by Pedro Urvi
“Why have we been dressed like this?” Kata asked.
“It’s better than the paint,” said Idana with a smile.
“Yes, that’s true. I was painted yellow. What about you?”
“Orange. I wonder what it means…”
“Me too…” Kata hugged her shoulders and shivered.
“Don’t worry, we’ve survived till now. Let’s go on like this. If they want something from us, let me do the talking. I’ll try to keep anything bad from happening to you, I promise.”
Kata nodded nervously. Idana noticed, and understood her unease. As they advanced along a wide avenue, Idana began to notice some odd details. The first and most remarkable was that this avenue was one of the few made of stone, in that ring. Most of the routes inside the Ring were channels and water lanes, busy with innumerable small vessels. Carriages were the exception there, as boats seemed to be the usual form of transportation. The second thing which caught her attention was that the marble-white ground was damp, as if it had rained only a moment before. Idana glanced up at the sun, radiant above their heads, then back down at the floor.
How strange, it hasn’t rained, but the sun doesn’t seem to dry the dampness, she wondered as she noticed the fine layer of water covering the causeway. Something else even more curious began to make its presence felt. She touched her arm and saw it was wet. Dew, a constant dew, hardly noticeable. She touched her forehead and it too was wet. It’s light and warm, that’s why we don’t notice it. Strange and fascinating. If she had not been so scared that her stomach hurt, she would have enjoyed those discoveries. But the fear she felt for her own life and Kata’s did not allow her to find much enjoyment in all this.
Kata was staring around with pure incredulity on her face. They were surrounded by immense palaces with façades of sky-blue marble and granite, each more impressive and regal than the one before, as if this were a competition to be the most ostentatious. Hieratic Custodians guarded the entrances to these mansions, which were built out of great round columns which rose to unthinkable heights. Idana had to cover her eyes from the sun to make out the pyramidal roofs of those immense buildings. She saw an enormous palace with water falling from its roof to bathe all its walls. The entrance had been designed to be a waterfall which fell from an amazing height, covering the whole width of the building. Beautiful and crazy!
If the buildings left the onlooker breathless, their gardens rivaled them in splendor. Each palace was surrounded by gardens, with lakes and fountains of incredible beauty. The lake they were passing suggested infinite calm and was an enchanting blue, surrounded by many-colored flowers which Idana had never seen before. In the garden of the next palace was a triangle made up of three fabulous fountains carved in granite, and behind them a waterfall of crystal-clear water fed by a stream surrounding the whole property.
Kata stared open-mouthed at a colossal mansion built in the middle of an island in a huge lake, with a dock, right there on the other side of the avenue. The buildings and gardens the Gods had built were absolutely unbelievable, surreal. And joining them all there ran countless channels and water lanes.
“They must be the homes of the Gods,” Kata said.
The people Idana saw were Custodians, Eyes-of-the-Gods, but mostly slaves. They carried loads or worked unceasingly tending gardens and waterways. She did not see any Golden God.
“Yes, they must be, they don’t seem to walk the streets…”
They passed before a palace under construction and Idana’s spirits sank. Hundreds of slaves were working under the Oppressors’ whips, dragging great blocks of granite and loads of wood. They were all dressed the same way: very dark brown, almost black tunics and long deep blue headscarves which fell to their shoulders, tied with a leather strip. Idana could not make out their faces, but the sound of the whips and the moaning of the slaves reached her perfectly clearly.
“There are our men,” Kata said with a nod of her head towards them. “This is what they took them for.”
“There, and in everything they need to build this crazy splendor…” Idana said bleakly, looking at the great blocks of granite and marble. She knew they came from quarries and that many more of their men served in them.
