Chronicles of Den'dra: A land on Fire

by Spencer Johnson

  One night I did the unthinkable and snuck into the solar where the lessons were taught. I had taken to mending clothes in the closet next door and so I had overheard many of the lessons. I honed my memory and tried to connect what I had heard with what I was seeing on the slates in the rooms. I would use my imagination to conjure slates of my own and practice drawing the characters. I would spend hours a night committing scribbles on the boards to memory and often the rest of the night trying to piece what I had heard together with what I had seen. This went on for months. I would spend every moment that I could excuse working near the solar and picking up fragments of the lessons and half my nights memorizing the writings. My learning was fragmented at best, but I learned to spell my name. Tamara. The simple yet indescribable joy that I felt when I was able to spell it out for the first time.

  A short time after this breakthrough, I was examining a slate in the solar one night by the light of the twin moons when the tutor came in unexpectedly. He rummaged through a pile of books on the desk while I cowered in a dark shadow holding my breath. I almost escaped notice when he found his book and turned to leave. That was when he saw the slate that I had carelessly left lying in the moonlight. He walked over, then began squinting into the shadow where I hid. I bolted for the door when he came a step close in the hopes that I could escape recognition if I moved fast enough. My only thought was that I was going to get the worst whipping of all time if I was caught. I shook like a leaf anytime someone called my name the next day.

  Old Melindra, the woman that I had helped out when first arriving, noticed my strange behavior and confronted me. I had come to look at her as a friend and might have as a mother if my own mother had been remotely as kind as Melindra. I confessed what I had done in the hopes that she could help me extricate myself from my predicament. This, I now believe, she was unable to do. Her opinions concerning head knowledge for girls was deep seated and ready to her tongue. She lectured me at length about the folly of coveting knowledge that I had no right to and even found a way of labeling the learning that I had already acquired as theft. I was in tears by the time she got around to forbidding any further intellectual forays. Being the quiet girl that I was, I simply promised through my tears, but resolved to be more careful that night. I made plans of doing my memorizations in a hidden corner of the room lest anyone else happened to be about at that late hour.

  My plans were set in motion and I waited until a suspicious Melindra checked to ensure that I was indeed sleeping on my cot rather than gallivanting around the house chasing foolish notions. Following her departure, I arranged some blankets and clothes in the bed and slipped out into the halls. I had no need for a candle and with no difficulty found myself unseen at the door to the solar. It was here that I was seized by the fear that someone might already be in there. Carefully opening the door, I saw nothing alarming. Encouraged by the auspicious start, I crept inside and made for the slates I knew to be scattered around the lordling’s workspace. I had only picked up the first when the unthinkable happened.

  My spirits and resolve shattered as the door slammed shut behind me. A moment later there was a flash of light as a candle was removed from behind a thick blanket. I was trapped and knew it. It took a moment before I recognized the lordling’s teacher holding the candle with a puzzled expression. He demanded to know what I was doing. Incredibly, he didn’t march me to the master of the house and demand a severe punishment. He instead cleared a slate and ordered me to show him what I had learned. My joy was unsurpassed when he offered to teach me what I had missed. Most of it was simple things like a letter that I had memorized upside down or the gaps that came as a result of being called to other duties instead of eavesdropping. We fulfilled each other’s needs. He desired a student that actually cared about learning as much as he and I had a voracious appetite for knowledge.

  Our midnight learning sessions continued for a few months before one night the master of the house burst through the door with Melindra close behind. I was stricken with terror and disappointment in the woman that I loved. I was relieved when I was ordered to return to bed and was hustled out of the room with Melindra’s claw like fingers digging into my arm to the tune of how imbecilic I was the whole way to my bed. I was heartbroken having lost my chance at learning. I was sure to be punished severely come morning, but that was nothing compared to my sorrow at having the ability to continue my education slip from my fingers. I craved it more than I needed food or water.

  I cried myself to sleep and was plagued by dreams. In some, I was clinging to a rope I knew was knowledge while watching in horrified fascination as it frayed and broke above my head. Another dream had a great woman offering me a place in her household, but when I held up my calloused fingers and confessed I couldn’t read, she turned away in disappointment. It seemed to me that learning would mean the difference between life and death. Another dream followed in quick succession. I saw the lordling, only a few years older; he was bound and a prisoner. The cords were made of words and numbers. The same dream had him turning me on the roasting spit over a crackling fire. This time, I was the one bound by words and numbers, only I couldn’t read them to know how to undo them. There was one last dream. It terrified me most of all. I saw men all around me. They would ask me questions that I had no answer to. Every wrong answer turned a new set of eyes on me. The last set of eyes would signal my doom. I knew the answers were in the books I held, but each had a lock and I had no key. Morning came and I wept a few more tears.

