And Who? [Authors Note: Chapter 7! Yeah! With ff.net being down, I naturally thought uploading was too, not so! All you lucky people on author alert can still read them! ^_^

The reason I've done a whole chapter on Ioka, is because I myself, and maybe a few of you, are curious about the slaves background, his family life, what's inside his head. Now, no worries! The next chapter has our favorite couple back in the spot-light, I just felt a need to give Ioka a little history. Thanks for bearing with me yall! I'll start working on Chapter 8 pronto-like.

Also, I'm thinking of wrapping this up soon...gonna be awhile yet, I have a feeling, haha, so don't worry. I hope yall are really enjoying this, and I would LOVE to hear anything yall find wrong, etc. Thanks to all those reviewers who said I wrote like Tamora Pierce. That is a high compliment, Mrs. Pierce is a tremendously talented writer. Though I in no way think I am in her league, at least not yet, ^_^.

Oh, and LOL at the people who commented on Numair snoring, just a little thing I picked up in Wolf-Speaker. Remember when Daine was just learning to go into animals? She heard him snore then, ^_~. Thanks again guys for your support, it means so much!]

**Disclaimer - Numair, Daine, Alanna, King Jon, and all the other characters EXCEPT my cutie patootie Ioka, ::squeezes him tight:: and Imart, Laza, and Zuala, are Tamora Pierces. Also the wonderful land of Tortall and surrounding world. I have no claim to them! Just like borrowin 'em, ^_~

Email: Mstryhrs02@aol.com
Website: http://frontpage.tripod.com/britnieann
Archives: If you'd like to add my ongoing story, please just ask and you shall receive!]

On we go...]

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And Who?

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Ioka Zagya picked up his earthen-made plate. He silently placed it in the wooden bucket that served as a washing basin for the little dwelling of his brother, and his sister by marriage. There were no gold gilded plates for this meal.

Ioka had lived with his brother for years now, who were servants, not slaves, and worked in the fields of the Emperor Kaddar. Imart and Laza Zagya were allowed to marry, allowed children and their own homes. They were paid for their service. Ioka was not... And yet, because he was favored in the eyes of the emperor, he had been permitted to live with his family instead of the small rooms filled with many bodies on hard floors. For this he was very grateful. Ioka would have been a servant too, if it had not been for his parents selling him into slavery when he was very young. The family had needed food, the emperor more slaves; thus his current position.

"Baba," he heard a voice whisper softly behind his back, and he almost smiled. "Chache mpwa, why are you not asleep?" he picked up the little girl and laid her back down on her brightly woven sleeping pallet. Ioka had come in later than usual that night, the emperor had needed his assistance far into the evening. Imart and Laza were both sleeping, as was the small black haired baby who rested between his weary parents.

But obviously one little girl was not.

"You are too noisy, baba." the little girl said in Common, and using the word for 'uncle' in the tounge of the Carthaki people.

Ioka smirked. His little niece knew full well he could be as quiet as a soft desert wind if needed. And it was needed to keep his brother's wife pleased with him. "Sleep, mpwa. You have a long, hot day ahead of you. Is not tomorrow market day?" The little girl's dark eyes widened in excitement. "Eewaa, baba! I will bring you back something! What do you want? A fig? Orange?"

"An orange will do fine, Zuala. Thank you. Now, sleep." The girl nodded and closed her eyes tightly, willing sleep to take her as only children could.

Ioka opened the window board as wide as possible before going to his own pallet on the other side of the large one room hut. Imart and Laza's room was sectioned off with a vividly patterned tapestry of reds, blues, and oranges. It was pulled back slightly as it was every night. Imart liked to be able to keep an eye on all around him. Ioka admired that trait in his younger brother, and practiced it himself.

He had had to do so this morning. Certainly he had been treading the thin line between sand and quicksand... Talking to foreigners so extensively could cause any number of troubles with nobles and those placed over slaves. Ioka's lip curled involuntarily, yet he willed his face smooth again. True, slavery was not his choice, of course he would rather have a position like-to his brothers. Serving his emperor, by choice. Able to have a small hut to call his own, a family... Ioka shook his head at that. Visions of screaming babies and tag-along toddlers assaulted him. No, he was not ready for a family quite yet. And yet, he knew it was a very unlikely thing for him to be relapsed from slavery, and made a servant. Ioka had of course noticed the changes that had begun ever since Emperor Kaddar had taken the throne...but slaves had been a part of Carthak a very long time, Ioka could not see the end.

His thoughts took a slightly different turn as he remembered the conversation of that morning. The mage, he had seemed interesting, if not more than a bit antagonizing. And the woman...he did not know about the woman. The woman with the wide gray eyes of the rainy season clouds. She had caught him off guard a number of times.

Ioka had thought of one thing the Master Salmalin had said to him all day as he went about following the emperor wherever his masters high station took him. Today had been made up of much research on tigers and those within captivity in Carthak lands, while the two Tortallan guests were resting. The emperor seemed worried about something. He had taken exquisite detail on much, bringing on the late hours.

"The university, you enjoyed it? I know they do not allow slaves there, thus you must have gone as any other person; free."

The dark slave turned his head and shut his eyes tightly. The man was right. He had enjoyed it. It was the highest point of his life hence far, even more so than becoming the emperors trusted personal slave. Of course, the slaves had been very closely watched. Most had been servants, not slaves at all, but it had still been unlike anything on the other side of the river.

And the books, so many! He had spent hours cross-legged on the floor of the great library, trying to memorize every jot, every diddle of any work that had interested him. Markedly, those on animals and animal magic. Wild magic, he reminded himself silently, eyes darting quickly to the side at the sound of a body stirring. It was naught but little Zuala turning on her side.

Wild magic. Did this have any bearing to him? Why had he felt it was so important for him to seek information on such a subject? He had never realized any unusual bond with animals...and magic? He was fairly certain he had no Gift, nothing that could be related to such a thing.

He had heard the Lady Veralidaine had this magic. She was said to be The Wildmage. Nearly everyone in Carthak knew of her destruction of the palace, and of her role in the great Immortals war and death of the former Emperor Ozorne.

She was so very strange... The palace servants and slaves were alive with talk of her. Many feared, most were angry. She had, after all, destroyed much of what they had loved and called home, and many had not made it out alive. All for one man, whom she had thought was not even living.

Ioka had been sensible and realistic, saying it had been the gods-cursed Ozorne, not this woman's fault, but they would have none of it. The people were strong and vehement in their opinions when they actually chose them. Of course, none dared show these to anyone of importance.

Ioka scratched a bug bite on his neck absently, opening the window wider had let in more than the cool night air. He shifted to become comfortable and slipped off into thoughtless sleep. It was too late to be mulling over thoughts and questions that had no answers. Tomorrow would be a long, hot day for him as well. Tiger hunting.

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[A/N: Wow, I never do a post story note, ahah, anyway for any who are wondering about the 'Carthak tongue', those are actually words from the Swahili language. Here is a disclaimer right here for that! I am not claiming that is the Carthak language for real, (there is no such thing as Carthak, rofl) just thought it fit for Carthakians. And I am not saying I thought that language up. Okay? Okay. (I like to thoroughly cover my hiney)

Also, I based a lot of Ioka's lifestyle and family on Egyptian slave/servant standards, since I believe Carthak and it are very similar.

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