Chapter 843: Elendor [7]
“Girl, slow down,” panted the older lady.
“Someone’s excited to see the horses,” giggled the entourage of four, including the younger lass. Buckets at their hips, the wiser women strolled atop a bleak bridge. A gentle stream, rare in Elendor’s climate, washed toads and pebbles- crystal clear to the point of seeing the depth. Heading upstream, one would arrive at a large, for lack of a better word, square. A simple rectangular door beside which the water flowed from gates.
“Wait, wait, wait,” waved a flushed butler, “-hold on ladies,” he gasped, “-king Juvey will be here any minute, have the horses been prepped?”
The trio, excluding the unseen lass, scanned each other, “-no,” said the one in the middle.
“Sawdia, I thought I had asked the interviewees to relay the message?” from hunched to a somewhat straight stance, “-how long will it take?”
“Depends,” she said, “-anywhere from two to three hours, majesty’s particular.”
“Well,” he turned, “-have it be readied before eight.”
.....
“Lady Sawdia,” murmured the attendants, “-it’s going to take longer.”
“I know,” her pace hurried, “-let’s go,” they ran.
“-damned worthless candidates.”
“Now Maria, what is done is done, how many times must I explain, blaming others will only waste time and energy.”
“Rande,” thundered across the palace, “-where are you?” the timid butler who’d barely caught his breath, rummaged mindlessly, those assigned to indoor duties watched sympathetically. The absence of Scorpio brought a tenseness not many could replace,” -RANDE!” Against all odds, the attendants clenched their fists in encouragement. Whispers followed mildly behind the stumped helper, a pull opened the gates to hell, insults and humiliating comments about the lack of competence rained, “-nothing is ever ready,” exclaimed the king, “-pointless servants, I asked for my tea to be served five minutes ago, WHERE IS IT?”
“Pardon my saying,” gasped Rande, “-without the head-maid, everyone’s confused.” A heavy shadow rose from lovely colored seats.
“Are you saying this is my fault?” he glared, “-EVEN IF IT IS,” *smack,* a slap had the man end on a sharp cabinet’s edge, “-DON’T YOU DARE DIRTY THE TILE WITH THE FILTHY BLOOD.” Assisting maids hurdled, scared at the out lash. He glanced, bit his lips “-DAMN IT,” a kick send said couch into the maids’ direction. “-Worthless sacks of meat,” a disgusted side-glance to Rande, “-you,” he pointed, “-if the one thing I asked isn’t ready, you’ll pay with your head.” The heaviness carried into the next room, the bruised workers ran to the badly wounded butler.
“Are you ok?”
“A little lightheaded,” *cough* “-my vision’s red.”
“Obviously,” the sound of torn fabric followed into a sudden pull, “-let’s get you to the medical bay.”
“RANDE!” shattered the moment of solace.
He clambered, droplets of crimson dowsed the tiles, “-I have to go, please, clean the floor for me. I rather die than have my blood on the king’s furniture.”
“RANDEEEE!” the helpless helper, aided by the wall, touched his way to the outside, ‘-I’m sorry, Sawdia, I couldn’t give more time.’ Whispers sparked inside many hidden corners, “-have you heard of the torturer?”
“Yeah, she’s in bad shape. I heard the king spared no mercy in tearing her flesh this time.”
“I heard from the guards that she invited an unwanted guest into the dungeon.”
“Bad idea, the king’s possessive about the playthings.”
“The rumors must be true; I haven’t seen her around.”
“If she’s even alive. So much for being blood-related.”
“Shut it, don’t speak too loudly.”
“My bad, my bad.”
The stunned Sawdia and her comrades halted shy of the gallows, the stables laid a few steps forward, the surrounding was cleaned – in their suspense, the heaviness of Juvey stormed into their vicinity, one assistant quipped by elbowing Sawdia, to which, the maids humbly bowed heads at the king’s entrance. A badly wounded Rande limped, “-has my horse been prepped?” he stopped at the maids.
