Chapter Fifty-Five

Ahmarantha considered himself to be exceptional in his luck. Where the attendants delivered the soldiers of the Black Quivers to a barracks, and the other elves were delivered down into what amounted to an underground cellar, he was taken by Micah to the horse stables. It was a sizable structure by any standard and easily held the carts of the merchant and the wagons and every horse in the Black Quiver company. “You know how to tend the animals, don’t you?”

“Yessir.” Ahmarantha said and went straight for the horse brush on the wall.

“Good.” Micah looked toward the covered piece of ground where the staff instructed the other laborers to go. He rubbed the back of his head while he looked at the latch that kept them locked within. They hadn’t expressed any dismay or surprise at what to him looked more like a live burial than proper quarters.

“Your-” He hesitated, “your people. Are they comfortable like that? Underground, I mean?”

Even Ahmarantha wasn’t sure what prompted his answer to come out as it did, though if forced to guess it was the recent offer to act as the champion of the captives if it came to a trial. But whatever the cause, he answered, “Would you be, sir?”

Micah pursed his lips tight and kept his eyes on the passage into the underground. “What’s it like down there? Do you know?”

“I’ve never been, personally, sir. But I have talked with some elves who lived in those places. It’s very dark, so dark that even our eyes struggle sometimes. It is cool, which isn’t so bad in summer, but it gets a lot worse in summer. Workers sweat a lot, and most of the time those aren’t really very big unless the ones living down there are allowed to make it bigger themselves. If they’re not, it’s crowded, no room to properly lie down. No privacy, just dirt that gets in everything and all over you… some of the kinder ones give blankets, most don’t. Most elves who live down there, they consider it hell. At least the ones I’ve talked with.”

Micah nodded. “If I opened that up, would this maybe pose any problems… if I were to let some light in?”

“They,” Ahmarantha pointed to the establishment’s entrance, “probably wouldn’t like it. I talked to one of our women once who came from a place like this, underground passages and quarters are common so that we’re not observed when not in direct service. That one is made to blend in with the landscape, having it open for no reason would probably raise questions. Maybe get your mistress into… well… not trouble. But maybe get her a talking to.”

Micah broke into a sudden laugh. “I’d feel bad for them for trying… she may be a bad one, but shutting someone in the dark to keep the aesthetic wouldn’t be something she’d find acceptable…” He sighed a little and said, “But… still…”

He thought in quiet while Ahmarantha began brushing down the nearest horse.

“Let them out. There’s a hundred horses here, you need help, right?” Micah suggested, “Let them out and have them assist you, just… have them do it slowly. They’ll be out of the way in the stable”

“Even though they tried to kill your friends…?” Ahmarantha snapped his jaw shut when the words left his mouth and he cursed himself for letting his tongue slip.

“If my Commander is willing to fight for them… there must be a reason, and this won’t cost anything. Go ahead, let them out and set them to work here, out of the way, nobody should bother them until nightfall. I’ll have some food sent out here and let this…’establishment’ know you’ll be working in the stables for now.”

“Th-Thank you.” Ahmarantha replied, dropping the brush from his hand, he went to unlatch the cover on the pit in the ground, but he heard no response in kind as Micah walked away.

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“So…” Skana looked around the room, it truly was the definition of luxury, a carpet, a private bath with its own pump, even a bottle of wine sitting in a basket beside some uncut cheese, but in her mind, it was also unpardonably dull. “Is there, I don’t know…”

“This is uncomfortable for you, my lady?” Illyana asked, and it was hard to resist the urge to laugh at the woman in front of her after everything that had just been discussed.

“Yes. I never thought I’d have to say this, but could you maybe put something on? A robe or something.” Skana said and then added, “And is there anything to do?”

Illyana gave a quick nod and rushed into the bathing room. She was gone for only a moment before she emerged with a robe of golden silk which she bound around her waist. “Is that better, my lady? Should I call you that, or do you prefer, mistress or…”

“Skana. Just ‘Skana.’ I’m nobody’s ‘lady’ and since you can pretty well get me killed at any time, we’re on even terms, right?” Skana asked, and Illyana could only incline her head affirmatively at that.

“Will the other one be back?” Illyana asked and cast a lingering eye at the door.

Skana thought it over for a moment and answered with quiet, patient words. “I think so. She’s stubborn, I haven’t known her personally for all that long, but by reputation, bull headed doesn’t begin to describe her. You’ve opened her eyes I think. Not just you,” Skana added and turned her own eyes toward the door as well, “but other things, little things and big things along the way. You were the straw that snapped the wagon’s axle. What that will mean next, I don’t know, but… defiance like that blunted the Demon God’s campaign.”

“So why? Why does it matter to you? Why give a shit about an elf you’ve never met, or any of us at all…?” Illyana asked and was surprised to see a shimmering of twin pools in Skana’s eyes when the woman looked at her again.

“I told you enough to get me killed already. I’d tell you more if I could. But some things… some things I’ll take to my grave. I’m a peasant born in the dirt of a filthy hovel no different from the homes of anyone else around me. I can’t properly read yet, I can’t properly write yet, I can barely count. But if I could write the things I’ve done to stay alive, people would burn me at the stake after reading it. If they could count them out, they’d burn my ashes just to make sure I couldn’t even be buried. I don’t have any right to be above anyone, or beside anyone… I just wanted to live though… I just wanted to live… that’s what I told myself.”

Skana swallowed the lump in her throat, “So maybe this is my way of making up for living such a shit life. Nobody should have to go lower than me… ever since I saw what someone should really be, I wanted to be like that. So… I try to see you like I’d see me… and do what I’d want done for me… same as it was then when I didn’t deserve any of it.”

“Is that why you think you can trust me to keep your secret?” Illyana asked and appraised the human in front of her all over again.

Skana let out a bitter snort. “No. If you do tell her what I said, then that’s just me getting the end I deserve, if the last bit of my life is to give someone worse off than me a bit of feeling good about getting some revenge on people, so be it. I have no idea if I made a mistake or not, but I think I did the right thing whether it gets me killed or not.”

Illyana took that in and kept her appraisal of the woman going, she sought any hint of lie or deception in the woman in front of her, and found absolutely none. Though what the peasant had done to be so sure she deserved to die a long time ago was impossible to guess, it didn’t matter. What did matter was that there was no evident lie in anything she said.

Skana took a deep breath and gave her head a vigorous shake like she was a dog casting off water droplets and said as if none of that had passed between them, “So, is there anything to do around here? Other than…” She looked toward the bed and cleared her throat.

Illyana brightened up and went to a drawer, “Not every single human ever to come here has been a vile monster. Some, they come here because their parents take them in as a kind of present. Or they are pressured by what passes for friends. Or maybe they come willingly but then can’t bring themselves to go forward. When that happens, to fill the time, some of us invented this.” She reached into a drawer and brought out a stack of thin wood wrapped in twine.

“What’s that?” Skana asked and cocked her head a little.

“We call them ‘cards.’ We marked them with pictures and numbers, then we… well let me explain how the games work, just take a seat…” Illyana raised her head and said with a genuine smile on her face, “Skana.”

Within minutes the cards were flying back and forth on the table as the pair vied against one another, and the more they played, the more Illyana won. ‘She’s really not going to get angry about me winning… this is real… I don’t understand it all yet… but something is different…’ Illyana told herself as minutes became hours, until finally Speranzi entered the room, interrupting the shuffling of the cards with the closing of the door and the words…

“You win the bet, Skana. I hate this place…this city is vile.”