Bones of the Empire (9 page)

Yiral came over to Raeln and slowly took a knee beside him, wincing as her joint cracked with the effort. “The family heads have spoken about you, and to my surprise, much of it was good, though sadly not all,” she said, lowering her hood despite the chill winds that made even Raeln’s face cold. Her long grey hair flapped around her head as she beamed at him. “A few months ago, they would have gladly argued over which family you could serve. Now, things are different and none want that responsibility. That leaves it up to me to keep watch over you, or you must be returned to the slave-caste.”

“I will not be called a slave. Kill me if you have to, but don’t ever call me that.”

Yiral smirked at that and quickly added, “If you were brought into my house as a servant, your life would be pleasant until the council’s patrols came to visit. The moment they saw you, they would execute you. To avoid this fate, you will be my slave—”

“I said, I will not be a slave!”

“—along with both of your friends. Invaders are normally not allowed to be kept together, but I see no other way. I am not a wealthy woman and only have one slave house. If you will indulge my poverty, you will be reunited with your friends out of necessity…though I must say, after today’s performance, I feel you have earned it. Will that be enough to calm the storm of anger you feel?”

Raeln eyed the woman, searching for some trick in what she was doing.

Instead, she motioned for him to go to Yoska and Dalania, bowing her head to him graciously.

Getting his feet under him—a rather difficult action, with both arms bruised to the point they shook and his stomach still aching and bleeding—Raeln stumbled down the slope toward Dalania and Yoska. As soon as he reached them, Dalania grabbed his arm and pulled him along. Yoska took the lead, watching the sparse trees with narrowed eyes, as though he expected an ambush. With both of them unarmed, Raeln honestly found Dalania to be far more ready for an attack than Yoska.

“What’s going on?” Raeln asked, glancing back to see Yiral alone on the hillside, watching them go. The woman certainly did look like she was evaluating their worth. “She—”

“Shut up!” snapped Dalania, tugging him hard enough that he nearly fell.

They led Raeln rapidly through the patch of woods and into the slave village, where the few dozen small huts either had smoke rising from makeshift chimneys or out open windows. Through several of those windows, Raeln saw elves and dwarves watching him, as well as two orcs. They continued past those huts, steering him to one in the middle of the village. Yoska rushed inside while Dalania stopped Raeln outside the door.

“Is clear,” Yoska announced a second later, and Dalania hurried Raeln in and closed the door behind them.

“Now can I ask what in the hells is happening?” Raeln demanded, nearly collapsing as he sat on the floor of the mostly empty room. There were four mats with blankets set up around the edge of the place, plus one large rug at the center, where he would have hoped to see a fire pit. “Shouldn’t they be skinning us or calling Liris in to finish the job?”

“Yes, they should,” Dalania admitted, sitting on one of the mats directly opposite Yoska. She could not have chosen a spot farther from him, and Raeln knew her well enough to know it was intentional. “From what the other slaves mentioned, that actually is an edict by the council. A few weeks ago, a group of the council’s people rode into this clanhold and executed the clan’s orcs and wildlings. It very nearly started a war on the spot. This was the last clan to keep any slaves of those races, and none of the ones here now have been here more than a week, from what we’ve heard. They’re collecting the slaves they were supposed to execute.”

“Then why protect me? And didn’t I see orcs in the other huts?” asked Raeln, flexing his fingers. Every bone in his arms felt bruised.

Yoska peeked out the windows before closing the shutters tightly. “All orcs are new to this clan. There is also one wildling, and he is new too. They were traded to this clan from others. The price negotiated was a pledge of aid in every case. Is rather curious, no? Why go out of your way to accept forbidden slaves for no payment?”

“Where are the others? Estin, Feanne, Turess…”

Dalania shook her head and pulled a thin blanket to her chin. “We lost them in the fight. I saw Estin fall with a bolt in his chest. Feanne took several, and even she can’t take that bad of a wound without a healer. I don’t think they made it. Turess ran when the order was given, but I don’t know if he made far. There was blood everywhere…”

Groaning and flopping onto his back, Raeln tried not to think about the aches in his body or the puffs of steam each time he exhaled in the cold hut. “Can we run? The slave camp is almost a mile from their main village.”

“No, is bad idea,” Yoska answered. “Village taught slaves that they are rewarded for defending the clan. That includes stopping those who would run. Other slaves would kill us. Is very clever to make the slaves enslave one another Is not so bad, though. Turessians are quite nice, at least so far.”

“The fool gave some customary gypsy greeting, and they knew the other half,” Dalania said, rolling her eyes. “Not that it stopped them from sending us to carry wood immediately afterward. I think he amused Yiral, which is why she claimed us. If he’d kept his mouth shut, we might have been left with someone less concerned about what we do each day.”

Yoska clicked his tongue at that. “It would not have stopped gypsy from killing us if we were talking to a cousin either. Is just nice to know they are not too uncivil, no?”

“We’ll see how civil they are,” Raeln told them, closing his eyes. “We get to act the part of slaves until we see an opportunity to run.”

Coming over and sitting beside Raeln, Yoska patted his shoulder. “Could be worse, no? Carrying small armload of wood is not so bad life. Beside, I find many lovely women in this village who are oh so fascinated by my stories of travel.”

*

The next morning, Raeln got the answer to whether it could be worse.

Before dawn broke, the door of the hut was kicked open by three human men and one woman. They rushed in and grabbed Dalania before Raeln could wake fully. Yoska hopped up from his mat and raised his hands to surrender while Dalania was shoved outside.