“Majesty,” huffed Rande, “-I apologize on their behalf. I had the candidates relay the message...”
Juvey said nothing save a mortifying stare, the intent had the knees tremble, ‘-another excuse and its over,’ said the expression. No whisper nor unnecessary chatter in Juvey’s presence. Subtle gestures if transcribed, carried on full-blown conversations.
‘What’s happened?’
‘No idea,’ returned the maids.
‘The wound?’
‘Rage.’
The crowd of fellow interviewees made to and fro across the training grounds, obvious laughter drew the king’s wrath – the body motioned towards the group till a shadow escaped from a shed, “-majesty,” said a bare-chested Igna holding grooming utensils for the horses.
An elbow brought Sawdia’s muffled grunt, ‘-what?’ flashed her face.
‘LOOK,’ rose the eyebrows, ‘-LOOK,’ it pointed towards the energetic lass from before – the latter crouched behind a pyramid of barrels.
“Xen?”
“Pleasure day, is it not, majesty?” he spoke nonchalantly, “-must have woken on the wrong side of the bed,” a few steps closed their distance, “-bloated veins on the forehead aren’t good for your age.”
Therein, horror washed the maids, ‘-does he have a death wish?’ Rande collapsed, the loss of blood waned heavy, none motioned to help the fallen. An unwritten rule said, ‘-if a weak-willed individual falls on accounts of his actions, none is to help.’
“Question,” Juvey hunched onto Igna, “-were you the visitor Lessie took to the dungeon?”
“And if I answer positively?”
“Don’t play games with me, boy.”
“My liege,” he stood his ground, “-technically, I’m not under the royal family’s employment.”
“And?” he remained unshaken, “-you’re on my property.”
“Right, a property where women are raped and men worked to death,” he side-glanced the fallen, “-look at him, he bled out. I could probably save him, but,” he shrugged, “-survival of the fittest.”
“XEN!” a punched snapped for the insolent mouth. Igna expertly palmed the strike, using the pressure to move into the King’s personal space all the while disrupting the balance.
“Majesty,” he stopped at the King’s jaw, “-if playtime is over, I’d like to check storage for medicine, one of the horse’s sick.”
“Impressive,” grunted Juvey, “-care to enlighten this old man to your martial art?”
“No name,” he smiled, “-And please, if it had been real – the shed would have been torn by the pressure.”
“My liege,” in marched the commander in charge of training, “-the recruits are ready for their altitude training. We’re waiting for your orders.”
The pent-up rage subsided, a calmness around Xen lowered the risk of eruption, “-Xen, as representative for Scorpio, I’ll let the whole dungeon debacle go. There’s much which needs my attention – take time and learn the way of the palace. Don’t approach the queen under any circumstances.”
“See,” he interjected, “-saying not to approach the queen gives rise to question. We know how compelling curiosity can be,” an exhale later, “-if his majesty orders, I shall obey.”
“Good,” said a nod, “-Sawdia, put the other candidates through combat training, I want each of them ranked by ability and skill, no killing – anything else goes,” he paused and scanned the blunt attire, “-put some clothes on.”
“My bad,” he chuckled, to which the king responded positively. The combination of commander and king soon took to the military grounds – the lingering shadow vanished.
“By the name of the holy,” exhaled Sawdia, “-I thought I was going to die under the pressure,” they hurried to Rande, “-Xen, is it?”
“Yes,” he followed their lead and squatted at the passed-out butler, “-the wound doesn’t seem to clot. Best to call an ambulance.”
“I remember someone saying he could heal?” suggested one of the two.
“My bad, must have slipped. No matter,” he effortlessly lifted the man in a princess carry, “-care to guide us to the medical room?”
“Sure,” off the beaten path and onto the lush green yard, “-tell me, Xen, you’re not from around here.”
“Should I respond or is it rhetorical?”
“Answer.”
“I’m not from around here, I was called by a friend of mine, Scorpio. Said there was a job opening, I wanted to experience Elendor for myself. The Arcanum always has articles written about how the culture’s changed.”
