Shenili: Chains of Fear, Book 1

by Jacey Jenson

  "This costume was imported from your home world. You will wear it to the entertainment games tomorrow night in the arena."

  Gary bowed his head briefly. "Yes, my lady Keeper."

  Delai gestured toward the apprentice warder. "This is Warder Leanan. She is assigned warder to your kennel. She will accompany you to the kennel to check the fit of the garment. You may leave."

  Gary carried the box into the sunlit courtyard, before remembering Denny Joe. Since few of the warders ever entered the kennels, the chain wouldn't be expecting a warder to come inside. Fear for the baby's safety knotted his stomach. He thought for a moment that he was going to be violently ill. He peeked at Warder Leanan, wondered what her response would be, if he suddenly claimed illness, or simply refused to return to the kennel. Shakily, he spoke to her, asked permission to speak.

  Warder Leanan lightly tapped him with the quirt she carried and ordered him to be silent. Surprised only that the blow he received left no mark on his arm, Gary prayed someone would see them coming, and make sure Denny Joe was behind the blanket curtain.

  On reaching the kennel, Warder Leanan didn't wait for Gary to set aside his load to open the door for her as he expected her to. She opened it herself, preceding him into the kennel. Gary inhaled sharply. No Thali had entered the kennel for well over a year. He hurried inside. The little ones were gone, still attending classes. Those few present, not long returned from duty detail, or the arena, didn't look up. At Gary's side, Leanan stood silent, watching the slaves, one thin eyebrow arched. Gary glanced around the room, his gaze stopping on Sara as she jumped to her feet. The scene before him burned indelibly into his mind.

  "Chain you, Dennis! Look what you've done!" Sara shouted. Her accusing finger pointed toward the thin slave gruel splattered on the floor. "Well, go get a rag or something. Clean that up!"

  Sticky porridge all over his pants, Dennis flashed her a resentful look. "You get a rag! If you don't like the way I do things, do them yourself!"

  Sputtering in her rage, Sara leaned down and slapped Dennis. "Don't you yell at me!"

  Dennis slid Denny Joe from his lap to the floor. He caught both Sara's wrists in his hands, surged to his feet. He yanked her to his pallet, threw her down. "Don't hit me, Sara. Not ever! I may not be able to stop those Thali tarvitches, but you're not one of them!"

  Without thinking, Gary dropped his box, rushed to Dennis, tried to pull him away from Sara. "Dennis, don't."

  Dennis' gaze never left Sara. He jerked his arm from Gary's grasp, and shoved him back. "Leave me alone, Gary. She's been asking for a beating. I'm going to see she gets it!"

  Gary stumbled with the force of Dennis' shove. He slipped on one of the many pallets, had trouble catching his balance. "Dennis, no!" Gary's words echoed in the kennel.

  Sara screamed as Dennis slapped her leg with a resounding thwack. Ignored, Gary did what he should have done to start with and shouted the formal acknowledgment of the presence of a Thali woman. "Lady in the house!"

  For brief moments, absolute stillness settled over the room, then pandemonium struck as everyone tried to get to his/her feet. Gary saw Lucy snatch Denny Joe from the floor and slip through the blanket curtain. The slaves lined up across the blanket, trying, too late Gary feared, to protect the child within. Warder Leanan watched all this with a solemn expression impossible to read.

  When order was restored somewhat, she looked at Gary. "Remove the curtain."

  Gary hesitated a moment too long. Warder Leanan struck the vadagz standing across the blanket with her quirt, annoyance in the set of her mouth. "Out of my way!"

  Alarm and anger rippled through Gary, as Leanan shoved them aside. She grasped the blanket with both hands, gave a hard jerk, and let it billow to the floor. Denny Joe, not quite three months old, was unused to the shouting disruption of the past few minutes. He howled as silence fell.

  Lucy faced the warder's approach with fear wide eyes. Rocking Denny Joe, she tried to hush his cries. Warder Leanan totally ignored the sudden activity behind her, while the vadagz moved to surround her, some moving to the door to stand guard. Gary's gaze swept the room, noted the silent appeal of the others.

  They were waiting, he realized, for him to show them how to deal with the situation. Unsure just what to do, Gary knew Leanan couldn't be allowed to give notice of Denny Joe's existence, if he was to live. Gary's mind shifted into overdrive, searching for a way, any way at all, to handle the problem.

