Serena let out a silent huff and tossed the last bit of silk away from her. The wind drifted through the wagon, carrying the fabric up and out the back, until it fluttered out of sight.
Serena sat cross-legged on a small stack of silk and stared at the bundles that lay strewn about. Of the seemingly endless amount of silk that the merchant had bought, Serena had only salvaged enough to make small bed spots for her and Werond. The rest, she realized, had been moth-eaten beyond recognition, and served no purpose save the campfires they helped start each night.
Her shoulders slumped. She had hoped to sell the fabric once they reached Waterdeep. Perhaps the merchant had been hasty in his choice to abandon his stock, and there still was some fabric worth selling. Barring that, Serena had hoped to take the unused portions and have a tailor fashion a dress from them. She liked the color – a snow white that reminded her of winters in Mirabar – and thought it would make the perfect lounge dress…if she ever had the time to wear one.
Uncurling her legs, Serena stretched out onto her silk pile, arching her back until the stiffness left her body. Despite the wasted effort, she was happy that she’d finally gotten through all of it. It had taken her weeks to examine each bundle – one bundle measured over fifty yards – but she was glad it was finally over.
Frustration welled up in her chest.
Serena rolled onto her front and pressed her face into the silk.
What was she to do now?
The Trade Way had been remarkably quiet for some time, and everyone was growing bored. Even the guards were looking for something to do, their hands darting to their weapons at the slightest breeze. Serena felt herself lucky that she had something that held her interest for so long and had even bragged to the others about it. However, now that the silk was accounted for, she hadn’t a clue how to occupy the hours until dinner, save staring out across the grass fields, or talking with Werond.
Her heart jumped. Serena squeezed her eyes shut as her face began to warm.
Damn that teamster.
They were no longer boss and subordinate, something that Serena had pushed for. But while she was glad that Werond was comfortable around her, all she did now was make Serena embarrassed with the little things Werond said. Whether it was little compliments here and there or actively seeking her out at dinner, Serena couldn’t go one conversation without her ears burning. And all to Werond’s amusement. Every time Serena felt her ears light up, Werond always gave her a tiny smirk, as if she had won an argument.
It was irritating, unprofessional, and downright rude.
And yet…
Something about talking with Werond still made Serena excited. While she was always happy to meet new people, those feelings always faded away once she began to know them. That wasn’t the case with her teamster. Werond was easy to talk to, and while her jabs of compliments were annoying, Werond still made Serena giddy – well, more nervous than giddy.
Serena had no idea why. She wished the feeling would go away.
She leaned her head up and rested her chin against the silk. That wasn’t true. She liked those feelings of excitement that Werond gave her. Made her more fun to talk to then Pavel, or anyone else.
Serena rolled onto her back, then frowned.
While she wrestled with her thoughts, she had felt the wagon begin to slow, until now, it stopped completely. She waited for a moment, before pushing herself up, and poking her head outside.
The caravan stood at a standstill, all the wagons in a straight line, one after the other. Teamsters and owners began poking their heads out, looking towards the front, then to one another, then back to the front. No one could see what the problem was.
Werond leaned over the side, muttering something under her breath. Her eyes flicked to Serena, causing her heart to beat a little faster.
“No clue.” She said, before Serena could raise her hands, and jumped off the wagon. Serena clambered onto the bench and hopped off with her. “You don’t suppose it’s the Drow, do you?”
“Are they at the front?” Serena asked.
“Last I checked.”
Some wagon owners had dismounted and walked off the side of the road, into the grass fields. Some of them began pointing towards the front, and muttering to each other in low voices. Werond followed suit and craned her head.
“Yeah, that’s their wagon. What’s the –” She gasped, starting Serena. “Oh gods, one of their horses collapsed!”
Serena jogged to Werond and stood beside her.
The second wagon from the front – more ornate than the others – had one of its horses on its knees, held upright only from the harness. Even from a distance, Serena could see the sweat pouring from its body; the beast’s head sagged and brushed the ground, eyes closed.
Pavel, along with the three other front guards, had dismounted, and stood around the collapsed animal. He had pulled his helmet off, and was gesturing at the horse; he spoke quickly, but neither he nor the other guards moved towards it.
“By Deneir, did they drive it to exhaustion?!” Werond asked.
“How would that happen?” Serena signed. Werond shook her head.
“I - I don’t know, are they -”
The door to the carriage slammed open.
A Drow, white hair slicked back, stepped out from inside the carriage. His red dress jacket looked ruffled, with the white undershirt pulled from his waist.
