North & South

by K T Munson

  “You have been to Roanoak?” Celia stopped and went to face him as excitement overtook her.

  “Yes, my mother used to sell goods along The Knife and we would travel to Roanoak. Only once did I see the great city of Guildafrey across the lake and up close. Mostly we went to the Maiden’s Harbor and sold our wares, gathering others before heading north,” Rauf said and Celia saw an array of emotions play across his face.

  “How old were you when you were sold?” Celia whispered and he turned his eyes upon her in such fierceness that she was sure he wouldn’t answer.

  Yet after a moment, he whispered, “Eight.”

  Celia had to blink away her tears, she may not have any for herself, but for the small child that was bound to a life of servitude; she had plenty for him. She sniffled and quickly pushed the tears from her eyes. She had tasted love, no matter that it had turned bitter in her mouth, she had tasted it. Rauf had not; he was a man who had been bound for solitude.

  “I am sorry,” she said as more tears threatened.

  “Do not be,” he said carefully, “I was not sold here, I came here later when my master could not pay his debt to the Satin Pillow.”

  “I thought you liked me,” she whispered and then studied his face, “but you have never experienced life free of bonds since you were a child. You never experienced freedom as a man.”

  “Do not look at me with such pity,” he said harshly and he seized her arm as he tugged her down the hall. “I am not so ugly that my master’s wife did not take me to bed.”

  “That is not what I meant,” Celia said and let him pull her along, although it was hurting her arm. “I only meant you were very young. Even I knew love.”

  They reached the stairs and he started up them as they spiraled around to the second floor. She finished speaking when they were halfway up it and yet he kept hauling her along. She had not meant to anger him but could not think of a way to pacify him either. Celia felt suddenly useless as they walked down the hall with the great pillars.

  “From what I have seen, love is nothing but a fairytale that ends in tragedy,” Rauf said pointedly and when she tripped he turned and caught her. “And as you can see I am no prince.”

  Celia brought up her hands and he jerked away from them but in the end he let her touch his face. “I do not think you are ugly,” she whispered the words before she knew what she was saying.

  He lifted her up and pressed her into the shadows of the pillars. Her feet dangled as he pinned her to the wall and pressed his lips to hers with a growl of annoyance. Celia’s toes curled as his mouth was hot on hers. Her mind emptied and the world seemed suddenly so hot that she couldn’t breathe. He grunted and let her down before slamming a hand into the wall.

  She turned away and covered her face when his hand hit the wall. Celia felt her knees start to give way; she had felt his desire for her and it had washed over her like lava. She leaned back against the wall when she swayed and listened to his heavy breathing, as pain touched his face. He looked into her eyes, into her very soul, and she felt her chest rise and fall as she desired him like she had never wanted another before. Not even Harrison had made her feel this way. He turned his head away from her, as she started to reach up for him.

  “Why did you have to come here?” He whispered angrily and she could hear the agony in his voice.

  Her fingers hesitated and she felt his rejection before he finished. She curled them away and averted her eyes. Her jaw locked in place and she remembered what she was. She was a bought woman; Celia could not be free and neither could Rauf. She wore shackles of gold bracelets on her wrists and a collar of pearls around her neck.

  “Move,” she whispered as bitterness clogged her throat.

  When he shifted she slipped under his arm and dashed the last short distance towards her room. She rounded the first corner and nearly ran head first into the back of one of the other guards. He was holding a squirming girl. Vovo was covered in water or wine and it was dripping onto the floor.

  Vovo walked up and struck the girl. “I think it would be best if you were taught a lesson.”

  Celia took a step back and slipped back around the corner. No one saw her but she stayed and listened. Sadness and that same bitter taste in her mouth vanished in the instant of her fear. She heard the girl yelling and the slap of a hand again.

  Celia was not a coward but in an instant she was back in the red room with the old woman. Her knees shook and she felt herself flatten against the wall. She hid in the shadows and dare not move or scarcely breathe. The girl’s fate was her own making. As Celia stood there shaking, nothing scared her more than the color red.

  Chapter 24

  The Commander

  The day was hot in Eswan and growing hotter. Though the Ostapor would call it a mild day, to the Eswani it was a day for sweat. The Commander, born to the name Bane Volidar, observed the boys and girls alike as they went through the drills. Their arms and chests were covered in sweat as their feet slapped the ground. Bane was careful to keep his face unmoving as he watched them, but he wanted everyone.

  Bane always had a predilection for the pre-pubescent, and days like this when the girls drilled shirtless like the boys he always made time. They had started as an option to avoid his seed bearing fruit. Now it was because he liked the way they felt. He loved them most after the Hardening.

  Soon the Hardening would start. The kittens for some and the puppies for others, they would soon be old enough to give out. They would be told to train them, name them, and they would be left to bond with them. The following year they would be told to kill them, to put their hands around their animal’s neck and strangle it until it was dead. It was always such fun seeing their little hearts harden when the deed was done. That is when the children took their first step to become a warrior. He always loved finding the empty ones, broken from the experience, and shatter them further.

