(-a/n- Greetings! Thanks as always for the wonderful reviews, I really do love everyone of your kind messages :P An exciting chapter today, so I hope you'll enjoy! Ooh...and the song that features in this chapter is called; The Impossible dream, and it's sung by Luther Vandross if you want to look it up on Youtube or something...I thought that the song was strangely appropriate for Kel's circumstances :D)
Skyline RomanceSarahE7191RiverSong DreamShadowNotAfraidToLivepinnapleonpizzaLady Knight KeladryJaBoyYamountainelementsx17SkmBdrchiczxxlittletrickstergirlthis fish fliespretty how townsesshylover907ThJaFl, kalush, ananasfreak47Serilia, Michi, CedeTearainyMrs. Dom MasbolleGrace of MasbolleCheeseycraziness, Me, Venuspixieomateido, too lazy to log in, mylovelyminion, Dragon Huntress,Yabberli,emerald,ladystardust718,UncertianDestiny,tygerliilly,geka0taitsume0taikaiyoudarkjewelledassassin, Eternityfalls, HasamakipeddyviolinOrohippusTransfigurationwAstxd1pRocrasTinator, chariti, Nyx, SaoirseWaveglowelfie-mayDrunken Little MonkeySavingSaturnPie of DoomehErytha13.shimer.13, hahasxybitch, killing u with umbrellasyoulovethisshitForget Me Not Blueoirishgoddess, Dominga, ObSeSsEd WiTh ROXASErynfaerJaden Scorpio, kgwoozle, hyperbookwormBlackWidow12, tomboy, Kathy, alexlilyros, Lady Sapphireajuzblue, Bertie Botts, epobbp, bluefiretensai, CatBeto, seven3eightdark03roseMint Tea Rose, qoh, Feed The Foxes, Fightingrose, Sushiandmanga, truffletruffle01, On top of cloud 9, ACertainJustice youdontwant2no, liberator of captured angel... mirannda, PuddyTatt, Molly, inhuman grace, SeriousPiper, Brokenflamesrebel & Krae Z. Rokke
Lil' Miss All dat Happy Birthday!
Abbs of the faeries It's on her necklace…
Right or Ryn I hope your tests all went ok! Thanks for the super duper long review :D I'm not really an expert on slave plantations, but I'll muddle through the best I can :P Don't worry, you'll soon see where she gets her info from!
fairydust000 Ooh, what instrument do you play? Yeah I'm trying to keep characters and timelines realistic, with the only change of course being that Kel is in Scanra and not training to be a page. I love the PoTS books so much too (who doesn't?!?) but even as I read them I like to imagine that somewhere undercover in Scanra Alex is working, unbeknownst to us! (This just shows how saturated my brain is with this story!) As always thanks for a lovely long review!
Evil Bunny of Death Nope, no marching band…just an orchestra and a swing band (playing Jazz etc.) Um…favourite song…well me and a friend played a double flute concerto with the orchestra, that was pretty cool, but immensely scary standing at the front of the orchestra! Um…what else…we sang a prettiful song called 'The Lily and the Rose,' 'To where you are' and 'Tears in heaven' – that song is so nice!
katiebug123 Hehe! Thanks :P I'm glad to know you're still alive ;D It's really good to know that I've improved, especially since that's one of the reasons that I write. But you must take some credit as your reviews earlier on made me more aware of what could be improved and I now check everything much more carefully. (I'm also gradually going back and spell-checking the early chapters :D) Thanks for reviewing as always xx
Confusedknight xxx
Smell and noise overwhelmed Kel as she entered the long hut to which she has been assigned. No one took any notice of her whatsoever and carried on with their tasks at hand. Kel had been told nothing. She didn't know where she would sleep, where she would work or when she was meant to work. She had simply been shoved into the overcrowded barracks.
Breathing in through her mouth to avoid the overpowering stench of unclean human, she sidled further into the room. There were two rows of bunk beds running down the length of the huge room, with at least one hundred people milling about, talking, and in some cases sleeping.
Kel set off down the gap between the beds, searching either side for somewhere to sleep. All around her were dirty, dishevelled people, all seemingly exhausted. Some seemed to be alone, whilst on other beds whole families rested, the children clinging to their parents.
