by Jason Tesar
“Take off your clothes and sit,” he commanded.
Saba looked at the man with raised eyebrows.
“Hurry up. I don’t have all day.”
Saba unfastened his belt and pulled his tunic over his head, tossing both to the side of the room. He had just settled into his chair when he noticed the silence. He looked around at the three men and received concerned stares in return.
Why are they acting so strange?
The man who had been sweeping left the room and came back with two more guards. There were now five men in the room and four of them stood guard around the perimeter while the first guard stepped closer to Saba with a short blade in his hand.
“Now don’t move. I don’t want to hurt you, but this thing will take your ear clean off if you’re not careful.”
Saba nodded and sat still while the guard rubbed soapsuds into his hair and proceeded to shave his head. He watched the hair that used to fall down to his shoulders land in foamy clumps near his feet on the floor.
It only took a few minutes before the man was done and moved around in front of Saba. “Put your head back,” he said carefully.
Saba obeyed, tilting his head back while another man started on his beard.
“You know, I could do that myself.” Saba mumbled carefully.
“And let you get your hands on this razor? That doesn’t sound like a good idea to me. Now shut your mouth so I don’t accidentally cut your throat.”
Saba closed his mouth and tried to keep as still as he could.
Shaving his beard took longer than shaving his head, but the man was finished before long. “Take that bucket and wash yourself. And hurry up, we’re running late.”
Saba got to his feet and walked over to the bucket, rinsing his head and face first. After scrubbing himself with the rag, he tipped the bucket over his head and let the cold water wash over his skin. Despite the shocking temperature, it felt refreshing to bathe for the first time in weeks. “Do I get something to dry off with?” he asked, setting down the bucket. When he looked up at the men, they were all staring at him again. “What do you keep looking at?” he growled, not able to tolerate the awkwardness.
“How old are you?” one of the men asked.
“Old. Why?”
A different man answered this time. “You sure don’t look that old.” He turned to the man who had performed the shaving. “We might have made a mistake with this one.”
“Never mind,” the guard said, putting down the razor and handing Saba a towel. “Dry off and put your clothes back on.”
CHAPTER 19
Two nights after writing the note, Maeryn stared at the ceiling of her bedroom and waited impatiently. She wasn’t sure of the time, but it had to be close to midnight. After feeding Aelia and putting her back to sleep, Maeryn’s mind began racing. Soon, the events that she had possibly affected in a tremendous way would unfold.
If the letter even reached its intended destination!
Zula had delivered it with no problems and made it back to the house without seeing Lemus. But since then, there had been growing in her mind a sense of doom. At first, she was pleased with herself and the idea that she could slowly destroy the man who tried to replace her husband, the man who had killed her only son. The Empire to which Adair had devoted himself had so quickly abandoned him, even though he had gotten into trouble by serving that very same Empire. It was exciting to think of the privileged information to which she had access on a daily basis. If she was careful, she might be able to do great damage to the Empire that had stolen her true love away. But now she was scared of the consequences of her actions. Maybe the letter was not the smartest thing to send. If Lemus found it, he might suspect her, and he had proven that he had no reservations about sending family members to their death. But she had already sent the letter, and there was nothing to be done about it now but to wait. As she watched the moon’s reflections off the ocean dance along the ceiling of her bedroom, she eventually drifted off to sleep.
~
The sound of a baby crying jolted her awake. Maeryn glanced around the room, now awash with the orange hues of early morning, looking for the crib and finding it at the foot of the bed. Aelia was sleeping soundly and Maeryn wondered if the sound that had awakened her had been just a dream. She pulled the covers back and got out of bed to stretch her legs. Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed loudly in the hallway. She could tell that it was Lemus—he had a certain attitude that permeated everything he did, including the way he walked. The footsteps passed the door to her room and entered the master bedroom at the end of the hall. From the agitated footsteps, his plans must not have gone well. Maeryn waited for a few moments, then left the room while Aelia was still sleeping.
She found Lemus out on the balcony that used to be her favorite place to think. Since Aelia had been born, he had not let Maeryn return to the master bedroom because of the child’s crying. He told her that a man of importance with his amount of responsibility could not afford to be disturbed at night with crying children. It was just as well though; she enjoyed not having to share a bed with him.
Lemus was standing at the railing, overlooking the city as it began to sparkle in the increasing light of the sun.
“Are you alright?” she asked quietly and carefully.
He didn’t respond but continued to stare out into the bay. After several seconds, Maeryn started to wonder if he hadn’t heard her at all. She tried once more to bring him out of his thoughts.
“Things are not well. You seem troubled.”
“I don’t wish to talk about it,” he stated flatly.
She didn’t want to give up so easily. “Well, if you decide that you want to talk, I’ll be in my room. Sometimes it feels better just to get the words out.” As she turned to leave, Lemus let out a sound as if he started to say something but decided not to. Maeryn stopped and waited for him to say what was on his mind.
“There was trouble last night,” he said at last.
Maeryn waited for the rest of his story, and when it didn’t come, she coaxed him out of his silence. “What kind of trouble?”
