“I now need your release of this family, as if you were giving them to me as possessions. Give this to me in ink in case there is ever any question from… potential dissenters.”
“Uh, I cannot write,” Rashnir said sheepishly, “I can only read a few words and write my name.”
“Well, that is something that will need to be remedied.” Rogis replied as he scribbled up a document for him. He turned over the contract to his new second in command and beckoned for his mark.
“I will teach him.” Kelsa startled them from the doorway where she’d obviously been eavesdropping.
Rogis slowly nodded at her request. The body language between them communicated a silent agreement. In an instant, Rashnir caught the two sets of eyes and he immediately knew that Kelsa was Rogis’ daughter. He could tell that both parties knew it. Then, Kelsa turned and abruptly left, just as she’d seemed to come.
“You will keep the property and the staff, and I will take the family home with me tonight.”
“Staff?”
“Yes. Dane, as well as a handful of others. They are all indentured to the estate for owing debts to Mind, all except for Dane. Dane’s family has been the head of the servants to this estate since long before my time; it would be an insult to make him leave, I’d advise against it. There is a deep and rich history surrounding this building.” Rogis pointed out the window to a half buried blockhouse. “That is their barracks. They all sleep there, save Dane who has his own private room in the servants’ block near the cellar.”
Rashnir nodded and drew his name on the paper that Rogis drew up. He couldn’t read it, but the old Ranger had been so transparent with him that he trusted the man.
Rogis led Rashnir back down to the crowd that had once been Mind’s family. “Are we ready to move?” he asked. “The wagons are ready, right Dane?”
“They are prepared, sir. You may send someone to collect them in the morning.” Dane motioned to the servants in the back of the room. “They will begin loading your things after you leave.”
Kelsa quickly stepped forward. “Do not load my things,” she interjected.
Rogis looked down his nose at her, surprised, but not entirely so. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Absolutely.” Kelsa’s face glowed as she glanced at Rashnir. “We will have a great deal of studying to do—constantly, to bring him up to speed. He will have to be well-educated for the position he is assuming,” she placated Rogis with a plausible line of logic.
Rogis’ face softened as he looked at Kelsa and then at Rashnir. He nodded resignedly. “Very well then. It is your choice to make.” He softly put his hand on Kelsa’s shoulder. “Well then, we are off. Rashnir, see to it that you take utmost care of Kelsa.” His voice carried a hint of fatherly warning. He turned to look at only her. “Your mother and I will return tomorrow sometime and collect any of your family’s belongings that the servants might have missed.”
The group left through the main door; Rogis took Dane aside, probably to tell him to keep an eye on Kelsa. Missa came back and embraced her daughter. Her unspoken words communicated a release of the mother’s authority over her daughter. “Be good,” her mother whispered, squeezed tightly, then released and departed.
Not oblivious to the special moment that unfolded nearby, Rashnir slipped away, going to the largest, most comfortable room on the first floor. He thought it best to give them some privacy if this was a goodbye.
Pillows lay scattered around the floor nearest the masoned fireplace. Large, fur-covered couches formed a half-ring facing the hearth. A huge, white bearskin rug stretched across the marble floor within the semicircle.
Rashnir surveyed the room, then went to the middlemost couch and sat. He sank into the cushioning and adjusted his position accordingly so he could gaze at the fire as it leapt to and danced in the fireplace.
Dane came in with a few dry logs and stoked the fire with a poker. He put the lumber on and scuttled out quickly, almost moving too fast for a man of his advanced age.
Rashnir looked over his shoulder when he heard the soft padding of approaching footsteps. Kelsa slowly walked in, flanked by Dane; the old servant carried an elegant silver tray.
Kelsa swung her slight frame around the end of the couch and sank into its stuffing, seating herself only inches away from Rashnir. Dane leaned over the backrest and presented the tray to them. Kelsa took two tall cups and offered one to Rashnir. Dane smiled and departed with a twinkle in his eye.
