4: A New Life (2 of 4)
Vantaiga’s mother escorted the young maiden through the crowded and ramshackle streets that made up the marketplace of the outer city. Vantaiga, older but now gaunt and weakened by hunger, struggled to keep up with her mother. She was both anxious and excited: her mother had found a job for her.
Vantaiga had lost track of the months, or maybe even years since her family first arrived at the wretched refugee camp. The commotion and monotony of the tent city made Vantaiga retreat to an inner world where she could dream of growing an abundant garden to escape the chaos and her growing hunger.
But now she would finally have a job to help the family to buy food. In the past, she spoke little while she hid within her daydream world, but she did occasionally listen to what was being said around her. She knew there was not enough food for all the people still coming into the city. She knew her family was not eating enough, and her mother was concerned for their future. And though Vantaiga tried to hide it beneath her robes, she knew there were discussions of her skeletal frame.
Vantaiga weakly asked between staggered breaths, “Will I get... to meet other girls there?”
Her mother replied dryly as they pushed their way through the crowds, “It’s a large household. I’m sure they will have many servants of all ages.”
Vantaiga liked the idea of working with other girls her age. She did not have many opportunities to make friends.
“Will the masters of the house be nice?”
Her mother huffed at her. “If you do as you’re told and work hard, they will be nice. Now keep up!”
Despite her fatigue, Vantaiga had too many questions to be deterred. She also had yet to be told what her job actually was. “Do they have a garden? Will I be able to work in the garden?”
“You will have to work wherever they say you are to work. Quickly now!” Her mother quickened the pace. Vantaiga had more questions, but her stumbling steps and struggling breath made it too difficult to speak, making her concentrate just to stay with her mother.
The pair made their way through the stalls and small shops and eventually reached the far edge of the market where livestock were sold and traded. Some pens contained exotic animals that Vantaiga had only ever heard about. Other pens contained people chained to posts—slaves to be traded or sold. Vantaiga recognized them as foreigners. It was forbidden for anyone to enslave a citizen. Some of them, though, looked as if they could have been poor farming families such as hers.
The streets widened and eventually opened to a gate into the city’s interior. Guards stationed at the gate watched over carts, caravans, and people coming and going. Vantaiga was surprised to see people moving so freely to and from the city. Her mother stopped before approaching the gate as Vantaiga caught up to her.
She looked at her mother, out of breath. “Can’t we… just go in?”
“No. We can’t go inside the city without being stopped.”
“But everyone else is just walking through.”
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“It’s a busy city. The guards will get in trouble if they interrupt the traders. But if they don’t know you, you will be stopped.”
Vantaiga looked more closely at the guards and noticed they were astutely watching everyone that passed. She noticed her mother was intently looking over the activity of the gate as well.
“What are you looking for?”
“I am looking for the person from the house you are to work for.”
Vantaiga looked as well, even though she did not know who she was looking for. Eventually, her mother pulled Vantaiga to a wall by the side of the street. She was thankful for the rest as the two of them sat and waited.
Vantaiga resumed watching the activity of the street and the gate. “What will I have to do at this house?”
Her mother’s gaze shifted into the distance. “Whatever they want you to do.” After a pause, she continued, “I’m sure it will mostly be cleaning.” She followed with a laugh. “You’re too skinny to do any heavy work.”
“I’m strong enough to do what needs to be done.” She wondered what the house would look like. “Will I get to live at the house?”
Her mother took a long moment before drawing in a breath. “Yes, you will live there.” She smiled at Vantaiga with a rare hint of warmth. “And you will be fed.”
Vantaiga liked the idea of living at a lord’s household, even if it was just as a servant. Her fatigue and the heat of the day made it easy for the na?ve, young farm girl to slip into the thoughts of what her accommodations might be like and who she would have to live with. With little experience in the city, and even less understanding of rich households, a realm of exciting possibilities displayed itself before the young maiden’s imagination. That was until an ache began to well up in her stomach.
She shot a look to her mother, but her mother was beginning to rise to her feet. Vantaiga grabbed her by the sleeve. “When will I be able to see you?”
Her mother grabbed her arm and pulled her. “Get up! The head maid is here for you.”
Vantaiga stood and looked to see an elder woman approaching them. She wore a peasant’s chador, but the bright colours told Vantaiga she was a woman of status. The ache in Vantaiga’s stomach moved to her chest. “But will I get to see you?”
Her mother’s face hardened, and she shook her head in annoyance. “Your employer is here. Be quiet.”
The two women greeted each other with only a civil nod.
“So this is your daughter?” The head maid looked over Vantaiga neither harshly nor kindly but with the cold dissipation of someone conducting business.
Her mother nodded. “Yes.”
“She is very thin and pale. Is she healthy?”
Her mother put on an air of dignity. “She is thin, but she has strength. In a meal or two, she will be able to show you that.”
Vantaiga was taken aback for a moment. She wasn’t used to hearing a compliment from her mother.
The woman took Vantaiga by the wrist and spread her arms aside to look over her thin frame more completely. She looked more seriously at her mother this time. “It looks like I have only your word to take for it. Does she speak well?”
The mother gave her daughter a prod. “She is courteous. Greet your mistress, Van.”
Vantaiga summoned her strength to push back her gnawing doubt and regained her composure. “I am pleased to meet you, ma’am.”
The woman looked over Vantaiga again. The unusual scrutiny was making her feel uncomfortable and objectified.
The head maid finally nodded. “Very well, she will do.” She gave Vantaiga a final glance before turning to her mother. “So we are in agreement, then?”
Her mother paused and clenched her jaw before finally nodding. “Yes.”
The woman spoke matter-of-factly as she produced a small pouch. “Very good.” The pouched jingled as her mother took it and quickly folded it into her robe. The woman then placed her hand on Vantaiga’s shoulder and slowly but irresistibly pushed her forward. “Come with me, child.”
Vantaiga let the woman lead her forward, but, confused, she turned back to her mother. “When will I see you again?”
The older woman stopped and turned as well. There was an exchange of looks between the two women that Vantaiga did not understand. It was an exchange that took only a breath, but it hardened itself into her mind.
Her mother finally broke the awkward silence. “Do as they say, and they will let you know.”
With her words, the woman nodded and resumed pushing Vantaiga forward. “The Master of Servants is waiting.”