Servants and Followers (The Legends of Arria, Volume 2)

by Courtney Bowen

  “I got you, but I don’t think…” Sisila started to say.

  “Trust me, Sisila, and stay away from Iibala.” Jawen said. “Promise me that. She is only trying to use you for her own amusement. She loves inflicting pain and misery.” Jawen hissed.

  Sisila frowned and sighed. “I trust you, Jawen, but I don’t think you understand that this is different. This is…”

  “Believe me, I am only trying to look out for your own best interests.” Jawen said, rolling her eyes. Sisila was babbling, too flustered and frustrated to even understand what was going on here. Jawen saw reason, and reason told her Iibala was up to no good. “You’ve always had my best interests at heart, right?” She asked Sisila.

  “Right. I’ve helped you out before.” Sisila said, cautious.

  “Then promise me that you’ll stay from Iibala.”

  “All right, all right, I promise you that I will stay away from Iibala, and I promise you that I’ll listen to you more in the future.” Sisila said for good measure. She sounded a little grumpy, but Sisila would soon see reason again.

  “Thank you, Sisila.” Jawen smiled, letting her go. “You can stay here if you want to have some breakfast.” She said, motioning towards the interior of the restaurant.

  “It’s fine, I’m going home.” Sisila said brusquely, turning towards the door. “I have some work to do, and it’s a waste of money for me to eat here. Thank you for listening to me, Jawen.”

  “You’re welcome, Sisila,” Jawen said, the smile plastered onto her face as she was about to turn away, feeling better for having helped her friend.

  “Stay away from Hastin!” Sisila called back at her before she left.

  Jawen frowned and turned around, but Sisila was already gone, and so Jawen sighed and shook her head before she headed deeper into the restaurant, back to Hastin’s table to receive his order. She would remain strong, even without Sisila’s needless warning. After Hastin told her what he wanted for breakfast, Jawen went into the kitchen and faced Smidge. She handed over Hastin’s order without a word spoken, not wanting to get into any sort of conversation with Oaka’s disgusting uncle, and left to set up some more tables as Smidge prepared his ingredients.

  Smidge heard a knock at the back door and paused a moment, wondering if he should answer. He finally did, only to discover that it was his brother. “Go away.” Smidge said.

  “If I could only just…” Geda started to say.

  “Go away!” Smidge shouted, slamming the back door shut and locking it for good measure. Geda stood there for a moment longer and finally shook his head, leaving when he felt like there was nothing more that could be done here. Perhaps he should try again another time, when things had cooled down a bit more between them. Maybe in a year or so.

  “Goga, you have gone too far this time with your violent, unreasonable behavior,” Fobata said, pacing back and forth before his captain of the guards and Hava the scribe in the hallway just before the interrogation room. “Disturbing guests, and me most of all? Why couldn’t you have waited until morning to begin your search?” He asked.

  “Because it couldn’t have waited until morning. Malakel it, Fobata, we had to find those youths before they got away from us,” Goga said, sneering, “And the woman who helped them escape. But it’s too late now, because they are no longer here with us. They got away.” He sniffed, and hacked up some phlegm.

  Hava gasped, staring at Captain Goga. How could the captain of the guards get away with talking like this to the lord of the castle, the Duke of Coe Aela? Oh, Captain Goga would be arrested and beheaded, and Hava would face the noose!

  “So the whole search was worthless and pointless?” Fobata asked, shaking his head as he looked up at Captain Goga. “Malakel it, Goga, you are better than this. You have got to think before you act, haven’t you ever listened to me tell you this?”

  Hava gasped again. He hadn’t expected this. Lord Fobata did sound disappointed in Captain Goga, to be sure, but it didn’t sound like he would be ordering the execution of the captain of the guards or of his secretary. What was going on here?

  “I have listened to you, I have heard you speak.” Goga growled. “I had to search the grounds before I could be certain they were gone. It was the most I could do at the time as well, when my guards had to be mustered and armed. Otherwise I would have sent my guards out stumbling into the dark, unarmed and unprepared for this foray, and then we still would have lost the group. I was thinking at the time, not just blundering about.” He muttered, sniffling.

