Remembered (2 page)

T
he next morning
land was sighted, and Galia could have leapt for joy. Though it was a desert, and as desolate a place as she’d ever seen, it was solid. They put in at a busy dock, were herded through a dusty boardwalk, and lined up at the edge of the dirty, little town. They were given old, musty fabric that they could use to shield themselves from the relentless sun, and were marched in a long column into the barren mountains. They wore no chains. Escape into the wilderness would only mean death.

Galia kept Mina in front of her, adjusting her pale friend’s cloth covering as it slipped. She knew that Strayke strode behind, his eyes always on them and anyone who wandered near. Except no one wandered near. As they trudged through the endless landscape, Galia realized that the other slaves and even their captors kept their distance. Only when the sun had begun to set was the column stopped.

She and Mina all but collapsed together in the sand. Though Galia was aware of Strayke watching them, she was more worried about Mina. Her entire body seemed flushed and heated. Their captors brought only dry biscuits and a cupful of water each. Mina gulped hers, dropping the biscuits in the sand.

“Not so fast,” Strayke said, but it was too late.

Mina was finished and dropped the metal cup, before she collapsed back on the ground.

Strayke shook his head and stooped to pick up the biscuits. “She’ll never get these down without water.”

Though Galia could feel a burning in her throat and grittiness in her teeth, she only stared at her own cup of water. She was thirsty, but Mina––she looked at her friend’s red face––needed more. She felt a light touch on her arm. Strayke held out Mina’s cup. Galia was shocked to see a bit of water still in the bottom. With chagrin, she realized that Strayke’s cup was no longer full. She looked up into his face. Even streaked with dirt and sweat, he was handsome.

“She must eat a little,” he said quietly. “And drink more.”

Galia accepted the cup. “Are you sure?”

He nodded.

Galia poured a little of her own water into Mina’s cup, and set it down.

“Mina,” she said, cradling her friend’s head into her lap. “Mina, you need to eat.”

As Strayke sat cross-legged, eating his own portion, Galia fed Mina tiny morsels, and ate her own biscuit in-between. Galia gave her the water sparingly, but was relieved to see the food and extra liquid revive her, if only a little. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the temperature dropped as well. More than anything, that seemed to help them all. Galia was about to have her own water, when she caught Strayke’s eyes on her, yet again. She mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ to him, before drinking. The water was a little foul, and also a little sour, but she drank every last drop. It passed over her parched lips and seemed to land directly in her stomach. She’d never felt anything so wonderful.

As night fell, their captors lit fires for themselves, but none for the slaves. Poor Mina began to shiver. Galia lay down next to her, warming her as best she could. Though she held her tight and rubbed her back, it did little good. Strayke had turned from them, gazing at the fires, but still sat close.

“Strayke,” Galia whispered. Though he was in silhouette, she saw him turn. “Would you…” Now that she was about to say it, she couldn’t quite believe her own audacity. But then Mina shivered. “Would you lay down with us?”

He hesitated and, for a moment, her heart sank. Had she tarnished herself in his eyes? But the thought was banished when he moved silently to lay opposite her. He wrapped his big arm around them both, Mina in the middle. Even over the top of Mina’s body, she could feel the heat that radiated from him. In a matter of minutes, Mina was able to lie still. Almost as a signal to how poorly she felt, Mina had no cutting quip for him. For an instant, Galia wondered what it would be like to be next to his chest.

Mina stirred against her, murmuring into her chest. “Can I have a story?”

This was one of the things that Galia so loved about Mina. When she let her defenses down, there was a tenderness about her that was so vulnerable, it was almost painful. But aware that Strayke was listening, Galia found she couldn’t quite start.

“I don’t know if…if Strayke wants to hear these stories.”

“If you have the wit to tell tales, I’d want to hear them,” he said quietly. “Just don’t expect me to return the favor.”

She had always had a head for tales. In these empty lands, they came as easily as they ever had. Perhaps easier, since there was nothing else to occupy her mind.

