(-a/n- Hi everyone! I can't believe I'm on chapter 32 already, though on the other hand I can't believe that it's been just over a year since I started this fic. And to think that I was naïve enough to think that I could finish it in a couple of months! But here we are, a year later. This story has escalated beyond my wildest imaginings and I want to thank all reviewers, especially those who've been with me from the start :P Love to all of you guys, who've made all of the many, many hours sat at this computer worth it. :P
I've only got a couple of other things to say, a) sorry for the late update, I've been working at this chapter for over a week but school has been crazy…I've over 27 hours of exam papers to complete :S –sighs- And I've just been so exhausted that I've been unable to write anything at all. However today school finished (Yay!) at lunchtime, so I've slept all afternoon and am now feeling a whole lot better :D
Secondly, I've been working at spell and grammar checking the first lot of chapters because my writing has improved so much. This means for all new readers or people re-reading some chapters, it'll be much better :D
So now that it's the holidays, hopefully I'll be able to do a couple of quick updates :D But we'll see… :D
Thanks to the reviewers; (You broke a record last chapter!)
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truffletruffle01Field hockey :D but it's on Astroturf which is faster!
Thanks as always, you've really no idea how much I enjoy reading your reviews!
Confusedknight xxx
Disclaimer (I thought I'd better put one in.) : Anything you recognise e.g. Kel, Neal the Palace etc. belongs to Tamora Pierce. Idan and Alex belong to meeeeeeeeee!! Hehehe –manic giggling-! (I've just eaten a rather sugary pear and sugar is flooding into my system :D )
'There is no better spy than a slave. No one notices them. They may go anywhere, look into anything, if they are careful. They can ask questions that would be suspicious coming from others, because everyone believes a slave is stupid, even when given evidence he is not.'
-From a letter to Alianne of Pirate's swoop, from Sir Myles of Olau.
Eventually Kel pulled away from Idan and drawing a shuddering breath, she laid her head on his bare shoulder. Warm, slightly damp arms enfolded her and they remained like that for a long time, Idan resting his chin on Kel's head.
It was only when the dinner bell rang that they finally broke apart and without saying anything made their way back through the trees. Kel's mind was in turmoil; everything was happening so fast. Somewhere deep within her she knew that Alex wouldn't approve of her becoming involved with a slave boy, but she didn't think that she could face the next couple of months alone.
Idan slipped his tough, calloused hand into her small, damaged one and squeezed gently. Internally a decision was made; in this godsforsaken place she was going to need all of the support she could get.
After supper, Kel, still hungry, returned to the barracks with Idan and joined in the evening song with as much strength as she could muster, before flopping back next to Idan and falling asleep almost immediately.
Whoever told Kel that the second day was the worst, was a liar. So was the person who said that the third day was the worst. In truth Kel's condition declined so much throughout the week, that by the sixth day, she couldn't do so much as stand up properly. Knowing that she would get beaten if she attempted to work, Kel remained behind, whilst Idan went out work. She slept almost the entire day sleeping, and though she was still stiff and sore when she woke up, she could at least move.
After two weeks Kel's hands had developed enough callous to protect them from the vigours of physical labour. Her back muscles had also become accustomed to the work and with Idan at her side, Kel settled into a regular routine on the Plantation.
It was only then that Kel could even begin to think about spying. When she left the field one day, she washed herself as she normally did and slipping away from Idan, she snuck around the back of the slave barracks and proceeded to explore.
She followed a track to another set of slave barracks and had a nose about, finding nothing except more dishevelled people immersed in their own misery. Annoyed, Kel moved on. Across the courtyard, where some older slaves were busy setting up the dinner, Kel saw a guard leaving a somewhat smaller building. At a slow, ambling pace, Kel crossed the yard and sat down, leaning her back up against the wall, pretending to examine her dirt-encrusted foot.
From her position near the door, if she listened carefully she could discern the conversations of the guards within. After fifteen minutes or so of listening to the guard's idle chatter, Kel returned back to her own slave barracks, pondering the difficulty of the task she had been set.
The next morning it rained, cold droplets pouring down from the iron-grey sky. The ground underneath the slaves' feet was soft and muddy as they splashed their way down to the fields and by the time Kel had collected her tools for the day's work ahead, she was already soaked to her skin. The mud that surrounded her ankles was cold, and already she had begun to shiver.
The slave masters, no doubt in a bad mood because of the weather, were driving the slaves harder than ever. Dropping to her knees Kel began to tend to the muddy bog in front of her, clearing the weeds from the fresh shoots. Every time her bucket was full, she had to slip and slide her way along to the corner of the field, where all of the waste was being dumped. Once or twice she fell over, but Kel was already so cold and wet that she didn't really care.
Idan, who was working nearest to her, seemed un-bothered by the weather. He worked rhythmically, occasionally smiling at Kel when he caught her eye.
