The Awakened: Book One (28 page)

“Yes, ma’am,” the slave woman replied, coming in from the hallway.

“Is Lemus gone?” she whispered, tilting her head toward the window.

The woman walked to the window and peered out.  “Yes, ma’am,” she answered after a few seconds.  “Shall I fetch him for you?”

“No,” Maeryn answered quickly, wondering if the slave woman was being facetious.  “I was thinking that I would like to have fish this evening for dinner.  I would like you to go into the city and buy some from a certain fisherman.”

“But, ma’am, we have plenty of fish here.”  Zula was obviously confused.

“Yes, I know, but he is a friend of the family and it has been a long time since he has heard from us.  I am also going to send a letter for you to deliver to this man.”  Maeryn motioned for the writing utensils on a nearby desk and Zula quickly brought a quill along with a sheet of parchment and an ink pot.

“Thank you,” she said as the woman handed her the items.  “Give me a few minutes to write the letter and then you can go into the city.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Zula said and left the room to finish what she was working on before she was called.

Maeryn dipped the quill in the ink and paused to look at the baby. 
One day, I’ll be able to tell you who your real father is.
  And we won’t be forced to live a lie.  She looked back to the parchment and began to write.

I have recently become aware of information that may be of some use to you.  There is a shipment coming to
Bastul
at midnight, two days from now.  There are rumors that the Resistance has made plans to attack the shipment as it reaches its destination.  I can assure you that measures are being taken to solve this problem and the attack will likely be unsuccessful.  Your lives will be at great risk should you choose to continue with this course of action.  I have heard from a reliable source that the armory will be emptied of all but two men on the night of the shipment to deal with this rumored threat.  Perhaps the cargo of the ship is not as important as the contents of the armory to a movement such as yours.

Maeryn blew on the ink and folded the parchment into thirds.  When she was finished, she noticed Zula standing in the doorway.  “Would you please seal this with Adair’s symbol?” she asked as she handed the letter to the woman.

Zula nodded.  “I will be back in a few hours.  Do you need anything else while I am in the city?”

“No thank you, just the fish.”

As Zula turned to leave, Maeryn felt a pang of guilt.  “Zula…”

“I know, ma’am.  He won’t ever know.  I’ll be careful.”  She gave a knowing smile and left the room.

* * * *

The jostling of the wagon stopped, waking Saba from his uneasy sleep.  For a moment, he forgot where he was, but the aching in his joints quickly reminded him. 
Why have we stopped?
  He couldn’t see anything with the covering over his head, so he sat still, waiting to see what his captors would do.  He had been in the back of this wagon for close to a week now, or so he guessed.  Several times a day they would stop and allow him to get out and walk around.  It was during these times that Saba was able to relieve himself. 
But it’s too soon since the last break!
  Saba began to grow nervous.

To his left, Saba heard the sound of metal grating on metal.

“Get out,” one of his captors said.

Saba
tried his best to comply with the command, but his body was stiff.  Once out of the wagon, the man placed a hand on Saba’s shoulder and pushed him forward.  Saba’s heart began to beat louder as he anticipated something terrible.

“Where are we going?” he mumbled through the gag in his mouth.

“Huh?  Did you say something?  It sounds like you have something in your mouth.”  Laughter broke out from the other two men who were following at a safe distance, probably waiting for Saba to try and run.

He didn’t bother.  He didn’t repeat his question either.

The ground under his feet suddenly became smoother and the stranger pulled on Saba’s shoulder to stop him.  He briefly heard the creaking sound of wood and then they were moving again.  After a few minutes he stopped Saba, reaching up to the back of his neck to untie the bag.

“Welcome to your new home,” he said, as he lifted the covering off of Saba’s head.

After seeing nothing but darkness for a week, the light was intense.  Saba could only open his eyes for seconds at a time.  What he did manage to see was a fenced area of well-trodden soil, containing a few buildings, one of which was directly ahead of them.  Saba spat his gag onto the dirt, then took a deep breath.  The air was cold, but smelled clean and damp and the soil under his feet showed signs of recent rain.  He quickly noticed that his captors were not dressed the same as the cloaked men who had attacked him in the city of
Orud
.  These men wore black as well, but were garbed like soldiers with long-sleeved leather tunics and trousers that reached down to their calves.

“In you go,” he said and pushed Saba toward the nearest building.

One of the soldiers ran ahead and opened a wooden door in the stone structure.  Once inside, Saba’s eyes could relax, though there wasn’t much to look at once his eyesight returned.  Along the right side of the building was a long narrow room with a fire pit in the floor on the far end.  A few crudely built chairs surrounded the pit with others arranged near a table in the corner.  Along the left side were thick wooden doors with narrow viewing slots carved into them at eye level.  The three men walked Saba down to the far end of the building and opened the last door, pushing him inside.

