close to a week now, or so he guessed. Several times a day they would stop and allow him to get out and walk around. It was during these times that Saba was able to relieve himself. But it’s too soon since the last break! Saba began to grow nervous.
To his left, Saba heard the sound of metal grating on metal.
“Get out,” one of his captors said.
Saba tried his best to comply with the command, but his body was stiff. Once out of the wagon, the man placed a hand on Saba’s shoulder and pushed him forward. Saba’s heart began to beat louder as he anticipated something terrible.
“Where are we going?” he mumbled through the gag in his mouth.
“Huh? Did you say something? It sounds like you have something in your mouth.” Laughter broke out from the other two men who were following at a safe distance, probably waiting for Saba to try and run.
He didn’t bother. He didn’t repeat his question either.
The ground under his feet suddenly became smoother, and the stranger pulled on Saba’s shoulder to stop him. He briefly heard the creaking sound of wood, and then they were moving again.
A few minutes later, the man stopped Saba, then reached up to the back of his neck to untie the bag. “Welcome to your new home,” he said as he lifted the covering off of Saba’s head.
After seeing nothing but darkness for a week, the light was intense. Saba could only open his eyes for seconds at a time. What he did manage to see was a fenced area of well-trodden soil, containing a few buildings, one of which was directly ahead of them. Saba spat his gag onto the dirt before taking a deep breath. The air was cold but smelled clean and damp. And the soil under his feet showed signs of recent rain. He quickly noticed that his captors were not dressed the same as the cloaked men who had attacked him in the city of Orud. These men wore black as well, but were garbed like soldiers, with long-sleeved leather tunics and trousers that reached down to their calves.
“In you go,” the guard said, pushing Saba toward the nearest building.
One of the soldiers ran ahead and opened a wooden door in the stone structure. Once inside, Saba’s eyes were able to relax, though there wasn’t much to look. Along the right side of the building was a long, narrow room with a fire pit in the floor on the far end. A few crudely built chairs surrounded the pit, with others arranged near a table in the corner. Along the left side were thick wooden doors with narrow viewing slots carved into them at eye level. The three men walked Saba down to the far end of the building and opened the last door, pushing him inside.
“Make yourself comfortable,” said one of the soldiers as the others laughed.
The door was shut and locked, and once again, Saba was alone. A quick look around the room was all that was needed to take inventory of his surroundings. There were no windows, only a small cot and a hole in the floor that smelled of urine. Saba walked over to the cot and inspected it with a probing hand.
I think I’ll stand.
~
The next few days were as uneventful as his trip in the back of the wagon. The guards fed him regularly and kept the fire going outside of his room, so that the chill night air never made it to his cell. It was the inconsistency of the situation that confused him most. What do they want from me? Why keep me locked up, and yet tend to all my basic needs? It didn’t make any sense. Saba set his pondering aside at the sound of voices. Footsteps preceded the sound of jingling keys, and suddenly the door was open.
“Come on, old man. It’s your turn,” said a soldier whom he hadn’t seen
before.
“My turn for what?”
The guard smiled. “You have a big day tomorrow. Don’t you want to look your best? You don’t have a choice in the matter anyway. Come on, get out of your cell,” he said before Saba had the chance to answer.
Saba was escorted back the way he entered the building. On his right, he heard sounds coming out of the other cells. He tried to remember if there were people in the cells when he had come in, but before he could recall, the door opened and the guard pushed him outside.
The chill in the air made him feel even more alert. For the first time, Saba got a good look at the place where he was being held prisoner. It was a compound with several stone and wood buildings that appeared to be randomly placed within a high stone wall surrounding a dirt courtyard.
Although the term ‘courtyard’ is usually reserved for more hospitable surroundings, he thought.
A thin fog obscured most of what was beyond the wall. But a few trees, which stood close to the wall, could be seen. Saba noted that they were some variety of pine, which told him they must have traveled north from Orud and had climbed a considerable amount in elevation.
“Keep moving,” the guard said in a bored tone.
Saba got the impression that these men were either being paid to do this or else they were just following orders. They didn’t express any malice toward him, in fact, he felt almost ignored, but for the attention needed to prevent his escape.
Like they’re watching animals.
They walked across the courtyard toward a building that looked much like the one Saba had been sleeping in for the past few days, except for a small wing that extended off the main structure at an angle. As they approached the extension, the door opened and a guard led another old man from the room, and the two began walking in the opposite direction. When they passed, Saba noted that the man’s head had been shaved, as well as his face. Neither guard said anything as they passed each other, as if they had done this a hundred times already.
Saba was pushed through the doorway and into a small room with a wooden floor that sloped downward toward a center drain. One man was sweeping gray hair off the floor while another was setting down a bucket of soapy water with a rag draped over the side. Saba’s escort pushed him toward a chair that sat in the center of the room.