When they stopped for lunch, every slave was handed a soggy roll, that seemed to disintegrate before their very eyes. Nevertheless they all swallowed it down, Kel tasting the mud that had been transferred from her fingers.
Closing her eyes, Kel lifted her head up to the rain, allowing it's hard droplets to beat against her face. She opened her mouth and let the cold droplets fall onto her tongue as well, letting the harsh, slightly strange-tasting water slide down her throat.
A pair of muddy arms enveloped her from behind and a pair of lips kissed the side of her temple. She relaxed back into Idan's arms, revelling in the heat that his body emanated.
'Keep going,' he whispered encouragingly in her ear. 'It's not that bad, just a little bit of rain that's all.'
Kel smiled weakly, not bothering to argue. Idan kissed her again on the top of her head, before releasing her and walking over to retrieve his tools.
As Kel followed him, she thought of how she enjoyed Idan's attentions; how when he enclosed her in his muscled arms she felt momentarily safe, as though nothing of her past, present of future could possibly harm her. They hadn't kissed properly since that first time, but Kel was prepared to let their relationship unfurl slowly as she gradually learned to trust Idan.
Kel reflected that the relationship was more difficult on her, as she was the one keeping huge secrets, ones which Idan would never know about. In fact, everything that Idan knew about her, from the name 'Elianne' to her life's history was false. Sometimes Kel would stop and think about how much she hid from him and also from Alex, but it made Kel feel uncomfortable, so she tried not to dwell upon the issue.
She returned to pulling up weeds, her ever-lasting determination filling her body with new energy reserves to battle off the mind-numbing cold. Vaguely the noise of people singing filtered in through her clouded thoughts. Looking around, Kel discovered that the slaves had begun to sing.
It wasn't the passion-filled, hope-fuelled melodies of the evening songs but more of a determined mantra, to keep their mind off of the physical pain that they were enduring. Kel listened, letting the song's rhythm determine the pace at which she worked. After a couple of rounds, the repetitive words were repeated and Kel caught on, joining in along with Idan, whose smooth tenor voice, complimented her descant.
With her mind on other things, time seemed to pass quicker and much sooner than Kel had expected, all of the slaves were stumbling and slipping their way back to the slave barracks.
Kel and Idan rinsed the mud off of their clothes and for once the icy temperature's of the stream didn't bother Kel; her hands were already far too numb to care.
When they returned to the barracks after dinner, soaking wet, they found that a heavy atmosphere had settled. Near the far end a heavily pregnant woman lay on her back groaning and whimpering, surrounded by couple of others who were all muttering encouragement to her.
Idan averted his eyes and made his way over to their bed, but Kel stopped, a troubled expression on her face. Idan beckoned her over and she obeyed reluctantly, her eyes full of anxiety.
'Where is the healer?' she asked as she sat down cross-legged on the bed.
'Healer?' snorted Idan bitterly. 'As if they'd pay for a healer's fees. It would probably be more expensive than she cost in the first place.'
Kel gaped at him, horrified.
'You know El, sometimes you really don't act like a slave,' commented Idan.
'But there must be someone who had a healing gift,' persisted Kel.
'If they did, then they wouldn't be in this hellhole,' he replied.
Kel remained silent for several minutes, looking around the room and observing the reactions of her fellow slaves. To her, it seemed like the only people that were remotely bothered about the poor young woman were the three people sitting by her bed. In fact, she would go as far as to say that everyone else was positively ignoring her.
'Why don't they care?' asked Kel softly in a confused voice, 'that woman might die and no one seems worried by it. How can they just act as though nothing is wrong?'
'Look,' said Idan, 'it's different for you; you haven't always been working on the plantations.'
'Why should that make any difference?' demanded Kel.
'Because…after a while…' Idan seemed to struggle to find the right words, but Kel wasn't going to back down. 'Look, this slave plantation, just one, has over two thousand slaves. They have to buy about seven slaves every week just to replace those who've died. You'll also never know when you might be sold on. The more people you let become close to you, the more you'll suffer when they die or you get separated. Sure, we sing together at night, but I don't know half of the people who live in this barracks. You just won't be able to cope if you know everyone personally.'
'You know me personally,' pointed out Kel, hurt splashed across her face like the mud had been earlier.
'I know,' sighed Idan, 'and I'm so glad I do, but you and I know that we won't always be together.'
'I understand,' said Kel slowly, 'but the way I see it, if everyone had a little more care for the people around them, then half of life's problems would be solved. And if this is all the life we're going to get, then we may as well live it and pay the consequences later.'
Kel slipped off of the bed and trotted over to the crying woman. The woman's husband and two other women looked up at her in surprise.
'How're you doing?' Kel asked concernedly.
'Who're you?' asked one of the women suspiciously.
