In the Enemy's Service (Annals of Alasia Book 2)

by Annie Douglass Lima

  A surprised murmur went up from some of the prisoners. “Talifus is Alasian,” explained Bronin, beside her. “He was the captain of the guard under King Jaymin. We all trusted him.”

  “Then I’m extra glad I hit him twice.” Anya thought she could make out a lump on the side of the man’s head, and she couldn’t keep back a small smile of satisfaction.

  “Traitor!” shouted one of the captives. Talifus must have heard, because Anya saw his eyes flicker in that direction. But his face remained nearly expressionless. If anything, his look could have been called smug. None of the other soldiers reacted to the interruption.

  Anya listened while Captain Almanian explained the rules: anyone caught using weapons or harming Malornians would be killed, along with several of their friends. Anyone who didn’t work hard enough would get nothing to eat. When he asked if there were any questions, she almost raised her hand as she would have in school to inquire what she was supposed to do, but she didn’t dare ask this stern man. Maybe she should just stay close to Bronin and try to help him with the horses.

  The captain finished his little speech and ordered the captives to get into groups based on their jobs. Talifus stepped forward and pointed, indicating where they should stand. “Kitchen staff, over here. Laundry, here. Housecleaning, on this side. Stable, over there.”

  While the Alasians shuffled to their assigned areas, soldiers marched forward to supervise each department. As Anya and Bronin joined two other men and a woman in the designated stable area, she saw with dismay that Talifus had put himself in charge of her group. Noticing her gaze, he turned and gave her a ferocious scowl. “You’d better watch it, girl. I’m not going to put up with any nonsense from you. Just give me the smallest excuse, and….” He made a slicing motion across his throat with one finger. Anya cringed and slunk behind Bronin, wondering how she could possibly avoid making him angry if he was going to have his eye on her all the time.

  A kindly-looking man and woman whom Anya guessed were in their forties and both a little on the short and stout side were speaking earnestly to Lieutenant Lasden. He listened a moment and then nodded, raising his voice to address the captives.

  “Some of you appear to be wounded. If you believe you are too badly hurt to begin work just yet, let us know, and you may be given permission to be treated in the clinic first.” The three of them began walking from group to group, asking questions and briefly examining anyone who claimed to be injured. Now and then one of the captives would be pulled aside and directed across the wet courtyard toward the clinic.

  “Anybody hurt here?” inquired Lasden when they came to the stable workers.

  Nobody was, but Anya had a sudden idea. If their captors cared enough to allow their wounds to be tended, perhaps they would care if the soldiers mistreated them. “No, but this man said he’s going to hurt me,” she announced, pointing at Talifus. She gazed earnestly up at Lasden and opened her blue eyes wide in what she knew most adults considered a cute and innocent expression. “He hates me. He did this to me.” She pantomimed the man’s gesture. “I’m really scared. Please don’t leave him here to be in charge of us, or I think he might kill me.” A moment’s concentration on her fears, and Anya was able to make tears well up in her eyes.

  Lieutenant Lasden raised his eyebrows and turned to Talifus for his response. Feigning innocence, the other lieutenant laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

  “Don’t know what she’s talking about. I love children. Always have.” He grinned broadly at Anya, and the soldiers who had heard his earlier threat chuckled along with him.

  “That’s not–” began Bronin indignantly, but one of the Malornians turned and elbowed him roughly in the ribs.

  “Shut up, Alasian.”

  “Pleeease, Mr. Lasden,” Anya pleaded, afraid now that this conversation would make Talifus even more hostile toward her. She let a couple of tears slide down her cheeks. “You didn’t see the mean way he looked at me.”

  “You may address me as ‘lieutenant’,” the officer told her sternly, but she noticed that he spoke a little more kindly than any of the others had. Perhaps he had a good heart after all, invader though he was, and didn’t want to leave a child in danger.

  “If you please, sir,” ventured the short woman, who had been listening to the exchange, “we could use an extra set of hands in the clinic. Why not let the little girl come and work with Tonnis and me? That would take care of the problem.” The man beside her nodded in agreement.