  Bane could all but taste their broken spirits.

  As he stood there he could not remember the name of the puppy that had been his, only the moment he strangled the life from its confused body. That stark memory that killed any desire he had ever had to love something. The Hardening was a passage for Eswani soldiers, very few failed but those that did were repurposed.

  “Commander,” a messenger said coming forward slowly.

  “What is it?” he asked, his voice that like of any normal man, with a hint of cruelty.

  “There is word from Ostapor,” the messenger replied and bowed as he handed over the letter.

  Bane opened the letter, breaking the seal, and read the contents. Ostapor was having trouble to the north, his spies within the city wrote. Apparently a small group of men had started attacking Masters throughout the northern and central part of Ostapor but had not turned south as of yet. Somehow all of their success seemed to suggest that they would.

  “Dismissed.” The Commander said and the man put his arm up and bowed his forehead towards his arm, before leaving.

  He gave a final glance at their sweaty bodies below before he turned away. His footsteps echoed through the tall halls of his stone fortress. He ruled with a stone fist over all of Eswan, and his people were kept safe from the Blood Riders, and those rebellious types. No one attacked Eswan directly, for every person knew of its might.

  If the Ostapor did not stem this rebellion, Bane would be forced to intervene. He rolled his shoulders and felt himself inhale in excitement. It had been a while since he had been able to test his army and his own skills. He very much hoped these men would continue. He would very much like to intervene.

  Chapter 25

  Ashira Highlander

  The strangeness of her new home did little to comfort her as the carriage brought her into Vinicia. She pushed back the curtain and stared at the great waterfalls that came down from the mountain. Looking at them, she felt that she truly had married the Water King. They were all the power that a Water King should have and the top of the tower of the fortress, Evermore, could ju
st be seen over the other buildings. It was carved from the white stone of the mountains.

  Missari tipped her head forward and gazed out of the carriage as well. Ashira didn’t like the carriage and would have preferred a horse under her. Yet the women seemed to take to the two carriages and they traded out who was in a carriage with her. Somehow Missari had made it so she never left Ashira’s side; she must be a clever little thing.

  “Why does my queen sigh?” Missari asked, her petite face gazing up at her, in wonder.

  Ashira hadn’t even realized she was sighing and was slightly embarrassed to have been discovered. All her worries were on her lips and they kept escaping in little emotional exhales. This world that was now her home made her feel like an outsider. She had a lot to learn about her husband’s realm and customs; she did not want to disappoint him.

  “It has been a long journey here to this strange place,” Ashira said glancing outside again. “I knew my function as a princess. I do not know my purpose as a queen.”

  “You will make a wonderful queen, just as you did a princess.” Missari reassured her.

  “I was raised to be a princess Missari, not a queen,” Ashira responded honestly. “Especially not a queen of Vargos.”

  “It will not matter,” Missari answered fervently, which drew the other women from their conversation. “You will be as you always were, nothing has changed.”

  “Oh dear girl, I should have left you in Roanoak,” Ashira said putting her hand on the girls’. “Everything has changed.”

  Missari pulled back from her, clearly unhappy as she retorted, “I do not understand.”

  “Look outside and tell me what you see,” Ashira said and shifting back the curtain so Missari could see clearly.

  “I see people in the streets and our guards. Houses and some vendors and there was a cat just now that ran down an alley,” the girl answered dutifully.

  “Do you see any children?” Ashira asked.

  The girl moved closer to the window and searched in vain before she admitted, “No.”

  “Do you see happy faces when they look this way?”

  “No.”

  “Do you think we are welcome here?”

  Missari’s head bowed and she shook her head. Ashira let the curtain fall and she settled against the cushioned seating. All the women were staring at her now, as though they finally understood where they were. They were sheep that had been brought in by the King Wolf into the wolves den.

  “You must all understand that this will not be like home, nothing will be like home. We will face many hardships here and I will protect you as best I can,” Ashira told them all and grasped Missari’s hand when the girl reached out for her. “I will need you to remind me of home.”

  Silence fell as the carriage jostled about before coming to a halt. There came a curt knock on the door and the women rushed forward to arrange her veil and fix her hair and clothes. After a moment the door opened and a hand appeared. Ashira smiled at her handmaidens before taking the hand and stepping out into the day.

  She nearly gasped at the great palace that towered over her. It was white stone that consisted of tall walls and great buildings. The towers were rounded and covered in designs. The designs were darkened as though painted and it made them seem powerful. Its might scared her and she put a hand to her chest as she gazed up at it.

  Ashira took the second step down as she glanced towards the man attached to the offered hand. She had expected the hand to belong to Lancel. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw it was King Highlander. Her husband was dressed in a deep blue and suddenly Ashira regretted wearing her overly decorated dark teal dress.

  “I had thought to show you Evermore Castle from here, my favorite vantage point,” he said, and Ashira stepped down onto the bridge. “What do you think of it?”

  “It is,” she started to say intimidating but quickly changed to, “breathtaking.”