  Marlo had said that Captain Goga was no ordinary captain of the guards, and that he could get away with practically anything when Lord Fobata had to be careful in handling him, but insubordination? How could Lord Fobata stand it? What made Captain Goga so untouchable, how did he get to be like this, and what did he have against Lord Fobata? What sort of captain was he?

  “Well, it’s too late now,” Lord Fobata said, shaking his head. “ You’ve ruined my whole birthday celebration. All of my guests are bound to leave with more questions that I can’t answer, questions about why my guards woke them up in the middle of the night and tossed them out of their rooms to search through their piles of clothes and what not, because I can’t tell them that we’re just looking for a couple of youths who might be…”

  “Never mind that.” Goga said, shaking his head. “This whole thing is pointless. You should not have let them into Coe Aela in the first place. You should have left them out there for the Black Wolves to eat.” He hacked up some more phlegm.

  “I could not do that.” Lord Fobata said, staring at him. “I had to know my enemy. I had to know what we were dealing with here. Don’t tell me that you weren’t curious as well, Goga, about why we were forced to deal with these children?”

  Hava glanced at Goga, curious as well. He had seen many strange things since coming to Coe Aela, and he had been a part of these strange affairs by Goga’s side, but the strangest of all had to be this one.

  “I’ve seen these children,” Goga coughed. “And the way they act, and the Black Sword that one of them must have held…and I am telling you that these are no ordinary children.”

  “We knew that, Goga. We knew that.” Fobata said.

  “Not everybody did.” Goga smirked. “Or at least they pretended not to know.”

  Hava whistled softly. Whoever would be facing Goga’s wrath would be in trouble.

  “What is the matter with you, Goga?” Fobata asked as he and Goga turned to walk away.

  “Just a cold, it’ll go away.” Goga said, waving Fobata away as Hava followed them.

  “Are you sure you didn’t drink too much wine yesterday?” Fobata asked.

  “Maybe a little bit, but it hasn’t affected my mind yet, nor does it make me suffer with this cold.” Goga said, and then sneezed. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need anyone’s help.”

  Hava rolled his eyes, thinking that Goga had not been too proud to ask for the assistance of a scribe in keeping his records.

  “I’m just worried, that’s all, thinking about the last time you lost control of yourself and your temper.” Fobata muttered.

  “That was a mistake.” Goga said, turning to face his brother. “I can assure you, it won’t happen again. I won’t be so careless next time.”

  “Maybe. Maybe.” Fobata said, wondering what exactly did Goga mean by that.

  “Marlo, where are we going?” Janus asked as he and the steward strode through the halls of Coe Aela, even more empty than usual early in the morning.

  “To see Goga.” The steward told him. “He wishes to question us on what you saw yesterday, regarding the youths who seem to have escaped Coe Aela.”

  “Really? What happened?” Janus asked.

  “They escaped. Don’t play cloy with me, Janus,” Marlo said, turning to him. “I trusted you. I trusted you on Hava’s word alone.” He looked down. “I should have been wiser. I should not have listened to the scribe,” He said, opening the door of a plain ro
om containing nothing except an examination table, occupied by Lord Fobata, Captain Goga, and Hava the scribe, with two guards flanking them.

  “Janus, you are brought forth here to answer questions regarding the testimony you gave to Marlo yesterday afternoon,” Goga said, trying to sound as judicial as possible reading a piece of paper Hava had just given him, and with his nose slightly stuffed up. The two guards went to close the doors behind Janus and Marlo. “Testimony regarding the youths who arrived here the day before yesterday, Markee 14th,” Goga said, already bored with the proceedings. “The report you gave to Marlo stated that the youths were mostly harmless, and that there was no need for alarm, but there was a need.”

  “I saw none.” Janus said, looking up at him. “I saw these children at play.”

  “Playing? What sort of games?” Goga asked, standing up to face him. “The only game I saw was the duel I had with the boy who had dark hair, and there was no playing there. He could fight, and he had skills.” He sniffed. “What makes you think that was mostly harmless?”

