Chapter 2

Underneath her fierce exterior, Aoife Tarkeehena was in all reality very kind-hearted and very easily put down. Growing up in a house full of people so prejudiced to her particular ethnic origin, she had faced insults and jeers constantly, and while she persuaded herself time and time again to not listen to them, many of them hit home. To say Aoife had a rough childhood would be an understatement. Not so much that she wasn't given every comfort she would need, but because, except for a few distant memories of her mother, she had never known anyone to love her. They all, especially her sisters, hated her. They hated her long, golden hair, her creamy porcelain skin, all the way to her deep blue eyes. They made her life a living hell, jeering and nagging her at every available moment. No, no one had ever loved her, and she had loved nobody, save her mother.

Well, maybe that's not entirely true.

She was in love. The object of her affections was Pericles, Captain of Suruv's guard. His father, Pelan Tarkaan, had been ambassador to Narnia and Archenland in his younger days, and had taken both his sons with him on various trips. Consequently, his sons picked up many traits that were despised by Calormenes and considered normal by Narnians. They were jovial and laid back, enjoyed a good war story now and then, and despised everything about Calormen. When they were staying in Calormen, Suruv, always the suck up, would invite Pelan and his boys to great parties, and it was here that Pericles and Aoife formed a friendship. He told her stories of Narnia and all that he had learned there, and she told him of the injustices she had to face even as a young girl, which aroused the sympathy of the young boy.

Eventually, when Pericles was an adolescent, the family fell onto hard times. His eldest brother, Cyrus, was drafted into the war against the rebels in the west, and died a month after he was drafted. Pelan, devastated with grief, reprimanded publicly the Tisroc and claiming it was the Tisroc's greed that started the rebellion and brought the downfall of his son. Of course, no one in Calormen is allowed to talk to and about the Tisroc like that, and Pelan was stripped of his titles and hung for being a traitor. Which left young Pericles with no family, no home, nothing to call his own. Suruv took advantage of the young boy's limited options, put him through military school, and made him Captain of his guards, not out of the goodness of his heart, but so he could snub Pericles, be mean to a young man with limited or no options in his life. As much as she hated Suruv all the more for bullying her friend, she was glad she was able to see him nearly everyday.

She wished he could protect her from the ordeal to come. Shameth, besides being gloriously rich, was also unbearably haughty, and while he cast a few cheesily-worded compliments her way, most of the talk during the course of the evening would consist of himself. Suruv, always the suck up, would pretend to not pay any mind, and would hang on Shameth's every word. She sighed as she slipped into the gown prepared for her, stifling and, she thought, a little revealing. Her hair was next, and then, she was ready for the unpleasant night ahead of her.

En route to the banqueting hall, she came upon Pericles, in the midst of his duties. At the moment, he was dispatching two or three troops to the doorway, and a few more to various places. They were all dressed in finery, clothes that made them all look quite horrible. As the last of his comrades left, he looked her way, and immediately broke into a wide smile that had always been famous for weakening her knees.

"There you are! His lordship," he said the last with contempt, but only when they were alone, "was just about to send me to get you. You look beautiful, as always."

Men usually told her she was beautiful, even through all the other insults, but the only ones she took to heart were his.

"You're looking distinguished yourself, and almost as uncomfortable as I," she replied, eliciting a laugh from her friend.

"Indeed. But I'm sure you will receive more compliments than I."

"Will I see you there tonight?" she asked hopefully.

"Nay, I'll be checking around, making sure everyone is safe. And making sure that confounded slave hasn't escaped again..."

"Oh, has he tried to escape already?"

"Yes, my lady. Twice now. He's shackled in his hut but I don't doubt he'll leave again. You know what scares me?" he said, dropping his voice to just above a whisper, "I know that if he breaks out again, I won't be able to stop him. Have you seen him fight?"

"Briefly. He is extraordinary, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is. His lordship might have picked a winner this time. Speaking of whom, he will be very angry if you delay any longer."

"Let him be angry. I feel no obligation to be there."

Again, that smile, "Yes, my lady, but surely you'd rather associate with the high class instead of a lowly captain such as myself."

"I will if you say 'My lady' once more, and not call me by name."

They chuckled, their laughter then cut short by a worried servant who summoned her to Suruv's table. She sighed, rolled her eyes at an amused Pericles, and joined the higher class.

