Among the detritus of the city - beggars, cripples, thieves and more - there is a new inhabitant. Of indeterminate gender, stooped and limping, wrapped in a ragged robe, head veiled. He - she - it drifts along the streets, stopping now and then to stare blankly at a wall, or a section of street; or to thrust a hand out to beg a penny or hunk of bread.
Jarad, curious as all small boys are, followed it along the street, squatting down when it stopped to stare, jumping up to run after when it started up again. Slowly, winding their ways through alleys and side-streets, they criss-crossed the city. The sun sank lower, and Jarad, bored, was watching a beetle crawl along a brick, when he realized they were all alone.
Wide-eyed, he began to back away, but the figure drew its filthy cloth from about its head, revealing a young woman who grinned at him and held one finger up to her lips for silence. From fear to excitement in but a moment, Jarad's eyes sparkled eagerly and he came towards her.
"What're you doing?" he whispered.
She ignored his question, asking one of her own. "Are you hungry?" She held out a roll to him. There wasn't any mold on it, and it looked soft, not dried into a crust. "I bet you know these streets better than anybody else... have you seen anyone strange lately? Men? Or a woman, with skin white like bones?"
Jarad snatched for the bread, cramming it into his mouth, and shook his head. When he had gulped it down, "Bones?" he asked, still whispering. "Is she sick or something?"
"Or something. Look, I want you to listen for me, all right? If you see her, or hear anyone talking about her, come and tell me. You can find me at the docks; if I'm not there, put this ribbon in the hole in the last post down. I'll know it's you, and come. And if you see her, don't tell anyone else." She held out a blue ribbon to him.
"What'd she do? Did she run away?"
"No, but she's lost, and I'm trying to find her. If you hear anything about her, I'll pay you."
"How much?" Jarad demanded. Bragging, he added, "I know all this place. There ain't been nobody strange around. Less they come at night or something."
"A penny. And fish. It's better than just bread."
The boy nodded again, a serious look settling on his small face. He spat into his hand and held it out to seal the bargain.
Nisrin spat into her own and clasped his smaller hand. As he darted off, she drew the cloth about her face again, and headed for a different section of Umbar. Street boys heard and saw almost everything; if they had heard anything of Farielle, she would hear it too.
...
Seaward Tower: The Underhall
Tall and broad is this great chamber: high-roofed and wide-walled. Carved out from the solid earth at the very roots of the Seaward Tower, it appears to be a hall of much grandeur but no specific purpose, more a testament to the power of the folk of Umbar than anything else. The floor is paved with smooth multi-coloured tiles wrought of stones of sea-like hue, and the smoothened walls are hung with tapestries depicting the history of the Tower. Beneath the hems of these vividly-woven draperies march the tall, proud statues of Lords past and proud: the men and women who guided the fate of Seaward in years now past. They ring the periphery of the hall, for at its heart is a wide pool of icy water ringed by tall pillars and long benches for sitting. A strong salty scent pervades the chamber, suggesting that the water has come hither from the sea via a long and hidden underground tunnel.
The great lamps that hang upon iron chains from the ceiling are burning brightly, though their glow is transfigured into a warm azure hue by the coloured glass that shutters the lanterns. The number of people here is not great during the evening hours, though four warriors of the Serpent Guard stand or pace hither and thither on duty.
"So," Eruphel says, looking over her shoulder as Azradi follows her down the stairs. "I get visits from the Lady of Farside often. But what brings Azradi of House anAzulada to my Underhall?"
"Can you not guess?" Azradi asks, a smile lingering from an earlier topic. "The Gondorian girl, Farielle. My brother has still not revealed his intentions toward her, which means he also has not rejected her out of hand. Which means she is of interest to my family...and this abduction as much an insult to us as it is to Seaward. I have come to learn what I can and to join your efforts if it is possible. I spoke to one of your guards and learned the story, but I would know more about what you have done and wish to do to retrieve her."
Eruphel looks pained. No, angry. "It shames my Tower, that the City should see that we were robbed of such a jewel. Not even burgled; robbed." Eruphel's brow knits together. "One of the sergeants who was in charge of her care has taken point in the effort to recover her. There was a witness, a man of Flame tower, who is under my coin for now, at least, until we can get her back. And Nisrin also witnessed the attack. But I hear she has been out much, and I never seem to find her at the right time. I hope she is also looking for the girl." Eruphel paces a few steps. "My first instinct is that she is here in the city still, hidden. It makes sense, for it is simple to lose someone in crowds. But I suddenly recall that when /I/ was kidnapped, I was kept on a boat. I should have the harbor searched."
"I spoke to this man from Flame and your Sergeant," says Azradi, nodding her head. She moves to the pool's side and lowers herself to the ground. "I feel your pain, my friend. And here is where Lady Farside enters the conversation: This Vain must be found, executed and his men disbanded and treated likewise. He has attacked a Tower, killed guards and abducted your guest. This cannot go unanswered by either of us."