“So, Kelsa,” Rashnir said uncomfortably, “you can to teach me to read?”
“I will teach you anything that you desire to know.” She crept a little closer.
“Really? Tell me about this place then, this house. I’ve never been inside a structure so grand.”
“Very well,” she began with a hint of playfulness in her voice. “The original structure was an old royal outpost that had been overthrown by marauders many generations ago, during the Jand-Ninda schism. The royal family of Jand allowed persons of favor to reside here after they reclaimed it by force; this was shortly after they set up their new keep in Capital City—it’s the main reason why the capital is so close to Grinden and the Nindan border. That was about the time Dane’s family began maintaining it. Despite that, the place fell into disrepair. Somehow Mind found favor with the royalty. He never said how, but the estate was given over to him. He demolished much of it and then had it restored. The estate was rebuilt upon the backs of slaves and laborers who owed my ‘father’ favors, or just feared his wrath. Intimidation can be a powerful motivator. Several of the craftsmen performed a better job here than they would have on even their own homes.
“I remember when the work was done. I was still young, but I remember that day. Despite all of the labor, it was a wonderful day.”
“Your ‘father’ was pleased?”
“Not so much, he could always find a reason to complain. It was the expression on Dane’s face that made it grand. He’s been here ever since he was a baby, and to see the look on his face when the remodeling was completed was worth the toil of so many men.”
Kelsa settled back into the cushion behind her. Her skin just barely touched Rashnir’s. “There are many unique and interesting things about this building; not only is the cellar dug out, but it is also walled and floored. It is a part of the original foundation. I hear that it is uncommon to fully finish a basement because it can be so expensive. For my part, I’ve never seen one that is not. Then again, I do not enter many cellars. I’ve not had many opportunities to leave the estate.”
Rashnir stood and stretched, stepping away from the skin on skin contact. It was mostly an excuse to shy back from Kelsa’s touch. The mental picture of an angry Rogis remained in his mind. He had never been touched like that by any female, and he’d rarely seen any attractive ones. On Mallow’s farm, Mallow kept the pretty ones as personal servants and locked them away inside of his house. Rashnir, of course, could not remember his own mother and he’d always been so busy working that he hadn’t interacted with many women.
He teased her a little. “Funny then that you’ve elected to stay here given the chance to leave.” Rashnir turned to face Kelsa. Silently, she had stood up, too. She was so close that she startled him.
A little surprised by her proximity, he quickly sat down to quench his sudden excitement and swimming mind. She sat again, right next to him; her thigh touched his. He could feel body heat radiating from her; it did not help calm down the sudden rush of hormones that surged through his body.
“My own life story has been so boring,” she pouted. “It is the diary of a prisoner,” she went on melodramatically. “Tell me about you. You must have an exciting past, full of adventure, to be skilled enough to get the better of Mind in combat and take his place in Rogis’ Rangers.”
“Oh, you’re in for a surprise,” he said, almost laughing.
Rashnir related every detail of his former life as a slave. Kelsa hung on every word as
he told her every significant event, each of which seemed insignificant to Rashnir’s ears. The story led right up to his arrival at the doors of the house earlier this evening.
He’d never before thought that his life might seem interesting but the way she listened to him was different than the way others ever had. She was not preoccupied with other thoughts; she actually cared about what he had to say. She wanted to know him more—deeper. He thought it entirely possible that he’d never had anybody’s full attention until right now.
A few hours later, after Rashnir finished his tale, Kelsa rose to her feet. “It is long past midnight and Dane retired hours ago. But I am so wide awake.” She took him by the hand and tugged him forward. “Here, follow me; I will give you a little tour of your new house.”
Rashnir stood and followed behind her as she led him through the main doorway of the main room with the fireplace. That door led to an entry room which acted as a hub for the rest of the house.
She led him through the entryway and the dining hall, through the kitchen and back around to the room with the fireplace. They peered into a hallway that led to several other rooms.
