Bones of the Earth

by Jason A. Gilbert

  The dirt and stone of the avenue crunched beneath her feet. The sun of the autumn day had evaporated any moisture that might have remained. Laila enjoyed the semblance of heat while it lasted. This evening, there would likely be a breeze off the lake as the sun set, and it would cool the city once again. For now, she was happy to be wearing a thinner robe and not one of the heavier, more ceremonial robes she typically wore when visiting the Consulate.

  She passed a number of estates similar to her own as she walked. Some were gated as hers was, others were open to the avenue. Voices drifted out to her on the afternoon air . Many of the younger children would have already returned from the Academy, and she could hear their play as she passed a few of the houses. She smiled to herself. That had been her not long ago. Playing in the gardens with Selene and chasing Clara around the house as the housemaid prepared for her parents to return for the evening. Even though she had grown out of those habits already, there was a part of her that missed those times before the pressure and responsibility of Citizenship loomed over her.

  She turned down the main road that led from the city's edge to its center, where the Consulate resided, as she mulled over her future. Carts, pulled by men and by mules, moved up and down the road. The road was wide enough to accommodate all of the market traffic as well as the multitudes of people on foot. She slid to the far side of the road, avoiding the cart traffic and trying as much as she could to blend into the crowd.

  After seeing the strange old man this morning, her thoughts had continually returned to him. He was so odd, so unlike everyone else who resided in Terus. What had he been doing in front of her house? It had seemed like he was looking for something. She had not said anything to Clara because she knew the housemaid would have felt the need to bring it to her parents’ attention, and as nothing untoward had happened, Laila did not think that it was necessary to bother them.

  The sight of a Consul walking past her jarred her back to the present. She was not going to see her father because of the odd incident earlier. She was hoping her father would be able to quell some of her anxiety about tomorrow.

  To distract herself, she studied the people making their way to and from the city center. Many of those leaving were the farmers and miners who lived outside the city walls. Their carts were mostly empty, having sold their wares in the market during the day. Clara’s head echoed through her head, the process of lesson after lesson.

  And what is the purpose of the delineation between the castes?

  To make sure that those suited to specific tasks are assigned to them. To increase the efficiency of the populace and ensure that everyone's needs are met.

  She knew the logical reasons behind the separation, but she was not always sure she believed that it really was the best thing for Terus or any of the other cities in the Arturan Confederacy. The castes seemed so rigid. Sure, the Test was what determined your place among the castes, but the hope of moving between those castes once you had been placed by the Test was non-existent. Someone suited to being an Artisan would certainly fail as a Guardian, and those suited to the direct ways of the Guardians would fail if tasked with the subtlety of governing that the Consuls dealt with.

  She saw that reality often enough in her own parents, as much as they would have preferred to hide their arguments. Her mother rarely agreed with her father’s subtle ways, the playing off of favors and deals in order to accomplish things in the Consulate. But, even though she agreed with her mother that governing the city should not need to be so convoluted, she also understood the necessity, even when she had hesitations about the philosophy behind it. She knew what Clara would say to her concerns.

  Terus and the Confederacy has existed this way for hundreds of years. And in that time, how many wars have there been amongst the Confederacy?

  None.

  Exactly. Now, why is that?

  Laila understood the logic behind argument. But her mind, and more likely, her heart, could not accept that their current system was the only way to exist. Regardless, there was nothing that she, at only fifteen years, could do about it. Perhaps, if she did become a Consul, as her father, she could make changes from that position. That thought sparked new hope. Her father was always telling her how the Consuls could enforce change if they believed it was necessary for the greater good of Terus. She could not think of an example of when that had happened, but it was possible. With renewed bounce in her step, she entered the city center, feeling better about her questions for her father.

  The main market was beginning to close for the day. Laila could see the merchants closing the shutters on their stalls. Others were packing up carts similar to the ones she had seen on her way into the city center. She looked for Dio, to see if his stall was still open, but it was closed, and he was nowhere in sight.

  She spotted a fruit merchant near her who was just starting to pack up. Laila walked over, reaching into the small purse strapped to her side for a silver coin.

  "Good day," the merchant said, seeing the coin in Laila's hand.

  "Hello, may I have a basket of those strawberries?" Laila asked, her voice quiet.

  "Of course." The woman grabbed one of the small baskets and handed it to her.

  Laila handed her the coin with her other hand.

  "This is too much, child." The woman began to search through her own purse for change.

  "It's okay. Keep it." She had easily paid twice what the strawberries were worth, but she just wanted a snack and did not want to wait for the merchant to count change.

  "Thank you." The merchant bowed her head low. Then, noticing the pins that held Laila's robes at her shoulders, she said, "Are you Consul Wardein’s daughter?"

  Laila lowered her head; she did not like being recognized as the daughter of a Consul. It usually brought unwanted attention.

  "Yes." She spoke quickly, trying to avoid further conversation. "Thank you again, Shi."

  She raised the strawberries and bowed her head to the merchant, who, thankfully, let the matter drop. Consuls’ families tended to keep to themselves. And being the only daughter of one of the more popular Consuls did not make that easy for Laila. Anything the merchant had been likely to say, however, would have faded when she realized that Laila still wore the robes of a child, not a Citizen. She bowed her head in return and returned her attention to her fruit.

