Disclaimer: I don't own LoK.
Thanks to all who have reviewed! And by popular request, the continuation of:
To Find My Way Home
Chapter Eight
Three weeks. That's how long I've been trapped within Rahab's flooded sanctuary. Against my will, I have been held here as prisoner, slave, and (strangely) tutor to the forth-born son of Kain.
Upon my arrival, Rahab has treated me with a trace more respect than I witnessed him giving any other human he has contact with. My first few days as a newcomer, I've watched the Rahabim unleash cruel beatings as punishment for those who so much as look at them the wrong way. Fortunately, I have managed to avoid such treatment. I often wonder if this is due to a sort of preferential treatment Rahab has befitted upon me.
I don't let this thought go to my head, however, for I am forced into manual labor like the rest of the humans inhabiting this hellhole. My days start early, as I am to join the other women in preparation for the morning meals, warming up the most unappetizing gruel for the slaves. How lucky for us that it's even served warm.
Afterwards, when the men are out gathering wood, or building monuments for the vampire 'gods', the women stay behind to clean the dishes and wash garments. Beautiful plates and goblets of silver donned with priceless gems and garments of the softest silk have crossed my hands during these past weeks. These, of course, belong to our 'lords', the vampires. We must wash these first before we can tend to the slaves 'belongings'.
Compared to the glamorous possessions owned by our oppressors, the plates of tin we eat off of, and wool rags we are left to wear are quite depressing. I don't know how the slaves can endure a lifetime of this treatment. It makes me wonder how slavery ever existed in my own world's history.
After the afternoon meal of more disgusting slop, the women are ordered to sew new clothing for the vampires, and the men return to their backbreaking chores. Cooking and cleaning I was able to handle from the start, but I had never so much as threaded a needle until this point in time. I was horribly clumsy with the needle at first, but I've somehow caught on, though I'm still much slower than the rest of the women.
As dusk falls, the vampires rise from their slumber. I have come to learn, that of all Kain's sons, only Rahab has been unable to grow any tolerance to the sun's harmful rays. Not that there is ever a clear sky anymore. When I've been able to venture outside, I've noticed that the sky always seems blanketed in a foreboding cover of clouds.
Although the entire populace of the Rahabim slumbers during the daylight hours, we humans are not left without supervision. And it seems humans are not the only objects of slavery in this world. It seems that the vampires have taken privy to enslaving fledges of other clans. Everyday, Zephonim and Melchiahim fledglings supervise over the human horde. And although these fledges rule over us, the Rahabim rule over them, treating them almost as badly as they treat their human slaves.
Despite the way they are treated, the enslaved vampires do not try to rebel, or even try to escape for that matter. I don't know if it's because they are too weak, too afraid, or are just too stupid to do so. I've barely pondered this question, for I really don't care either way. They may be slaves like I am, but they are still bloodthirsty murderers like the rest of the vampires.
When the Rahabim rise from their rests, the vampire slaves are relieved of their duties, as are the majority of human slaves. Where all the slaves go after nightfall, I don't know. For the past three weeks, I have been taken to Rahab's study, where every night I am ordered to tell Rahab more about my world's culture, history, technology, or any other tidbit of knowledge he should request.
Rahab's study is more like a library. Every wall is adorned with books, old and new, neatly filed upon shelves, which stretch from floor to ceiling, wall to wall. A solitary oak table stands in the center of the room with two oak chairs accompanying it, one on either side. A lantern usually rests on the table, off to one side, to provide a little light in the dark room during the night hours.
The study has a musty smell to it, like that of an old library basement. The smell of mildew clogs the air. The damp air within the stronghold only makes the smell worse, and is probably the cause for all the mildew. Even though the study is on the third floor, the flooded first floor causes a dampness to permeate through the entire building. It's no wonder many of the slaves are in poor health.
Every night, I sit in this musty environment, conversing with Rahab. As a sort of 'reward' for my obedience, he has periodically returned to me some of my belongings. It is a sort of 'trade-off' we have become accustomed to. I tell him what he wants; he gives me some of my stuff back.