“Very well,” she said, propping herself up on one elbow “but just a short one.”

She took a deep breath and ordered her thoughts.

“Once, when the sky was still black, and the sun not yet hatched out of her egg, there was a goddess named Nirana. When the earth was finally created, she was the one who kept the seasons spinning. She touched the buds to bring the flowers to bloom. She touched the blooms to make the fruit. Finally, she touched the leaves to make them fall. She was beautiful, and she was powerful, but she was also lonely.” Mina relaxed, and turned on her back, though still lay close. “One day, Nirana was walking through the forest, and she came across a young girl drinking at a stream. This young girl was beautiful, and when the goddess met her eyes, Nirana knew that her heart was full.” Galia lightly stroked Mina’s hair. “The two laughed and sang, danced and loved, which are only the same things done differently. However, to love is to touch, and Nirana had touched her lover.” Both Strayke and Mina lay still, listening intently. “As had happened when Nirana spun the seasons with her touch, her young lover changed. In the space of a year, she became old before her time, ancient and decrepit. ‘How can you love me?’ her aged lover cried. ‘How can you laugh and dance with someone who can’t move without pain?’ But Nirana answered, ‘My love, you will always be you. I will always see you as the young girl I knew.’ And though it was true, it broke Nirana’s heart to see her lover in pain. So Nirana did the unthinkable, a thing to which only the gods aspire. She touched her one last time and broke her apart.” Mina gasped a little. “Nirana carried her lover to the skies and placed her there. It is her gleaming body that we see scattered across the blackness at night, perfect, eternal and beautiful. Now she is outside the reach of Nirana, and so can never change. But she is also beyond Nirana’s love, and so shall be forever and ever until the seas come back to swallow us.”

Galia stopped, seeing with satisfaction that Mina and Strayke were staring up at the sky. Their eyes were searching as they gazed at the brilliant stars, and for a moment, none of them were slaves.

“What kind of love is it to never touch your lover?” asked Mina after a moment. She turned and curled into Galia, as if rejecting the thought.

“There are many kinds of love, after all,” Strayke said quietly, also turning over and draping his arm across them both. But Galia had heard a hint of sadness in his voice.

“It is only a story,” Galia said, “though it is my favorite. Though I will further note that none of us are gods or beloved of the gods. When I die, I am content to have my body stay on earth.”

“Who says she was dead when Nirana broke her up?” Mina said, sleepiness in her voice. “Goddesses don’t always wait for death to do what they will.”

But at the grim thought, it was not Galia who shuddered but Strayke.

“To be broken apart because of love…” he shook his head as if to clear it. “Tomorrow night tell us something better,” he said. “If there is any kindness in that northern wasteland where you two came from, I would like to hear it.”

Galia finally lowered her head. The fatigue she’d heard in Mina’s voice had finally claimed her as well. Before she could even wonder at the gentle way Strayke held them, sleep caught her, and she was borne away on a dream of stars.

I
n the morning
, they were unceremoniously roused and set on the road. Galia was relieved that Mina seemed to be faring a bit better, and as usual, Strayke was never far from them. They ventured along a dusty path that became a gravel road, and because it was a road, their column was passed by other travelers. There was a fabric trader with bolts of cloth underneath heavy canvas. There was a beautiful woman traveling by litter, her face kept from the harsh sun by the sheerest cloth. There were people of all shapes, ages and sizes. In another world, Galia would have been fascinated. But now she wore a slave’s cuff. The closer they got to the city of Tenebris, the heavier it weighed on her.

In the mountains, they came to a wide tunnel unlike anything Galia had ever seen. It was tall enough that she was certain that three men standing on each other’s shoulders could not quite reach the top. It was wide enough that ten oxen could walk it abreast. The tile along the bottom was worn, but she was awed to see the deep green glaze of it. They traveled through the dark for a time, but then there was light. Galia felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise when she realized it was not fire. Instead, balls of softly glowing green lights suffused the tunnel.