“What’s happening?” Raeln asked, rolling to hands and feet, ready to spring at the nearest human, who bore Turessian tattoos. He searched Yoska’s face for answers, but found annoyed acceptance rather than fear. When he bared his teeth, Dalania gave him a panicked shake of her head, warning him to stop.

“Is regular wake up,” Yoska said, his voice calm, despite the dazed look on his face. He clearly had not been quite ready for it either. “They did same last few days. We are last slaves awake, so they come for us. Something about lazy southerners, no?”

The human man nearest Raeln nodded at that and offered a hand to Raeln to help him stand. “No time for sleep when work needs to be done,” the man told him, pulling Raeln up. “You’ll get used to it. We all do. We aren’t going to harm any of you without reason.”

Raeln let his eyes drift over the man’s tattoos and down at their clasped hands, as the human laughed.

“Fallen clan,” he explained. “Feirenn crushed my clan during a challenge over some of the northern woods. I couldn’t prove myself in their clan’s trials, so I’m no better than you now, beast. The rule against contact is a matter of pride. Slaves have no use for pride. I could kiss you on the cheek and no one would care anymore, though I won’t deny it would disgust me.”

“Don’t call me a beast,” warned Raeln, tightening his grip until the man winced. Despite his obvious pain, the man said nothing and did not stop meeting Raeln’s glare.

Dalania came back into the hut quickly and put her hand on Raeln’s, silently asking him to stop. He relented a second later, releasing the man.

The Turessian scowled at Raeln, rubbing his hand. He motioned toward the door of the small hut. “Get moving. One of the preservers is waiting for you three.”

Dreading what they might want from him, knowing it could be anything from execution to being forced to fight with another child, Raeln led the way out of the hut and into the bitter winds that circled through the tiny village, snow swirling through the gaps between huts. Outside, the entire village waited in the “streets,” surrounding Raeln, Yoska, and Dalania. Nearly thirty slaves stared at them expectantly.

“What’s this?” Raeln demanded as his friends were pushed up beside him. “You said a preserver was waiting.”

“He is. This is to make sure you arrive safely,” the Turessian told Raeln. “We thought you three might do something stupid. Most newcomers do, and those with friends are the worst. This is entirely for your own good.”

With a lurch, the slaves closed in on Raeln and the others, grabbing him roughly. He was practically dragged off his feet by the men and woman, but when he raised his hand to strike at them, he realized there were two small elven children clinging to his belt, helping the others move him. His anger cooling instantly, Raeln let the people push and pull him along, becoming more curious about them as he went.

The group led him up the path that ran between the slave village and the woods—not far from the place where he had fought the child—where he saw dozens of abandoned work stations with sanding planes, half-chopped lumber, and trees being stripped of their bark. They pushed him on past this area and into an open section of the woods that looked to have been cleared long ago. There, little more than a large stone slab lay under the dawn light. At the far side of the slab, a robed Turessian waited, his hands clasped behind himself in calm relaxation, his shaved head catching the dawn and highlighting the black tattoos against his pale skin. After studying the man during their approach, Raeln realized it was the same man who had helped remove the stone from his stomach days before.

“What am I supposed to do here?” asked Raeln, as Dalania and Yoska were brought up alongside him. They both looked as confused as he felt.

“Stay calm,” one of the dwarven slaves told him. A dozen hands pushed him down onto his knees, holding him there. “We’ll be able to get to work soon.”

Being told to be calm had the distinct effect of making Raeln anything but calm. He looked around nervously as the slaves adjusted their grip on his shoulders and arms, keeping him from moving at all. Yoska was being similarly held, though by a few less people. A pair of burly humans held Dalania, who was not resisting at all.

After a few seconds, Dalania was pushed up onto the stone slab by the men holding her. She looked terrified, glancing back at Raeln every few steps, her eyes pleading with him to make some sense of what was happening. He could see no way of helping her, shy of beating down every single person out there. He also knew that was the last thing she would want of him.

Once Dalania had been brought to the middle of the slab, the two slaves holding her forced her to her knees in front of the preserver, who approached her with his hands still behind himself. After she had been settled, he brought his hand around, revealing a metal rod with an elaborate metal shape at the end. He waved his free hand, and the metal flared bright red, heating almost instantly to the point that it steamed in the cold air.

“No!” Raeln gasped, flailing to free himself. He had worked on enough farms growing up that he knew exactly what was going on. Dalania was about to be branded like cattle. “Let us go!”

The slaves fought him, and more joined those holding him, trying to keep him from interfering. They encircled him to get a better grip on his clothing and fur, cutting off his sight of Dalania. He twisted and struggled, trying to free himself, but there were too many. Someone even kicked him in his wounded side, knocking the breath from his lungs. Then a scream and the telltale sizzle of flesh burning filled his ears.

All of Raeln’s anger and fear vanished instantly, replaced by an utter calm. He was going to kill everyone between him and the Turessian that had hurt Dalania.

Raeln twisted his arm and easily broke the hold of the three people on that side. Turning and using his freed hand, he struck out at the remaining people on him, gaining more freedom of movement with each person he got off him. He could hear screams and see people moving, but his calm shielded him from any detail beyond the constant drive to push through them. He felt bones break as he got his hands on one person and then another, until he was free of those that wanted to keep him from saving Dalania. He rushed up the stone slab, his long-dead sister’s face floating in his mind as echoes of Dalania’s screams faded.