I haven't a clue how much from my car Rahab has pillaged, although I do know he hasn't been able to bring my car itself to his sanctuary. I guess he hasn't been able to figure out how to turn off the parking brakes yet. I imagine he will eventually order me to assist his men on transporting it here when he chooses to learn more about it.
For now, I have been able to preoccupy Rahab with my knowledge of my world's history. Like most men, he finds more interest in past wars. I did fairly well in history class in school, but it's been four years since I graduated high school, five years since I've taken any history courses, so my memory isn't 100% faithful to me, and my knowledge is scant in some areas. I can tell Rahab isn't pleased with the obvious gaps of information, but he has thus far made no motion to punish me for my faults.
Of my items that have been returned to me, I have received two sets of clothes, my tent, a cooler half-filled with now-rotted/stale food, and my cell phone. Most of these items are of no use to me in my current predicament. I can only hope that Rahab returns to me something more useful in the future.
Said vampire usually keeps me awake, telling him what I can until my eyes are too heavy to keep open. Only when I can no longer speak cognitive sentences, does he permit me to retire for the evening. Or what's left of it. After the 'study session', I usually only get about five hours of sleep. Six hours if I'm lucky. After that, my day starts all over again. The only good thing to this entire situation is that Turel had departed for his realm two days after my arrival here in Rahab's clan lands.
The long days are really beginning to take their toll on me. I try to suppress a yawn between stitches on the dress I'm attempting to make. I've been ordered to create a simple evening gown for a vampiress made of midnight blue velvet. I'm struggling to keep my eyes open, let alone not stabbing myself with the needle. Should I get so much as a drop of blood on the cloth, I shall be ordered to start anew.
I try to stifle another yawn, but it escapes my lips despite my efforts. The Zephonim seamstress overlooking us does not hear me, but one of the slaves nearby does.
"Whatever is the matter?" she asks bitterly. "Is the mundane tasks of commoners too much of a bore for you?"
I look over in her direction and I recognize her as another newcomer here. In actuality, she has been here fewer days than I have. If I recall correctly, she has only been here about four days. She stares at me, demanding an answer.
"What are you talking about?" I inquire.
"Oh, forgive me for my rudeness, milady," she replies sarcastically. "My 'concerns' for your well-being seems to be distracting you from your concentration. It would be dreadful if you should miss a stitch."
"What's your problem? I didn't do anything to you!"
The girl, who seems to be about my age, glowers at my remark. Looking at her, she seems to have been from a poverty stricken family.
"Oh, of course you didn't do anything to me!" she sneers. "Tis the common reply from nobility towards one such as myself! You nobles never seem to see anything past your upturned noses! I am not surprised that you recall nothing about me!"
"I think you've mistaken me for someone else..."
"Oh! But who could mistake the beautiful Lady Danielle! Daughter to Governor Harold Wesley!"
Oh, great! I thought I had escaped that chapter of my ordeal. Looks like my similarities to my alter persona were going to haunt me until I found some way home. I tried to ignore this girl, but this only made her angrier...and louder.
"Whatever is the matter, Lady Danielle? Am I not worthy enough for you to take audience with me? Or are you feeling guilt for what you and your father has done to my family and I?"
I snapped my head in her direction, quite annoyed at this point with her allegations. "If I remembered ever having wronged you, then perhaps I would have feelings of guilt about it, were it not for your rude and inconsiderate behavior towards me!" There! If she was going to treat me and believe me to be 'Danielle', then I ought to play the part. "However, I have carried out no ill transgressions towards you or your kin. So, I shall ask kindly of you to shut up!"
This girl was furious. So furious she almost couldn't speak. Unfortunately, she got enough of her rage under control to regain her ability to speak. "How dare you! How could you deny your wrongdoings! If not for your father's scandalizing, my father would be governor of the citadel and my family would not be living in squalor this very moment!"