“The eternal lights of Tenebris,” said Strayke quietly. “They say that the city is so powerful that it holds night at bay.”

They travelled under the mountain for a time, stopping to rest when the road took them alongside an enormous lake. The idea of so much water underground made Galia feel a little ill. The world felt a little topsy turvy. But with the other thirsty slaves, she went down to the water to drink.

“There’s a woman in the water,” Mina gasped.

With the witch lights behind them, now Galia could see it too. There was a statue of a woman under the water. They could only see the top of her head, but she must have been enormous.

“She must be a troll frozen underground,” Galia whispered.

“Or that goddess that is going to break us,” Mina murmured.

Something about the statue in the water seemed to compel Strayke. He stared down into the depths. When the caravan started moving again, a drover struck him twice with a club before he could come away. Their captors didn’t risk giving them scars, but everyone had bruises.

“Why do you dawdle?” Galia whispered harshly. “You know better.”

“I think Strayke is in love,” Mina said, a bit of laughter in her voice. “Perhaps he wanted to swim down and kiss her.”

Strayke smirked, but the image that Mina had called up made Galia shudder. Though none of them knew the next time they’d have enough water, she was glad to leave the lake behind. Just when she thought that they would be underground for the rest of their lives, they came out on the other side of the mountain. She blinked in the sun and then stopped in her tracks.

They were surrounded by elegant buildings made entirely of pure white stone. For a moment, she thought she had come to some unearthly place where people lived in houses of polished bone. The buildings were among the most beautiful she had ever seen, as were the people. Fine-boned and nearly glowing with vitality, they dressed in brightly colored clothing that looked softer than the down of a goose.

“Is this Tenebris?” she said.

It was her turn to draw the attention of a drover. His broad hand slapped down on her rump as if she were a recalcitrant mule, sending her stumbling forward and rubbing at her rear.

“Stupid girl,” he laughed. “This is merely the way station.”

It might have been a way station, but it was perhaps the grandest place that Galia and Mina had ever seen. Though he tried to keep a cool eye on things, Galia could tell that even Strayke was impressed.

They waited in a line behind the drover. He was having words with a man in a sky blue robe with edges that gleamed as though they were made of silver.

“The Bondage Wheel is stocked with what it needs,” the robed man said. “I will not begger the city to pay for new flesh.”

Mina wrapped her arms around Galia, kissing her cheek as comfortingly as she could.

“It’ll be fine,” Mina said clumsily.

She was not very good at comforting people. Still, Galia relished her gentle touch and held her close. Strayke stood beside them, and this time, Galia reached out and held his hand.

In the end, the drover got the line moving. He led them next to a plaza that was tiled in a series of ever-widening circles. Several drovers with chained slaves were already waiting in a cordoned off area. It occurred to Galia that it was a very beautiful place for a thing as ugly as slavery.

The man in the wondrous robe passed them all, making his way to the center of the tiled rings. They lit up with scrawled symbols that she knew were writing. The letters and words glowed green as the wind suddenly came up. The drovers started to move. They stood aside and, with their hands and clubs, they drove the slaves into the plaza, directly toward a column of green light that rose from the top of a sparkling whirlwind.

Galia had just enough time to grab Strayke and Mina’s hands before they all went through.

G
alia
, Mina, and Strayke stood at the entrance to Tenebris. Two enormous, fluted columns were topped with a wide and curving arch. Unlike the pure white stone of the way-station, the arch was made of a pink stone veined with gold. But it was still something Galia had never seen before. She, Mina, and Strayke clung to one another, as did some of the other slaves.

Though it was afternoon, and the sky was a brilliant shade of blue, something about it made her uneasy.

“This is wrong,” Mina said. She peered around her like a frightened bird. “What’s wrong with this place?”

“The sky isn’t right,” Galia said, but as soon as she did, she felt foolish. How could the sky be wrong?