“Make yourself comfortable,” said one of the soldiers as the others laughed.  The door was shut and locked, and once again, Saba was alone.  A quick look around the room was all that was needed to take inventory of his surroundings.  There were no windows, only a small cot and a hole in the floor that smelled of urine.  Saba walked over to the cot and inspected it with a probing hand. 
I think I’ll stand.

The next few days were as uneventful as his trip in the back of the wagon.  They fed him regularly and kept the fire going outside of his room, so that the chill night air never made it to his cell.  It was the inconsistency of the situation that confused him most. 
What do they want from me?  Why keep me locked up, and yet tend to all my basic needs?
  It didn’t make any sense.  Saba set his pondering aside at the sound of voices.  Footsteps preceded the sound of jingling keys and suddenly, the door was open.

“Come on, old man, it’s your turn,” said a soldier whom he hadn’t seen before.

“My turn for what?”

The guard smiled.  “You have a big day tomorrow, don’t you want to look your best?  You don’t have a choice in the matter anyway.  Come on, get out of your cell,” he said before Saba had the chance to answer.

Saba
was escorted back the way he entered the building.  On his right, he heard sounds coming out of the other cells.  He tried to remember if there were people in the cells when he came in, but before he could recall, the door opened and the guard pushed him outside.

The chill in the air made him feel instantly awakened.  For the first time, Saba got a good look at the place where he was being held prisoner.  It was a compound with several stone buildings that appeared to be randomly placed within a high stone wall surrounding a dirt courtyard. 
Although the term ‘courtyard’ is usually reserved for more hospitable surroundings.

A thin fog obscured most of what was beyond the wall, but a few trees which stood close to the wall could be seen.  Saba noted that they were some variety of pine, which meant that they must have traveled north from
Orud
and had climbed a considerable amount in elevation.

“Keep moving,” the guard said in a bored tone.

Saba
got the impression that these men were either being paid to do what they were doing or else they were just following orders.  They didn’t express any malice toward him, in fact, he felt almost ignored, but for the attention needed to prevent his escape. 
Like watching animals.

They walked across the courtyard toward a building that looked much like the one Saba had been sleeping in for the past few days, except for a small wing that extended off the main structure at an angle.  As they approached the extension, the door opened and a guard led another old man from the room and the two began walking in the opposite direction.  When they passed, Saba could see that the man’s head had been shaved as well as his face.  Neither guard said anything as they passed each other, as if they had done this a hundred times already.

Saba
was pushed through the doorway and into a small room with a wooden floor that sloped downward toward a center drain.  One man was sweeping gray hair off of the floor while another was setting down a bucket of soapy water with a rag draped over the side.  Saba’s escort pushed him toward a chair that sat in the center of the room.

“Take off your clothes and sit,” he commanded.

Saba
looked at the man with raised eyebrows.

“Hurry up, I don’t have all day.”

Saba
unfastened his belt and pulled his tunic over his head, tossing both to the side of the room.  He had just settled into his chair when he noticed the silence.  He looked around at the three men and received suspicious looks in return. 
Why are they acting so strange?
  The man who had been sweeping left the room and came back with two more guards.  There were now five men in the room and four of them stood guard around the perimeter while the first guard stepped closer to Saba with a short blade in his hand.

“Now don’t move.  I don’t want to hurt you, but this thing will take your ear clean off if you’re not careful.”

Saba
nodded that he understood and sat still while the guard rubbed soap suds into his hair and proceeded to shave his head.  He watched the hair that used to fall down to his shoulders drift toward his feet and onto the floor.  It only took a few minutes before the man was done and moved around in front of Saba.

“Put your head back,” the man said carefully.

Saba
obeyed, tilting his head back while another man started on his beard.

“You know, I could do that myself?” Saba offered.

“And let you get your hands on this razor?  That doesn’t sound like a good idea to me.  Now shut your mouth so I don’t accidentally cut your throat.”

Saba
closed his mouth and tried to keep as still as he could.  Shaving his beard took longer than shaving his head, but before long, the man was finished.

“Take that bucket and wash yourself.  And hurry up, we’re running late.”

Saba
got to his feet and walked over to the bucket, rinsing his head and face first.  After scrubbing himself with the rag, he tipped the bucket over his head and let the cold water wash over his skin.  Despite the shocking temperature, it felt refreshing to bathe for the first time in weeks.  “Do I get something to dry off with?” he asked, setting down the bucket.  When he looked up at the men, they were all staring at him again.  “What do you keep looking at?” he growled, not able to tolerate the awkwardness.

“How old are you?” one of the men asked.

“Old.  Why?”

A different man answered this time.  “You sure don’t look that old.”  He looked back to the man who had performed the shaving.  “We might have made a mistake with this one.”

“Never mind,” the guard said, putting down the razor and handing Saba a towel.  “Dry off and put your clothes back on.”

Chapter 17