  Lieutenant Lasden nodded as well, looking relieved to find a solution that wouldn’t require him to assume one of his fellow soldiers was lying. “Very well. Go with them, child. The rest of you, off to the stable.”

  Bronin gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Try to stay out of trouble,” he whispered. “Do what they tell you and I’m sure you won’t be hurt. I’ll see you around.”

  “Goodbye,” she whispered back. Glancing over her shoulder at Talifus, she almost stuck out her tongue at him, but thought better of it at the last moment and hurried after the man and woman.

  “I’m Eleya,” the woman told her when they were out of earshot. “What’s your name, and what’s a young child like you doing among the prisoners?”

  Anya introduced herself and explained briefly about Bronin, the stool, and being forced into the wagon.

  “Well, you’ll probably be safer with us than anywhere else,” Eleya assured her. “I’m not certain yet what work we’ll find for you, but for now you can just stay out of the way and wait while we treat the patients.”

  “Watch and see what we do,” Tonnis suggested, opening the clinic door for them both. “Later maybe you can help with a few of the simpler tasks.”

  Anya looked around with interest as she stepped inside. They were in a room lined with benches. A desk and chair stood in one corner, with cupboards and shelves built into the wall behind it. Five people sat waiting on the benches, nursing injured limbs and talking in low, worried voices. An open doorway led into a back room, and Anya, curious, peeped through to see lots more cupboards, an examining table with two lamps above it, and to the right, a stairway leading up. Beside the stairway was a small fireplace with hooks for hanging pots or kettles above the flames, and beyond it was a short hallway with two closed doors on either side. Against the wall opposite the stairway, a pump stood over a large wooden basin.

  Anya’s eyes widened. Running water indoors! The pump had always been outside in every house she had ever been in, both in Alasia and Malorn. In not-so-nice neighborhoods, sometimes you had to walk down the street with a bucket to get to the nearest pump or well. Of course, it made sense that a palace would have the best of everything, but still. She was impressed.

  Spreading her lacy skirts out around her, Anya settled herself by the hearth where her clothes would dry, then watched while the couple ushered one patient at a time into the back room. They all had wounds that needed cleaning and bandaging, which seemed to be Tonnis’s job. Eleya set water to boil in a kettle in the fireplace and stirred in something powdery from a jar, pouring the mixture into a cup for each patient to drink. Then she combined other ingredients with a little water to form a paste that Tonnis dabbed onto the wounds before bandaging them.

  Anya observed the proceedings with particular interest when the doctor brought a long, curved needle and a spool of thick dark thread out of a drawer, and proceeded to sew up one woman’s flesh to hold a wound shut. As much as Anya loved sewing, that was one use for a needle and thread that had never occurred to her. She was glad she didn’t have to feel it darting in and out of her skin, but it was fascinating to watch it being done to someone else.

  “Well, what did you think?” Eleya inquired when the last of the patients had been sent on their way. “You don’t seem squeamish about blood, I noticed.”

  “It was interesting,” Anya replied seriously. “Especially the sewing part. I watched everything, and I think it would be fun to help with some of it later. But are we allowed to have anything t
o eat?” It had been a long time since breakfast, and her stomach had been growling for the last hour.

  Tonnis chuckled as he arranged their supplies back in the cupboards. “Why don’t you two go and have lunch in the dining hall, and you can bring something back for me and the patients. Then we'll give Anya the full tour of the clinic and find some tasks she can help with.”