Eruphel nods emphatically. "His activities in the city have been...ignorable. Tolerable. Though, for a while it seemed his activities fell silent. I even thought or hoped he was dead. But it seems not to be the case. And now, he is bolder than ever." Eruphel says darkly, angrily. "But I am more concerned with recovering the girl at this moment than exacting revenge."
"Yes," Azradi agrees. She pulls off her slippers and eases her feet into the pool, pulling up her gown to mid-thigh to keep it from getting wet. "I think I will publically denounce this act, make a call for her return and lend you a few of my men for the search. You have it in hand quite admirably, so my men are for show only."
"My real work will be quieter and focused on Vain and his men. I will set a reward for any information about this group, 'The Blood'." She grimaces as she says the name. "Such impudence! I doubt any of those men are of the Blood." Shaking her head, she continues. "I will see what can be learned from the city's underside. This Malik and his challenge worries me a bit. If he succeeds in calling out Vain and slays him, finding the rest of his men might become trickier."
Eruphel pauses, considering. "I like that idea. In each mission that goes out looking, there should be at least one man in Farside livery, to show the involvement in both towers. How many men, were you thinking?"
Eruphel goes to one of the stone benches by the cold salt water and sits, crossing her legs. "And I have little worry that Vain will accept Malik's challenge. He does not strike me as one who does anything openly, and does not relish anything close to a fair fight. However, if I am wrong, we would be wise to post spies in the shadows, to follow him as far as they may...or to follow his men, should he lose."
"I will send you as many men as you wish," responds Azradi, turning and shifting so one leg rests on the pool's edge, the other still dangles in the water, as she can see Eruphel. "They will be told to follow Seaward's command on these search missions."
She falls silent for a few moments as she considers. "Yes, I believe you are right about Vain - he is unlikely to answer the challenge. But if he does, I will surely post spies about the Square of Judgement."
"Have you spoken to the High Priestess yet?"
Eruphel nods in agreement to the first and second points, and slips off her shoes to run her toes in the water. But, no more than her toes. "I have not." Eruphel says, her brow suddenly furrowing. "Why do you ask? I do not recall you being prone to rely on her help and wisdom any more than necessary.
"Your Sergeant told me you intended to," replies Azradi, "I was under the impression it was because the abductor was heard to claim her for the Eye. Though I do not think the Citadel is behind this. If they had taken the girl, some moron of a Priest would be prancing about the city boasting and threatening and otherwise spouting other Fanatical nonsense. And you are correct," she continues, a grin spreading across her face, "I am not inclined to seek the Priestess' aid."
"Oh yes." Eruphel says, turning her face away, looking worried. "I have not been thinking clearly, I suppose, which is part of why I have delegated this task to others. But please, do not mistake that this matter is not important to me." she says by way of apology.
"I suppose this is a result of pregnancy?" asks Azradi, wearing an expression of genuine curiosity. "How have you been feeling?"
"I have been feeling like I have had too much pampering, coddling and fawning." Eruphel answers quickly enough, like she's had time to think over that one already. But it doesn't seem directed at Azradi. "And...a little bit disappointed at your brother's lack of congratulations." She sighs. "But I suppose it is to be expected, considering."
"Alphros is consumed by his ambitions," sighs Azradi, pulling her leg from the cold water. "I have not had a proper conversation with him since the last battle of Caldur, either. I have tried, but we can never find a time we are both available." She looks suspicious, "You do mean you haven't seen him, yes? And not that you have seen him since it was announced, but he said nothing on the matter?"
"I have not seen him, nor received any correspondence. Though I believe he has been to my gardens at least once." Which turned out disastrous, btw. "But you soothe my feelings, Azradi anAzulada. If he can scarce find the time for you, whom he loves, then naturally he cannot find the time for me, who he likes."
"Yes, it is important to remember it is not personal with him," replies Azradi, smiling wanly. "He gets rather enthusiastic about whatever is his latest obsession and forgets about everyone. And I had heard things did not go well when he spoke to Farielle. I do not know the details, though. I have been avoiding her until I speak with my brother. All of which is a moot point for the moment."
Eruphel sighs. "She said he said things to her...things I certainly would find offensive, as she did. However, they do not sound like things he would say. I think there must be some misunderstanding. Lord Alphros' callous nature is in his disinterest and neglect, not in unsavory words."
"Yes, you have discerned my brother's nature quite shrewdly," responds Azradi. She pulls her knees up, lowering her skirts first, and encircles them loosely with her arms. "If he said insulting things to her, there was a reason - or, as you said, she misunderstood."
Eruphel sighs, and shakes her head. "After this, he will not want her. She might be deflowered, maimed...dead...even if she seems fine, he will probably want to start the process all over with her, to assure himself that she does not carry a bastard." Her jaw tightens. "I would love to see that man publicly flayed...one thin strip at a time. The market would be empty from people wishing only to escape the sound of his screams. Economic tragedy for the merchants of Umbar, would the punishment of Vain be. Even if we recover her right now, considering how fragile she has been, think you she could be healed?"