Odd paintings and potted plants adorned the walls. Rashnir raised an eyebrow as he came to the first potted shrub.
“Why in the lands would anybody put trees inside?”
Kelsa motioned to the shrubbery. “It is an ornamental practice that Mind picked up in his travels. He found that they do this over in Jeena. Because of the mountains on one side, the wasteland on the other, and the rest of its borders sealed off by the seas, trees can be quite uncommon. Because water is scarcer the closer that you come to the wasteland, trees are only ornamental. Wealthy Jeenans invest their precious water in potted shrubs as a way of gloating to others; gardening is vanity for them—a status symbol.”
“I thought that you did not travel much.”
“I don’t, but I read books from all over.”
Rashnir nodded his head, taking in the information. “Well, the shrubs are certainly more pleasant to look at than these horrible paintings…er…are these Jed and Brandyn’s?” he blushed, hoping that he hadn’t just insulted her two younger brothers.
She put her hand against her mouth to stifle a laugh. “Those wretched things,” she laughed, “were a gift to my father from the Prince of Jand, Harmarty. The prince hoped to please seek my hand.” Her tone conveyed distaste.
“Your hand? What do…oh, marriage,” the flustered Rashnir spat out. “Well, I will see to it that he does not have it, unless, um, you want it?”
Kelsa smiled, pleased that Rashnir had picked up on her subtle hints. “No. I have no desire for that arrogant, pompous thing.” She led him to the room at the end of the hall.
The room was elegant and had a plush tapestry on the floor. Kelsa informed him that the floor weaving came from far away. A large bed was centered on the farthest wall and an arrangement of foot drawers, bureaus, and chests encircled around the room in an effort to maximize floor space and make the room appear even larger.
“This,” she flatly said, “is the guest bedroom,” she turned and walked back into the hallway. Rashnir followed.
She motioned to the other three rooms and walked into the doorway of the closest one. It had been stripped of personal effects and appeared to be a bedroom. All three rooms were basically the same: the bedrooms of those family members now under Rogis’ care. They each shared the same basic design and had been mostly cleared out.
She led him by the hand, taking him away from the hall and up the main staircase. At the top of the stairs was another large room with another staircase leading to a third floor where there were only bedrooms and the rooftop access.
Rashnir recognized one of the doors. It led to the study where Rogis had taken him earlier. Kelsa led him further into the house.
“Come in here, Rashnir,” Kelsa cooed, “You’ll visit this room often.” She let a seeming silence pass then explained as they entered the room. “It is the library,” she explained.
A large room sprawled before them; bookshelves and scroll cases lined all sides of the room. Plush chairs had been placed in convenient locations, next to small, circular tables. Each table had a tall candle and several votives placed at the center. Small, rectangular windows spread across the wall above the top of the bookcases. Their size barely allowed ample light into the chamber during the day.
Rashnir raised an eyebrow, noting the room and its contents. Kelsa noticed his quizzical face and explained, “My mother had it built. Mind was never much on reading. It took him a great deal of concentration to manage it, so he only read for business reasons, contracts and such. At first he refused to build it, back when I was still young, but my mother told him that having something healthy to occupy her time might make her less inclined to be…um…disloyal?” She blushed slightly.
Rashnir gave her a knowing smirk, “And Rogis?”
“He loves to read.” She smiled and led him through another doorway.
The door opened into a room filled with taxidermy, carvings, and plaques of all sorts. “This is the arrogant, old man’s trophy room. I assume that you will want to clear it out and find a more personal use for it, unless you want to be surrounded by the triumphant monuments that each attest to Mind’s glory.”
They went into another room, obviously the armory. Weapon racks lined the walls and training dummies displayed sets of fine armor.
The main floor of the arsenal remained cleared for practice space. Marks on the floor indicated starting positions for sparring practice. A various array of gleaming instruments, swords, daggers, halberds, maces, flails, axes, bows, and weapons that Rashnir had never even heard of before hung on racks and mounts.