Kel reached the end of the hall and came to the conclusion that there were no free beds. Confused and miserable, feeling awkward in a room full of strangers, Kel wanted nothing more than to curl up on a bed and wait for someone to acknowledge her existence.
Just as she was considering what to do next a loud bell rang from somewhere outside the building and there was a great amount of scuffling and pushing as all of the slaves rose and made their way out of the barracks. Kel hurried to follow them and tagged on the end of the large queue.
Fortunately the queue moved quickly and Kel could see people moving away clutching food, some already stuffing it into their hungry mouths. As Kel reached the line of trestle tables upon which stood tureens of stew and bread rolls, a man grabbed her shoulder.
'Token?' he inquired. Kel hesitated, unsure of what he was referring to.
'No token, no meal,' he said, roughly hauling Kel out of the queue.
Kel sensed that it would be pointless to try and persuade him to let her eat and watched dejectedly as the people in the queue behind her produced round wooden tokens and handed them to the man.
Scuffing her feet, Kel trudged back to the barracks, her stomach rumbling, feeling very alone and apprehensive about her immediate future. In truth she only had a vague idea about how slave plantations functioned, but she'd been hoping to find someone to show her the ropes. Unfortunately everyone seemed intent upon ignoring her.
Kel entered the smelly, almost deserted building and found herself a spot on the floor in the far corner of the longhouse.
Opening her eyes blearily Kel peered about. She had fallen asleep hunched in the corner. Wincing, she stretched out her cramped legs. As she truly woke up, she wondered how she could've slept at all with the noise the other slaves were making.
Judging by the dimness of the room it was later on in the evening. Faintly Kel could here someone singing. It was a crooning soft melody that rose above the general hubbub, and gradually the talking, arguing and shouting of the slaves died down to listen to the man's voice.
As Kel listened, other voices joined in, singing in perfect harmony to what was obviously a well known song.
To dream the impossible dream,
To fight, the unbeatable foe,
To bear with unbearable sorrow,
To run where the brave dare not go.
To right the un-rightable wrong,
To love pure and chaste from afar,
To try when your arms are too weary,
To reach the unreachable star.
This is my quest
To follow that star,
No matter how hopeless,
No matter how far.
To fight for the right,
Without question or pause,
To be willing to march into Hell
For a heavenly cause.
And I know if I'll only be true
To this glorious quest,
That my heart will lie peaceful and calm
When I'm laid to my rest.
And the world will be better for this,
That one man, scorned and covered with scars,
Still strove with his last ounce of courage
To reach the unreachable star.
Yeah and I'll always dream the impossible dream,
Yes and I'll reach the unreachable star
The majority of the slaves joined in as they sung through various ballads and songs, but Kel, still sitting on the floor was preoccupied with the lyrics of the first song. Dream the impossible dream? Thought Kel, is that what I did? A resounding voice in her head told her no! Girls can be knights. Kel smiled inwardly, knowing that she hadn't given up on her dream just yet. That's what I'll do, she told herself, yawning; I'll reach the unreachable star.
Closing her eyes and shuffling down on the floor, Kel allowed the melodies to wash over her, and within minutes she was asleep.
A harsh, clanging bell quickly roused Kel from her slumbers. Back-aching from the hard wooden floor, she stood up and rubbed her eyes, taking in her surroundings. She watched surreptitiously as everyone else staggered out of bed and then followed them as they exited the slave house.
Kel's stomach rumbled painfully and Kel hoped that she wouldn't require a token to receive her breakfast. Her fingers crossed, she joined the fast moving queue to receive a mug of water and a single slice of bread –it turned out that tokens weren't needed for breakfast.
It didn't take Kel long to finish her meagre meal and soon she was heading out into the field alongside the other slaves. She was handed a dirty metal instrument and a bucket. Copying the boy next to her, she began to drive it into the soil, overturning the damp earth. She repeated this action a couple of times, unsure of what she was meant to be achieving.
'You're new?' asked the boy next to her, his voice thick with an untraceable accent. Kel nodded.
'All we are doing today is turning soil,' he demonstrated the technique, his small, blistered hands clutching the same tool as Kel. 'You must break up lumps and remove rocks,' he instructed throwing a couple of small stones into the bucket by his side.