'Elianne,' replied Kel, lying fluently. 'Do you need anything?'
'You can go away-' started up the husband, but the woman lying on the bed placed a calming hand upon his arm.
'Could you get me a drink?' she asked.
Kel nodded and scurried away into the darkness, returning with a rough-hewn mug full of water. She had found it discarded in the courtyard; obviously someone had missed it when clearing up from dinner. She offered it to the woman without a word.
They all sat in tense silence for several minutes, listening to the hubbub all around them. Then one of the women who sat next to the pregnant lady, got up and drew Kel aside.
'Do you know anything about birthing?' she asked desperately.
Kel shook her head sadly; she had never actually witnessed someone giving birth before. But then she remembered the tales of births that Fanche, the local healer, used to tell her family over the dinner table each evening.
'I think maybe she should do some exercise, walk around or something…' suggested Kel, 'It might help…'
The other lady nodded and together they helped the distressed lady up. She cried out in pain, and a fresh wave of tears dribbled down her face.
'Come on,' encouraged Kel, and slowly, they made their way outside to the fresh damp air. Now that it had stopped raining, the soil had a lovely earthen smell about it, and Kel inhaled deeply. They walked the woman twice around the courtyard before taking her back inside.
When they returned, Kel found Idan deep in conversation with the lady's husband. As they helped the woman back down onto the bed, Idan looked up and Kel smiled at him, a smile full of forgiveness and gratitude.
For the rest of the evening, Kel tried to distract the woman from her pain by telling her stories. She recounted the adventures of Alanna the Lioness and by the time she finished describing how Alanna had finally triumphed over Duke Roger, a small audience had gathered.
'I think it's coming,' said one of the women excitedly and the expectant mother let out a shriek of pain.
'That's it, come on,' encouraged the husband, who was gripping his wife's hand as though it was a lifeline.
With a final scream of pain, a dark, fluid-covered infant slid out onto the bed. It didn't move and lay there, still and silent. Nobody said anything, but one of the women attempted to revive the child.
After several tense minutes they gave up. Kel and Idan slipped away, leaving the couple to deal with their grief. Tears welled in Kel's eyes too, for the sheer harshness of the situation. That poor mother had carried the baby for 9 months and endured agonising birth all for nothing.
They got into bed and Kel snuggled up to Idan, burying her face in the pillow, trying to block out everything.
Idan rubbed her back soothingly, murmuring softly to her.
'It happens a lot,' he whispered, 'but at least she still has her life, which is something to be thankful for.'
Kel sniffed and nodded, offering a quick prayer to the Goddess for the dead baby's soul.
'You did a good thing today,' said Idan, rolling Kel over to face him.
'We did a good thing,' corrected Kel and she leaned forward, gently pressing her lips to his.
The broke apart a couple of moments later, when the singing began. The sat up in bed, Kel tucked under Idan's arm and sang together. When it was over, silence descended as everyone settled down to sleep.
'Sweet dreams,' whispered Idan.
Dreams…dreams…the word echoed around Kel's head until she whispered;
'Idan, you know earlier I recounted the tale of the Lady Knight?'
'Mh' grunted Idan.
'Do you think that a woman should be a knight?' Kel held her breath as she waited for his answer.
'If women are allowed to be made to work out here, in all weathers until they haven't enough strength to even bear their own child, then they should be allowed to do anything,' he replied.
The next morning Kel set off to work with all the others. She worked consistantly, the lack of rain had improved her mood and when she returned to the barracks that afternoon, she felt tired, but not the bone-weary exhaustion that had plagued her before.
However as she was about to enter the barracks, two guardsmen were carrying out a body wrapped in a sheet. With a sense of foreboding Kel entered the barracks. Just inside the door, stood the husband whom Idan had been comforting the previous evening. He stood there with a blank expression on his face. Vaguely recognising Kel through his shock, he stuttered;
'She hung herself…she…hung…herself…' and then his knees gave way as he was overcome with despair.
Idan and Kel helped the man over to his bed, where two women waited, tears also pouring down their cheeks.
They left the friends to their grief and returned to their own space.
'She must've just given up the desire to live,' said Idan sadly, scrutinising Kel closely. 'Are you alright?'
'Yes,' said Kel slowly, 'I think I'll go and get some air.'
'Do you want me to come with you?' he asked.
Kel shook her head and made her way into the wood. She began to run, pounding through the trees until she came to rest in a small clearing, breathing hard. She cast her eyes around the forest floor until she spotted a decent sized branch. Kel snapped off all of it's twigs until she had a crude imitation of a sword clasped in her hand.
She began to swing the "sword" around, reawakening muscles that hadn't been used for nearly a month. Kel drilled herself relentlessly channelling her anger into physical energy. By the time it began to grown dark, she was well and truly exhausted. Leaving the branch on the ground and feeling slightly better she trudged back to the barracks.