Lemus turned around from the railing and walked back into the bedroom. He slumped down on the bed and crossed his arms. “Last night …” he began, and then drifted off.
Maeryn figured he was either too worked up to think straight or else he was uncomfortable discussing the details of his business with her.
He took a deep breath and started again. “Last night there was a shipment of armor coming in.”
“And what was the trouble?”
“It was supposed to be attacked by a group of rebels, or so the rumor said. I pulled most of the men from the armory to help guard the shipment.” The despair in his voice slowly gave way to anger at being outsmarted. “Apparently the rumor was just a diversion, because they attacked the armory while we waited for them at the harbor.”
“Oh no!” Maeryn did her best to sound surprised.
“The two guards were killed and the rebels stole everything. Every last weapon and piece of armor is gone.”
“That’s horrible,” Maeryn said with as much disgust as she could muster. “Who do they think they are, that they should try to rise up against the Empire?”
Lemus lifted his head and looked at her with piercing eyes. Maeryn thought that she might have sounded a little too eager. When he smiled she felt a great deal of relief.
“Your patriotism is admirable, but there’s more. While we waited at the harbor we heard the sounds of fighting. I sent a man to check on the matter and he came back a short while later to inform me that the armory was under attack. So I pulled the guards from their positions at the harbor and we went to confront the rebels at the armory. By the time we got there most of them had disappeared. We defeated the ones we could find, but the bulk of them got away.”
“I’m sorry,” Maeryn offered.
Lemus continued without acknowledging her words. “When we got back to the harbo
r …” He trailed off and his skin grew red. He clenched a fist and finished his statement. “The rebels attacked the ships when we were at the armory. They looted the entire shipment and set the ships on fire.”
Maeryn really was speechless this time. The rebels had used her information to a far greater advantage than she had anticipated.
“Apparently there were two groups, and they knew exactly how we were going to respond.” Lemus put his head in his hands and massaged his temples.
“What will you do now? Do the soldiers have no weapons?”
“No, no,” he assured her as if he were speaking to a child. “All the soldiers here have weapons and armor, but I have an additional three hundred arriving in six weeks and now I won’t be able to arm them.”
“Oh!” Maeryn tucked that bit of information away in her mind as well.
“What’s worse is that I must dispatch a report of the state of my army to Orud at the end of the month.”
“Perhaps the Empire will ship more armor when they hear of this attack. Maybe they will even send more than armor to aid you.” Maeryn offered whatever suggestions came to mind. It was actually easier to make conversation when the words were not planned out beforehand.
“I don’t know what is worse, the Empire knowing of this failure or the fact that the dispatch rider could be attacked on the way and the report stolen.” Lemus got to his feet and walked back out onto the balcony. “Before last night, I wouldn’t have considered that the rebels were this well organized. But it is clear now that I have underestimated them, and I mustn’t let it happen again. This report will contain every detail of the state of my army, and it cannot fall into their hands. If they are able to plan such a successful attack, then surely they are a force to be considered, and it would not go well to have my enemies privy to all of my military capabilities.”
“Is there no other way to send a report to Orud? Maybe you could disguise the rider.” Maeryn couldn’t feel the least bit of pity for this man—the one who had raped her, had Kael executed, almost killed little Ajani, sent Saba away, and tried to take the place of Adair. She had to fight the urge to celebrate his failures right in front of his face.
“I can think of no other way that would be sure to escape the rebels … not after tonight.”
“I don’t pretend to understand how one would govern an entire city, but perhaps there is a solution. I have heard of a man in the city who raises birds and trains them to do all sorts of amazing things.”
Lemus darted a quick, angry glance at Maeryn. “What does this have to do with anything?”
“I’m sorry. I just meant that perhaps this man could help you. Zula told me that he has trained birds to fly all the way to Cerrar and back. The rebels would not be able to catch a bird if you sent the report that way.”
Lemus laughed out loud and turned around to face Maeryn. “You were right! You can’t even pretend to understand all that I must deal with. But it does feel better to talk about it. Leave me alone now, I must figure out what to do.”
Maeryn nodded and quietly left the man to his thoughts. By the time she got back to her room, she was overflowing with excitement. She had no idea that the information she gave to the rebels would have such a potent effect. It was a scary thing to write that letter, even scarier to have it delivered into the hands of the enemies of the Empire. She had partially expected to be caught and executed, but fortune had smiled on her this day. And the way Lemus opened up and told her such useful information; it was better than she had hoped for. For the first time since losing Adair, she felt that her future held promise. Aelia was still sleeping soundly and Maeryn stood over the child and watched as her tummy rose and fell with each breath.
* * * *
The evening proceeded slowly as Saba worried about the so-called big day. He didn’t sleep well and found his mind racing with anxiety the whole night. Finally, morning came, much the same as all the rest. The guard brought him a bowl of porridge shortly after his waking, and Saba sat in the corner, half chewing, half drinking his breakfast. He tried to pass the time by thinking about the garden back in Bastul. He had helped Maeryn with much of the planting and looked back on those times with fondness.
