Servants and Followers

by Courtney Bowen

  She needed to know for certain before she could tell Sisila what she suspected. She trusted that Sisila would keep this secret with Oaka involved, and Sisila had a right to know what was happening.

  “Thanks. I’ll go, unless you need my help.” Sisila said.

  “I can manage, but you can stay if you want, if you need some company. It must be tough living on your own with Oaka traveling.” Iibala said.

  “I’ve company right now staying at my house.”

  “What? Who?”

  “Jawen sort of moved out of her family’s home after Basha left. She couldn’t stand living with them anymore. She decided to leave, and try to start a new life for herself, moving in with me.”

  “How’s that worked out so far?”

  Jawen and Sisila living together? Of course, they’d always been together, even when the three of them were friends. Jawen had always been closer with Sisila than either one of them had been close to Iibala, but she’d gotten used to it.

  “She’s tried to get a job for herself, not much luck so far.”

  “Will wonders never cease? Well, good bye, and good luck with you and Jawen. Hopefully she’ll keep you company.” Perhaps she shouldn’t begrudge them their friendship, but sometimes it could be lonely to be the odd one out.

  “Do you suppose Mirari will keep our secret?” Sisila asked on her way out.

  “I believe she might, especially if I threaten to tell her secret that Mirari uses magic to heal people.” Iibala smiled. So many secrets.

  “What? How do you know that?” Sisila gasped.

  “Never mind, just go on home. I’ve some business to take care of here.” As soon as Sisila left, Iibala turned to her father. “Why did you have to be so stupid? You’re the only one I’ve got left.”

  Chapter 9

  Night Encounters

  The strangest things happen at night, the most

  Puzzling, inexplicable, and sensational things.

  We’re left scratching our heads and wondering,

  What has just happened? Where did the clarity of day go?

  ~ Clarity of Day, Kiwata

  Inhaling and trying to relax, appear laid-back, Brigga smiled as he passed by. “Smidge, I could use some help down here.” She nodded at the storeroom.

  “It’d be my pleasure, Brigga.”

  They walked down the steps, Smidge following her and closing the door behind them. Brigga braced herself and turned around, mouth parting as Smidge practically attacked her. He leaned in close, smothering her so that she could barely breathe.

  “Have you ever done something horrible you might’ve regretted?” Brigga whispered in between assaults.

  “Horrible? What kind of things you’ve got in mind?” Smidge raised an eyebrow.

  “Something evil, for one.” She suggested.

  “Well, now, Brigga, you’ve been acting sort of funny these past couple of days.” He sighed.

  “Funny? What do you mean by that?” She grinned.

  “At first, I thought it might’ve been my imagination when you started winking, smiling, and sashaying in front of me.”

  “You’ve got a good imagination, haven’t you? I bet you can think of something better.”

  “That I can. I must admit you’ve still got a body.” He gripped her tightly.

  “Thanks for noticing.” She slipped out of his grasp.

  “But then you started teasing and flirting with me, and I played along, thinking I might have some fun with you.”

  “How’s it been so far?”

  “Just fine, fair.”

  “Glad I rate so high.” She groused.

  “But then you kissed me, and I gave as good as I could back.”

  “Yes, you certainly did.” She rolled her eyes.

  “You might be a little rusty with how long it’s been since you’ve flirted with or kissed a man.”

  “Rusty?” She gritted out.

  But you’ve still got some skills, I’ll grant you that. I couldn’t wait to put them to good use.”

  “Why don’t you? I’m here now. Give it to me and I’ll try my best,” she challenged.

  “I would, but you just had to overreach, didn’t you, and try to get personal?”

  “Personal, what could be personal about this?” She teased with his clothes.

  “Darling, your tricks won’t work with me. Nisa tried them before and failed.”

  “Nisa?” Brigga recoiled, sickened at the thought.

  “She didn’t tell you? Of course, she probably wouldn’t want her mother to know what she’s been up to. Grown woman like her.”

