Broken Mirrors

by A. F. Dery

  Kesara felt the heat rushing into her cheeks and she looked away, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, my lord. I’m honestly not trying to offend you.”

  “And you’re not,” Lord Eladria said lightly. “If this disturbs you over much, you can wait for me outside, but it will be a while. I thought it might be better to settle things sooner rather than later.”

  “No, I’ll be fine, my lord,” she said, frowning. “What ‘things’ might you be referring to, if I may ask? I thought you wanted my help?” She felt an inexplicable sense of hurt at the thought that he might not. It was wholly irrational and she tried to shove it away.

  “I do,” he said quietly. “But if you are agreeing to continue to help me, of your own volition, then I think we ought to find something else for you to do when I don’t need you.

  “Look, Kes, I know we Eladrians aren’t the friendliest or more forthcoming bunch when it comes to outsiders, and it can take a lot to become anything other than an outsider if you weren’t born here. If there is already a certain...ah....coolness towards you, it will only get worse now that you will be working with me so closely. My people are very protective of me, as I am of them.

  “So I think it best that we head off that difficulty. Besides which, there is the matter of your compensation. You are in-arguably of greater use to me as a Mirror than as a kitchen worker, and it would be unjust to keep you living on those wages.”

  “My lord, I honestly do not expect any greater wage, or any additional benefits. I do appreciate having my own room, but I would help you even without it. I don’t mind staying in the kitchen. As I said, they can learn to live with it or not. I care not.” She hoped she sounded as indifferent as she wanted him to think she was, because inside burned a traitorous hope that she could get away from the staring eyes, the cold words, and the unwarranted slaps.

  “Be that as it may, I will not see you treated unjustly, even if you are a foreigner,” Lord Eladria said. He paused and said, “You can look again, if you want. The mouse is quite gone, although unfortunately,” and here he sighed, “this particular experiment was not the success I had hoped it would be. Still, it was a good first step.”

  Kesara looked at the worktable before him. The beaker with purple fluid remained, but all else had been put away, the mouse and the soil-filled dish nowhere to be seen. She wanted to ask him what the point had been, burning up the little mouse’s body, but she remembered his previous reticence about the High Lord’s demands and stayed silent.

  “What would you think of being one of the servants who keeps up with my quarters here?” Lord Eladria suggested, eyeing the beaker. “I know it is not the most dignified position. Certainly, you would have had better where you came from, but to be perfectly frank, I’m not sure what else it is you can do, and I don’t really think I need anything else. It would be much more convenient when I need you, and there would be no eyebrows raised if I summoned you. Though I suppose it is only fair to warn you there may be rumors about your continued proximity to me.” He gave her a woeful look that looked both bizarre and endearing on his disfigured face. “My people are clamoring for me to give them an heir.”

  She tried to keep her face a blank, thinking hard for a moment. What should she say to that? Should she, in fact, say anything? Then again, he had brought it up, so she settled on, “Well, it is a reasonable expectation, my lord.”

  “That depends on how one looks at it, Kes. It is reasonable to expect an heir from one’s ruling lord, not so reasonable to expect one from me.”

  She looked at him curiously. Did the women of his country truly find him that repulsive that the only ones who would have a man of his power and position were so undesirable to him? She knew it was none of her business but she thought it was absurd. She tried to force her mind back to the matter at hand. “It doesn’t concern me what they say, my lord. I would be pleased to work here for you in whatever position you can find me.”

  “Very well. Then there is the matter of your wages,” Lord Eladria said. He held up a hand as if to ward her off. “I know what you keep saying, it makes no difference to me. I do not know what is fair and reasonable for one of your...talents.”

  “But I won’t be exercising my ‘talents’ the whole time,” Kesara pointed out.

  “True, but nevertheless, it must be taken into account. Will you offer me no guidance?” he tried.

  Kesara looked at him wide-eyed. “I’m hardly the right person to consult, my lord.”

  “Well, would you have received any payment in Ytar?”

  “Room, board, clothing. Usually there would be some sort of stipend,” Kesara said reluctantly. “It is really an individual thing. I know of a Mirror who left the school while I was still very young, and she lives a life of luxury. A friend of mine who was bonded shortly before I left lives a less comfortable life than the kitchen workers here could on their wages. It all depends, on who the refrere- the one bonded with- is, what their means are, though these are usually good if they can afford one of us in the first place, and the level of ability the Mirror has. Usually the more talented the Mirror, the better we live, because only the very wealthy can afford us.”

  “So you are all priced according to your talents, eh?” Lord Eladria looked grim as she nodded. He hesitated, then said, “What sort of life would you have expected, if you’d stayed?”

  Kesara pondered that a moment. She knew he was trying to skirt around asking her directly about how much she would have been worth in the eyes of Ytarens who knew about these things. She was learning that while Lord Eladria was a very intelligent man, he was not what could be termed ‘subtle’ by any stretch.

  She decided against bothering with it herself, taking the chance that he would value directness over this delicate step-around that he was not terribly good at. “I would have been worth a hell of a lot, my lord,” she said flatly. “I do not know who would have won the bidding for me, but the high bidder at the time I left would have made my life...difficult. Truly, I do not need any raise in my wages here to be happy. I appreciate this chance to live.”