  Laila picked up her pace once again, intent on getting to the Consulate without any additional distractions. She bit down on one of the strawberries and enjoyed the sweet flavor. She casually tossed the top of the berry into a small flowerbed as she walked.

  Reaching the steps to the Consulate, she made her way up as quickly as she could, leapfrogging as many steps as possible, a game she had played since she was a little girl. The pressure of the day had seemed to bring out her memories of childhood. As she leapt up the steps, she did not see the figure walking up the steps in front of her; she made one more jump and her downturned eyes caught the edge of robes just before she crashed into the figure. Trying to maintain her balance, the strawberries dropped from her hand, landing on the steps. She cursed, the one she’d heard slip from Dio earlier, and began to gather the fruit.

  As she knelt to pick up the few that were still intact, the person she had nearly run into turned and knelt down to help her. She looked up and could just make out the face in the shadow of the sun. It was Torin.

  "Enjoying the fruits of the market." He smiled at the small pun.

  Laila accepted the last fruit as he held his hand out. "Yes, Consul." She lowered her head in polite deference.

  "Please, Laila. I've known your father for years. Stand up, girl."

  Laila reluctantly straightened, but she kept her eyes downcast, not sure how to address the Consul.

  "And what brings you here?" he asked. "To see your father, I'm assuming?"

  "Yes, Consul."

  "Well," he began, placing his hand lightly on her shoulder and guiding her up the remainder of the steps. "That is perfect, because
I was on my way to see Alain myself."

  "Oh, good..."

  As they walked into the large, open halls of the Consulate, Torin took his hand from Laila's shoulder, letting her walk on her own. The halls were still bustling with the end-of-the-day tasks of the Consuls. Laila saw various assistants, dressed in their plain white robes with a single stripe of gold across the chest, running across the floor, trying to complete whatever last-minute assignments their particular Consuls had given them. A large area to her right was full of multiple benches with people, not Consuls, waiting to be given an audience with one of the Consuls. Most were Citizens, hoping to plead their case for some minor favor: a ruling their way in some court case, a grievance against another Citizen.

  She did notice a few of the Togati sitting to one side, away from the Citizens. Their simple tunics tied at the waist had the look of a fresh cleaning, clearly trying to put on the best appearance for the Consuls. Even though the Togati were not Citizens, even they could bring grievances to the Consulate, though only in the most extreme circumstances, violence and cruelty, were the rights of a Togati given precedence over the interests of a Citizen.

  The people waiting on the benches watched Laila enter while accompanied by Torin and gave her sharp looks. Many of them had probably been waiting for hours, especially the Togati, and here she was, simply walking in. She lowered her head and tried to will Torin to walk faster. They passed through the main hall quickly, ignoring the assistants. Turning down one of the side halls, they came onto Alain's office. There was no door; the Consulate was considered a public place, therefore there were no doors present. It gave people the sense that they could speak freely and reduced the chances of the Consuls making promises they could not keep. Of course, giving people the sense of something and that same thing actually happening were two different ideas entirely. Laila shook her head, trying to clear herself of the cynicism that had plagued her today.

  Torin tapped his hand lightly on the archway as he and Laila walked into the office. Alain sat behind a large wooden desk piled with paper. He looked up as they entered. Laila could see the dark circles under his brown eyes. His lightly tanned skin seemed drawn and almost pale. She often thought her father worked too hard.

  "Laila? What are you doing here?" he asked.

  "We…ran into each other as she made her way in from the market," answered Torin before she could respond. "As I had business to discuss with you as well, I thought I would join her."

  Alain nodded wearily. He motioned for Laila to come in and sit across from him at the desk. As he did, an assistant rushed into the room.

  "Consul Torin!" he said, trying to catch his breath. "Consul Enid wishes to speak with you about one of the water districts."

  Torin raised his eyes to the ceiling, imploring. "Of course, as soon as I get here..."

  "Go," said Alain. "I'll speak with my daughter and find you if you have not returned."

  Torin nodded his head to Alain. "Thank you, as always."

  And with that he was gone.

  Alain then turned to Laila. His eyes told her that he was not happy with her sudden appearance here.

  "I hope there is a good reason you are not still studying with Clara, Laila-sa."

  "I finished," she said.

  "Finished? You don't finish studying for the Test. You prepare, constantly. What have I been telling you for the last three months? Without preparation you’ll end up as one of the Togati, not even offered Citizenship. And you'll no longer be able to live in my household!”

  Laila found herself drawing back from the anger in her father's voice. They had discussed the Test at length, but she had never seen him be so vehement about the repercussions. For a moment she felt moisture threaten at the corner of her eye, but she quickly brushed it aside, refusing to let her father’s anger get to her.

  Seeing her reaction, he visibly calmed himself. "I'm sorry, child. I did not mean to yell. My anger is not directed at you. I... It has been a busy day. Preparations for the Test always are. You are not the only one who feels the pressure."

