by Kelly Napoli
***
Kiethara pulled herself to her feet as soon as the first rays touched the horizon. She had a vague idea where Nikkoi lay, so she set of in that direction.
It wasn’t long before her assumptions were proved correct. There, at the base of the hill, was the considerable kingdom. In her opinion, the stone walls she had once marveled now seemed a bit flimsy, compared to what they were trying to protect.
She plopped herself down on top of the knoll, absentmindedly picking at a blade of grass while her surroundings grew lighter and lighter. Finally, the gates opened up and a few people strolled out.
She slinked down the hill slowly. She needed to look innocent, haggard, and needy. The last two were easy. She also needed to make it clear that all she needed were directions: not payment and not food.
She directed her course towards one person in particular; a lady. She looked to be middle aged and adorned a mindless expression as she led her mule by a rope. There was nothing sinister about her and, as the rest of the people out were men, the lady was her best chance at getting what she needed.
“Excuse me, ma’am!” Kiethara called out as she approached her. The woman looked up, and then her eyes narrowed.
“What do ye want?” she asked.
“Nothing but directions,” Kiethara explained readily. She bowed her head in respect.
“Likely story! To where?”
“The legendary forest, in the center of the world,” she answered. The woman’s expression became extremely surprised, but then she composed her features, chewing on her lip.
“Where are ye parents?” the woman asked.
“Dead,” she lied.
The woman exhaled sharply, and then suddenly grabbed a fistful of Kiethara’s hair. She started dragging her and the mule towards the gate of Nikkoi, making disgruntled sounds all the way.
“Lady! What are you doing? Stop!” Kiethara cried, trying to pull herself free. The lady would have none of that; instead, she took the long rope that was tied to the mule and wrapped it around Kiethara, holding her tight, a hand still in her hair. The mule nickered dully.
“You’re a bloody orphan! A damned runaway! No wonder ye look like that! To the trade with ye, missy, I’ll make sure of it. I might even get paid for it!”
The lady’s strength was surprisingly fierce and, tangled as she was, Kiethara could not get herself free. It was a long and embarrassing walk; the lady seemed to drag her through the most crowded streets of Nikkoi. People stared as they marched by and, when they recovered, their laughter could be heard even after they turned a corner. Nobody seemed to want to help her. It was more of a show to them, a cruel idea of entertainment. One vender even threw a tomato at her, where it smacked her squarely in the cheek before splattering at her feet.
They finally reached what seemed to be a small square, filled with carts, carriages, and wagons. Shouts rang out, chains jingled, and horses snorted.
She was dragged to a wooden table placed in the center of the commotion, where a cruel looking man and a tiny, frail looking man both sat. The smaller, thin man had a piece of parchment positioned in front of him and a quill in hand. The lady released her hold on her, pulling her animal away from Kiethara as though afraid she was diseased, and then pushed her forward into the table.
“I here found this orphan ‘bout ready to run. I thought ye might want her.”
The tiny man nodded and began scribbling things down with his quill. He looked up at her. “Name?”
Kiethara glared at the man and then turned to leave, but the woman’s hands were waiting for her. The larger, brutal looking man stood up and moved forward with a grin. He reached down and unhitched a leather whip from his belt. She eyed the whip warily before turning back to the other man. What in the world could she do to get out this? Play along?
“Kiethara.”
“Well, Kiethara, welcome to your new life of slavery,” the man informed her.
Yes, her luck certainly had run out.