  Gary licked his lips, glanced at Dennis. Face pale, Dennis stood tense, ready to follow Gary's slightest indication. Gary's breath became short, ragged. Think of something, he ordered himself. Think! He gave his friends a wait signal, and moved closer to Leanan, ready to intervene should she try to harm the child.

  Under Gary's steady gaze, Leanan carefully took the baby from Lucy's resisting arms, and sank to the pallet at her feet. Oblivious to Gary's threatening presence, she laid Denny Joe on the pallet. She unwrapped him, then refolded the tattered coverlet around him and lifted him. She cuddled him in her arms. Her auburn hair swirled about her shoulders as she swayed gently to lull his strident cries.

  Soon pacified, Denny Joe reached for her nose, missed, closed his grasping hand on a lock of her hair. His delighted smile gurgled at her. He pulled, then jerked the auburn curls. Leanan bowed her head, began to cry quietly.

  Bewildered, Gary watched her, resisting the sudden urge to comfort her, offer her sympathy. Her job is to kill him, he reminded himself. I can’t let that happen. Tense, still uncertain what to do, Gary studied her. Her face held traces of a grief that seemed to overwhelm her. Her jade eyes, when she looked up at him, seemed to swim in pain. Gary gave himself a shake, told himself to stop imagining things. Thali don’t feel things the way we do. Forcing himself to remember that Leanan held Denny Joe's very life in her hands, Gary clenched his fists.

  Tense moments passed, while Warder Leanan visibly struggled to contain her distress. Then, with an expression akin to self-disgust, she wiped her eyes, and stood. Gary moved so that she faced him. Denny Joe held against her breast, Leanan's haunted eyes considered Gary's unconscious defensive stance. She turned her head to study each of the others. If the threatening gazes leveled at her frightened her, Gary saw no indication of it.

  The warder sighed, returned the infant to Lucy's arms. Duty required her to report the baby, Gary knew, but as he watched her struggle to check the tears welling into her eyes, he didn't believe that she would. And she’s going to set you free, too, jeered a voice at the back of his mind. His frown became a scowl.

  Leanan took a deep breath, almost a sob, then relaxed. It was as if she had come to a decision and found it satisfying. "Is he yours?" she asked Lucy softly. Lucy made no answer.

  Sara circled the warder, walked to Lucy's side, and took her son. She faced Leanan, holding Denny Joe protectively. "He's mine."

  The two young women studied each other for several moments. A flurry of emotions Gary couldn't identify flitted across Leanan's heart-shaped face, ending in what he could only describe as shame. Leanan cleared her throat, and looked at Denny Joe. "I had a son," she said with a catch in her voice. "The Scarlet Council had him killed."

  In the dead silence that followed her statement, Gary swallowed. Understanding her grief, if grief it was, made his task that much more difficult. The warder abruptly turned back to Gary, pointed to the box he had carried in. "Try it on."

  Gary hesitated, then walked to the box. He stripped, put on the black tunic and stepped into the pants. He pulled on the boots, stomped his feet to get them on more comfortably. Someone had gone to the trouble of making sure they were exactly the right size. After hooking the chain link belt around his waist over the tunic, he examined the wristbands and put them on.

  Warder Leanan looked him up and down critically, then nodded. "Turn around."

  Gary turned in a slow circle. Curiosity conquered caution, as he faced Leanan again. He gestured to the tight V-neck, sleeveless costume he wore. "What's this
for?"

  Her face registered her surprise. Taught early the consequences of speaking without permission, slaves seldom spoke to Thali. This was the second time Gary had spoken to her. Her solemn appraisal made him uneasy.

  "I don't know," she finally said. "Put it back in the box." She didn't strike him as the Vadagz Code of Behavior dictated.

  While stripping again, Gary considered her. He carefully refolded the clothes, replaced them, then redressed in his standard slave garb; white pants with laced front, and white tunic. Boldly he met Leanan's somber gaze, while he slipped his cloth sandals in place. "What about the baby?"

  "Are you his father?"

  "No."

  "Then why do you care?"

  "I care."

  Behind her, Dennis took a step forward, but stopped when Gary waved him back.

  "I haven't seen a baby." Leanan looked again at Denny Joe, then at Sara. "I lost my son. That is an agony I can't forget." She bowed her head, lowered her voice. Gary had to strain to hear her. "Replace the blanket. Keep him quiet."