  The Consuls were the ones who conducted the Test, and Laila had seen her father go through this process every year.

  "Of course, Father," Laila returned formally.

  "No need for that, Laila-sa. Come, what did you want me for?" He was trying to make his voice sound more comforting, but it only enhanced the weariness Laila had seen when she first arrived.

  "Do you like Consul Torin?" she asked.

  Alain sat back in his chair, a light smile crossing his face, eliminating some of the fatigue. "Torin? Why do you ask?"

  "He just seems…false. I mean, he's always nice, at least to me. But I've heard rumors. He's not like that in the Consulate, is he?"

  Alain's smile began to fade slightly, "What happens in the Consulate is not a matter for rumors. You know that. There are things that we do that have to be done, regardless of the consequences. That doesn't always make us friends to the other Citizens."

  "I know, I know. I just... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to question you."

  "Don't be sorry, child. You're my daughter. If you can't question me, who can?"

  "Mother."

  Alain laughed out loud, the sound echoing through the small office. Laila found herself smiling along with her father; it was good to see him laugh.

  "That is true, Laila. Your mother can, and she does so frequently. But, why are you really here? Torin will likely return any minute. What did you really come for?"

  "I'm just... I don't know. I guess I'm more worried about tomorrow than I thought. What if I'm not placed as a Consul? What if...what if I have to leave Terus?" she felt her emotions begin to rise again, but she pushed them back down. Her father would understand her apprehension, but not her outright fear; she had only ever been able to share her emotions with him to a certain degree. Her mother was her true outlet.

  Alain stood and moved around the desk to lean against it in front of Laila. He bent forward and put his hands on her shoulders, a surprising gesture from him. She looked up into his eyes.

  "No matter what happens, you will always be my daughter. I know your mother and I have been putting a lot of pressure on you, and the Test is important, but you need to know that not only will we always be your family, you also have nothing to worry about. You are a smart girl." She scoffed at that. "You are, Laila. You see things differently than some, but that doesn't make you unintelligent, it just gives you a different perspective. Don't give that up."

  “And if I am not offered Citizenship? If I am to become one of the Togati?” she asked, the emotion in her voice barely held in check.

  “I don’t believe that will happen. It has been many years since any Citizen’s child has not been offered Citizenship, and I certainly do not see it happening with a child of mine.” The familiar pride had returned to Alain’s voice.

  "All right," she said, getting control of herself once again. The fear of not being offered Citizenship would not disappear, but she could see it would be pointless to discuss it with her father. "I just don't want to disappoint you or mother."

  "Don't worry, child. You will be fine. I fully expect to see you running around these halls by next year."

  Laila smiled and nodded her head. It was true, she did not want to disappoint her mother or her father, but she did not look forward to running around as an assistant in the Consulate as much as they might think she did. There was a little part of her that remembered the ships this morning. But, freedom like the sailors’ meant forsaking Citizenship, which no one had done, at least that she knew. No, if she was to become a Citizen, and a Consul at that, she would be the best one she knew how to be. And perhaps she would be able to facilitate her own changes in Terus, with time.

  Alain returned to his seat behind the desk and Laila began to stand, getting ready to leave, when Torin walked back in.

  Seeing Laila, he hesitated for a moment. "I'm sorry, Alain. I can come back, if you'd like?"

  "No, Torin, it's
fine. Come in. Laila and I were just discussing her future. I think seeing what you and I deal with here on a daily basis may teach her something."

  "Ah, yes. You Test tomorrow?"

  She nodded.

  "Well, I wish you good luck."

  "Thank you," she answered. She stood fully from her chair and moved to a small bench near the door, leaving her seat for Torin.

  Torin took the offered seat and faced Alain. Laila could see the frustration present on his face.

  "Have you heard, Alain?" he began.

  "Heard what?"

  "The man that was spotted earlier today in the city center, as well as roaming around other parts of the city?"

  "I have not," Alain answered.

  "People are saying he's a Magus."

  "A Magus? There hasn't been a Magus in the Confederacy for, I don't know, decades at least, maybe even a century."

  "And yet..."

  "Have you confirmed any of these rumors? Or seen the man yourself?"

  "No, I was only told of it in the last hour."

  "I'm assuming you see some sort of problem with this."

  "A problem? Of course there's a problem. The Magi were a cult. They tried to hold dominion over people through their strange religion. Worshiping the elements as though they were gods. It was backwards and dated. It was a good thing the Confederacy banned their practice. I want to know why there is one in our city!"

  Torin's fists were clenched as he spoke. Laila could see his knuckles whiten. Alain noticed it too.

  "Calm, Consul," he said, using Torin's title. "Have you brought this to the attention of the Consulari? He is the only one with the authority to find this so-called Magus and remove him."

  "No." Torin finally released his fists, coming back under control. Laila knew the history of the Magi. They had been part of the Confederacy for most of its existence. But, over a hundred years ago, they had tried to take power for themselves. As history told it, the people then rose up against them, casting them out for trying to undermine what the Confederacy stood for. But a Magus had not been seen in the Confederacy for all that time. Laila found the idea that one might be here now highly unlikely. As did her father, judging from the reaction on his face.