  Working here is going to be tiring but interesting, Anya decided that evening, plopping down with a sigh on the sofa that was to be her bed. She and Eleya had eaten lunch together in the dining hall, a delicious meal of roast beef and potatoes with seasoned vegetables, tasty even though they were cold. Back in the clinic, Tonnis had shown her the patient rooms down the hall and introduced her to their four occupants. There were three Malornian soldiers, all grumpy and impatient to be out of there, and one Alasian. Wennish, the Alasian guard, was too badly hurt to do much but lie still and murmur a few words of greeting, but Anya had helped to feed him beef broth, and he had smiled in thanks. Then, under Eleya’s instruction, she had lent a hand with other tasks around the clinic: boiling water to brew some sort of aromatic medicinal tea, serving it to the patients, washing up the dishes afterward, using a pestle to crush dried herbs to powder in a mortar to refill an empty jar, and finally sweeping and mopping the clinic floor. While they worked, a Malornian soldier had wandered in and out, tracking mud across the floor, keeping an eye on the Alasians, chatting with his wounded companions in the patient rooms, and generally getting in the way.

  At one point Lieutenant Talifus had stomped in, demanding a remedy for his sore head, and Anya had darted into Wennish’s room to hide. She whispered to the wounded guard the story of how she had hit Talifus with the stool, and he had smiled in pleased amusement from his bed.

  When Talifus had left, it had been time for supper in the dining hall: pork chops with thick gravy, creamy mushroom soup, and fresh rolls. There had even been dessert: apple turnovers; though the soldiers who had their meals first had eaten nearly all of those, and Anya had only tasted one bite. After that she had helped to serve supper to the four patients and then taken the dirty dishes back to the kitchen on a tray.

  On the way back, Anya had paused outside the clinic to gaze across the torch lit courtyard at the tall gates, wondering how often they were opened and whether the drawbridge beyond was usually kept up or down. She could see that the walls were much too smooth and high to climb over, but maybe she would have a chance to sneak out through the gates sometime. After all, though today had gone smoothly enough, she didn’t exactly want to spend the rest of her life as a prisoner here in the palace.

  Back inside, the patients had soon been settled down for the night. After the soldier had left and the clinic was clean and quiet, Tonnis and Eleya had brought Anya upstairs to their living quarters. “This is where we sleep,” Eleya had explained, opening one of the two doors to show a tidy little bedroom, “and over here is our sitting room. We’ll make up a bed for you on the sofa.”

  Now she bustled around getting blankets while Anya sat back with a tired sigh. It had been a long day, and though it hadn’t turned out as badly as she’d feared, she was exhausted from the hard work.

  “You can wear one of my nightgowns, but of course it will be far too big,” Eleya apologized, plopping an armload of bedding down on the end of the couch. “More comfortable than sleeping in such a fancy dress, though, and I don’t know what else we could manage for you.”

  “I do.” Anya brightened. “If you have scissors and a needle and thread – the fabric sewing kind, not the people sewing kind – I can alter your nightgown to fit. I’m good at sewing.” It would be fun and relaxing, too.

  At that moment there was the distant sound of a door opening, and someone called out from downstairs. “Hello? Is anyone there? I need help.”

  Eleya rose quickly to her feet and Tonnis appeared from out of the bedroom. Not wanting to miss any excitement, Anya jumped up and hurried after them down the stairs.

  An Alasian was staggering into the clinic, cradling his left arm close to his side. Anya recognized him as the man who had been captured just after she and Bronin had. He had been part of the housekeeping group, she recalled.

  “What happened to you?” Tonnis inquired, helping the man onto the examining table as Eleya relit the two hanging lamps.

  “I had a disagreement with one of the soldiers,” the man explained, wincing as Tonnis helped him ease off his jacket to examine the sore arm. “I hit him with my broom, and then he and two of the others threw me against the wall and knocked me down and kicked me.”

  Eleya clucked her tongue disapprovingly. “You shouldn’t antagonize those brutes. Some of them just look for any excuse to hurt people.”

  “I couldn’t help it,” the man protested, wincing once again as Tonnis moved his injured arm this way and that. “You should have heard the things they were saying about King Jaymin.”

  The outer door of the clinic opened once again, and Anya peered through the doorway to see a soldier striding through the front room.

  “Captain Almanian wants you to send over something for a headache,” he announced, sticking his head into the back where they were all gathered.