“Tell me, mister, what are those tattoos about?”
“Initiation to the way of the warrior,” he smiled, “-we’ve been walking for quite a while, no sign of the hospice.”
“Here,” they passed the palace and muddled into the shadows, far behind a grove of trees, a thick and uncared patch of bushes, wild animals, and the occasional growl, “-welcome to the maid quarters,” said Sawdia. A school-like dormitory rose in the thick of the dampened air, nature took its toll, the iron gates barely stood, even so, on stepping inside, the entryway cleared. Benches overlooking a muddied pond, few scattered maids tending to medial tasks. A coat of moss and erosion glazed the paint. Then again, ‘l’apparence est parfois trompeuse’1. The inside radiate cleanliness, “-over here,” led Sawdia. A timid room armed only with beds and a medical cabinet attracted the attention of those in attendance. Differing age and races crowded the doorway – a half-naked man had just entered the dormitory. Not as if it was uncommon; rare was it for someone handsome to make the journey. Sawdia held a passive-aggressive smile, “-thank you for the visit,” she slammed the doors. First aid kit in hand, Igna dove into cleaning and fixing the wound.
“Experienced at first aid?”
“Yeah,” he said and expertly stitched the temples,”-lack of medical knowledge is deadly on the field. Everyone’s taught medical care before entering battle, well, either that or you use magic to heal wounds,” the pressure eased, “-and preferable, most chose magic.”
“Let me bandage him,” offered Sawdia.
“Please,” he retreated and settled on the adjacent bed, “-proper introduction is in order, my name’s Xen.”
“Pleasure, Xen, my name’s Claury,” said the energic younger lass, most of her traits were shielded by a hat – a rounded nose and dark-colored pupils tightly wrapped into an oval-shaped visage.
“Maria,” added one of the two. On first look, sisters or relatives, same-colored hair – dark-brown, and same traits, albeit the chipped front yellowish tooth. A slender figure was hidden under her maid’s uniform. Wasn’t hard to put two and two together, their duties implied more than cleaning, so said the odor.
“Flasie,” said the second, “-we’re sisters,” she smiled and displayed a few of the missing teeth.
“Don’t hold yourself back on our account,” commented Sawdia, “-someone like you has no business in our world. There’s a particular feel, same as the king, even greater, the spirits are happy when you move, they sing and smile, it’s the first time I’ve ever seen them be so agitated.”
“The boon of spiritual sight,” he paused, “-very rare and unique to the elven race.”
“Perceptive,” she turned and touched her ears, the latter grew as for her skin, it rejuvenated.
“Please don’t,” a tap on her shoulder halted the spell, “-not worth risking your lives.”
“Xen, you’re a good man,” she said, “-a strong character. On behalf of my friend, Rande, I give my sincere thanks, lest you’d be interested in taking one of us?”
“No, no,” he refused, “-I rather not.”
.....
“I get it,” shrugged Flasie, “-you think us, repulsive women, for having slept with others?”
“That’s not it,” the gaze narrowed, an air of entrancement lingered under the door, he stood and pushed, “-the fragrance of intoxication,” he reached, strangled and lifted Onte, “-are you an idiot?”
“W-W-W-W,” the grip eased, he dropped, “-don’t get pissy at me,” he scowled, “-I lost a bet with the girls.”
“Well then,” sensing the suspicious aura, “-I’d like to play,” shoulders around Onte who instantly tried to escape, “-move and I kill you,” he murmured, “-let’s get out,” they stepped outside, the abandoned school moved farther till Igna suspicious halted.
A disembodied voice rose the hairs on his back, ‘-Lessie is in pain in the dungeon. Juvey won’t be at the palace till later tonight. Help her, no one else can.’
“Dude, are you ok?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” replied Igna, “-Onte, go on ahead, I have something to take care of.”
“Take this,” he threw a shirt, “-they told me to hand that over. Don’t take too long, we’ll be evaluated soon.”
“I appreciate it.”