  “He may be skilled at what he has learned, but can he fight in combat? Can he kill? I think not.” Janus said.

  “What do you mean by that?” Goga asked, eying Janus with cold calculation. “What makes you so sure?” Goga asked again as Hava wrote with a blind, furious passion, recording the interrogation.

  Fobata blinked, slightly startled out of his own trance by this odd turn of events. Janus was displaying more intelligence than they had presumed a servant like him would possess, arguing for why he had assumed the youths were innocent. Fobata had been gazing off into the distance at the wall, not really paying attention to these proceedings that Goga had seemed to control, having been so wound up by the youths’ escape, but now Janus was upsetting Goga tremendously, and Fobata was amused by this affair.

  “I’ve heard that, though a fighter must have skill in handling a weapon, he must also have the guts, the bravery, and the instinct to kill a man in battle. Would you say that young man who faced you could have killed you?” Janus asked.

  “Maybe not.” Captain Goga said, sitting down as Fobata smiled. “However, that does not mean the potential to kill isn’t there,” Goga continued, “If it is cultivated, if it is allowed to grow. And that young man had the potential, in him and in all of his young friends. They also had a weapon beyond compare, one that could have caused much damage in careless hands, and be even deadlier if they were capable of killing others.” Goga wiped his nose.

  “Maybe you should be glad then that they are not yet capable of killing others.” Janus said, sounding almost careless.

  “Not yet anyway,” Goga said, glaring at him.

  “Gentlemen.” Lord Fobata said, speaking up for the first time since Janus had entered the room. “Perhaps we should discuss this philosophical matter another time, much as we have enjoyed it,” Fobata said, looking around. “We must proceed with the case at hand to determine if he had anything to do with the escape of the youths, not the logistics of whether or not they were capable of wrong-doing.”

  They proceeded with Janus defending himself as he established an alibi for himself of working in the kitchen around the time the group must have escaped Coe Aela, and this was confirmed with reports from other servants who were brought forward. Janus also had to confirm that he had no contact whatsoever with the group during their stay here, and this led to a questioning of his appointment as a spy on behalf of Marlo, which led to Hava’s name being brought up as Hava had first suggested it. Goga glared at Hava, who shrunk down into his chair, and then the scribe had to be called forth as a character witness to Janus.

  Eventually Goga dismissed Janus with a cursory wave of his hand as no proof could be found of Janus having aided the youths, and no charge was filed against Janus when he had fulfilled his duties to the best of his abilities, however wrong he might have been. Janus walked out of the interrogation room, leaving Marlo.

  Marlo was also questioned briefly as to any concern he might have had for Janus performing his duties as a spy, and also if he had aided the youths somehow. But Marlo defended Janus to the best of his abilities, and everyone trusted Marlo, even Goga, so that it was not seriously believed that the steward could have had a hand in the youths’ escape. Marlo was dismissed, and walked out of the interrogation room as Goga ordered that the servant women should be fetched and questioned with a sneeze.

  Marlo walked down the hallway alone for awhile, and then stopped. “Who are you, Janus?” Marlo asked after a moment of silence.

  Janus sighed, and slipped out of his hiding place in one of alcoves. “That depends on what you mean by that.” He said, staring at Marlo. “You know that I am a servant under your command. If you suspect me of anything in the first place, it is within your power to inform your superiors.”

  “Don’t tempt me, Janus, it may be just as you deserve.” Marlo shook his head. “I did not say anything about you or what I suspected. I must be crazy.” He said. “Where are you going?”

  “The blacksmith’s shop.” Janus said.

  “I’m coming with you.” Marlo said. Janus said nothing, but allowed Marlo to walk alongside of him.

  “I am not comfortable with the state of affairs around here, Janus.” Marlo continued as they turned a corner. “It is not unusual to have unrest, but there appears to be more force behind it. For me, your very presence is an act of open rebellion.” Marlo said, turning to face Janus. “You may be clever, but you are not clever enough to pass yourself off as subordinate. Or you are losing touch with your subordinate side. You seem to treat all of this as if it were a game. There are lives at risk here. None of this can end well.” Marlo said.