The banquet was kicked off by sacrificing a goat to some god or another (the type of sacrifice usually depended on the occasion; during holiday feasts a person was sometimes sacrificed, and on the Day of Tash, the major holiday, a child of the nobles was done away with. The entire process made Aoife sick, and not because she was squeamish), then all present were seated, men on one side of the table and women on the other. Thus far, Shameth had been deeply engrossed in politics with her father, and for the first thirty minutes of the meal she was spared. Unfortunately, his attention eventually turned to her.

"And you, O my Lady, how are things with you tonight?" not waiting for an answer, he continued, "I thought of you earlier today, as I passed a field of tulips, and saw them swaying in the wind. You know, I pass that field so much, I have a mind to buy it-"

And that was how things usually went with Shameth, he would at least attempt to compliment Aoife, but somehow it would fall back on himself and his immense wealth. Besides being very conceited, he was also firm in his beliefs, be they over politics, slavery, or the economy. During the times he found himself to be wrong, he would pretend that he had held the right opinion all along, as if he had never changed his mind. He had views on every subject, from the way he treated his slaves (very badly) to the judicial system (he thought that slaves and peasants should be executed for any and every crime, less severe punishments for Tarkaans) to his views about women (silent and submissive).

At one point, he turned to the wheat famine in the west, and how the lack of such had caused minor riots in various places in the nation. He made a comment about subduing the peasants quickly and efficiently, and how if they needed the wheat so badly, they should grow their own, and let the Tarkaans take the little that was being produced. After he produced his arguments, he made the mistake no one in the house of Suruv Tarkaan would ever make; he asked Aoife for her opinion.

She wiped her mouth, folded her napkin neatly, and began, keeping the voice that was mistaken to be very polite, but Suruv, through experience, had learned it was mere sarcasm.

"Well, My Lord, first of all, the constant erosion in the west made it inevitable that there would be a famine, and I think the lord of whichever province that is should have anticipated it and been better prepared, unless he knew of this information and is using the famine as an excuse to charge more on the prices of his wheat, denying the rest their nutrition, which puts him on the same level as murderers, which you so eloquently put should be punished immediately..."

Suruv tried to silence her at this point, knowing the lord of the western province in question was a good friend of Shameth's (and anticipating that Aoife knew as well), but before he could get another word in, Aoife had changed subjects

"...and talking of nutrition, the peasants and slaves need such if they are going to continue to work efficiently for their owners as well as this new burden of growing their own food as your lordship has already suggested..."

"Aoife, that's enough," Suruv warned.

"...and regarding the argument you made about subduing the peasants and slaves, if too many are killed for their crimes, eventually they will die out and then there would be no slave market and the economy would fail, though, I feel, all things considered, it wouldn't be too awful a thing..."

"Aoife, I said that was enough,"Suruv growled.

"No, no, my friend," Shameth stated sweetly, "let her finish. Your daughter is obviously a learned politician. Tell me, my dear, how should we leaders, who have studied the science of politics all our lives, run our provinces?"

Knowing Aoife would give an answer to the question, one not to anyone present's liking, Suruv cut in, "Aoife, you're looking terribly flushed. You are excused to step outside if you wish."

Aoife rose, looking particularly smug.

She didn't doubt she was flushed, it was terribly hot in that room, but knew she was only allowed to leave due to the fact Suruv didn't want to be embarrassed. She muttered a prayer of thanks, for once for Suruv's pride.

The night air was cool and crisp, and it exhilarated Aoife the moment she stepped out the door onto the balcony. The stars shown brightly, as did the moon, casting nearly as much light as the sun might. She was just enjoying her quiet moment when a tall, shapely figure stepped out of the hall. She knew the figure by his gait, more like a swagger, displaying every amount of conceit the owner held. It was her half brother, Bederf.

Bederf was rather handsome, with a long, drawn face, a neatly trimmed goatee, and dark, mysterious eyes any girl would love to be lost in. As it was, he was also incredibly proud and vain, and, for many years now, had a unnatural sort of hatred and attraction for Aoife, the latter never reminding him that they weren't technically related.

"O my sister, what brings you into this ghastly coldness?"

"I rather like it, my brother," she commented, stressing the brother part, "I find it rather thrilling."

