A small clearing next to the town was set aside for visiting caravans and wagon trains, allowing camps and accommodations to be set up comfortably, rather than on the side of the road. Every teamster had taken advantage of this rare occasion; wagons were parked haphazardly, each one vying for enough space to have a sense of privacy for once. Fortunately, Werond had managed to fight her way to a spot near the back, some distance away from the rest of the caravan.
Many of the wagon owners had opted to spend the night on the town and finally sleep in a real bed, much to the chagrin of the teamsters, who were stuck guarding supplies and merchandise. By the time Werond and Serena arrived at the entrance of the clearing, many of those stuck at their wagons had fallen asleep, with only a few still warming their feet by the fires that dotted the clearing.
“Any idea where he’d be?” Werond whispered, casting a glance towards the clearing’s edge; the Zultan had parked their carriage on one of the furthest sides of the clearing, with every teamster had given them a wide berth.
“He said my wagon.” Serena signed back.
Werond raised a finger to her lips, only to drop it. “Well, I guess they can’t hear you, huh?”
“Yup!” Serena exclaimed. Werond grinned.
The woods around the clearing stretched out the furthest behind their wagon; the light from the fires was unable to reach deeply within them, causing dark shadows to dance about the trees.
A shiver went down her spine; Serena knew that nothing worth being frightened of lived in those trees, yet that old, childlike fear still remained.
As they approached their wagon, Lord Zultan stepped out from behind a tree, appearing like a villain out of an old storybook that Serena’s mother had once read. He had ditched his typical red dress attire for a simple pair of tunic and pants, though they appeared worse for wear.
“I don’t remember,” Lord Zultan said, brushing his hair behind his ears. “agreeing to meet with your teamster as well.”
“Anything you can tell me, Werond can hear too.” Serena signed.
Zultan sniffed. From the side, Werond sneered at the Drow.
“Well, I suppose I don’t have much room to argue. Suit yourself.”
“Pretty smart choice, especially for an animal abuser.” Werond said. Serena shot her a look, one that Werond ignored.
“Yes, well…one has to have some modicum of sensibility to even reach the surface.” His chest deflated. “Though I suppose I lost that the minute I married that woman.”
“Self-inflicted wound.”
“One that I’ll never hear the end of.”
Werond glanced at Serena. “Did you come here to talk about how terrible his life is?”
Serena shook her head and signed, “Zultan claims he knows my family – well, the Drow side of it. I don’t know anything about them, so he offered to fill in the gaps.”
“Riiiiight. And what does he get out of it?”
“My help, when he ditches his lovely wife.”
“You’ve got the balls to do that?”
“Ladies!” Lord Zultan shushed them. “Please, let us discuss this somewhere private! I looked ahead and found a small clearing, somewhat in the woods. May we talk there?”
Serena and Werond stared at the Drow.
Zultan stared back.
After a moment, he began shifting his weight from one foot to the next.
“I uh…” he said slowly. “suppose that…that sounds a bit ridiculous, asking it aloud. My apologies.”
Werond shook her head, muttering something about men.
“We can talk in our wagon.” Serena signed. “Werond can keep a lookout for your wife and scream if you do something stupid. Deal?”
“Fine.” Lord Zultan nodded, gesturing to her wagon. “After you.”
The three of them clambered into the back, one after another; Werond went in first, coming out the front and laying sideways on the bench, pushing the flaps aside so that she could see into the wagon. Serena seated herself on her pile of silk, while Zultan sat near the back, well away from them.
It had already occurred to Serena that everything Lord Zultan would tell her tonight would be unreliable. She had already let loose that she knew nothing about her Drow side of the family, and it wouldn’t be particularly difficult to make everything up.
Still, it was worth the trouble. Even if the faintest of details was revealed about that, however many years ago, the discussion would be worth it.