“No, it’s the sun,” Strayke replied. “The color isn’t right.

For once, he sounded as distressed and befuddled as they did, but there was no time to think about it. The slavers drove them forward, into the city. It was built of the blinding white stone, but now Galia could see that the way station she had thought so grand was truly something humble. Tenebris was a vision in stone. Like some fairy landscape, gleaming obelisks, polished domes, and sparkling fountains were everywhere. And the people! They were dressed even more richly than the people at the way station. They held themselves as if they were gods. Galia and Mina gaped in every direction as they stumbled along with the other slaves. Dressed in their filthy wool tunics and bag shoes, they were less than insects to these people.

A young gentleman, passing in the opposite direction, met her eyes. With a sly smile, he made a gesture with his hands that could not be mistaken in any language. Galia dropped her gaze.

“Well, some things never change,” Mina muttered, “No matter how beautiful the city.”

Galia expected Strayke to at least chuckle, but instead his face darkened.

“Filthy little whoreson,” he growled. “Someone needs to teach him a lesson.”

“No, they don’t,” Galia said, her voice far calmer than she thought it would be.

When Strayke turned to her, she rested her hand on his bicep.

“We’re no longer free,” she said. “If you act like you are, you will die. We all might.”

Emotions flashed across his face, but ended with grim acceptance.

“All right,” he said finally. “It can wait, but just until we’re free again.”

The way he said it made Galia smile. “Until we are free,” she agreed.

“Until we’re free,” Mina said.

They came at last to a building with many levels and windows, but only one set of doors. In its courtyard was a large fountain. The slave master ordered them to clean themselves, words that made Galia ache with gratefulness. It had been weeks since they’d been allowed to wash. Still, she hesitated, and Strayke noticed.

“I’ll make sure no one bothers you.”

Mina’s grin was dangerous. “Let them try.”

In the end, they watched out for each other. They claimed a space on the far side of the fountain, and stripped. Using the water and the handfuls of clean white sand in bowls close by, they could scrub themselves until they were clean.

Galia found her eyes wandering over the bodies of her friends. Mina was slender to the point of pain. Her small breasts were topped with creamy pink nipples, and the floss of hair between her legs was as dark as the hair on her head was white. Even so, there was a spare beauty to her that Galia had never seen before. Strayke was beautiful as well. He moved with an efficiency of motion that was graceful. The water left his skin a glowing, gorgeous bronze. When he caught her looking, he grinned, winking.

“You’re beautiful,” Strayke said, as if they were at a village well, passing the time of day.

The compliment caught Galia off guard. She had heard them before, but something about the way Strayke said it made her heart warm. She wasn’t a tall woman, but her brown hair, when washed, was soft and glossy. Her breasts and hips were round and soft, and her belly flat, particularly after the long march. When free of caked dirt, her skin was soft in the fountain water.

But she had been gazing too long. Hard hands caught at her shoulders, and she was pushed to the ground.

“Filthy bitch, I told you to clean yourself!”

Galia cried out in panic as the drover scrubbed her harshly with what felt like a bristle brush. She was bent over the fountain lip, and the brush was raked over her skin until it was pink and glowing. When he parted her legs to scrub her there as well, she thought she would die from the humiliation. She was dimly aware of men holding Mina and Strayke back.

“There,” said the drover. “Get up. You’re not hurt.”

Galia thought her tears had dried that terrible night the village had been destroyed. Now she could feel them filling her eyes again. Breathing deep, she blinked them back, and climbed to her feet. Mina and Strayke had been released, but there was still murder in their eyes. Galia tried to smile at them.

“Well, I guess I shouldn’t be so slow,” she murmured.

Mina wrapped her in a quick, hard hug.

“I’ll kill him,” she whispered. “See if I don’t.”

But there was nothing for it except but wait at the lip of the fountain. Mina kept an arm around her shoulders, and Strayke refused to leave her side. Despite her bravado, Galia was grateful.