Something about this accusation struck a cord of familiarity. I studied this girl hard for a moment, temporarily forgetting our little squabble. Beneath the dirty face and the matted down hair, a familiar face rose to the surface. I gasped. "Liz Shoemaker?"
'Liz' glared at me. "Elizabeth. Not 'Liz'. Though I'm surprised you even remembered my surname. So you DO recall what your family has done to mine!"
I wasn't completely sure what had happened in this world, though I wondered if it mirrored what had happened in mine. When my dad was running for governor of our hometown, his opponent happened to be James Shoemaker, Liz's father. I don't know what exactly happened, but Mr. Shoemaker was suspected of laundering money to fund his campaign, and he withdrew from the running. Why he would go through such lengths for such a small position is beyond me.
"I'm sure whatever happened, your father deserved it," I bluntly responded to Elizabeth.
"My father did not deserve to be charged and sentenced with vampire allegiance! Because of your father, mine was murdered in cold blood! Just so your father could become governor of the citadel! Since then, my family has been cast into the poorest class, and even THEY do not welcome us there because of your father's accusations!"
I was shocked. Whether or not her account of the facts was true, I was still horrified that people could turn on one another so easily and without second thought. Especially in this world where people needed to stick together against the vampire race.
"If- if it accounts for anything..." I muttered solemnly, "I'm sorry about your father. I- I had no idea..."
Now it was Elizabeth's turn to look shocked. "I- I didn't ever expect to hear an apology from you..." she admitted. Noticing my sincerity, she added, "You- you really didn't know, did you?"
Before I could say a word, a loud 'SMACK' echoed through the air and an expression of horrid pain etched itself onto Elizabeth's face. Behind her stood the Zephonim seamstress with a leather switch posed to strike again. Elizabeth tried desperately to fight back the tears as she quickly and quietly returned to her stitching.
"Be that a warning to all of you! Slackers shall be dealt with harshly!" the vampiress lectured, giving me a hard glare. I returned to my own work as well, lest I wish to receive the same punishment. Not a single word was uttered for the remainder of the afternoon, until we were dismissed for the evening 'meal'.
Thanks to all who have reviewed! And by popular request, the continuation of:
To Find My Way Home
Chapter Eight
Three weeks. That's how long I've been trapped within Rahab's flooded sanctuary. Against my will, I have been held here as prisoner, slave, and (strangely) tutor to the forth-born son of Kain.
Upon my arrival, Rahab has treated me with a trace more respect than I witnessed him giving any other human he has contact with. My first few days as a newcomer, I've watched the Rahabim unleash cruel beatings as punishment for those who so much as look at them the wrong way. Fortunately, I have managed to avoid such treatment. I often wonder if this is due to a sort of preferential treatment Rahab has befitted upon me.
I don't let this thought go to my head, however, for I am forced into manual labor like the rest of the humans inhabiting this hellhole. My days start early, as I am to join the other women in preparation for the morning meals, warming up the most unappetizing gruel for the slaves. How lucky for us that it's even served warm.
Afterwards, when the men are out gathering wood, or building monuments for the vampire 'gods', the women stay behind to clean the dishes and wash garments. Beautiful plates and goblets of silver donned with priceless gems and garments of the softest silk have crossed my hands during these past weeks. These, of course, belong to our 'lords', the vampires. We must wash these first before we can tend to the slaves 'belongings'.
Compared to the glamorous possessions owned by our oppressors, the plates of tin we eat off of, and wool rags we are left to wear are quite depressing. I don't know how the slaves can endure a lifetime of this treatment. It makes me wonder how slavery ever existed in my own world's history.
After the afternoon meal of more disgusting slop, the women are ordered to sew new clothing for the vampires, and the men return to their backbreaking chores. Cooking and cleaning I was able to handle from the start, but I had never so much as threaded a needle until this point in time. I was horribly clumsy with the needle at first, but I've somehow caught on, though I'm still much slower than the rest of the women.