“We should be alright.” Zultan said, shifting about until he was comfortable. “The Lady is asleep within the carriage, and our teamsters hold no loyalty to her. Still, I appreciate you keeping an eye out.” He nodded towards Werond, who gave him a grunt.
“Now,” he said, spreading out his hands. “where should I start? House Lash has quite a bit of history behind –”
“You can start by proving you actually know what you’re talking about.” Serena cut in.
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“Ah yes, that would be the most sensible. Well…are you aware of the details of your birth?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s as I asked, are you aware of how you were born?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I am too. Or, at least, I’ve heard about your birth. Perhaps that would be enough?”
Serena nodded. Her mother had filled in the details as best she could, given that Serena was almost six when she asked. Ned, having asked himself long before she could walk, had filled in the gaps much later.
“Well from what I remember, your birth was quite the event. Relations with house slaves was not uncommon – everyone participated in them – but to keep the child? I mean nothing when I say this, but had you been born to any other family, you would have been murdered the moment you arrived into this world. From what I understand, House Lash didn’t care for half-breeds; they saw them as just another tool, albeit ‘disabled’ in their eyes, lacking full Drow ancestry. The matron mother, Venveil, held no qualms with keeping you, but you’d have been a piece in…well, all those political games that we love to spin. And back-breaking labor, of course. Vorn, your father, didn’t like that. Always was a soft one. So, he left; took your mother with him and fled the Underdark. I haven’t the faintest idea what happened afterwards, but Venveil didn’t seem to care much, she had much larger issues do deal with. Nor the rest of the house, for that matter, although some were saddened to see him leave.” Lord Zultan paused, scratching his chin. “Does that…fall in line with what you know?”
“Ah…” Serena signed slowly, staring off above Zultan’s head. “yeah, that’s…about right.”
She had heard the same story before, once from her mother, and multiple times from Ned. That House Lash, surprised at one of their members fathering a half-breed, planned on using Serena and her mother as continued labor. Lord Zultan’s story lined up, and yet…
“Mom and Ned both said what you said, about keeping me. But Dad didn’t just leave because I was born, there were people chasing him. Some people, or someone I guess, wanted him dead. Was that…Venveil?”
“Oh no, Venveil wouldn’t want Vorn dead. From what I heard, your birth angered her greatly, but she never wanted to kill either of you. No one from House Lash did. Not out of sympathy or pity, mind you. No one truly cared, as you’d end up being another source of labor. As to who would want Vorn dead…I imagine it could be anyone from the other houses. The Do’Ates despise your house, but they were mostly wiped out in their last skirmish. I doubt they’d send out assassins or the sort.” Zultan shrugged. “I wish I could tell you. I honestly haven’t a clue. That’s new information to me, that he’s being chased.”
“Huh.” Was the only word Serena could sign.
For most of her life she had struggled with being removed from her mother’s tiny inn, up in Mirabar. And try as she might, Serena never seemed to come close to uncovering why she was forced to leave. Her father was being chased, that much was certain. But by who? Who would want her father dead enough to force her to leave?
She was under no pretense that she’d receive that answer tonight. And yet, part of her still clung to a small hope that she would.
Lord Zultan cleared his throat. Serena snapped her attention back to him.
“Sorry, I…thinking things over.”
“Of course, of course.” The Lord said. “Now, while I can’t help you further on that…is there anything else you’d like to know? I want to ensure that our deal remains in place.”
Serena rolled her eyes. “Yeah yeah, I’m not planning on going back on it.”
“Just being safe.”
Serena raised her hands, then dropped them.
Fidgeting, she ran a hand down the ponytail of hair that lay against her chest.
Werond clucked her tongue. “Spit it out, boss.”
“Can you tell me about Dad?” Serena blurted out. “It sounds like you know him…or of him, I guess.”
Lord Zultan cocked an eyebrow, then nodded.
“I suppose I could. What did you want to know?”
“I uh…well, as much as you know.” Serena shifted about. “Dad wasn’t really…there all the time.”