Abruptly he bent over and began to turn soil as though nothing had happened. Kel stood there for a few moments, utterly bewildered then –thwack! Something solid connected with the small of her back and Kel, completely surprised, was tossed forward into the dirt. She rolled over to see a large man, dressed in black clutching at a thick coiled whip.
'You work,' he said menacingly, pronouncing the words slowly as though he thought Kel to be stupid.
Kel scrambled to her feet and retrieved her tools, hastily beginning to work. The man moved away, striking at others who were apparently "being lazy".
It was back-breaking work, and after an hour Kel's hands were red and sore, blisters already forming from the rough wooden handle of the tool. She desperately wanted to stand up and stretch but the slave masters were constantly prowling up and down the field, punishing anyone who took a break.
Kel shuffled a bit further down the field and kneeling in the soft, slightly squelchy soil, she began to pick rocks out of the earth and toss them into her bucket. When the bucket was full, Kel stood up and groaning at her protesting back she made her way across the large field to empty the rocks unceremoniously onto the ever-growing pile.
To take her mind off of her aching back, arms and hands, Kel glanced around the field as she worked. It was perfectly flat and exactly square in dimensions. About thirty or so slaves worked the massive area but Kel could see many other fields stretching in all directions, each with their own task force of dishevelled workers.
By lunchtime, Kel had been hit three more times by the slave master and after she collected her pitiful lunch -another thin slice of bread and a mug of warm water, she flopped down on the ground, conscious of every strained muscle, every bruise on her back and every blister on her hand.
'It gets better after a week or so,' said the boy who had helped Kel earlier that morning. 'Your hands will get tougher and your back will get used to the strain.'
For the rest of their lunch break, the boy didn't say another word and Kel didn't press him, content to occupy herself with her own thoughts.
The rest of the afternoon was torture for Kel. Her hands began to bleed and the dirt stung at the open wounds. Kel was sweating with exertion, and her shirt was disgusting; fouled by dirt, blood and sweat. When the bell finally rung to signal the end of the day, it took a while for Kel to get up, but eventually she managed to stretch out her sore joints, exchange her work tools for a token and join the other slaves for the trudge back to the slave barracks.
Kel reached the entrance to the barracks, where she was greeted by a cacophony of noise. Deciding that she couldn't face all the people crowded together, Kel decided to seek a quieter place in which to nurse her wounds.
Around the back of the slave houses was a small wood. She made her way through the trees until she could no longer see the ugly rectangular buildings. Kel presumed that as the slaves weren't kept on a tight leash their slave collars must be spelled to not let them out of the plantation's boundaries.
Kel lay on her stomach, her head turned to the side so that her cheek lay on the cool ground and tried not to think about repeating the whole process again tomorrow. How she was ever going to have enough energy to spy for Alex she didn't know, but instead of stewing over these dismal thoughts Kel pushed all of her problems out of her mind and listened vaguely to the swishing noises of the leaves above her.
From far away, Kel heard the dinner bell ring. She stood up and slowly made her way back through the trees. Joining the queue, and this time handing over her token, Kel was handed a stew and yet another piece of bread.
It took less than five minutes for Kel to finish her supper. Deciding that she couldn't face returning inside just yet, she made her way around to the back of the slave building and sat down to enjoy the last few rays of sunshine. Kel had been sitting there, wondering gloomily about how long she'd have to stay on the plantation, when a shadow fell across her vision.
She looked up and saw a man leering down at her.
'Lonely are we?' he said, displaying a set of black, rotting teeth.
Kel scrambled up and made to run away, but the man caught her arm and slammed her back against the wood of the slave house. Kel's vision blurred with pain as her bruised and aching back hit the hard surface. She struggled fruitlessly for a few seconds and then went limp, desperately trying to formulate a plan of escape.
'Pretty young thing aren't you-'
'Get off of her,' said a commanding voice from somewhere behind the man.
Kel looked up, and craning her neck she saw a teenage boy with black, messy hair step forward.
'We're just having some fun,' whined the man.
'Tough luck, leave now or things'll get nasty,' the youth ordered.
The podgy man released Kel, not wanting a fight, and she sank to the ground, trembling. The black-haired boy knelt down beside her.
'Are you okay?' he asked in a concerned voice.
Kel nodded, and taking a shaky breath said;
'Thanks for that.'