  Tonnis frowned. “We’re busy. I think this man may have a fractured wrist. Can’t the captain wait a bit?”

  The soldier snorted. “I sure wouldn’t keep him waiting, but it’s your funeral.”

  “Well, hold on just a moment, and I’ll give you something to take back to him,” Eleya suggested, pulling a cup out of a cupboard.

  “I’m not going back. I’m on my way to my shift at the gates right now. Take it yourself; he’s in his office.” The soldier turned and disappeared out the front door.

  Eleya sighed. “They always want our help at the worst times.”

  “I could go,” suggested Anya, eager to see more of the palace. “If you tell me where his office is.”

  The woman hesitated, and she and her husband exchanged glances. “I suppose there’s no harm in it,” Tonnis admitted finally. “I’ll need your help here, Eleya, after all.”

  His wife filled the cup with water from the pump and stirred in a spoonful of something powdery from a jar. “Tell the captain to drink this,” she instructed, “and don’t forget to bring back the cup afterwards. Go in as though you’re heading toward the dining hall, but then turn right and climb the stairs to the second floor. He’s taken the suite all the way at the end of the hall. And wear my coat – it will be cold out there now. Oh, and be polite. Call him ‘sir’ and don’t do anything that might make him angry.”

  Anya put on the coat that Eleya handed her, repeating the directions to herself so she wouldn’t forget while the woman helped her roll up the cuffs. Cup in hand, she was about to step out into the courtyard when Tonnis came hurrying after her unexpectedly.

  “Wait a moment,” he ordered, gesturing her aside into a dark corner of the front room where they wouldn’t be seen from the back or through the windows. He lowered his voice. “Do you go to school, or are you an apprentice?”

  Anya frowned, confused. “Well, both, sort of. Why?”

  “What I mean is, do you know how to read?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Tonnis glanced nervously over his shoulder as though to make sure no one was listening. “When you’re in the captain’s office,” he began again, even more quietly, “you might see letters or reports that he’s written, or that people back in Malorn have written to him. If you have a chance to read anything without him noticing, it could be helpful.”

  Anya stared back at him, her heart pounding, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. Something about the secretive way he was saying it excited her. Was she being asked to be a spy? It was like a scene from one of the adventure stories she liked to act out with her friends.

  “I’ll try,” she whispered back, “but what will you do with the information if I succeed?”

  He shrugged evasively. “I’ll tell someone I know,” he replie
d quietly. “Someone who might have a way to use it to help Alasia.”

  Anya smiled. She liked the idea of being able to help Alasia even while she was a prisoner. “All right. I’ll do my best.”

  She had no problem finding her way to the captain’s office. A couple of soldiers stopped her, one in the courtyard and one on the stairway, and asked what she was doing out so late. But when she showed them the cup and explained her errand, both let her proceed with no further questions. To her relief, she didn’t meet Lieutenant Talifus.

  Anya knocked on the door at the end of the hall, and a tired voice called, “Come in.” She pushed the door open and stepped inside.

  The room she was in looked as though it had once been a small sitting room, perhaps for guests staying in the palace. It contained a sofa, two armchairs, and a low coffee table, all of which had been shoved back against one wall to make room for the large desk that was now the centerpiece of the room. An open door in the opposite wall offered a glimpse into a bedroom where the captain apparently slept.

  Captain Almanian sat behind the desk, on which lay an untidy scattering of parchments, some blank but a few written on, along with a map and an inkwell. He had a pen in hand and was busily scratching away on one of the sheets, rubbing his forehead with his other hand, but he set the pen aside when she came in.

  “Who are you?” he demanded, frowning.

  “My name is Anya, sir,” she replied meekly, remembering Eleya’s warning to be polite. “I work in the clinic now.” She made her voice tremble a little as though she were frightened. In her experience, adults tended to be kinder to children they thought were afraid. When she was little, it had sometimes worked with her father when he was scolding her for something, but in recent years he had grown wise to her strategy. The technique was still effective with most of her teachers in school, though.