Serena blinked. She had never seen the Drow that rode in the caravan with them, but she had heard their names; Lord and Lady Zultan.
The Lord’s face contorted into a sneer as he looked over the collapsed horse. He yanked free a whip from his belt and uncoiled it as he marched over; Pavel and the guards stepped back as Lord Zultan drew near.
“He’s not -” Werond began.
The Lord raised the whip, and with a flick, cracked it across the horse’s back. The animal jerked and let loose a piercing whine.
Werond gasped. The teamsters nearest to the Drow flinched and backed away.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Lord Zultan’s face contorted further, and he raised the whip again. Pavel stepped over to the Drow and stood beside him; he gestured wildly to the horse but made no move to stop the whip from biting again. The horse screamed long and hard, causing those closest to cover their ears.
Werond grabbed Serena’s arm and squeezed enough to make it ache.
“No no no no,” she stammered; her eyes were wide, and all color had drained from her face. “He can’t do - he shouldn’t do that! He’ll kill it!”
The Drow brought the whip down again, cutting a dark red gash across the animal’s back. The horse screamed and writhed in its harness.
Werond yelled and squeezed tighter.
Pavel switched his gestures to the Drow. Lord Zultan barely glanced at him before bringing the whip down a fourth time. Pavel talked faster and began looking to the other guards; Lord Zultan continued to ignore him, sneering at the bleeding animal.
“Serena,” Werond gasped out, “do something, please! Pavel’s not – and” she flinched as the whip came down again; the horse made no noise. “Oh gods, please, make him stop, something, I can’t…” Tears filled her eyes as she squeezed Serena’s arm harder.
Serena stood still; she knew Pavel had the authority to stop the Drow, she wasn’t needed. But that didn’t explain why he refused to grab Zultan and stop him, or why none of the other guards moved to help.
Blood ran down the horse’s back, soaking the road under it.
The Drow raised the whip again, anger still painted across his face.
Pavel had his palms up, as though he were pleading.
Serena cursed silently and yanked herself free from Werond. Taking three steps forward, she raised a hand, her fingers twitching.
Fire erupted from her palm – narrow as a bolt and brighter than a star – and screeched violently through the air.
It smashed into Lord Zultan’s hand, ripping the whip from his grasp. He screamed shrilly, causing Pavel to jump back; he whipped his head towards Serena, a look of horror painted across his face.
The other guards shed their roots and jogged over to the Drow, who now stood clutching his smoking hand. Serena covered the distance to Lord Zultan, only to stop as a guard barred her way.
Zultan let loose a curse and whirled on Serena from behind him.
“How dare you strike me!” he spat, fury boiling in his eyes. “Fucking ignorant surface rats like you need to learn your place -”
“Silence!” Serena signed; her voice boomed in Undercommon, causing Lord Zultan to flinch and step back, his mouth twitching in poorly disguised shock. “You come to the surface and refuse to follow customs?! How dare you stop this caravan to whip a pack animal! I should cut you down where you stand!”
“Brave words for the surface whore.” The Drow hissed. “Said only when someone else protects you!”
Serena shoved her way around the guard and stood within inches of Lord Zultan. Heat rose within her as she signed just under the Drow’s nose.
“Larger words from the slave. I’m surprised your voice is so deep since your master surely has castrated you by now.” Serena narrowed her eyes. “Or are you so unimportant that she can’t be bothered?”
Lord Zultan opened and closed his mouth; his gaze flicked towards Serena’s neck, and his eyes grew wide.
Serena began to sign again before Pavel grabbed her and gently pulled her away.
“I haven’t a clue what either of you just said,” he said, “but now is not the time to be at each other’s throats.”
Serena whirled on Pavel; her hands shook enough that she could barely sign.
“Why didn’t you stop him?!” she yelled; Pavel winced. “You just…stood there!”
“Serena I can’t touch him –”
“Why not?!”
“They paid too much money, the organizers said –”
The door to the carriage slammed open again. Serena stiffened, and Pavel took a step back.
Lady Zultan ducked under the frame and stepped out. Her red dress shone bright against the pitch of her skin, and her white hair was pulled back with a black band. An air of superiority radiated from her, causing Serena’s heart to jump. Just from the way she walked, it was obvious that Lady Zultan spared no time for those under her.
Contempt flashed in her crimson eyes, as she surveyed the commotion outside her carriage. She placed a manicured hand against her hip and leaned her weight on one foot.
“What is the meaning of this?” the Lady asked harshly. “I issue one order, and everyone believe it to be their business. Guard!” she barked towards Pavel. “Get these people under control, I have somewhere to be.”