The Eye picked up speed. Soon they found themselves in front of the biggest palace of all: an immense, regal castle with twelve interminable towers rising to the sky. Its walls, sky-blue mottled with white, seemed to weep a torrent of crystal tears which flowed smoothly to the base. Idana was left open-mouthed. The sovereign fortress was completely surrounded by water, floating on a turquoise sea. It seemed an image from some idyllic dream, except for her presentiment that forced labor, rape, torture or death awaited them there —if not all of those things. She sighed, braced herself and held the other girl’s hands.
“Don’t worry, it’ll all be fine.”
“Do you really think so?” Kata asked. There was a hopeful prayer in her eyes.
“Yes, I believe it,” Idana lied, forcing a cheerful smile. She was trying to protect the poor girl, since there was nothing else she could do.
From the water slowly emerged a bridge which joined the avenue to the palace gate. Both prisoners watched, spellbound. The convoy crossed the bridge and entered the castle until they reached a great round uncovered courtyard. Here they stopped. The Eye in charge of the procession conferred with another Eye who came out to greet them. A dozen Custodians accompanied him. They were taken down from the cart and delivered. The Eye and the Executors who had taken them there turned on their heels and left immediately.
Idana looked around the courtyard. On one side were slaves tending to the horses, and further down more slaves were sweeping floors and cleaning walls with forced energy.
To work here cleaning like a slave for the rest of my days isn’t such a horrible end after all, she thought when she saw them. She was trying not to think of worse alternatives.
“Follow me in silence,” the Eye said in that squeaking unpleasant voice, and led the way.
Idana soon lost her sense of direction, as the castle was a true labyrinth of chambers, ante-chambers, endless corridors and different levels of spiral staircases. She was aware of a strong presence of Custodians on guard in all the corridors and rooms. Safety seemed to worry the Golden Gods who lived there. The dampness was very obvious inside; the walls seemed to be sweating, and as they went on they seemed to be walking on a thin layer of water.
Suddenly a door opened on Idana’s left and the Eye stopped at once. The four Custodians with them straightened. A Golden God in all his splendor came out of the room. The God only wore a silver kilt, leaving the rest of his body bare. Idana was astonished, not only at the sight of the God but for what her eyes glimpsed in the chamber behind him. She had to blink hard and focus on what was going on inside the luxurious room. In the center was a great round bathtub with white vapor coming from it. In it half a dozen Gods were soaking, revealing their golden skins and slender bodies. With them were over twenty beautiful slave girls… naked. Idana swallowed hard and went on looking. Around the tub another half-dozen Gods were lying among cushions and silks, with more than thirty more slaves tending to them.
New slaves? the God asked the Eye, who waited with his head bent, looking at the floor.
“Yes, my Lord.”
Are they for the harem? This one might satisfy us. She’s not quite tall enough, but a little variety is always entertaining. He pointed to Idana.
Her heart almost stopped.
“I’m very sorry, Lord Cixta they cannot be for the Harem… they are Selected.”
Ah, true! They’re marked. I hadn’t noticed the tunic. Go ahead then, I’m sure my cousin Lord Saxti will be looking forward to receiving them.
“Thank you, my Lord,” the Eye said with a bow, not daring to look up, and went on.
Idana’s heart resumed its beating. Not the harem! I beg you, Mother Oxatsi, not that, please! she thought in absolute terror. She glanced at Kata, and was answered by a look of p
anic in the other girl’s eyes.
They arrived at a heavily guarded antechamber. The Eye stopped at the door and requested an audience, and for a long while they waited. Idana was rubbing her damp hands together, growing more and more nervous. They were finally admitted. Idana saw an intricate throne at the end of the huge hall, and guessed they were in a royal chamber. The room was extraordinary: an endless curtain of water fell down every wall, and under it rows of golden runes glowed dimly. The floor was transparent, and below it the turquoise ocean on which the castle floated could be seen. It gave the impression that they were walking directly over the sea. In the center of the room a giant fountain sent a stream of blue water towards the high dome. For some inexplicable reason the water did not fall back again.
“On the floor, slaves, you are in the presence of the Gods!” the Eye ordered excitedly in a squeaking murmur.