  “What are you up to, Smidge?” she hissed.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know? Wouldn’t you all like to know just what I do with my free time, when I’ve got any? What makes you think you could succeed with me?”

  “A dumbass like you? Let me think.” Brigga tried to slip past him, but then Smidge slapped her back against the casks.

  Dazed, she tried to get up, but he pressed her back, almost choking her. Suddenly the storeroom door opened and though Brigga couldn’t get a good look with Smidge in the way, she heard Habala shout, “What are you doing? Leave her alone!”

  “Go away, bitch!” Smidge yelled back as Brigga felt faint.

  A blast of heat filled the air, and Smidge shrieked as a brilliant light appeared before Brigga’s eyes. She coughed as Smidge let her go and smoke wafted into her nose from the fire burning on top of his head.

  Brigga gasped in shock as Smidge ran away screaming, trying to stifle the flames scorching his hair. Habala hurried past him to check on Brigga, “Are you okay? What happened? Why were you two down here?”

  Brigga stammered, trying to come up with a good explanation, and then said, “He attacked me! You saw it!”

  “Yes, but you’ve been trying to attract his notice for a while now. I saw it and I don’t know why, or at least…does this have anything to do with Nisa and the Old Man? Are you spying on Smidge like Nisa and Old Man have been spying on us all these years?”

  “What makes you think that?” Brigga asked.

  “I’ve noticed some things over the years and I haven’t asked why whenever those two have protected my sons. But this is starting to get out of hand and I want to know why, what’s the reason behind this secrecy, spying, and protection? Where’s the danger coming from and why are you questioning Smidge?”

  “He might be a Follower of Doomba.” Brigga blurted out.

  “What, Smidge? How can he be a Follower of Doomba? He can’t.”

  “Wake up, Habala, and think back all those years to when Dorvina died. Where was Smidge then when you and Geda were trying to save his sister?”

  “No, he was trying to save her, just like us. He failed.”

  “Maybe that’s just what he wanted you all to think. And what about the forest fire when Sir Nickleby and the rest of the militia were endangered? Where was Smidge then?”

  “Stop it. This is just Old Man playing tricks again! It’s all lies!”

  “No, it’s the truth, you just don’t want to believe!”

  “Habala, Brigga, what’s going on, are you okay?” They heard Geda call out as he rushed into the room and down the steps. “Smidge came out with his head on fire, shouting obscenities at the two of you. We had to knock him out to douse the flames and keep him calm.”

  He stopped as he finally reached them, and saw the disheveled state Brigga was in, the bruises forming. “What did he do?”

  Habala and Brigga grimaced and looked down until Brigga finally said, “Smidge attacked me, Geda, and tried to molest me. He didn’t get very far before Habala stopped him.”

  “Oh gods, this…I’m so sorry, Brigga. This is horrible. He’s never done anything like this before, he—I’ll get the constable to arrest him.”

  “Go ahead and do that.” Habala stomped back upstairs.

  “Habala, wait!” Geda cried, then turned back to Brigga, stricken and awkward. “I’m sorry about everything. Thi
s isn’t supposed to happen. He’ll be punished, you’ll see, my own brother…I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.”

  Geda fled to pursue Habala and get Smidge arrested as Brigga was left down there to collect herself and contemplate everything that had just happened.

  * * * *

  Outside the inn, Old Man kept watch again, thinking he hadn’t seen Brigga much the last couple of days, when the front door burst open amid an uproar. That wasn’t too unusual with how rowdy the bar’s patrons could get, but there was a different tenor to the commotion, not a drunken, freewheeling brawl or ruckus, but a hard-edged, angry roar.

  Old Man sat up and watched as several men, including Geda, stormed out of the inn, dragging along a prone Smidge, whose head was slightly charred, up the street toward the town square. He caught a few harsh words, enough to alarm him that he went around to the back of the inn in time to see Brigga stagger out, shuddering.

  “Brigga, are you okay?” he asked, startling her slightly as he jumped down onto the ground and approached.