  Putting on a brave face that felt like an empty mask, I dressed and washed the tears off my countenance. I was going about my chores when Josen, the teacher, appeared and told me to follow him. He led me to the solar where he announced that because of the advanced state of my studies, I was going to be assisting the little lordling with his letters and numbers. Those two moments in my life I was the happiest. When Josen offered to teach me and when he made me an actual pupil free to pursue learning for three hours each morning. I learned later that he had argued in my defense and risked being sent away or worse. He had prevailed with the argument that Melindra was old and getting feebler by the day and that a new housekeeper would have to replace her err long. There was a couple other women who were eyeing the position, but Josen argued that a housekeeper that could read and write with the ability to do arithmetic would be far more valuable. Consequently, I was granted the privilege of learning if my other duties were not neglected.

  Little Oscarion was livid that a mere girl had outpaced him in secret. The indignity of it couldn’t be tolerated. At first he besot his father to right the injustice, but when that failed, he actually applied himself for a time in the hopes that he could prove once and for all that he, being the heir to a noble house, was in fact superior to a purchased servant wench. He took to calling me that whenever he could to remind me of my place. After the unhappy discovery that he couldn’t casually best me at learning, he set about sabotaging my education in every way possible. His tricks were insufferable, but I refused to be distracted by him. I was reading and writing months before he and I had read a hundred books before he voluntarily picked up one. He eventually gave up and left me be, unless he had concocted some especially diabolical plot meant to rob me of my learning. He even went so far as to give himself a black eye in order to blame it on me. I was whipped for the crime, but never gave him the satisfaction of making a sound or giving up my pursuit of knowledge.

  It was four years before Melindra died. I grieved her despite her treatment of me after I began formally taking lessons from Josen. I would often get up before the first light in order to finish the items she had given me the prior evening and demanded to be finished before lessons begin. Despite all her efforts, she left me more freedom at her death than I had experienced my entire life.

  As the new housekeeper, my duties involved managing all the servants in the household. Many of the more senior servants were resentful. Several of them were more than twice my age; however, I was able to prove
myself to them. The household soon was running like a well-oiled machine. Due to the increased efficiency, there were fewer incidents involving the whipping post and for that, many were grateful. Lord Estavo Loneka was pleased and gave me more responsibilities. I soon was in charge of the entire estate. The gardens, stables, fields and crafters that fell under Estavo’s direct authority answered to me. He was happy with my management and began taking long absences to Shienhin.

  In my spare time, I was able to continue with my education. There was the huge library that resided in the Loneka family estate so I read continually. Soon I had surpassed Josen’s ability to instruct. He left soon after, leaving me the unhappy task of finishing Oscarion’s education. I understood why Josen had left once he had found I knew more than he. The only thing left to do had been trying to force information into that lordling’s thick skull. I persisted for the simple reason that Oscarion hated it. On his sixteenth birthday he announced that he had learned all he needed to in order to rule house Loneka after his father were to leave it to him. I shuddered at the thought. His writing was barely legible and he still used his fingers to do sums.

  Oscarion replaced his hobby of avoiding anything that might be construed as learning or work to his new pastime of tormenting me. His new goal in life was to put me out of the household. No longer did his little stories work. I had gained a position of trust with Lord Estavo. He had also tired of his offspring’s antics years before. The devious plots were soon being set into motion left and right. One moment I was the victim of a vicious rumor that detailed shockingly undignified activities at night. Soon it was rumored that I had bedded every man on the estate. That rumor died under its own weight, but another sprang up to take its place. I was accused of having stolen a great deal of money and only by the quick actions of a young servant who had seen Oscarion entering my room with the money that was eventually found hidden under his bed. Shamed at his own game, Oscarion grew to hate me rather than simply despise me.

  A few years before, my hair had paled until it was nearly a pure white. One day I noticed that my ears had a peculiar shape to them. This eventually developed into the pointed ears described in several of the books that I had read. This realization had terrified me at first, but my hair had always been pale so it wasn’t hard to escape any abnormal notice by simply wearing my hair down so that it covered my ears. I knew that if my secret were to be discovered, my life would most likely be forfeit. Years passed with my secret safe until one day while in the bath, Oscarion had burst into the room. At first he had made some feeble excuse while leering then stopped and stared. My wet hair had been brushed to one side and the secret of my heritage was visible. He fled the room while I was left to ponder what he might do with his new found leverage. I was sure that he would most likely turn me in to rid me out of his life. I was a constant reminder of what he didn’t have the backbone to become and now he knew that I was not entirely what everyone thought.

  The days passed and Oscarion avoided me. Since no soldiers came, I began to suspect that he planned on using the information in a different way. My mind invented hundreds of ways that he could extort me. The first came when he began ordering me around. I complied if his orders fell within my duties, but firmly refused or delegated when he asked for things that I was not required to do as the housekeeper.

  He once demanded that I lick up something he had spilled on the floor. I asked one of my subordinates to mop the mess up and left him fuming. He came to me later and threatened to tell if I didn’t do as he said. When I asked what he would tell, he became confused and began to question what he had seen. I played on that seed of doubt until I felt certain that he wasn’t sure enough to make any accusations. I found him in the library reading a book on the races that spoke of every race that dwelt on Den’dra. Suspecting that he wanted to learn more about elves, I hid every book I had come across that mentioned them.