Idana and Kata knelt and remained with their faces on the floor and their arms stretched out. The Eye announced the retinue with an elaborate bow.
“My venerated master Lord Saxti, heir to the crown of the House of Aru. Lord Adamis, heir of the House of Eret, of the First Ring, sends you the Selected from the Harvest which by sacred ritual corresponded to your royal house.” He presented the two young women with a wave of his hand.
The God was standing before the throne. Idana recognized him, and also the muscular Warrior-God beside him. They were both dressed in soft varied shades of blue. They wore armor of an intense indigo with intricate gold and silver embroidery. But what caught Idana’s attention was not the two Golden Gods but the person occupying the throne. This was not a God but a Goddess. More slender, beautiful and delicate than the two male Gods, with extremely soft, feminine features, and almond-shaped eyes of blue-gray which were fixed on Idana and Kata. Her skin was a slightly paler gold than that of her masculine counterparts. Her hair was white as snow, and this was the only detail which betrayed her age. The Goddess stood up, and as she did so Idana noticed something else: her body was consumed and gaunt, its extreme fragility and thinness covered by a silver and blue tunic with ornamental embroidery.
Very slowly she moved toward the two slaves, barely touching the floor with her feet. Idana watched her out of the corner of her eye, afraid she would be caught doing so. The Goddess-Queen eyed them for a long moment. Idana stopped looking and pressed her forehead on the floor.
And in the presence of the two slaves, without their being aware of it, there followed a significant conversation.
They have been selected? the Queen mentally asked Lord Saxti.
Yes, my lady mother.
What quality?
The slave on the left is Orange, the one on the right Yellow.
A pity, they might have been better. I am always optimistic about the ritual.
The harvest was not as expected. There was only one Red…
I hope she was not granted to that brainless cretin Lord Asu. His lineage is a dishonor to all our race.
No, mother. She was granted to the House of the First Ring. Even so, Lord Asu tried to make her his. It was a painful spectacle. Blood was nearly shed, but fortunately Lord Adamis saved the situation.
The House of the Second Ring and that brainless heir Lord Asu will end up starting a war. Luckily the House of the First Ring has an heir with a good brain. Watch Lord Adamis closely, my son, and Lord Asu even more so. We must watch all their movements. Remember: keep your allies close and your enemies even closer.
Yes, mother, that is what I am doing. Our relationship with Lord Adamis and his House is exceptionally good. As to Lord Asu, I keep close and watch him with the greatest attention and prudence.
You please me, son. Do we have spies well placed inside their houses?
Yes, mother. They report punctually.
The Queen nodded. She turned her attention to the two slaves, who without daring to look at her were shaking like lambs.
They will do. Take them and prepare them.
As you wish, mother.
Kneeling on the floor, Idana stared at the great sea through the transparent surface, wondering why there was such a grim silence. A terrible thought was engraved in her mind. Not the Harem, please, not the harem. She began to shake uncontrollably. Suddenly huge hands seized her by the shoulders and took her away.
Meanwhile, in the first ring, Kyra was gazing out from the elevated window in one of the towers on the eastern face of the great palace where she was imprisoned. She was clutching the bars with fury as she watched more than a thousand slaves pulling on ropes to raise a colossal statue of a God-Warrior. It had taken her more than an hour to make a rough count, but now she had no doubt about it: there were more than a thousand men there condemned to forced labor until they died. They all wore dark brown tunics and their heads were covered with a long whitish scarf, almost transparent, held in place by a leather strip. The whips of the Oppressors punished them while a group of Executors watched attentively. Already in the short time she had been watching half a dozen men had been removed. They had collapsed, unable to bear that brutal effort and punishment.
“Damned soulless Gods!” she muttered under her breath.