Their rags were taken away from them, and as the matron at the inn said, they would likely be burnt. Instead, they were dressed in the finest garments Galia had ever worn. She kept pinching the fine fabric, staring at how thin and lovely it was.

“They call it cotton,” Strayke said, though he seemed as unused to it as they were. “It’s woven in the south, from fibers so fine they’re barely more than air.”

“I feel naked,” Galia replied.

“I think that’s the point,” Mina said. “We’re supposed to be making the most of what we have for the buyers.”

It had been a forbidden topic among the three of them. If they didn’t talk about it, they didn’t have to confront it. Now, however, it was here. The drover said they would be heading to the Bondage Wheel. To Galia’s horror, she was shoved to the front of the line and made to march there.

This time, as they were led through the streets of Tenebris, people stopped to look. Galia imagined that it was because they were clean at last. The scrutiny made her want to hide inside herself. Instead, she forced herself to walk forward with her head held high. She had done nothing to be ashamed of. Somewhere behind her were Mina and Strayke. She could be brave for them.

That was what she told herself until they came to the Bondage Wheel.

The plaza was as large as any of the ones she had seen, but all around were stone rings set into the ground. Attached to the rings were long chains of slaves. There were people of all kinds in the market.

Galia shuddered as they were led to the only empty ring. Instead of attaching them to the chain there, however, the drover waited. As he paced a bit, looking this way and that, the sun beat down, making Galia feel faint. After only a few minutes, a short man in a brown robe bustled over. He reminded Galia so much of the baker in her old village that she nearly greeted him, until she remembered that the baker was dead, an axe in his gut.

“So this is what you intend to display at the Bondage Wheel, eh?” he asked, managing to look down his nose from a height less than hers.

The drover grunted. “My goods are as beautiful and strong as any in this market. Look for yourself.”

The official harrumphed before gesturing to Galia. “Let’s see this one.”

Hesitantly, Galia stepped forward. The drover stood behind her. His hands were at the clasps holding the shoulders of her garment up, and to her shock, she found them being taken down. In a matter of seconds, she stood bare to the waist, the afternoon sun shining down on her bare, pale breasts.

She would have expected the official to leer at her, to pinch or even grope. Somehow it was worse that he did none of those things. Instead, he surveyed her flesh as if she was a pony or a dog.

“Take down the rest of it. I shall be sure there is no pox.”

Galia blinked back tears as the garment was lifted over her head. She went numb as she was pushed and prodded. The examination seemed to go on forever. She could hear Mina make a sound of protest when the man made her stand with her legs parted so he could examine her there too.

Don’t move, Mina. Don’t call attention to yourself,
she thought desperately.
I couldn’t take it if something happened to you or Strayke.

The examination was done and she was allowed to pull her clothing on again.

“Well, I have certainly seen better, but it’ll do,” the official said. “Take your place.”

The drover beamed and patted Galia’s flank, ignoring the way she flinched away. The drover chained the slaves to the iron ring, and the wait began. When she glanced towards Mina and Strayke, she could see that Strayke was watching her and Mina was fuming. She dared not give them a smile. The drover seemed to have decided that Galia was some kind of good luck charm. When rich citizens came by, he made sure to show her off first. Galia didn’t understand the type of money they used in Tenebris, but after more than one person’s eyes widened at her price, she realized that she must be expensive. She didn’t know if that was a mercy or not.

The day wore on, and by ones and twos, the slaves were sold off. At first Galia tensed every time someone looked at Mina or Strayke, but then it was just too tiring. She felt entirely numb.

Close to sunset, there was a stirring in the crowd. Galia looked up to see a small woman robed in purple making her way through the Bondage Wheel. The people parted for her, as they would a tribal chief. Some bowed deferentially. Galia was just thinking that such a woman was sure to have a bodyguard when she saw the pure white wolf trotting at the woman’s side. Before Galia could look away, the woman looked up, and their eyes met. The effect was immediate and electric. Galia felt as if her entire body had been doused in cold water. She jerked back, barely stifling a cry.