  Lord Eladria gave a slow nod of his head. She could see something like approval in his eyes and knew that she’d guessed correctly about him. “I will arrange something with the steward then,” he said.

  He said no more about it that day, or any other day. He called for someone to show Kesara to the head of the servants who kept his rooms. They did not report directly to Cook, though all the staff deferred to her when it came down to it. The steward himself was the one they reported to for their assignments each day unless Lord Eladria gave instructions directly, which was not as rare as Kesara would have expected from a noble.

  The steward was a surprisingly youthful man, large to Kesara’s eyes as all the Eladrians were, with wavy flaxen hair clipped short so it stuck out like the ruffled feathers of a baby bird in a yellow halo about his head. He had a pleasant, soothing voice, and she thought that in any other country, the man would have been a minstrel or bard. She had never heard of such a thing coming out of Eladria, though she supposed anything was possible. She hardly knew everything about the place, even after living there for months.

  “My name is Darius, and I have to tell you, I’m relieved that His Lordship has finally added another body to his staff,” the young man said as soon as the guard who had escorted Kesara to him had spoken to him and left. “There are very few that our Lord entrusts the keeping of his personal rooms to, and his tower is a lot larger than you might think. He is also very particular about how he wants things done, and it tends to take more time than whatever you might be used to from the kitchens.”

  Kesara’s eyebrows shot up. “You know I’m from the kitchens?”

  Darius laughed. “Of course, miss. There’s only one Ytaren in the employ of the Keep. I’d heard of you long before you came to me today.”

  She wasn’t sure what to think of that, or what expression must have been on her face, for he continued, “Don’t worry about it, miss. If the Dr
ead Lord accepts you into a position such as this, then your fellows and I here accept you as well. His word is all that is necessary, and he has given it. You will be given the same chance to prove yourself as any of the other servants who work in the tower. I would not have it any other way, and neither would His Lordship.”

  Pretty words to go with the pretty face, Kesara thought, but she would believe it when she saw it. She forced herself to smile.

  “That is good of you, sir. I will do my best to justify your good faith,” Kesara said humbly.

  Darius grinned, showing brilliant white teeth that were startling in their perfection. “I trust you will, miss, and please, do just call me Darius.”

  The smile froze on her face. “Is that your policy with all the tower’s servants?” she asked, trying to keep her voice light.

  “Does it matter, miss? I should think you’d had enough uptight Eladrian formality from Cook in the kitchens,” Darius said smoothly.

  “I would not want any preferential treatment...” she let her voice trail off.

  “Don’t be foolish,” he said. “You need friends here. It is no secret you have none, and that is a real pity.”

  There was no mistaking the appreciative look in his Eladrian brown eyes in that moment as he regarded her. For the second time that day, Kesara wondered what the hell had happened to the world she lived in. The very idea of an Eladrian male showing anything akin to “appreciation” of her as a woman was beyond laughable. They spent all their time steeped in paranoia and suspicion where she was concerned, and she knew all too well from the jibes of those few men who worked in some proximity to the kitchen that she looked like a child in their eyes.

  She suddenly felt more than a little sick as she realized what that meant in relation to Darius. If she looked like a child to him, and he found this appealing...She pressed a hand to her mouth and tried to take slow, deep breaths.

  Be rational, Kesara, she told herself sternly. Does the Dread Lord of Eladria, who seems so horrified of slavery, really seem the sort to tolerate perverts in his employ?

  But what if he doesn’t know? He is a man, after all. He might just assume this fellow is normal and have no idea about him...

  “Are you all right, miss?”

  Kesara jumped- she couldn’t help it. In her mind-whirling moment of anxiety, he had suddenly appeared at her side, his perfect golden brows furrowed with concern. “You look very pale, of a sudden. Truly, you have nothing to fear here.” His voice was so warm and sincere. Did it lure in those poor little girls?

  Oh just listen to yourself! You don’t even know that this is true of him, and already you manufacture his victims in your imagination, she berated herself. She forced herself to meet his eyes, tilting her head back to do so at this close proximity.

  “I’m fine, sir, I’m sorry. It’s just...a little overwhelming. I’ve, uh, not seen this...attitude...from an Eladrian before, and I have lived and worked here these past months since the ague passed through.”

  “I understand that,” Darius said. “It’s all right. I can brief you on your duties later, if you need some time?”

  Kesara thought about that a moment, sorely tempted, but decided against taking advantage of his...well, whatever it was.

  “No, sir, it’s all right. I would like to get started as soon as possible,” she murmured.

  “Well, if you’re sure,” Darius eyed her doubtfully, but moved to the desk behind him.

  The room they were in looked for all the world like someone’s study. It was relatively small, but still within the tower, back through twisting corridors she would not have been able to remember if threatened with penalty of death and well away from Lord Eladria’s laboratory. It was elegantly appointed with a pair of comfortable looking chairs clustered before a heavy wooden desk, with a lovely tapestry of what appeared to be birds in flight on the wall to her right and a large, rounded window to her left that gave a fine view of the front courtyard, teeming with people.