As dusk falls, the vampires rise from their slumber. I have come to learn, that of all Kain's sons, only Rahab has been unable to grow any tolerance to the sun's harmful rays. Not that there is ever a clear sky anymore. When I've been able to venture outside, I've noticed that the sky always seems blanketed in a foreboding cover of clouds.
Although the entire populace of the Rahabim slumbers during the daylight hours, we humans are not left without supervision. And it seems humans are not the only objects of slavery in this world. It seems that the vampires have taken privy to enslaving fledges of other clans. Everyday, Zephonim and Melchiahim fledglings supervise over the human horde. And although these fledges rule over us, the Rahabim rule over them, treating them almost as badly as they treat their human slaves.
Despite the way they are treated, the enslaved vampires do not try to rebel, or even try to escape for that matter. I don't know if it's because they are too weak, too afraid, or are just too stupid to do so. I've barely pondered this question, for I really don't care either way. They may be slaves like I am, but they are still bloodthirsty murderers like the rest of the vampires.
When the Rahabim rise from their rests, the vampire slaves are relieved of their duties, as are the majority of human slaves. Where all the slaves go after nightfall, I don't know. For the past three weeks, I have been taken to Rahab's study, where every night I am ordered to tell Rahab more about my world's culture, history, technology, or any other tidbit of knowledge he should request.
Rahab's study is more like a library. Every wall is adorned with books, old and new, neatly filed upon shelves, which stretch from floor to ceiling, wall to wall. A solitary oak table stands in the center of the room with two oak chairs accompanying it, one on either side. A lantern usually rests on the table, off to one side, to provide a little light in the dark room during the night hours.
The study has a musty smell to it, like that of an old library basement. The smell of mildew clogs the air. The damp air within the stronghold only makes the smell worse, and is probably the cause for all the mildew. Even though the study is on the third floor, the flooded first floor causes a dampness to permeate through the entire building. It's no wonder many of the slaves are in poor health.
Every night, I sit in this musty environment, conversing with Rahab. As a sort of 'reward' for my obedience, he has periodically returned to me some of my belongings. It is a sort of 'trade-off' we have become accustomed to. I tell him what he wants; he gives me some of my stuff back.
I haven't a clue how much from my car Rahab has pillaged, although I do know he hasn't been able to bring my car itself to his sanctuary. I guess he hasn't been able to figure out how to turn off the parking brakes yet. I imagine he will eventually order me to assist his men on transporting it here when he chooses to learn more about it.
For now, I have been able to preoccupy Rahab with my knowledge of my world's history. Like most men, he finds more interest in past wars. I did fairly well in history class in school, but it's been four years since I graduated high school, five years since I've taken any history courses, so my memory isn't 100% faithful to me, and my knowledge is scant in some areas. I can tell Rahab isn't pleased with the obvious gaps of information, but he has thus far made no motion to punish me for my faults.
Of my items that have been returned to me, I have received two sets of clothes, my tent, a cooler half-filled with now-rotted/stale food, and my cell phone. Most of these items are of no use to me in my current predicament. I can only hope that Rahab returns to me something more useful in the future.
Said vampire usually keeps me awake, telling him what I can until my eyes are too heavy to keep open. Only when I can no longer speak cognitive sentences, does he permit me to retire for the evening. Or what's left of it. After the 'study session', I usually only get about five hours of sleep. Six hours if I'm lucky. After that, my day starts all over again. The only good thing to this entire situation is that Turel had departed for his realm two days after my arrival here in Rahab's clan lands.
The long days are really beginning to take their toll on me. I try to suppress a yawn between stitches on the dress I'm attempting to make. I've been ordered to create a simple evening gown for a vampiress made of midnight blue velvet. I'm struggling to keep my eyes open, let alone not stabbing myself with the needle. Should I get so much as a drop of blood on the cloth, I shall be ordered to start anew.
I try to stifle another yawn, but it escapes my lips despite my efforts. The Zephonim seamstress overlooking us does not hear me, but one of the slaves nearby does.
"Whatever is the matter?" she asks bitterly. "Is the mundane tasks of commoners too much of a bore for you?"