"I cannot predict how damaged she will be when, or if, she returns," Azradi says, weighing her words carefully. "But I suspect this is when we will see the true measure of her strength. As for my brother, I am certain he will care whether or not she carries a child, but I do not know if he requires a virgin. If I recall, when he announced his desire for a bride, he said he did not want a married woman unless her husband was killed during her abduction."
"But then again, it is one thing to take a widow to wife, and quite another to have had a prospective virgin bride and live with the knowledge she was spitefully deflowered by violence." Azradi falls silent a moment, her musing gaze shifting to the waters. "I do not know how he could lure a woman treated like that to the marriage bed. I just cannot imagine how it..." She shudders and falls silent.
Eruphel slips her slippers back on and leans forward to pat Azradi's shoulder. "Let us not dwell on dark things which might not need dwelling. Instead, let us focus on what we /do/ know, and what we /can/ do, hmm?" she says, standing and then offering a hand to Lady Farside, to help her rise.
Smiling wanly, Azradi takes Eruphel's hand and rises to her feet. She leans over to retrieve he slippers, though does not put them on yet. "You are right, let us focus on finding her and the men who abducted her."
"Was that lamb I saw served...?" she asks casually, following her friend up the stairs.
...
The world fractured and Farielle fractured with it. Time lost any meaning; days, nights, they were all the same. Farielle huddled on the hard cot that is her bed, her back up against the wall. Something moved beside her, her mother stepped out of the darkness, reaching out a hand and smiling. "My dear," she said, her voice warm. "Come. Why are you sitting here in the dark? Open the drapes."
Farielle straightened a little, a smile tugging at her lips. "Mama," she said, putting out her hand to take her mother's, and banging her knuckles against wood. No one was there. Her mother was gone as if she had never been.
Only to reappear a moment later, looking up from her sewing, where she sat beneath an apple tree. Pink and white blossoms fell in a gust of wind, adorning her raven-colored hair. "I've told you, never stitch /over/; always under."
The earlier appearance and vanishing were forgotten in an instant. Farielle turned towards the end of the bed. "I'm sorry, Mama," she said. "I'll remember. I will. Do you know they want me to marry - "
"Eat this," said another voice. It was coming from her mother's figure, but it wasn't her voice. Farielle froze. Cloth and needles turn to a hunk of bread shoved at her insistently. She stared at the hand that held it - it was a man's hand, with rough skin and coarse nails. The arm... she scrambled backwards as fast as she could, her hand pressed to her mouth and her eyes wide. The arm ended in nothing. The disembodied hand followed her across the bed, shoving melting fingers into her face.
Farielle screamed and her mother cursed and the hand dropped the bread and slapped her. "Be quiet!"
Shocked into silence, Farielle watched the hand pick up the bread again and push it towards her. She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking, and a different voice said, "Wait. Let me try." Closer to her, it dropped in volume and tone, was someone she remembered.
"Farielle," the man said coaxingly. "Come now, what's wrong?" She opened her eyes just a sliver, but there was nothing there except her only ally. Unseen by anyone else, he gave her a tiny frown of warning. She tried to smile, and his smile widened.
"That's right. Here. Come sit on the chair. I've some food for you." Encouraging, cajoling, sweet-talking, Arthadin got her off the bed and onto the chair. "Good, good. You're a good girl, now here. You'll like this." He crouched beside her and gave her a bit of bread with some kind of meat paste spread across it. "You have to eat," he said, dropping his voice a little. "You need to get your strength back, so you can get to the boat. We can't have you fainting half-way there!"
She took the bread - it stayed bread in her fingers - and ate it carefully, one slow bite at a time. The man nodded approvingly, and leaned over to brush his lips on her cheek. She flushed. He was pleased with her.
"That's my girl. I knew you could do it. Are you thirsty?" When she nodded, he handed her a cup. She drank, and was only a little surprised when the cup vanished while she was swallowing, but the water it held remained. A faint light grew in front of her, and a tall man was coming towards her. His veil gleamed a dull gold in the lamplight.
"Lord Alphros?" she said, uncertainly. ""Why are you ... Will you take me back to the Tower, please? I can't find Lady Eruphel, and I need..." She faltered. He wasn't saying anything, only walking towards her, faceless... he was looming over her, bending down, and there was something in her hand, her fingers closed about it. The endless stream of whispers was back, and now she could hear some of the words again.
... kill him. stab him. stab him. he hates you. he's going to hurt you. kill him. kill...
Someone took her hand and stabbed forward with it, and she saw, to her horror, that what she held was a dagger. Lord Alphros collapsed into a tangle of white robes, and she heard Arthadin's voice, warm and pleased, "You are so brave, so courageous." She felt him kiss her cheek again, his breath warm against her skin.
The light faded. Farielle was lying on the cot, under the blanket. She reached out tentatively to touch the bed frame. It felt real. She closed her hand around the wood and it squished into mud.