Pavel turned away from Serena, his palms out to Lady Zultan. “Ma’am I’m trying to sort the situation out. We will move as soon as –”
“Get this caravan moving guard, or there will be consequences.” The Lady hissed through her teeth.
The shock of seeing the other Drow fled Serena, as her body began to shake again. She clenched her fists, gritted her teeth, and stalked over to the Drow.
As she did, Lord Zultan stiffened. Pavel moved beside Serena; his hands were ready to grab her.
“You told your slave to whip that horse?” Serena asked.
The Lady glanced at her as though Serena were a fly buzzing about her head.
“This doesn’t concern you girl.” She said, before turning towards Pavel.
Serena stepped in between them, blocking the Lady’s path. Lady Zultan’s eyes narrowed.
“It does when you stop our entire caravan for an asinine order.” Serena switched to Undercommon, causing the Lady to curl a lip. “Have you no shame?! Killing an animal you drove to exhaustion?! You stand on the surface, yet you know of no way to conform, to blend in, and wonder why they call you monsters.”
“The surface should conform to us girl!” Lady Zultan spat back. “How dare you stand before me and make such ridiculous claims! I should order your death for your audacity!”
“You can try” Serena growled, “but Lolth will laugh when I send you to Hell.”
Barely restrained fury filled the Lady’s face; she raised a hand as if to strike Serena.
Pavel shoved himself between the pair. Behind him, the guards’ hands flew to their weapons.
Lady Zultan flicked her gaze towards them, then back to Serena.
Serena sneered, and stepped as close as Pavel would let her.
The Lady’s face contorted with outrage, and she dropped her hand; she whipped her head towards her other half.
“Vanet! Cut the horse from the carriage and get us moving! Now!”
Lord Zultan nodded quickly, and sprang over to the horses, yanking a knife from his belt as he did. Serena removed herself from behind Pavel; she stepped over and slapped his hand, causing him to violently flinch and back away.
Lord Zultan watched with fury as Serena placed her hands on the horse’s back; a dull, sliver light spread from them and the slash marks across the animal slowly healed.
“Serena,” Pavel said, once again standing next to her. He placed a hand on her shoulder and tugged gently. “that’s not your horse to do that to, you need to stop.” Serena shot Pavel an annoyed look but kept her hands on the horse. Pavel tugged again, only to drop his hand.
The slashes across the horse’s back closed, and the light from Serena’s hands faded. Slowly, the horse hoisted itself from the ground, and Serena swore she saw relief across its face. She waved her hand and the blood disappeared with a small sucking noise.
Serena glared at the Lord, before pivoting on her heel, and stalking back towards her wagon. As she did, the crowd of teamsters and owners around them quickly turned and fled back to their wagons. From behind Serena, Lady Zultan screamed at Lord Zultan to get the carriage moving, causing the rest of the guards to scatter.
Serena sucked in a breath as she made her way back to the wagon.
She shouldn’t have done that, any of that. Regardless of Pavel or the guard’s cowardice towards the Drow, Serena knew that she only made more problems for herself by interfering. Pavel would be forced to reprimand her once they stopped for the night. And it was only a matter of time before the Zultan’s devised something to remove her from the caravan.
Or worse.
Serena shook her head. She’d deal with it when the problem presented itself, and not a moment before. She had had her fill of excitement for the day…and perhaps the week.
Werond remained where Serena had left her. Her eyes were glassy, a hand over her mouth. Serena waved at her.
“Sorry, that took –”
Werond slammed into Serena and pulled her into a tight embrace. Serena froze, eyes wide, her hands shoved into her chest.
“Oh gods, thank you!” Werond said, pulling Serena tighter. “Gods that poor horse – thank you Serena, I can’t stand something like that, I…” She pulled back, as two tears rolled down her face. “I don’t know what I’d do if he had died. Thank you, so much.”
Heat rose in Serena’s cheeks, until her face began to sweat. She dropped her hands and nodded.
Werond wiped a hand across her face and glanced at the front of the caravan. “Shit, we’re moving again, sorry – I didn’t mean to get like that.”
She turned and climbed back onto the bench and offered a hand to Serena.
Serena stared at it for a moment; she nodded, stepped forward, and accepted the help. As soon as Werond pulled her aboard the wagon, Serena scrambled over the bench and into the back, flinging herself down on her pile of silk.
She lay face down for a moment, before rolling over onto her back.
Slowly, Serena raised her hand and pinched the tip of her ear, shocked at how hot it was.
She covered her face and kicked her legs against the wooden floor of the wagon.
Damn that woman.