  I had already read anything that mentioned elves and knew that all the elves in the south were supposed to have a light golden or blonde hue to their hair while mine had become a pure white. I read in another tome about another race of elves called the dark elves. Their men and women were described as having white hair. The wording described it as a color that one would expect to see manifested in an organism that dwelt in a cave deprived of all light. While I wouldn’t have used those words, the fact remained that I resembled the description given these dark elves. I also read that dark elves had been on the side of evil during the Millennium Wars and had been hunted to near extinction after the wars had ended for the part that they played. There was no chance that I wanted Oscarion to know that facet of my heritage.

  As things would go, Oscarion left me alone for a couple years. He and I barely acknowledged each other as we passed in the hallways. Things would likely have gone on in this fashion except Lady Loneka died suddenly. Lord Estavo stayed home for a time following the death. He began to feel the effects of mortality and began thinking about what would happen to the noble house of Loneka after his demise. He saw that his son was unfit to rule in his place. Oscarion had not one whit of qualification beyond that it was his right to inherit. Until that time should come, the lordling sought to pass the time and did so in many ways that Estavo found to be damaging to his reputation and that of his house. To correct this, he refused Oscarion any spending money until he should reform.

  Oscarion flew into a fit of rage and naturally blamed me for his misfortune. He grew morose and ill tempered. He no longer had access to the company he had kept and I was forced to deal with the servant girls that he began to turn his unwanted attentions towards. One day he attempted to drag a lavender into a closet right in front of me. I snapped and gave him a thorough dressing down in front of the lavender and a few of the other servants. He glared at me the while before slinking off to nurse his pride in the privacy of his room. I cautioned the servant girls to stay a safe distance from him and thought no more of the incident.

  The familiar surroundings and the bitter disappointment of his wore at Estavo so returned to Shienhin sometime after the incident with the lavender. He wanted Oscarion to go with him, but the young man had steadfastly refused. Once his father was gone, he returned to his old lifestyle with glee and abandon. I chased several of the local whores out of the house on multiple occasions. He confronted me when I removed the valuables and placed them under lock and key with myself having the only key after they had begun disappearing. He was incensed and ranted about me having no right to interfere in his life. I should have seen it coming that day when I saw the hatred in his eyes.

  Some days after that confrontation, word came calling the vassals to arms in the name of the Queen. Rebels had taken advantage of the King’s death, if one accorded any truth to the rumors. By the same rumors, the rebels were responsible for poisoning the King. The levies were raised and the men marched north under the command of a major that was loyal to Estavo. The master of the house himself returned to the manor for rest to settle his gout, not that he got much rest. I heard the shouted arguments between father and son often through the nights.

  Estavo left for Shienhin again for the coronation ceremony. He returned a short time later in extreme agitation. I never heard the specifics until a couple days after. It would seem that a rebel attack during the coronation ceremony had injured the new Queen and she was undergoing a slow recovery in the great castle. A few days later, I heard that Estavo was returning to Shienhin with Oscarion. He had received a private correspondence in which Oscarion’s eligibility as a suitor for the ailing princess was expounded upon at great length. It was left on a dresser and I happened to read it while cleaning Estavo’s room.

  The next day, Oscarion came at me barely able to stagger he was so steeped in liquor. He slurred about how he was going to be the king and that I couldn’t tell him no any longer. I shoved him away and left him cursing my back as he tried to regain his feet. I learned then that the bandit that had sold me had driven a poor bargain. Sixty-five silvers compared
to the gold coin my mother had gotten for selling me into this life. He informed my retreating back that when he was king, he would have me skewered and roasted over a slow fire. He wouldn’t take my insolence a day longer. I ignored him knowing that no woman would ever marry him once she met him. He had no hope of wooing the Queen if she ever saw that he was an entitled lout with the mentality of a child and speech that included few conversational words, but more words along the line of ones that could curl a sailor’s toes.

  My only hope was that Estavo would live a long life before Oscarion wrestled house Loneka out of his cold dead fingers. It was then that I first considered leaving. Knowing that you are valued at less than half the price of the figurine on the table by the door that I hadn’t thought worth locking up. It was depressing to realize that I was valued at little more than the price for a fine bottle of a golden vintage from the Garoche lowlands. I was sickened by Oscarion’s avarice and wanted to stop thinking of him, but something in the back of my mind warned me that I should watch my back. If he remembered my rebuff when he sobered, he was sure to invent some new device to make my life miserable.

  The next day I saw Oscarion carrying a satchel out to the wagons waiting in the courtyard. He saw me and his eyes glittered in a leer that turned my stomach. I wondered how any of the town whores could have bedded the filth that I saw in his expression. I reminded myself that he would be leaving within a couple hours and that my routine would settle back down into the same quiet rhythm that I enjoyed. Alas, this was not to be the case.