I look over in her direction and I recognize her as another newcomer here. In actuality, she has been here fewer days than I have. If I recall correctly, she has only been here about four days. She stares at me, demanding an answer.
"What are you talking about?" I inquire.
"Oh, forgive me for my rudeness, milady," she replies sarcastically. "My 'concerns' for your well-being seems to be distracting you from your concentration. It would be dreadful if you should miss a stitch."
"What's your problem? I didn't do anything to you!"
The girl, who seems to be about my age, glowers at my remark. Looking at her, she seems to have been from a poverty stricken family.
"Oh, of course you didn't do anything to me!" she sneers. "Tis the common reply from nobility towards one such as myself! You nobles never seem to see anything past your upturned noses! I am not surprised that you recall nothing about me!"
"I think you've mistaken me for someone else..."
"Oh! But who could mistake the beautiful Lady Danielle! Daughter to Governor Harold Wesley!"
Oh, great! I thought I had escaped that chapter of my ordeal. Looks like my similarities to my alter persona were going to haunt me until I found some way home. I tried to ignore this girl, but this only made her angrier...and louder.
"Whatever is the matter, Lady Danielle? Am I not worthy enough for you to take audience with me? Or are you feeling guilt for what you and your father has done to my family and I?"
I snapped my head in her direction, quite annoyed at this point with her allegations. "If I remembered ever having wronged you, then perhaps I would have feelings of guilt about it, were it not for your rude and inconsiderate behavior towards me!" There! If she was going to treat me and believe me to be 'Danielle', then I ought to play the part. "However, I have carried out no ill transgressions towards you or your kin. So, I shall ask kindly of you to shut up!"
This girl was furious. So furious she almost couldn't speak. Unfortunately, she got enough of her rage under control to regain her ability to speak. "How dare you! How could you deny your wrongdoings! If not for your father's scandalizing, my father would be governor of the citadel and my family would not be living in squalor this very moment!"
Something about this accusation struck a cord of familiarity. I studied this girl hard for a moment, temporarily forgetting our little squabble. Beneath the dirty face and the matted down hair, a familiar face rose to the surface. I gasped. "Liz Shoemaker?"
'Liz' glared at me. "Elizabeth. Not 'Liz'. Though I'm surprised you even remembered my surname. So you DO recall what your family has done to mine!"
I wasn't completely sure what had happened in this world, though I wondered if it mirrored what had happened in mine. When my dad was running for governor of our hometown, his opponent happened to be James Shoemaker, Liz's father. I don't know what exactly happened, but Mr. Shoemaker was suspected of laundering money to fund his campaign, and he withdrew from the running. Why he would go through such lengths for such a small position is beyond me.
"I'm sure whatever happened, your father deserved it," I bluntly responded to Elizabeth.
"My father did not deserve to be charged and sentenced with vampire allegiance! Because of your father, mine was murdered in cold blood! Just so your father could become governor of the citadel! Since then, my family has been cast into the poorest class, and even THEY do not welcome us there because of your father's accusations!"
I was shocked. Whether or not her account of the facts was true, I was still horrified that people could turn on one another so easily and without second thought. Especially in this world where people needed to stick together against the vampire race.
"If- if it accounts for anything..." I muttered solemnly, "I'm sorry about your father. I- I had no idea..."
Now it was Elizabeth's turn to look shocked. "I- I didn't ever expect to hear an apology from you..." she admitted. Noticing my sincerity, she added, "You- you really didn't know, did you?"
Before I could say a word, a loud 'SMACK' echoed through the air and an expression of horrid pain etched itself onto Elizabeth's face. Behind her stood the Zephonim seamstress with a leather switch posed to strike again. Elizabeth tried desperately to fight back the tears as she quickly and quietly returned to her stitching.
"Be that a warning to all of you! Slackers shall be dealt with harshly!" the vampiress lectured, giving me a hard glare. I returned to my own work as well, lest I wish to receive the same punishment. Not a single word was uttered for the remainder of the afternoon, until we were dismissed for the evening 'meal'.