A few hours after breakfast, voices began to stir outside of his cell. He could also hear muffled shouting coming from outside of the building. He rose to his feet and walked over to the door, trying to peer out of the observation slit in the thick wood. When his door suddenly opened he was as shocked as the guard, who quickly jumped back and grabbed for his sword. Saba held up his hands in protest. “No. No. I was just trying to listen!”
When the guard regained his composure, he waved for Saba to come out of his cell. He pointed to the open door at the end of the room. “Get moving.”
Saba complied and headed for the door with the guard close behind. As he exited the building, the scene in the courtyard made his heart race. Dozens of old men were being ushered into groups and lined up side by side. All wore looks of fear and confusion on their faces, and Saba couldn’t help but wonder what was going to happen to everyone, himself included. The guard shoved him toward the nearest group, where several others were arranging the old men into orderly ranks at the points of their swords. Saba did his best to comply immediately with their commands and not appear as a threat, all the while thinking as quickly as he could how to escape. When the last of the prisoners were brought into formation, the guards stepped back and joined the others at the perimeter of the courtyard. Saba looked around and made a mental note of the number of prisoners.
Ten in each group. Probably ten or twelve groups. At least a hundred in all.
Suddenly, a dead silence fell over the crowd. Saba stopped in mid thought and instantly knew the reason. An overwhelming sense of dread poured over him. Not the kind that would make one want to run and scream, but the kind that is so powerful, it makes one paralyzed.
At the far right corner of the courtyard, a small group of soldiers appeared through a narrow gate. They strode confidently toward the groups of old men and stopped a short distance away. Pausing only for a moment, the small band of dark-clad men separated to reveal a mysterious figure waiting at their center. He was covered head to foot in a black cloak that hid his face and even his hands. The soldiers escorted the figure to the first group of old men, where he proceeded to grab hold of the frightened prisoners by their necks, lifting their heads. Saba watched as the leader, or so he assumed, carefully inspected each prisoner as one might do when buying livestock. Slowly, one by one, the cloaked man dismissed the prisoners, who were then taken away to a large building on the opposite side of the courtyard.
The time went by at an agonizingly slow pace as the cloaked man made his way through more than half of the prisoners before coming to Saba. Although he stood almost a foot shorter than Saba, like all the other guards and prisoners, he was still intimidating. Even at such close proximity, Saba was unable to see his face through the shadow cast by the thick, hooded cloak.
Suddenly, the man’s hand snaked out and grabbed him by the chin. Twisting Saba’s face from side to side with incredible strength, the man stepped closer. After a full minute of silence, he let go.
Saba exhaled and lowered his gaze to the ground, relieved at apparently passing the inspection. He began to feel dizzy and took a few deep breaths, but his vision was beginning to blur. The ground started to spin around his feet and Saba quickly shut his eyes to make it stop.
{Ahh … Sariel!}
A voice forced itself into Saba’s mind, pushing his own thoughts aside.
{I’ve found you at last}
Saba opened his eyes and looked at the cloaked figure, who was still standing in front of him.
{Yes, that’s right.}
{You didn’t think I would forget about you, did you?}
Though Saba couldn’t see the man’s face, somehow he knew that the words were not coming from his mouth. Saba looked around at the guards and prisoners, who were all watching carefully. N
one of them were speaking. He looked back to the shadow beneath the hood. “How are you doing that? Who is Sariel?”
{YOU DON’T ASK THE QUESTIONS HERE!}
{Not this time!}
The voice in Saba’s head exploded with fury, and Saba grabbed at his ears to make it stop.
{You had your chance, and now it’s my time!}
Saba was confused. He heard the man’s voice in his head without hearing him speak. It was as if he was hearing the man’s thoughts.
“Take him to the chamber and get rid of the rest of these,” the robed man said audibly and in a completely different voice, waving a dismissive hand at the other old men.
Suddenly, Saba was being pushed across the courtyard toward one of the smaller buildings, in the opposite direction from the rest of the prisoners. A guard ran ahead and produced a set of keys, unlocking the door into the small structure. Just as Saba reached the doorway, he heard screams. He only had time to glance over his shoulder before being shoved through the door, catching a glimpse of smoke pouring from the windows of the large stone building where the other prisoners had been taken.
Saba stumbled to the ground just inside the doorway. When he lifted his head, he saw a square room, twenty feet across, with stone walls and floor. There were no windows or features of any kind, aside from a small hole in the floor at one corner. The thick, wooden beams that made up the ceiling were the only break in the visual monotony of the room. Saba scrambled on his hands and knees to the other side of the room before turning around and sitting against the wall.
The cloaked man entered the room and held up his hand. “Leave us,” he said to the guards, who promptly did as they were told, locking the door behind them. “Now,” he said, turning his attention back to Saba. “He will speak with you.”
Saba quickly looked around the room, wondering if they were alone. The room was completely empty. He looked back to the mysterious figure, whose head was bowed and arms crossed. His body seemed to shudder before he lifted his head and resumed a more normal body language. Once again, Saba felt an overwhelming sense of dread that made him feel dizzy with nausea.