“Hey, don’t feel embarrassed,” Werond said, glancing into the wagon. “my dad wasn’t there too.”
Serena shot another look at Werond, who turned back towards the clearing, chuckling quietly.
“Well…hmm, where to begin?” Zultan asked, staring up at the wagon cover. “I know that your mother met him young. They were both young…and stupid. Perhaps that’s why they fell in love.”
“I know that. Mom had me early.”
“How young was she?”
“Uhm…she’s forty-three now. So…twenty-three?”
“I see. I believe Vorn was somewhat older, but only by a couple of years. Well, for a Drow.”
“I don’t –”
“Wait!” Werond exclaimed, twisting to fully face the pair. “You’re only twenty?!”
Serena glanced at her in confusion. “Yeah. Just had my birthday a couple months ago.”
Werond stared with wide eyes. She turned back and leaned against the armrest of the bench, gazing off into the forest; on one hand, she counted to seven and grimaced.
“Anyways,” Serena signed to Lord Zultan. “I know Dad was young for a Drow back then. What was…what was he like?”
“A helpless romantic.” Zultan grinned as Serena narrowed her eyes, a first for him. “It’s the truth. He truly was the black sheep of the family, well before he had you. There were two aspects that I noticed about him, from the moment I began work with the Lash family. One,” Zultan raised one boney finger, “he was quiet. And two,” another finger, “he did not agree with how business was run. Venveil – as I’m sure you’ve guessed – held a practical view of the world. Ironically, this made her more merciful then say, any other house. But that didn’t mean she refused to push slaves and workers to their limits, trying to squeeze every ounce of work out of them. Vorn didn’t agree with that. Yes, he went on raids and enslaved surface dwellers. Yes, he forced them to work. But Vorn held a very backwards view, in that he believed that kindness and generosity went a long way with the slaves. His set of slaves were always well rested, always well fed, much to the disappointment of Venveil. This made him…well, quite the outcast. “Kindness goes a long way”, he used to say.” Zultan smirked. “Didn’t do him much good.”
“How so?”
“Venveil didn’t agree. She –”
“Ah fuck,” Werond said quietly, waving a hand at the pair. “that bitch just stepped out of your carriage.”
“Then it’s time I leave.” Lord Zultan said, immediately swinging his legs and hopping out of the wagon. “Though I haven’t the faintest clue why she’s up.”
“Wait!” Serena crawled towards him, wagon shaking as Werond hopped over the bench and climbed in. “You weren’t finished!”
“And as much as I wish to continue, I do value my life. We’ll continue later, I promise.”
Zultan smiled, not unkindly, before giving a shallow bow.
Turning on his heel, he marched off into the trees, and disappeared from sight.
Serena remained where she was, shocked by how fast the Drow had disappeared. She tried to catch a glimpse of where Zultan had gone, as Werond crawled next to her, gazing out with her.
“Well that was quite the exit.” She said. “Have to say, he puts up a pretty good front if that’s who he normally is.”
“I…” Serena leaned back on her knees. “I guess.”
Werond glanced at her with a sympathetic smile. “Didn’t get what you wanted, huh?”
“No. I didn’t think I would but…I still hoped. Does that sound childish?”
“Nope. The only thing childish about you is your age.” Werond reached over and messed up Serena’s hair. “To think that a kid was in charge of my pay this whole time!”
Serena slapped Werond’s hand away, suppressing a smile.
“Sure, make fun of the kid who can stop paying you!”
“You wouldn’t do that, you’re too nice.”
“Watch me!”
Werond laughed and crawled over to her pile of silk. “Well, I won’t push my luck.” She stretched out, grunting with effort. “I think I’m calling it. No point in going back to the bar.”
Serena followed suit, and flopped down on her own pile, brushing her hair out of her eyes.
“You’ll figure it out soon enough.” Werond said, pulling a thin sheet over herself.
Serena nodded, and hopped that Werond was right.