The door of the room opened with a creak, and two slave girls walked in silently with their heads bowed in a servile posture. They carried silver trays of fruit and other food. A third followed and placed a large earthen jar of what looked like wine on the white marble table. The smell of roast meat reached Kyra’s nose, and her stomach complained desperately. But something caught her attention more than the food: no Eye-of-the-God, Executor or guard of any kind accompanied the slave girls, and this puzzled her. The three turned and made to leave the room.
“Wait!”
The three girls stopped and turned, still with their heads bowed.
“Wait… who are you?”
The first of the slave girls raised her head and put her hand to her ear, then shook her index finger. Kyra, not understanding, took a step forward and stared into the girl’s blue eyes. She was surprised by the extreme pallor of her face, as if she were ill. Then she looked at the other two. And was left speechless.
Under the slave scarves which covered their heads, she realized something impossible: the skins of the two girls were not the same color as hers, the color of the Senoca. She stared at them wide-eyed. The tallest had red skin, a ruby tint which was charming. And if that girl’s face had made an impression on her, her companion’s left her speechless: it was a soft exotic green, a color she had never imagined even in dreams. How could this be? They were slaves like her, but not of her own race. There was no one within the Boundary, among the People of the Sea, with features like those. It can’t be! The damned Priests have always told us that the Senoca are the only people in existence, chosen by the Golden Gods to serve them. There aren’t any other peoples or races. And yet here were these three women in front of her, and none of them were like her: very far from it!
“Where… where are you from?” she stammered.
The slave girls looked at her, and one of them shrugged.
“You can’t talk? Or you don’t understand me? Say something, please!”
And at that moment a mental blow reached her. Clear and concise. She knew who was at the door.
They cannot answer you because they do not understand you.
Kyra turned to the door and saw the slender Golden God watching her with those enigmatic almond eyes of a gentle blue-gray. That damned Adamis!
The three servant girls threw themselves on the floor at once. Adamis eyed them from the door. You may retire. The slaves got to their feet and withdrew at once, heads bowed.
“What have you done? Did you cut their tongues out so they’re less bothersome?” Kyra snapped. She was angry not only at her own situation but with everything she was discovering, perhaps more with the latter.
Adamis threw his head back as if surprised at the question, and a smile appeared on his golden face. He shook his head and entered the room. He was followed by the en
ormous bodyguard, whose powerful footsteps echoed on the floor.
“Does he follow you everywhere, like a dog?”
The face of the God-Warrior, usually a cold mask, stiffened. Kyra was sure that the comment had displeased him considerably. The bodyguard made a move towards her, but Adamis held him back.
Leave us alone, Rotec.
The Warrior exchanged a look with Adamis, and a moment later, with a nod, he left the room.
I seem to remember warning you clearly, slave, that you should learn to stay in your place or you would suffer the consequences. It is not in your best interests to insult my rivals, still less my friends. Do you never learn anything from experience? That is a very undesirable quality.
Kyra wanted to reply angrily, but something in her subconscious stopped her. He’s right. I can’t go on letting myself be driven by my emotions, I do nothing but get into trouble. I must be smarter, think like Yosane, act like Ikai. I must think and plan before I act, before I open my blasted mouth. She was aware that Adamis was right, but even so, she was not going to admit it.
“Friend? He must be another slave, like the thousands of slaves you exploit to death,” she said. She pointed to the great statue which had now been raised into place in front of the palace. As soon as those words were out of her mouth she wanted to stop them, but she could not. It was going to take some time and a lot of effort to gain some control over her character and her tongue.
You should not judge so lightly what you do not know. Rotec is a great friend, my best friend in fact. I would trust him with my life with my eyes closed. And he is not a slave, he is a Warrior. His caste is in charge of protecting us all, the nobles, the Royal House and its members. He fights the battles in the event of a confrontation, and leads the army of my House.
“Of your House? Are you royalty?”
Adamis smiled and went up to the food. You should control that tongue of yours, slave. Showing respect is not a sign of submission but one of intelligence. I would remind you that the fish dies by the mouth.