  Brigga slowly nodded, crying a little as she came up to Old Man and hugged him for the first time in many years. He was surprised, but hugged her in turn, especially as she started explaining what had happened.

  He held her close, but comfortably as he said, “Brigga, I’m so sorry, but why did you put yourself in such a dangerous situation without asking for help?”

  “Because I knew he might be a threat and I thought we should watch out for him and find out more about his involvement. I knew you’d object.”

  “With good reason.”

  “Maybe I underestimated him, too. I didn’t know Nisa had done the same spying on him before and that he’d suspect me if I tried to latch onto him. I didn’t make a good spy.”

  “You tried your best, though you shouldn’t have done that either. You shouldn’t have risked yourself like that when he should’ve been caught ages ago. It was my fault, I let him slip once. I underestimated him, and I don’t know for certain that he is a Follower of Doomba, but he’s got some of the strongest motivations to be one. I swear he’ll pay for what he did, and I’ll deal with him before it’s too late.”

  “Okay, but be careful.”

  “Take care of yourself.” Old Man kissed the top of her head and let her go as he slipped away into the night.

  She stared at the spot where he’d stood in some astonishment that he’d kissed her. It’d been years since they’d broken off their romance and she hadn’t known if he still felt the same about her. But now she had a pretty good indication of what he felt, so she had to take some time to process that.

  * * * *

  “How could you do such a thing, Smidge?” Geda confronted his brother as the man regained consciousness on their way to jail. “Hurt Brigga like that?”

  “She was coming onto me, trying to take advantage of me first!” Smidge struggled against the bar patrons holding him captive. “Trying to find out my secrets, just like her daughter before. I swear Old Man’s involved, too.”

  “What are you even talking about?”

  “She’s a fiend, they all are, including your wife. Watch out for Habala or she’ll burn you like she burned me.”

  “You’re crazy!”

  “No, I’m finally sane, and I’ve got to go.” Smidge lunged at one of his captors, startling the man, and he broke free of their clutches.

  He ran off as fast as he could, and the others followed, yet half of them were drunk and staggered while the others were still stunned. So Smidge gained a pretty good lead on them, and kept it up as he headed down an alleyway toward the forest.

  Suddenly Old Man dropped down on top of Smidge, smashing him into the ground. Smidge tried to get up and get away, but Old Man thrashed him thoroughly and tied him up with his willow whip.

  “If I had my way, you wouldn’t be around. But the others are coming, and things look suspicious enough that I should leave. But if you do get out of jail, don’t linger. Leave Coe Baba and its people alone and never return, or face the consequences.”

  With Smidge unconscious and secure, Old Man clambered up and out of the alleyway just in time as Geda and the barflies arrived shortly after to find Smidge. Geda and the others stared in disbelief at the scene and wondered what had happened here, but they ignored the jolt as best they could and gathered up Smidge to carry him to jail.

  * * * *

  The group had gotten themselves settled into their quarters, two bedrooms for the boys and Monika, in the east wing. Though some of the furnishings were ugly and decaying, they still appeared grandiose, and though these might be the smallest bedrooms in the castle, they were still larger than the guest rooms and even living quarters at The Smiling Stallion inn.

  “Can I take the bed?” Fato stared down at the four-poster monstrosity in the boys’ room.

  “I believe that’s for all of us.” Oaka rolled his eyes at the bird.

  “I claim the top then!” Fato tapped his talons on the tester that covered the bed and posts.

  “All right, suit yourself,” Oaka noticed Basha rummaging frantically through his bag. “What’s the matter?”

  “I can’t find my ‘other’ sword. I think I left it attached to the saddle.”

  “Your Coe Anji sword? Forget it.” Oaka waved his hand. “We don’t need it here. I think you should separate yourself from that thing. You’ve grown too attached to it.”

  “I might say the same thing about you and Sisila’s letter.” Basha said as Fato laughed.

  “That’s different.” Oaka said sharply before they heard a knock. “Who is it?”