  “Shall we walk?” King Highlander asked still holding her hand aloft.

  “Lancel,” Ashira said turning her head towards the mounted knight. “Would you be kind enough to take my handmaidens and have them settled? We are going to walk.”

  “As the Queen commands,” Lancel said with a bow of his head.

  Ashira smiled at Lancel as she joined King Highlander. He tucked her hand into his arm and she curled her fingers around his forearm. Ashira was happy for the veil that covered her face because she felt her cheeks redden.

  “Evermore was carved from stone by the hands of my ancestors. They labored with the people until this great castle was formed,” King Highlander told her as they walked along the wide bridge. “Although I have heard Guildafrey can boast many great buildings as well.”

  “Our palace is known as the Rainbow Palace,” Ashira answered proudly. “Although I must admit Evermore has its own beauty.”

  “I am glad to hear you say so,” King Highlander said as they passed under the great archway and all of Evermore became clear to her. “There is where you shall reside.”

  “Where?” Ashira said gazing up at the great towers.

  King Highlander pointed towards one of the great towers to the right. There was a balcony but Ashira could see little else. The balconies seemed so high up that all of Vargos would be laid before her. Although her home was beautiful, it could not claim to have towers as high.

  “There,” he said and then his hand swung a little to the left, “And its twin is mine.”

  “That seems very far,” Ashira said as she glanced between the two towers before looking at the other two on the left side. “Who uses those?”

  “That is the Tower of the Knights, with the White Knight at the top,” he said pointing to the one closest to King Highlander’s tower and then the one farthest away, “And the Coin Master.”

  “What is a White Knight?” Ashira asked as they began to walk again.

  “He is the leader of my guard. Within the city, the guards that ensure peace are called the City Guard and those within the palace are called White Guard. The White Knight is their elected leader,” King Highlander explained to her. “You shall meet him shortly.”

  “You do not choose their leader?” Ashira said surprised at their progressiveness.

  “I do chose my Coin Master but I do not have to worry about the gold rebelling,” he explained. “I do have to worry of showing favoritism and having very unhappy guards.”

  “Why is Lancel not your White Knight?” Ashira asked, for it was clear Lancel was well liked.

  “Lancel is part of my army and is my second in command,” he clearly was happy she was asking so many questions. “If I declare a state of War and am injured or killed, he becomes the interim Regent until I recover or a new King is sworn in. It is best to keep your guards and your army separate. Lancel is like the White Knight of my army.”

  “I understand.” Ashira said with approval. These Vargosian’s clearly understood how to run a kingdom.

  “You are happy with his service then?” King Highlander asked and put his hand on hers.

  She swallowed when his bare skin touched hers but she managed to say, “Very much.”

  “Who is your heir?” Ashira asked, realizing she did not know.

  He paused giving her a sidelong glance. “Presently my cousin until we bear a son.”

  When they went through the second gate and into the heart of the fortress, many more men and women were rushing about. Ashira felt a blush rise to her cheeks at his words, knowing that one day she would lay with him and bear him children. As they passed by, Ashira noticed that most of the people stopped to bow or curtsy but a few were too focused to notice them. Ashira giggled when a young boy appeared on the far side chasing a small bird. She’d heard of them, they were called chickens and a few had made their way to Roanoak.

  “What is he doing?” Ashira asked, with laughter in her voice.

  “Catching dinner,” he responded before he chuckled. “Come, I have something to show you.”

 
; Ashira turned from the boy as he jumped towards the chicken and failed again to catch it. She let herself be led deep into the castle. She could not stop glancing around and those that worked within the castle were careful not to glare. Unlike Guildafrey most of the walls were bare of decorations. Instead the pillars that supported it were covered in carvings. The simplicity in itself was surprisingly elegant and Ashira decided she liked it.

  “Where are we going?” Ashira asked when they passed another hall.

  “You shall see,” he answered cryptically.

  It was a few more minutes before he came to a small garden area. The walls were all open and could be seen from all sides. He walked around the edge of the garden and into the small enclosure at the other end. It took her a moment to realize where she was and what she was looking at.

  “As promised,” he whispered.

  She released his arm to stride into the heart of the temple. The sun shone down on the altar before her and the Eye of Sadar watched her. She felt her chest clench as emotions welled up. She had to lock her jaw tight to keep from crying. Ashira had been so sure that no part of her home would be here. She had assumed it would be months before her temple was done. Yet there it stood, completed and comforting.

  “You don’t like it?” King Highlander said clearly let down.

  “No,” Ashira said and then quickly corrected herself as she turned to face him, “I mean yes. That is a very confusing question to answer.”

  Relief filled his features and he leaned back on his heel. “It is very close to your rooms.”

  “I cannot thank you enough,” she said as though he had wrapped her in a blanket of warmth. “It is more then I imagined.”

  “I know they are usually painted more elaborately, but I thought I would leave that to you,” King Highlander said taking a step closer and taking hold of the edge of her veil. “You should know that you do not have to wear veils any longer. You are free to accept all or none of my customs and I would like to learn all of yours.”