The drover glared at her. He might even have struck her for making a fuss, but the woman in purple approached. Galia was startled to see that the woman was not nearly as old as she first appeared. Her hair was black as jet, and her brown eyes were narrow and quick. It was the haughty air that made her seem old. Instead of surveying the line of slaves, she spoke directly to Galia.

“And what good are you?”

“Me?”

“Ah, but madame has chosen the finest slave of the lot,” said the drover. “A beautiful girl, and sweet tempered–”

“When I want to hear the braying of an ass,” the woman said, “I will go to a slaughterhouse. Be silent. Your tongue is not as attached to your head as you would like to think.”

Galia took a savage joy in the way the drover fell back.

“Well?” the woman said.

“I come from the northern lands,” Galia said, as clearly and as proudly as she could. “I am skilled in all matters of housework. I brew strong beer. I weave–’

The woman looked unimpressed. “Brewing and weaving. At your price? Come, girl. What good are you?”

Galia felt an iron spear of anger drive through her.

“I’m the daughter of dead traders. I’m willing to work, I will not falter.”

The woman’s gaze was ice.

“Unimpressive. To me, you look like a ripe girl fit for the brothel. Perhaps you will be lucky, and they will buy you at the Pleasure Inn. The work is easy there. Perhaps you can find a noble who will buy you out and beget his brats on you.”

“I don’t know what you want,” Galia said, her voice strained.

“You could be a household drudge and brood. What would you think of that? Every year, forced to lie underneath a stud until you were made barren with weariness.”

Galia knew that the words the woman spoke were only the truth. But a deep well of something cold opened up inside her. If she could kill with a glance, the woman would be dead ten times over.

“I will be the death of you,” she whispered.

The drover’s hand was around her neck, pulling her back. He shouted his apologies, promised a whipping, and said she would be sold to the lowest brothel he could find.

Then there was a white whirlwind, and the man was off her. He lay with his back on the ground and a hundred pounds of white wolf on his chest, snarling. The woman stood in front of Galia, amused.

“There it is,” she said, looking into Galia’s eyes with just the hint of a smile. “I would have accepted nothing less.” Shaking, Galia stared at her. “Drover, how much?”

From underneath the wolf, the man mumbled a price. The woman didn’t even bat an eye. With a gesture, she summoned her wolf, who bounded to her side.

“Release her and come to the palace for your money in the morning.”

The drover didn’t even protest. As he unchained her, he muttered platitudes that didn’t even make sense.

Galia glanced at Mina and Strayke. They stood with their eyes wide, looking at her. A longing that felt as bottomless as a canyon opened insider her. This might be the last time they saw each other.

“Please, Lady,” she said suddenly. “Will you buy more slaves today?”

The woman looked up, startled. “What?”

Clumsily, Galia pointed at Mina and Strayke.

“They… They’re very good,” Galia said. The idea of her trying to sell her friends made her sick to her stomach, but she forced herself to continue. “Mina is… Mina is quick and smart, and she weaves and brews. And er, Strayke, he’s a fighter, a good one.”

“Oh. So you have friends,” said the woman, sniffing. “Very well, choose one.”

Galia froze. “Lady?”

“Go on. It’s to be expected for one who looks like you. Choose one, and be done with it.”

Galia turned a fearful glance to Mina and Strayke. She couldn’t possibly choose.

“Make it quick,” the woman barked. “It grows cold.”

She made it sound as if Galia was a child dawdling over a treat. She dropped her head. Her choice was clear.

“Mina,” she said softly. “The small girl. The one with the white hair.”

“Ah. Well, if it was me, I might have picked that handsome man.”

Galia should have been grateful for the woman’s mercy. She should have fallen on her knees and thanked her. Instead, there was a growing hatred inside, and Galia welcomed it. Brutality sharpened the soul, and made something inside her hard.