Chapter 12: The Meaning of Women’s Fashion

  Ari’El didn’t mind rising from her bed when evening arrived. She didn’t even notice the forlorn look on Amos’ face or that E’Tar was still struggling to fix the table he had broken. She made supper, ate, told Amos to clean up after her, and made her way to the palace as quickly as possible.

  She had just been ordered to clean the privy buckets in the guard room when Kyros himself entered the kitchen and, spotting her said, “Ah, there you are, Ari’El. Come, I am in need of your help.”

  She followed him out of the kitchen and they began their research once again. The pair sat in the library, looking over scroll after scroll and occasionally jotting notes. In the middle of this process, Kyros leaned back, stretched his cramped muscles, and began to chat with Ari’El in earnest.

  “So…Ari’El. How long have you been working for the wonderful Lord Rim-Sum of Hatisep?”p

  “About a year and a half, my lord.”

  “And before that?”

  “I worked in a menders shop, cleaning, cooking, and generally helping in the craft.”

  “Had he no wife to help?”

  “She had several children to care for, usually a new one every year as well.”

  “I see! No children yourself, I presume.”

  She cast an incredulous look at him and he laughed. “It would not be the strangest thing! A woman of your age and beauty would likely struggle to feed a young one.”

  “Not quite a child…” she muttered but didn’t continue.

  “When did you leave that wonderful job to work here?”

  “They moved away and I wished to earn a higher pay. I was the only one working. My caretaker was…not accustomed to hard work and was getting old.”

  “Is this job all you had hoped for?”

  She shrugged. “It’s work. One does not usually go to work to find it pleasant.”

  “I suppose. But now, you mentioned you had a caretaker. And not quite a child…”

  She looked up at him, pensive and biting her lip in thought, before responding. “My caretaker is retired now. He was an old friend of my father who promised to take care of us when my father passed away. The ‘child’ is my younger brother and his friend who is boarding with us. Both are full-grown men but quite helpless…in a way.”

  Kyros’s smile was most disarming. “So, you have shouldered the task of primary support for your family. That is a difficult burden for any woman to bear.”

  “I shall not be the first nor I doubt the last.”

  “No, that is not likely. It does not make it any less difficult.”

  She was silent. He took another scroll and unrolled it, studying it with feigned interest. He spoke nonchalantly, “Will you be single your whole life then, caring for your helpless brother and his friend?”

  “I hardly see how it is your business or why you would care.” She spotted the startled look he gave her and, blushing, hurried on, “Apologies, my lord. I meant…I am content where I am right now.”

  She grimaced as her voice caught at the last phrase. He caught it too as he looked up his scroll and stared at her. “But that isn’t true…is it? You are quite unhappy with this life.”

  She shook her head and, letting out a laugh filled with bitter irony said, “I am up in the late hours of the night doing research for a lord and unable to sleep in my bed. Does this not speak for itself?”

  “I suppose it would. I am grateful for your help. Did I say that yet? How careless, I was remiss. Thank you so much for your help, Ari’El. You are truly a blessing in disguise.”

  She threw up a hand to stop him. “That is quite enough, my lord. I am grateful to be reading again after so long.”

  “Ah yes, you used to read more, likely during your education.”

  Her face turned to stone again and she continued reading. As she leaned over, her necklace of stones shifted out from beneath her neckline and he spotted them. He nodded toward her. “Your beads…you have quite a collection of them. They are a habit of women within the United Houses. I suppose some women in the outer lands take up the custom too.”

  “You presume rightly.” She self-consciously fingered her beads.

  “May I see them more closely?”

  She nodded and lifted the necklace over her head, handing it to him. He studied each bead, some intricate, others simpler. Between each bead was a knot in the string to keep them in place. “You know…these beads indicate a noble heritage. The first few are quite ornate, even jewels. It is clever that you keep those hidden near the back which would be covered by your hair or veil.”

  She stiffened at his words but didn’t respond.

  He pointed to a fancy one. “A false diamond. Very nice. When did you put this one on? What was the occasion?”

  She hesitated but he continued to stare at her, waiting for an answer. She began, her voice faltering. “I…I received it as a gift. It was from…” she sighed and rolled her eyes heavenward. “A young man if you must know.”

  His smile widened. “You must have fancied him.”

  “Heavens no!” she shook her head and smiled sadly. “I was flattered by it, and thought perhaps to have a whole string of beads from men who doted on me but would never obtain me.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Really?! You were quite the-”

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  “Spoiled and foolish girl, yes. May I have them back now?”

  “What about this colorful one? With the…flower? Is that a flower painted on it?”

  “That one is private.”

  He shrugged. “Reaching womanhood. And this one, that is gold?”

  Her face flushed a darker shade. “It was my mother's. She received it from father on their engagement and she gave it to me before she died.”

  Her voice was stern now and her hand extended. Kyros’s smile faltered and he quickly handed the necklace back to her. “I’m sorry. I meant no harm. Most women’s necklaces in the United Houses, should they choose to practice it, are foolish. Something for poorer young women to put together to make themselves feel important. I didn’t realize yours had so much meaning in it.”

  “It has plenty of foolishness,” said Ari’El, putting it back over her head.

  There was silence as both stared at separate scrolls. He then asked, without looking up. “Are there any since you came to live here?”

  A sigh from her. “Just one.”

  “The large black one in the center…am I correct?”

  “You are.”

  Silence once again stretched between them. The scratching of quill on paper continued as they went about their work. Kyros finally spoke again. “Will you tell me about yourself? Who you are? What do you enjoy? What are your aspirations?”

  She was silent and it seemed she wouldn’t answer until she asked, “Will you do the same?”