Rashnir reached out and took the hilt of a particularly elegant sword. He moved it through a few simple motions to test its weight and balance. The young Ranger gleamed with joy, as if he had just discovered what he truly loved in life: a sword would let him carve his own destiny. He noticed Kelsa watching him intently out of the corner of his eye.
He paused and set down the blade. Rashnir walked slowly and purposefully over to Kelsa and embraced her. Looking into her eyes, he smiled, “I do believe that this has been the best day of my life; I am glad to share it with you.”
Leaving the room behind, they walked to the front door of the house and sat on the lawn with their backs propped against a tree. They pointed out the stars that they knew and watched the sky until they fell asleep in the warm night air, leaning against each other.
Over the next few weeks, Rashnir settled into his new environment and became acquainted with his staff and contacts. Rogis stopped by once every day to train Rashnir. The young man excelled at combat arts and was so committed to his training that he quickly gained the skills to be worthy of his given rank. Within a matter of weeks he learned more advanced and complicated techniques. After that point, Rogis began bringing other advanced students from the guild to spar against Rashnir and further his techniques.
One of those was another young warrior named Jaker whose family lived nearby. Jaker, a particularly skilled scout and tracker was already a close personal friend of many of Rogis’ children, especially Kelsa. While Jaker was not one of Rogis personal students, Rogis tried to include him enough so he could glean insight or skills from him whenever possible.
Rashnir easily proved himself as the best that there was with the sword. He soon moved into other weapons techniques as he threw himself into the two things that he enjoyed most: combat training and spending time with Kelsa. She showed a genuine affection for her student, who’d become a skilled reader under her teaching.
***
Sentimentality and grief drove down upon Rashnir like a mallet. He drew near the ruined outskirts of his old mentor. The scarred wasteland represented a vacant section of his life.
Collapsing rubble crumbled in heaps nearby. Green creeping vines reclaimed what used to be a retaining wall. Now, everything was d
estroyed, still blackened by old fires. The memory of its destruction hung in Rashnir’s mind like a fog. How much death and destruction had been wrought as the result of focused intention and ambitious love? No, it was not love that had caused this, jealousy had done it.
Rashnir turned the horse, but paused for a moment. This was the closest he’d been to the old estate in years. Familiar scents and sounds called back to him, beckoned to him longingly. He remembered so much, and for just a second, he let the memories wash across his mind, sending him back to a better time.
***
Rashnir rode ahead of the battlegroup to meet up with Rogis. His mentor rode at the head of the line of warriors as they traveled. As usual, he was dressed in his favorite battle gear, mostly composed of hardened leather armor with a fine chain shirt. Rashnir discovered that he too preferred the greater maneuverability and flexibility of lighter armor over the cumbersome protection afforded by other sets like plate mail or splint mail. Part of this choice grew out of his personal training; closely learning Rogis’ fighting styles led to many other similarities. The Ranger’s fighting style required greater mobility. However, Rogis did need a little more protection now, since he had slowed with age; he typically wore a customized set with light plates covering his vital organs. Rashnir urged Nikko forward and galloped ahead to maneuver alongside his superior.
Their private army had been hired to protect a convoy bearing trade goods from several manufacturers enroute to the distant lands. What might have been a simple protection gig fell to Rogis’ Rangers instead of a lesser group because they fully expected this convoy to be attacked. The mercenaries had set up a sting against the marauders.
They’d heard rumors of an orc gang organizing in the densely wooded area that they would travel through shortly. This gang had recently been linked with sales and trafficking in goods like what they carried. The manufacturers could only assume that they were orcs; no survivors had ever been found. High enough financial rewards had finally been offered to make this a worthwhile undertaking for Rogis’ Rangers; on top of their commissions was the plunder from the gang’s hideout which they would probably find in some cave or hovel built in the woods.
The Kakos Realm Collection Page 5