A rough but gentle hand lifted her chin up, forcing Kel to look him at him. Hazel eyes met bright blue ones and for a moment they stared at each other. The boy then stood up and offering Kel his hand, pulled her to her feet.
Kel winced as his hand tugged on her sore hand. The boy turned her hand over until her bloodstained palm faced the sky.
'You're new,' he stated with some surprise in his voice.
'How did you know?' asked Kel curiously.
'You're hands are bleeding,' he replied, 'everyone's hands bleed at the beginning. When did you arrive?' he said, not letting go of her hand.
'Last night,' said Kel, her voice cracking and to her horror she found tears were trickling down her dirty cheeks.
'Shh,' soothed the boy, drawing Kel into a hug and rubbing her shoulders in a soothing gesture. Kel allowed herself a few moments of weakness, before straightening up. The black-haired boy wiped the last stray tears away with his coarse thumbs.
'Come on,' he said, 'let's go get you cleaned up a bit. Then I'll show you around.'
Relieved to at last have found someone who was willing to help her, Kel followed him through the trees.
'What's your name?' she asked.
'Idan,' he said grinning.
'Elianne,' replied Kel, combining her previous aliases, 'but call me Eli,' she said returning Idan's contagious grin.
A few moments later they arrived at a shallow, but fast-flowing stream.
'This is where you come to wash,' Idan informed Kel.
Kel stepped down into the icy water and her feet became numb almost instantly. She knelt down and splashed some water onto her face, washed her hands and teased some of the knots out of her hair. Kel didn't bother to try and wash her feet; they would just get dirty again as Kel had no shoes.
'That's better,' said Kel, as she stepped out of the water. Idan, who had sat watching her all of the while, jumped up.
'I imagine you're tired, so I'll make my tour a quick one…' And so they set off for a walk around the immediate area, Idan explaining the daily routine.
'…the tokens are so that only people who work will be fed.' Idan told Kel, as they neared one of the slave houses.
'But what if someone's unable to work, say because they're ill?' asked Kel.
'Then they'd better hope they have good friends who will share food with them,' said Idan sadly. 'That's why we get so many new slaves…to replace those who've died.'
Kel's insides froze with horror. How could human life be counted as something so worthless?
'Come on,' muttered Idan, it's getting late and he led her inside one of the other slave barracks.
'I'm meant to be in the other one,' said Kel.
'Oh no one worries about that,' replied Idan, 'it's not as though they keep tabs on us anyway. In summer it's nice to sleep outside, but at the moment it's far too cold.'
'Are there free beds in here?' enquired Kel.
'There aren't free beds available anywhere,' said Idan, steering Kel to the left and gesturing that she sit on what was undoubtedly his own bed.
'We should start the singing soon,' said Idan, settling back against the wall.
'Why does everyone sing?' asked Kel.
Idan gave her a strange look,
'Where have you been working?'
'In a house as a kitchen assistant,' answered Kel, -it was a half truth anyway.
'So how did you end up on a plantation?' Idan asked. Kel shrugged.
'There was a fire in the house, the Master was killed and I found myself back at the market.'
Just then a voice began to sing and all around Kel the occupants of the beds began to join in.
'Have a go,' urged Idan, 'everyone joins in, it's our way of saying that we haven't given up hope and that one day we'll be free.'
Kel began to sing cautiously, murmuring the words under her breath. As the evening drew on, so did the intensity of the songs. The slaves seemed to pour whatever remaining energy they had into their voice, singing for love and for hope of a better tomorrow. Kel frequently found that she didn't know the words, but lost among the passionate voices of the other slaves it didn't seem to matter if she hummed instead. All that mattered was that they keep the music going.
Kel lost herself in the enchanting melodies. This was music as she'd never encountered it before. It wasn't just simple songs without meaning like the ones sung at the Convent, every line of words seemed to have individual meanings, ones that Kel realised you couldn't appreciate until you actually lived the life of a slave.
Eventually the last song ended and no new ones began; everyone seemed to recognise that it was time for bed. Kel made to get up, but Idan's hand pushed her gently back down.
'Stay here,' he whispered.
'But…' protested Kel.
'Who's going to care?' asked Idan. 'Anyway it's not as though we're going to do anything inappropriate. And surely you don't want to sleep on the floor?'