  “Gnat, the servant who led your horses to the stables. I’m here to lead you all to the banquet hall now.” The voice on the other side of the door said.

  “Gnat?” The falcon frowned, peering at the door. “What type of a name is that?”

  “We’ll be ready in a minute,” Oaka called out before turning back to Basha, lowering his voice. “Is Gnat a boy or a girl? Kind of hard to tell.”

  “Does it matter?” Basha asked as Fato settled on his left shoulder.

  “I think Gnat’s a girl,” Fato remarked.

  “I don’t know. I just want to know.” Oaka shrugged.

  “You’re hopeless,” He told Oaka before answering the door. “Hello, Gnat. My name’s Basha.” He held out his hand.

  “And I’m Fato the royal messenger falcon, although everybody tries to ignore me.” Fato glared at Basha even as Basha tried not to look at him and laugh.

  Gnat giggled. “Hello, Basha, Fato, nice to meet you,” She smiled as Basha assumed Gnat was a girl. She shook Basha’s hand and petted the falcon’s head. “Are you ready?”

  “Thanks for that.” Fato purred, staring at Gnat.

  “Ready as I can be. I don’t think I’ve anything better to wear than what I’ve got on now.” Basha looked down at his clothes. “Oaka should be a moment.”

  “All right, I’m ready,” Oaka came out with a shinier face, as he’d cleaned it, and donned a fresher coat. “I hope I don’t smell.”

  “Like a pig or a monkey?” Fato asked.

  “Don’t worry, you look fine,” Gnat told Basha before turning to Oaka. “I don’t think I can smell you from here, so you pass.”

  “Can I get a pass too? I can smell him from here!” Fato waved a wing.

  Gnat frowned. “You shouldn’t.”

  The other door opened, and Monika emerged wearing a shirt, breeches, and boots much like what she’d been wearing. “All right, let’s get this over with.”

  “Shouldn’t you be wearing a dress?” Oaka asked.

  “I don’t think it matters much.” Monika turned to Gnat. “I don’t wear one when I’m traveling. Do you think it matters?”

  “Oh, no,” Fato rolled his eyes.

  “I don’t think so, though I usually don’t wear a dress,” Gnat turned away. “This way, please.” She walked down the hallway.

  “Trying to figure her out?” Basha whispered to Monika.

&nb
sp; “Quiet,” She shook her head

  Basha wondered if Gnat knew what sort of speculation was going on. Fato softly laughed.

  “The grand banquet hall is where you’ll go to eat your meals, although it’s grander and finer tonight. There’s going to be jugglers, acrobats, a clown, a bard, musicians and a fellow who has trained dogs to walk around in skirts.”

  “The dogs had better know how to dance, that’s all I’m saying.” Fato said.

  “Rude bird.” Gnat said.

  “I’m just honest, not rude!”

  “The bard will probably leave here tomorrow, as he’s already stayed a few days.”

  Gnat kept on talking excessively before they reached the banquet hall. They entered from the screens passage into a huge space full of long tables and benches that stretched to a far wall.

  The aisles between were narrow, but already crowded with guests and entertainers alike. The entertainers cavorted about trying to elicit a smile or a laugh from the guests going to their seats.

  Servants stood off to the side in the arcade, ready to be called when dinner would be dispensed. Gnat wandered off to join the servants, as the group stared up at the vaulted wood-beamed ceiling strewn with metal chandeliers, plaster-covered and painted masonry walls, and tiled floors sprinkled with rushes.

  Fato yelped when a passing clown playfully swiped at his tail feathers. “That’s an insult!”

  “Let it go.” Basha insisted.

  A gong sounded, startling them before they hurried to take their seats.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, let the feasting begin!” Lord Fobata shouted from his seat at the far end.

  The servants dispensed the first course as the jugglers came out, followed by the musicians with the next course, and then the acrobats walked about the hall on stilt pants before jumping down, leaping and tumbling on the floor. They built themselves up into a pyramid as course after course was served.