"You would, as cold-hearted as you are," the other said bitterly, leaning against the railing.

"And what brings you out here, my brother, if it bothers you so?" she retaliated.

"My own wishes. Unlike you, I may come and go as I please," he said smugly, "it's rather rotten of you to insult a guest like that. If you're not careful, Father may throw you back with all the other riffraff, and then where would you be?"

"A good deal happier than I am now, let me assure you," she replied bitterly, moving away from him.

"I'll be sure to tell him you said so. Perhaps he'll go easy on you, allow you to be one of my personal slaves..."

The innuendo was not lost on Aoife. She knew perfectly well what the "personal" slaves were required to do.

"If that's to be the case, you may tell him I am perfectly content digging up potatoes or mending fences or whatever else may place me far from this house..." she said all this as she walked away, and at the end of her speech, Bederf, enraged, grabbed her from behind and turned her around, shaking her violently as he said, "You dare insult us? Hear me, you are not fit to wipe the boots of the lowliest slave, you ice-hearted, flea-bitten..."

"My lord," came the low and threatening voice of Pericles out of the dark, "why do you dwell outside in this bitter weather? You should be getting back in."

Bederf, who would never take orders from anyone, least of all someone of inferior position, had always been afraid of the captain, and, with the manner of a scolded puppy, released Aoife and trotted back inside obediently.

Pericles rolled his eyes after him, "I saw him coming out, and knew he'd be up to no good. Are you alright?"

"Yes, fine, thank you," came her reply, "and I owe many thanks to the courageous captain of the guards. What's to be his reward?"

The latter grinned, "The mere knowledge of the safety of your ladyship is enough reward for me, thank you."

"Pericles, you always were a pompous fool."

"I merely mastered the finer arts of speech. And you? Why are you out in the cold? Have you insulted your suitor so quickly?"

She chuckled, "He should have known better than to ask me my political views," and she related the entire conversation to her friend.

He nodded in approval, "Very good. I suppose he's building on your ideas as we speak."

"Most likely. I care not."

"Don't you?" he asked, moving closer, "sometimes I think you care very much. You have such a warm heart, it is hard to imagine it as indifferent to undeserved jests others throw you way."

"Alas, you have hit the truth. I do take insults to heart. I know I shouldn't, but I do. And as much as I have heard them in my life, it still hurts to hear them now. And I suppose it will irritate me to hear him spouting my ideas when I go back. But I'm tired, my friend, tired of all the insults and slander I must take."

"I do not doubt. I feel that way also."

She gasped, "Oh, Pericles, how selfish of me! Of course you face just as much prejudice as I."

He shook his head kindly, "Nay, you are the least selfish person I know. I do not expect you to remember my troubles. You are right, though. I am hated because of my sympathies, just as my father was."

"I'm terribly sorry for you father,"Aoife said quietly, after a short pause, "he was always such a kind man. He used to bring me jewels from Narnia. I still have them in my room, hidden where none of my family could ever see."

"Yes, he loved you like one of his own. He was always a heartfelt man; he hated how you were forced to grow up like you did. Children liked him, and he they, but he seemed to have a special attachment towards you. I remember, every time we left, he told me, 'O my son, however you must acquire the job, never let that young woman out of your sight. She is too important.'"

Aoife was puzzled, "Important?"

The latter shrugged, and glanced over at his companion, "I'm not sure what he meant. He said it all the same."

"I supposed you achieved victory," she commented proudly.

"What? Oh yes, I suppose you're right. Though I wish he had remained alive, and I could still be a Tarkaan's son, merely because circumstances would make it easier to watch over you," he said all this very quickly, not looking at her.

"What do you mean?" she asked, though she thought she had an inkling, but was afraid it might be wrong.

"I mean...."he stumbled, then, "I mean...I would have married you," he finally finished, and though it was dark, she was sure his face turned a deep shade of red. Unfortunately, any further love confessions were interrupted by Shameth, who cursed Pericles roundly for not patrolling (he too liked to bully the young man when he was there) and pulled Aoife back inside, not before hissing, "So, Pericles, son of Pelan, you would attempt to win the heart of the Tarkeehena? Remember, you are no better than barbarians you father loved, how could you think of yourself worthy of her attention?" and he slammed the door, leaving Pericles with these cruel words.