'Well I don't know…' teased Kel, lying back on the straw mattress, and allowing Idan to pull the blanket over both of them.
When Kel awoke, she was warm and comfortable. It was a few seconds before she realised that someone's arm was draped over her midriff. She nearly sat up in shock, before realising that it was only Idan. Strangely, despite having only known him for a short amount of time, she didn't mind the close contact. He reminded her of someone, but she couldn't place a finger upon whom it was.
'Morning,' Idan whispered, his breath hot upon her neck. Kel rolled over and found herself face to face with a grinning Idan.
'How're your hands this morning?' he asked.
Kel showed him her blistered hands; the sores had formed scabs overnight. He sat up in bed and tore two strips off of the side of the large blanket which covered them both. Sitting cross-legged facing her, Idan took her hands, and with surprising care bandaged them.
'That should stop the worst of the rubbing,' he told her.
'Thanks,' Kel whispered, unsure of what to say.
Just then, the bell clanged loudly and broke the awkward silence.
'Lets go and get some food,' said Idan getting up and busying himself with folding the blanket.
After the small breakfast they were permitted, they set off down to the field together and when handed their tools, they began to work on the same patch. It didn't take long for the scabs on Kel's hands to crack and for blood to begin to ooze through the makeshift bandage. She suffered in silence, trying to concentrate upon anything other than the pain.
'So where are you originally from?' asked Idan.
'A place a long way from here,' replied Kel, thinking for a moment of Mindelan's picturesque castle and lands. 'What about you?' she asked, eager to divert the conversation from her painful past.
'Don't know,' shrugged Idan, 'been a slave for as long as I can remember, passed between places. Can't even remember my parents, though they were probably slaves as well.'
'Why do people have children, when they know that their children will be born into slavery?' asked Kel.
'You've gotta remember that most of us will be slaves until we die,' said Idan with a shrug, 'we've all got to make the best of our circumstances. Besides most places will reward women who bear lots of children. I think once they've had a fourth child that survives beyond infancy they're promoted to working in the houses of the plantation, so they get to stop doing manual labour.'
Kel was filled with a new-found respect for the people that were labouring alongside her. She couldn't comprehend what life must be like for them knowing that they would never be free. Glancing sideways at Idan she wondered if she could persuade Alex to buy him and set him free.
Idan looked up and Kel quickly returned her gaze to the brown soil, feeling slightly flustered.
Lunchtime came and went and by mid-afternoon Kel's stamina was failing her. She couldn't even pick up her tool without intense pain in her hands, and her back and neck ached. Her pace slowed and she struggled to overturn the soil.
'Quick,' hissed Idan, and in one quick movement he swapped his almost-full bucket with Kel's mostly empty one.
'Slacking will not be tolerated,' boomed a voice above Kel and she looked round in time to see Idan pitching forward into the dirt. 'Get up,' roared the slave master and as Idan climbed back to his feet, a lash of the thick whip sent him flying forward. Kel looked on, utterly helpless. If she tried to intervene, she would make the situation worse and possibly blow her cover as a meek slave-girl.
Ten whip lashes and a kick to the stomach later; the masters grew bored of tormenting Idan and wandered off down the field. Kel crawled over to where Idan lay panting and helped him up.
'You shouldn't have done that,' she whispered, her eyes watery.
'Well I did and I don't regret it,' replied Idan. 'You're exhausted and with your hands in that state there's no way that you can be expected to work.'
Several long hours later they helped each other to hobble down to the stream. Idan stripped off his shirt and washed the blood off of his back, whilst Kel bathed her throbbing, stinging hands.
'It'll get better in a week or so,' said Idan, as he waded over to where Kel was patting her hands dry on her skirt. 'Once you're hands have toughened up, it's not so bad.'
He pulled Kel to her feet and for a moment they were dizzyingly close, looking straight into each other's eyes…and then his soft lips were on hers, and Kel forgot all else. She wrapped her arms around Idan's neck and kissed him back, revelling in the intimacy and the feeling that she wasn't completely alone in the depths of Scanra.
(-a/n- So you likey? This story is now delving into new territory as Kel encounters her first romance :P Thanks for being patient with the update, I've been writing this one page at a time to fit it around hockey matches, flute practise and heaps of homework. Still, as always reviews will be dearly loved…)
The exhausted, but happy, Confusedknight xxx