  Leery of such good fortune, Gary frowned. "Are you saying we can trust you, Warder?" He shook his head. "It isn't that easy."

  Again, Leanan glanced around the room. Seeming to realize that she might be in danger, her eyes grew wide. She looked at Gary, incredulity in her eyes. Try as he did, Gary saw no fear. "You would kill for this child?"

  "I would."

  Leanan laughed. Taken aback, Gary tilted his head to the left, his eyes narrowed into metal slits. "That's funny?"

  "Yes," she said, laughing harder.

  "Why?"

  "For a threat of death to be effective," she told him, gasping, then gaining control, "the one threatened has to fear death."

  "You don't?"

  "No." A sob broke from her throat. "My son was all I had left. Now . . .." She choked. "Now, I just don't care enough to fear anything."

  Her hand flew to her hip, released the flap of her holster, and drew her laser. Gary jumped toward her, but she moved too fast. He stopped, stunned, staring at the gaping maw of her weapon. His entire body tensed, awaiting the flash of searing light. He raised his gaze to see open amusement on Leanan's face.

  His mind went blank. Then, while Gary watched, stunned into immobility, she snapped the safety on, and threw the laser at him. It thudded heavily at his feet. Without thinking, he bent and picked it up. He looked back at the warder. There was no amusement on her face now, just tranquil acceptance of whatever might come.

  "Use it," she said.

  “You want to die?"

  "I told you," she said, irritably, "that I don't care, one way or the other. If you feel safer, use the pistol."

  Her eyes clouded with pain. "If you truly believe that I would do anything to hurt that child, kill me!"

  "Were you going to report him?"

  "What for? It's not my job to report him, it's my job to kill him. And her, too," she added, pointing at Sara. She shook her head. "I won't do that. I don't owe them anything. Everything I ever had, the council took from me. My family, my son . . . everything." She bowed her head. "Just do it. Get it over with."

  Gary stared at the laser in his hand, then shook his head. "I . . . can't." He tossed the pistol back to her, matched her puzzled expression with one of his own. "What now?"

  She looked almost disappointed. "Now," she said, sighing as she secured the weapon in her holster, "I have work to do." She walked around Gary, walked to the door. There she waited for Dennis and Juan to move aside. Unsure, they looked at Gary, then reluctantly moved to one side when he nodded.

  Leanan looked back at Sara, and smiled sadly. "You're very lucky to have such friends."

  Sara nodded, the ghost of a smile on her lips. "Yes, I am."

  Leanan turned her gaze back to Gary. "You are a good leader to these people," she told him. Gary frowned at her. "Had you killed me," Leanan told him, "the sound of the laser would have brought the sentinel running. Trusting your instincts kept you all alive." Head high, shoulders back, Leanan left the kennel as if nothing unusual had happened.

  Dennis shook his head, unconvinced, Gary knew, that his son was safe. "Think she'll report him?"

  Before Gary could answer, Sara said, "No, she won't."

  Gary watched Dennis cross the room to Sara, put his arms around her. He pulled her close, their small son between them. "I'm sorry, Sara. I love you."

  Eyes closed, Sara leaned against him. "I love you, too," she murmured. She inhaled shakily, and looked up at him. "We still have to feed Denny Joe."

  Dennis chuckled. "You feed him. I'll bathe him after, okay?" He squeezed her again, then let her go. Sara carried Denny Joe to the corner, where his bowl still waited, to resume his interrupted lunch.

  Juan picked up the blanket, started to hang it. Lucy caught the other end. "I'll help you," she offered. Smiling shyly, she ducked her head, when he glanced down at her. A speculative smile touched his lips, spread to his dark brown eyes. "Gracias.”

  Gary slipped his arm around Donna's waist when she stepped up beside him. She was still trembling. "You know," said Gary, gazing thoughtfully at the door. "I feel sorry for her. She must be going through hell, them taking her kid, and all."

  For a long time, no one said anything. Gary looked at Dennis, found him nodding. "They don't treat each other much better than they treat us," said Dennis. "Those tarvitches need to be taught better."

  "Ummm," said Gary, wishing he could be the instructor of that class. A sudden thought lashed him like a whip out of nightmare. We could all have been killed! He hung his head, suppressed his furious groan. “What now?” he mumbled to himself. What now?