  “Of course! Anything to drown out this tedious silence! I am used to silence in a good deal of my work and if I can avoid it this time, I would.”

  “Very well…you may start with a question for me then I shall ask you one.”

  He smiled. “Very well…how old are you?”

  “That isn’t a polite question to ask.”

  “Then…how old were you when you came here.”

  “Four and ten.

  “Ah…you must be six and twenty now. The war ended twelve years ago.”

  Ari’El looked up, frowning. “That’s cheating!”

  “Perhaps. Ladies make such a fuss about age. It is simply an age. It denotes nothing, not even life experience for that may vary by birth and circumstance.”

  “True. How old are you then?”

  “And easy question. I am eight and fifty.”

  “Eight and fifty? You do not appear so.”

  “Thank you. Now, let me think…what is your occupation if you could choose.”

  She looked ready to respond. Stopped, thought about it, then shrugged. “I am not quite sure.”

  “Yes, you are. The answer was there on your face.”

  “It is not applicable anymore.”

  “So? I didn’t say these had to be realistic answers.”

  “Very well. A lady.”

  He laughed. “But you are a lady.”

  “I mean a lady. One who is rich and her work consists of raising children, managing household affairs, and attending to political matters of state concerning the house.”

  “Ah! An excellent choice! And one I presume you were being groomed for before…”

  “Are you a Great Son?”

  He started at her interruption but did not take it poorly. “Why, yes. I am. Do…you know what that means?”

  “Yes. You live longer lives than many others due to blood and have healthier bodies and minds…or so you claim.”

  “That is also true, a claim by the purists at any rate. I have seen plenty of sickly Great Sons to know that too much inbreeding weakens bloodlines.”

  “So, you are still relatively young in years.”

  “I suppose so. But we are still susceptible to death by weapon or disease like anyone else. Besides, many consider seventy to be middle-aged. So, I shall be there before I know it.”

  “What is that like?”

  “To be a Great Son? I don’t know. What is it like to be a woman? It is as natural to yourself as being a Great Son is to me. But that is a second question, now I get two questions.”

  “Very well. You may ask.”

  “How is your research going? Have you found anything of interest yet?”

  Ari’El shook her head. “I have a few transactions that seem to go nowhere. I have yet to find any specific recurring names yet that might be of interest. Here, this is what I have written so far.”

  Kyros studied the parchment. “Very good. Keep at it.”

  “I shall, my lord.”

  Silence stretched as he studied the parchment further and she stared at his features, his handsome face seeming barely five and thirty yet being well into his fifties. As the silence continued, she began to shift in her seat, clearly wanting to ask a question. “My lord…”

  “Kyros.”

  “Yes, my lord Kyros. Is your family quite wealthy?”

  He glanced up at her. “Taking another question when you still owe me one? Very well. The Wisdomseekers are quite an old and wealthy family, yes. We have modest wealth compared to others but, on the whole, I have a great deal of land and tenants to care for so I still hold an important enough position in the United Houses. I sit on the council.”

  “Really? I should like to hear more.”

  He handed her back her parchment. “And you will. Your handwriting is very fine by the way. You still owe me a question.”

  “Ask, lord Kyros.”

  “Do you think you will ever add more beads to your necklace?”

  “I don’t know…each is to represent something important in my life.”

  “It has been twelve years and still you can think of nothing important enough to warrant a bead? That seems very sad.”

  “Yes…well, I will think about it.”

  “Do,” he said, smiling. “I should like to see the beads keep growing. They are one of the few I have seen used for a good purpose.”

  He glanced back down at his scroll as she blushed and looked back to hers. He cleared his throat. “Now…who’s turn is it for a question?”

  *

  In the darkness, the Demon found what he was looking for. A lone rider, making their way from the town and toward the secret encampment within the gorge. He had spotted the camp of rebels the night before but had left them alone. There were enough to cause a commotion if he should attack. But a single rider would be no trouble.

  The Demon slipped quietly through the darkness, to the top of a ravine. The rider made his way down a steep embankment of loose dirt, almost causing his horse to stumble and fall. The figure in the tattered clothes readied himself, standing tall and pulling his arm back. His hand shot out as the horse and rider galloped past his position.

  A snapping of energy, a bright illumination of red light, and his orb extended into a long whip that lashed down and circled the man, pinning his arms to his side. The Demon pulled up and his whip retracted, yanking the man from his saddle. He was lifted into the air until he lay sprawled at his capturer's feet. The Demon leaned low and hissed, “Speak softly or end your life now.”

  The man whimpered but fell silent as the energy pulsed and burned him, causing him to groan. The Demon continued, “Listen carefully, there is an Athelward Sanctum within. Do you work for them?”

  “No. Augh!” the man replied, crying out in pain.

  “This theft of livestock, it isn’t for them? They aren’t working with your people?”

  “We have no Athelward,” said the man, “I don’t even know what one is. You aren’t- augh!”

  He cried out again as the energy sank into his flesh a fraction more. “Lies earn you death. I know you work with Athelward. I seek one in particular. Tell me of the Keeper. Have you heard of such a one?”

  The man no longer cooperated as a set of pounding hooves could be heard in the dark. “Help! Somebody hel-”

  The man’s cries were cut off as the rope around him sank all the way through and sliced his body in half. The two charred ends of him fell away and the Demon kicked his body into the gorge below and jumped down, softening the landing with a pulse of energy that lowered him gently to the earth.

  He stood there, unmoving, as he listened. A band of horsemen rode on from above, the rebels from their camp, the entire dozen. They could not see him in the dark as he melded with the shadows. When they were gone, he kicked at the corpse. The raptors would dispose of his body. No matter.

  He would find what he was looking for.