  She frowned a little. She did not realize so many people were about the Keep’s exterior at this time of day, and wondered if it meant something. She voiced the question tentatively to Darius as she seated herself in one of the chairs in front of the desk and he sat down behind.

  “It is judgment day,” he said. “The first of the season. It is a practice put on hold during the winter months, due to the difficulty of getting to and from the Keep.”

  “Judgment day?” Well, that certainly sounds ominous, Kesara thought.

  “I’m sure you know we have a legal system like every other country,” Darius said dryly. “Well, sometimes the involved parties do not agree with the verdict they receive from their local justices. So they appeal directly to the Dread Lord, and he hears those cases one day a month. Occasionally- especially at the start of the season, like today- this will take place over multiple days. Whatever he decides for them, there is no appeal, and his interpretation of the law tends to be...strict. Folks are usually very sure of themselves if they bring a case before him. Sometimes the justices themselves bring cases precisely because they aren’t sure and wish to defer to his judgment. And of course, there are also crimes that a person can only be convicted of by the reigning lord, crimes that are more national in scope, like treason. But such crimes are exceedingly rare here.”

  “I imagine so,” Kesara murmured. She’d yet to meet an Eladrian who wasn’t an impassioned patriot, when all was said and done.

  “If you are a quick learner, you might be able to sit in on one of the hearings before it’s over this time. His Lordship won’t actually begin hearing the cases until tomorrow- they are just submitting their cases to the magistrate who oversees the proceedings today. Keeps things moving along when they can introduce some order into things.”

  “I would like that,” she said, and a little to her amazement, she meant it. She was curious about what kind of justice Lord Eladria meted out. She suspected the death penalty was pretty high on his list of favorites, given his particular honorific and his warlord reputation, but she supposed she’d have to see.

  Darius beamed at her, obviously well pleased with her interest in his country’s legal system. “I would be happy to accompany you and explain to you how everything works.”

  Kesara thought frantically for a way out of that, but he continued smoothly before she could think of a plausible excuse, “In any event, we’d best get to work acquainting you with your new duties. The keeping of Lord Eladria’s tower is designated only to certain members of his staff, as you know. He likes things done a certain way and he does not tolerate imperfection in carrying out his orders in this regard. Any such after the initial grace period for training is grounds for immediate dismissal from service in the Keep. The rest of the Keep is run according to Cook’s instructions or my own, and he gives us a free hand in that area, but the tower is his personal sanctuary and we strive to treat it as such. The duties and responsibilities of a ruling Lord are great indeed, and it is our honor to serve ours in this capacity.”

  It was starting to have all the flavor of one of her old teachers’ lectures on Honor and Duty. She reminded herself to blink to keep her eyes from glazing over, but already he was moving on, “All workers newly assigned to the Tower start in the library. Once you have shown mastery of those tasks, you may be moved to a different area and trained for it.”

  “There’s a library up here?” she asked, her eyes widening.

  Darius nodded. “Oh yes. There are many rooms in His Lordship’s tower. It is the largest of those in the Keep, though originally it was not intended for habitation, but storage. As such, some of the rooms have no means of being heated and are kept closed off in the winter months. You will see some of those once you have finished your training in the library. It takes quite a bit of work to get them opened up again and presentable to His Lordship’s standards, so we will need every pair of hands we have.”

  “How many of us are there?” Kesara asked.

  “A half-dozen on
ly, including yourself- not very many for a tower of this size, especially when it is usually only those who work in here who attend directly to His Lordship.” For the first time since she’d met him, Darius’ eyes turned critical as he regarded her. “It will be some time before you would be considered for such an honor, of course, unless His Lordship himself requests otherwise sooner. You must prove yourself here in other ways first.”

  “I can understand designating certain servants for certain functions, but how does someone usually get selected to work in the tower? Does Lord Eladria choose them all himself?”

  “Yes,” Darius said. “Cook and I will make recommendations, but His Lordship always makes the final selection, and he will not choose many. I have been asking for more help for some time, but if he thinks we are carrying on competently with the number we have, he prefers not to allow anyone else entrance.”

  Kesara couldn’t help but notice the thinly veiled exasperation in those words. “That must get frustrating,” she said.

  Darius smiled ruefully. “Oh, believe me, it does. You will be worked harder up here than you ever were in the kitchens, miss. Early mornings and late nights are a way of life, and even though I have many other duties as steward, I am often forced to pitch in just to see things done. One those occasions when His Lordship has a guest, it is worse still.”

  “Does he have guests often?” Kesara asked, immediately suspecting what sorts of ‘guests’ Darius might be referring to.

  “No, not very often.”

  Darius seemed unwilling to continue yet unwilling to put her in her place, so she tried a different tactic. “Well, how do you handle it? Does he allow servants from other parts of the Keep for these occasions?”

  “No, his orders never change,” Darius gave the great sigh of the put-upon. “One can’t expect him to understand all the complications this can present. His own work is far different from what you or I do. I would be lost on a battlefield, and our Lord would be just as lost trying to keep these domestic affairs in order single-handed.”