  ******

  Late that night, Dennis jerked into wakefulness. A hand was pressed over his mouth. A shadow bent over him.

  "Wake up, Dennis." Sara's soft voice didn't reveal the reason for fine the tremors in her hand.

  Taking her hand in his, he removed it from his lips. "What's wrong?"

  "Denny Joe's sick."

  Dennis sat up. "How bad?"

  "Lucy thinks it's zraivi." He heard the catch in her voice. "We can't get his fever down."

  Still holding her hand in his, Dennis rolled to his feet. He pulled her toward the blanket curtain, careful not to step on the little ones on their pallets. "Has anyone else come down with it?"

  "No, but . . .," Sara began crying. "Lucy said she's been exposed at the Med-Center. She thinks he may have gotten it from her."

  Dennis kept his voice steady. If Sara knew how upset he was, she would have more trouble dealing it. "He'll be okay, honey." But even as he spoke, he was remembering the epidemic that swept through the kennel a year ago. Most of the littlest ones had died with raging fever, some with convulsions.

  He held aside the curtain, allowed Sara to precede him into the small makeshift nursery. Lucy sat cross-legged on the pallet, rocking Denny Joe. Her fatigue heavy eyes met Dennis' worried gaze. He smiled, hoping to ease the guilt on her face.

  In the closeness of the small room, the cloying stench of sickness assaulted his senses. Breathing shallowly to control his sudden nausea, Dennis knelt beside Lucy. He lifted the single candle lighting the room, held it closer to Denny Joe. Eyelids half closed, the irises of the baby's eyes had rolled up. Only the whites could be seen. Mouth open, Denny Joe gasped for breath.

  Dennis stroked Denny Joe's forehead with his free hand, and frowned. High fever had dried the baby's skin, causing it to feel like dry parchment. He sat back on his heels, and ran his hand through his hair. He looked at Lucy. "Do you know what to do for him?"

  Lucy glanced at Sara, then looked back at Dennis. Chin quivering, she nodded. "Yes, but," she lifted a hand to wipe away a solitary tear sliding down her face, "I don't have the medicine he needs. There's not much even a Healer could do, except to keep his fever down, and give him fluids, but he won't take water, or wealla, and he won't nurse."

  Dennis watched his son fight for another breath. "What do you need, and where would I find it?"


  "Kelna. The only place that I know of that would have it is the infirmary." Still rocking, Lucy looked down at the gasping child. "If we don't get his fever down, Dennis," she added, her voice choked with pain, "he's going to die."

  Dennis stomach knotted painfully. Behind him, Sara began to cry again. "No," he said, standing slowly. "He's not going to die. I'll get the medicine somehow. Kelna?"

  Lucy nodded. Dennis turned to Sara. He gave her a quick hug, then let her go, and stepped through the curtain. Dennis stood still for a timeless moment, eyes closed, while he tried to figure out how to get into the infirmary without being detected. He took a deep breath, shrugged, and opened his eyes. Move it, Dennis! You have to! Following the meandering path to the door, Dennis suddenly jerked to a stop, startled as Bobby sat up in front of him.

  "What's up?"

  "Denny Joe's sick. I'm going after some medicine."

  Bobby came to his feet, trailed Dennis to the door. Dennis stopped, turned to face him. "Where do you think you're going?"

  "You might need some help. If nothing else, I'll keep watch."

  "I don't need any help."

  “Denny Joe may be your son, Dennis, but he belongs to the rest of us, too. I'm going."

  Dennis shook his head, jerked his thumb toward Bobby's pallet. "Go back to sleep, Bobby. If I don't make it, you can try later."

  "I'm going, Dennis. The only way you can stop me will make enough noise to wake up the whole compound."

  Annoyed, yet grateful for the company, Dennis shrugged, and slipped out the door. Peering around, he moved quickly through the fog shrouding the compound, away from the mist-haloed floodlights into the deeper shadows between the kennels. While waiting for Bobby, he swallowed and wiped his sweaty palm on his thighs. If we get caught . . .. No. He wouldn't think about that. He glanced around the compound and clenched his fists.

  Early morning fog provided low visibility. It would help them reach the infirmary unseen, but it would hide the Sentinel's locations, too. Housed in the same building as the Keeper's office, the infirmary was an indistinct silhouette on the far side of the compound.