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Sins of a Dark Age: The Waste

Chapter 1: By All My Work Remembered

The Waste lived up to its name.

No. Not lived, Lavalu reflected. Nothing lived out there. Men might travel through the Waste, criminals might have been sent out to die in it, but the Waste held no life for long. Only the sub-bleached bones of the dead. Some made it through. Some didn't. And for those who did make it across, their throats parched, their skin burnt, the Inn of Shining Sand was their first point of call.

"What do you see?"

Lavalu remained standing under the arch of the doorway, her shawl keeping the sand out of her eyes. Majed had chosen his site well. Just as the mosque had nearby, its imam quite willing to journey into the Waste to bless the souls of the departed. For the right price of course.

"Lavalu! Ch'nu ra'a?!"

"One man," the serving girl whispered. "On a camel."

"And that is all?"

"His serving boy is dead."

The innkeeper looked at her. "How do you know?"

"What man of his size travels alone?" she asked, looking at her employer. "He lost someone. I can sense it."

Majed patted her on the shoulder. "Ah. Well, God willing, we may yet help the living."

You mean me.

"And God willing, he may yet help us."

Lavalu knew that twinkle in the innkeep's eyes. A silver twinkle. The type of silver that was always in anticipation of receiving gold.

And knowing the process behind it, she stepped out onto the sand to greet the traveller. Sand that was golden also. The boundary between the inhospitable land of the Dune Sea, and the hellscape that was the Waste.

Golden sand from a sun-baked land. Brown man bringing golden coins. Silver eye for it all.

Lavalu shook it off and threw on a smile as the traveller came near.

She knew that at the end of the day, she could only hope to see coppers.

"Majed, gracious host. What is your fine establishment offering for a midday meal?"

"You can have a tagine of jellied elvers for a mere six coppers," Majed replied.

"Bring it in," said Aram, patting his expansive stomach. I am in haste today. A new caravanserai is arriving in Calan from the far east. Who knows what wondrous items they will bring? What I may buy, and again sell? Or keep, even?"

Lavalu, currently in the midst of wiping some spilled labneh off one of the wooden tables, tried not to. Imagination was fine during the night. In the day, it was a distraction. Of the kind she couldn't afford, both figuratively and literally. And yet, as Majed talked to the one called Aram, an old friend as far as she could tell, she found herself failing to keep her dreams in check. Even as she went to fetch the merchant's meal.

"I know you only too well, my friend. It is not mere curiosity that drives you to meet every trader the instant they reach the bazaar of the capital. You want first choice on any bargains they bring,"

Majed smiled. And coming back with the meal, Lavalu saw it. Though her mind was elsewhere, and barely comprehended the motion.

Perfumes from Calan. Dresses from Folsom. Maybe even-

"Tis true that I seek a profit, but only so that I can learn of the many marvels of this world. I, for one, don't intend to waste the hours that God has given us in this life," the merchant declared.

How many lifetimes would it take me to smell like an angel? Or to dress like Princess Shiane?

"In that case," said Majed, "try not to give yourself indigestion. Here comes my serving girl with your dish."

God almighty, if only I could-

"I said," repeated Majed, louder than before, "here comes my serving girl with your dish."

One dress. One bottle. If only-

"Lavalu!"

Lavalu let out a yelp. A plate of unfinished humnus fell onto the ground, along with the stone plate itself. Laughter rippled throughout the inn. And Aram looked at her with silver in his eye. The type of silver that led not to gold, but a shiver down one's spine.

"Idiot girl!" Majed exclaimed, slapping her over the head. "You'll pay for your clumsiness!"

Lavalu nodded, kneeling down to retrieve the food and cutlery. Paying meant just that – paying. Lessened pay for the day's work at best, extra chores in addition to that if Majed was feeling particularly vindictive. But that wasn't what scared her. It was rather the way that Aram was looking at her. The way he patted his stomach. The way he moved his hand down to a part of his body below said stomach. The way he licked his lips.

"Alas, I hunger," he said. "Must I wait longer for my humble meal?"

Lavalu bowed quickly. "I'm…terribly sorry, great merchant. Forgive my clumsiness."

"Clumsiness will cost you dearly," Aram said, getting to his feet. Most recently I have lost a servant in the Waste to such a shortcoming." He put a hand on her shoulder. Lavalu winced – not because of the strength of his grip, but the smell of his breath. "Poor boy, his body lies there still."

"And did you help him?" Lavalu blurted out. "Or let him die?"

"Lavalu!" Majed snapped. He clasped his hands together before smiling at his customer. "Pay her no mind, my friend. She is young and stupid."

"And yet, my mind is not at ease," Aram said, keeping his hand on Lavalu's shoulder while he walked around. "My meal is denied. A servant has been lost in such ill fortuitous circumstances. How could I possibly find a way to put my mind at rest? Or share my great fortune with those willing to provide?"

Lavalu looked around the inn. People were talking, laughing, drinking…a few glanced at her. All looked away a second later. In desperation, she turned to Majed, but she found no salvation there. Only the one willing to help her through the gates of Hell.

"Perhaps," Majed said slowly, "we can arrange something."

"No," Lavalu whispered. "I…I dropped a plate. I can work. I can-"

"Let me not be a hard master!" Majed exclaimed, putting a hand on Lavalu's shoulder, mirroring Aram. "No pay taken from you, my dear! No extra chores. Only…an extra job."

"You…" She trailed off. She wanted to say, "you can't." But he could. Not legally at least, the Empire had rules against this sort of thing, but no means to prevent Majed from dismissing her on a whim. And that was what would happen if she refused.

She watched as a small bag went between the two men's hands, clinking with the type of music only coin could bring. She listened as Aram said he would stay for the night. She saw Khaleesh be called over, instructed to prepare a room for the night. And she watched as Majed glanced over at her. Daring her to resist. Nodding a head to get her back to the kitchen. To bring Aram another meal. An appetizer, as it had just become.

God help me.

He wouldn't, she knew. He never answered the prayers of His faithful, in her experience. So lowering her gaze, she turned and did her bidding. Glancing at the setting sun through one of the inn's windows.

Shivering, as she thought on what the night would bring.

A/N

This story started off as a joke, sort of. Basically, it was a case of someone in my writing group writing a bare-bones story, little more than the conversation between Majed and Aram, which is taken nearly verbatim. I and another member of the group did rewrites, fleshing out on the sequence, kind of a "how the other half lives" exercise as with the final results, it showed our how different our writing styles were, and still are. In my case, I ended up expanding it to a short story, placing it in the Sins of a Dark Age setting. Don't know if the game itself will ever see the light of day, but hey, at least this story did.

Should warn readers ahead of time that the story is rated "M" for a reason due to sexual content. Nothing graphic, but I felt the implications of what isn't seen were enough to give this an "M" rating. Consider yourselves warned.

Update (06/07/2014): Made adjustments.