Neal raked his hand through his hair absent-mindedly. He was trying to finish the difficult calculations that one of the Mithran priest's had set when a small bird landed upon his desk. Neal looked up in surprise; the sparrows hardly ever visited him anymore despite the fact that he still left seed out for them every morning.
The sparrow hopped up and down agitatedly across Neal's mathematics work. With a sigh, Neal got up and pushed the window open even wider than it had been.
'The exit's over here,' he called, as the sparrow chattered angrily, flying over to the door to his room. Neal opened the door and the sparrow zoomed out into the corridor. Neal poked his head out into the hall, trying to spot where the bird had gone. He was about to return to his work when he heard a muffled cry. Pulling the door shut behind him, he ran up the corridor in the direction that the noise had come from.
There was a draft; someone had left the door that led to the courtyard open. Neal crossed over to shut the door and as he drew nearer, the sound of angry sparrow chatter filled his ears. He stepped out into the courtyard to find Vinson grappling with a short, terrified looking girl.
'Unhand that girl at once,' commanded Neal, anger coursing through him. The sparrows, their job done, flew away into the evening sky.
Vinson turned to look at Neal, still holding the maid. He had several gouges down his cheeks, no doubt made by the maid's fingernails.
Seeing clearly for the first time who it was, Vinson let go of the maid.
'How dare you?' asked Neal furiously, 'how dare you touch an unwilling woman?'
'You're wrong,' Vinson said, licking his lips nervously. 'The wench has been eyeing me for weeks. They all do it –bed men for money. You should know Queenscove, after all how much did you pay Mindelan? Or was it just an arrangement you-'
Vinson didn't even finish his sentence before Neal punched him in the face. He reeled backwards, letting go of the maid to clutch at his broken nose, which was pouring blood.
'Don't let me ever, catch you assaulting a woman again,' said Neal in a voice that was deadly calm. 'And if you ever insult Kel like that again, then I'll take it up with you on the practise courts.'
Vinson scuttled away, not daring to threaten Neal, whose family were extremely influential at court.
'Coward,' Neal spat after him. He then turned to the maid who was crying in the corner. 'Are you alright? Did he hurt you in any way?' Neal asked concernedly.
'Only bruises sir, but he would've started hitting sooner or later –they all do.' Neal stared, appalled. The maid turned her face away. 'My dad, my brothers all hit their women.'
'We should report this,' said Neal.
'No please don't sir, he can make things difficult for me and my uncle sir. He has power; if he speaks to people he can put us out of work sir.'
'Show me your bruises,' instructed Neal.
Cautiously the maid rolled up her sleeves. Neal touched a long finger to the red marks there, which faded rapidly as a green spark leapt onto her skin.
'Thank you sir,' said the maid earnestly.
'I'm not a knight yet,' smiled Neal.
'Oh but you will be sir, you will, you'll be a much better knight than him,' she gestured towards the door through which Vinson had fled.
Neal acknowledged the compliment.
'I'd best get back to the maid's quarters,' she said, curtsying politely. 'Thank you sir, once again.'
Neal smiled. As the girl walked up the corridor he shouted.
'What's your name?'
'Lalasa, sir,' she replied before disappearing around a corner.
As Neal walked slowly back to his rooms, he bumped into Cleon.
'I just went to your room to say goodbye,' said the tall, red-headed Squire, 'but you weren't there.'
'No sorry,' replied Neal, 'I just went to get some fresh air…So you're leaving again?'
Cleon nodded.
'We've been called back to the Northern border. If you ask me, they're expecting trouble up their sooner or later. Still,' he smiled broadly, 'a group of barbarians isn't much of a threat to the King's army.'
He clapped Neal on the back and turned to go. Neal didn't know why he did it, but he felt that he just had to ask.
'No news of Kel?' he asked desperately.
Cleon shook his head, his cheerful expression gone.
'I think everyone's beginning to accept that she's either dead or not coming back.'
Neal shook his head mulishly.
'Neal,' sighed Cleon, 'she's a twelve-year-old girl. Where in Tortall would she go even if she had survived and why hasn't she returned to her family?' he shook his head sadly at Neal and walked away.
'She's not any twelve-year-old girl,' Neal muttered to himself, under his breath. 'She's Kel.'
(-a/n- I hope you liked it :D I felt that I just had to include some of Neal, especially since so many of you requested it. It's quite difficult, because I have to find some reason to include him, not just him moping after Kel. But when I skimmed through the book to see what the pages were doing in the spring of their third year, it involved the whole 'Vinson-Lalasa' incident and I really wanted to write Lalasa into the story…so there you have it.)
Anyway, as always reviews will be LOVED :p
Happy Christmas ;D
Confusedknight xxx
(Man…I just realised that it's two years since I was writing Much Ado about Shorts…-sighs- how time flies!)