  “Then why do you protect me? Why do you say nothing?” Janus asked.

  “Don’t tempt me!” Marlo snarled. “I have never been a man to condemn another for defiance. Yet I have never been an insubordinate man either. It is a paradox.” Marlo said after a moment of silence. “For most of my adult life, my foremost loyalty has laid with Coe Aela. When I was young, I first served in order to get myself promoted. Then I was obliged to uphold my loyalty to keep myself and my family safe. Now, in my old age, I work out of force of habit.”

  Marlo continued as they turned a corner again, “My own daughter despised Coe Aela and its ways. And then, when the lady of the household, Lady Niobe, died, those circumstances were abhorred by my Ravona.” He sighed. “Those were horrible, terrible, and miserable circumstances, I am not saying otherwise. At my daughter’s insistence, I cajoled His Grace to transfer her. Perhaps against his better judgment, Lord Fobata did so. She has been gone for 10 years now, a lady-in-waiting at Coe Kiki. She has barely visited me in all those years, and writes only infrequently. My last letter informed me that she was pregnant, and that was several months ago, probably a year. She would have had the baby by now, my only grandchild, and I do not even know if it is a boy or girl.” Marlo sighed as they reached the main doors of Coe Aela. “I don’t blame her.” He said as they went out into the front bailey, “Yet I have little doubt as to her activities in Coe Kiki,” Marlo said at last.

  Janus stopped and waited. He had walked slowly alongside the old man all of this way, careful not to get too far ahead or to let the old man go faster than was necessary.

  “But, since her own reasons are righteous, and she is of my blood, I will give you a chance.” Marlo said, turning to Janus. “I will keep my eye on you. You must try to be more careful and not careless of your actions. Don’t leave any proof behind. You could be indicted for inciting rebellion if you are caught, and that could be the least of your charges. I will try not to catch you, but I cannot say the same of others.” They stopped near the blacksmith shop.

  “Such advice from you, a man of principle, shall be highly regarded.” Janus said coolly, almost sarcastically, but Marlo did not flinch. “As for your troubles, with your daughter, I believe that they could be resolved, if given the chance.” Janus said, softer. “Both you and your daughter are only do
ing what you think is right.”

  “I thank you for your kind words, whoever you are.” Marlo grimaced. “I know that I am not always doing the right thing. You know, I almost recognize you, or you seem familiar to me.” He frowned. “Who are you? When did I see you last?” He asked.

  Janus paused, staring at Marlo. “What do you mean? We met just the other night. My name is Janus.” He said softly.

  “No, before that, in your other life.” Marlo insisted.

  “A long time ago. That was a very long time ago,” Janus growled, leaning close so that Marlo could see the frozen face caught between youth and old age, the frozen face the steward could just barely recognize as it had left such an indelible mark upon him so long ago. “You recognize me now?” Janus asked. “I first met you when you were a young man, Marlo, and I was just the same as I am now.” Janus said. “The name I had then was Cannon. No longer.”

  “‘The mark of Doomba is upon Cannon’.” Marlo whispered. “That is what we used to say about you. It was a sign of respect.” He said, lowering his head.

  “Respect? Doomba did not respect me then.” Janus said, recoiling. “To him, I was just another source of power, a cog in his machinery.” He scoffed. “In another lifetime, I did not always do the right thing either, but now I am learning to do some good, and serve my king.” Janus said, moving away from Marlo. “You will see me again.” The man formerly known as Cannon warned.

  Janus sat upon a barrel in front of the blacksmith shop, the smithy, apparently waiting for someone or something to come out of Coe Aela, and did not look at the steward again. Marlo shuddered to himself, and moved away from the blacksmith shop, too frightened to ask any more questions of Cannon. He might believe what this fellow had to say. He returned to the castle.

  Chapter 13: Revelations

  Secrets are everywhere if you know where to look,

  Secrets hide inside books, hearts, minds and more,

  When secrets are a part of who we are and sustain us as