Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Ashira awoke and opened her eyes, but could not see. She felt the blindfold around her head and the ropes around her wrists and ankles. The floor beneath her was cold, as was the metal ring around her neck. She tried to cry out, but could make no sound. She sat up, struggling to do so.

She was alone for what felt like a few hours. She could hear an occasional footstep above her, making her think she may be underground.

Finally, she heard a click above her. Something heavy thudded on the floor near her, and she heard two people walking down a flight of steps. One of them spoke.

“Don't worry, girl. You'll be free soon enough,” said a man. The voice was familiar, though she could not place it. “You're friend should be here any moment, thinking that he is saving the day.” He chuckled softly.

The man and the other person moved away from her and spoke quickly and quietly. She strained to hear their words. She heard the man address the other by the name 'Seren'. She also heard something about their plan to go to Aetheris, though she did not catch why.

Something rattled to her right. The man, whose steps were heavier than the other person's, walked past her.

“He's here,” he whispered to his companion.

Ashira heard the other person, who must have been female, scream into something that muffled her voice. The man picked Ashira up, hoisting her onto his shoulder. Then he chanted something under his breath that she could not understand, and a large crash filled the room. The man walked a few paces and paused.

“ Foolish boy. 'Watch who you keep company with'” he sneered to somebody. She heard a faint voice.

“Ashira.”

It was Salam. She wanted to cry out to him, but the metal ring kept her silent. She heard a woman's voice behind her as the man carried her away. He turned a couple times, then walked up a flight of steps. He opened a door or hatch, and she knew they were outside. He set her down against a stone wall.

“If you are wise, I would advise you not to follow us,” said the man. Ashira felt him untie her wrists and throw something long into her lap. She reached up to remove the blindfold first, to see her captor. However, by the time she got it off, he was gone. She was in an alleyway, her dagger and flute lying in her lap.

She tried to remove the ring around her neck, but it did not have a seam that she could find. She stood, put her dagger and flute back into their sheaths, and walked down the alley. The entrance to a cellar was to her left, and she tried to pull on the doors. They did not budge. Anger swelled inside her; anger at the man and at herself for being unable to help Salam. She wanted to scream, but was prohibited by the choker.

She walked around the corner and down the street. There were five doors that could have led to the cellar that she tried, but were locked.

Ashira looked around the street. She figured she was in Premoi, which placed her closer to her personal goal of getting to Aetheris. But she was not going to leave Salam alone. She had been the reason he was able to be captured, and now she would save him.

Nobody was on the street, so she ran down it and turned left. There were only a few citizens on this new street. She stopped a middle-aged woman and pointed to the ring around her neck. The woman gave her a dirty look and shrugged her away.

She tried an older man, but he did the same thing. Ashira decided that either people here were very rude, or somehow the ring was something they did not like.

She continued down the road, sometimes stopping a person and pointing to the collar with a questioning look. She was getting desperate after fifteen minutes without any help. She had reached a plaza, guards standing at the three streets leading to it. People bustled around, buying and selling wares. She smelled fresh food cooking and realized she was very hungry. She searched her waist, but her money pouch was gone.

A soldier watched from his post in the East Plaza as a young woman, a tachitia, walk up to a food vendor and begged. The man behind the table yelled at her, turning her away. The young woman backed away in fear and confusion. He could see the tears running down her cheeks even from across the plaza. He always felt sorry for the tachitum. Debt was the most common way a person was deprived of their voice, so it made sense that this young woman had no money.

He continued to watch her for a few minutes. She tried another vendor, who also turned her away. She finally sat down near the central fountain and wept. The solider checked the large clock tower erected at one end of the plaza. He had two minutes before he was to be relieved, and he hoped the woman would still be there when he did.

Ashira cried. Nobody would speak to her or help her. She had no idea why people hated her so. She was far from home, surrounded by a strange culture, her friend and traveling companion in danger. As she sat near the fountain with the eagle, jostled by the throng even when sitting, she felt completely alone.

The hour came and the soldier was relieved of his duty. He walked over to the woman who still sat at the base of the fountain.

“Ma'am,” said Ivarus, standing over her. “If you come with me, I can help you remove that collarium.”

Ashira looked up at the soldier standing above her. He wore a red tunic beneath his armor, a metal helm, and leather sandals that wrapped up his shins. He was smiling at her, the first person to do so since she had awoken. She looked into his eyes, which were hazel, and saw his compassion.

She pointed to the ring around her neck.

“Yes, I can remove it. Come with me,” he said.

She stood and followed him through the crowd, not sure what else to do. The soldier stood a head taller than her. He bore a shield on his back and held a spear. A short sword was fastened to his waist.

Once they were out of the noisy plaza, he glanced back and said, “My name is Ivarus.” Facing forward, he continued. “I would ask yours, but. . . .”

Ivarus turned corners, walked long winding roads and grand boulevards, taking her toward the central part of the city.

“I will take you to my father. He is a judge and can forgive whatever debt you have accrued to get you into this predicament. Then we can take the collarium off.”

Ashira was not sure what he was talking about, but was glad to get the ring off her neck. They passed houses and structures built from adobe, red brick, and wood. Then at once it all changed. They were walking beneath grand stone arches, past marble facades, and through shining white plazas.

“My father, Iudes, is a good man. He tries to do what is right, but there are many corrupt people in our government right now. He is usually shut down when he tries to speak sensibly.”

They walked up a slight hill along a somewhat narrow road. Ivarus stopped in front of a three story house with white granite facade. He opened the large wooden door.

“Sergis!” Ivarus called out, holding the door open for Ashira to enter the house. The exterior was marble, but the interior was made of fine woods. It felt very comfortable to her. She was not used to being around as much stone as there was in Premoi.

A slim, older manservant came down the elegant redwood stairs.

“What may I do for you, Ivarus?” asked the servant.

“Will you fetch my father? I need his help,” Ivarus said, stepping aside for Sergis to see Ashira.

Sergis nodded and walked away, resisting the urge to sigh. His young master had brought home another debtor for the judge to pardon. This was the third in two weeks. As he climbed the stairs, he reprimanded himself for thinking negatively about Ivarus. The man had a good heart. Sergis enjoyed working for the family, as they allowed him simple things that most servants were denied. An example was the fact that he addressed Ivarus by his first name, and not as 'Master'.

Ivarus led Ashira into a front room to one side of the great hall. They sat bear the fireplace, where the remains of a dying fire were glowing.

“We will sit here. My father will come shortly and take that ring from around your neck.”

Iudes entered the room a few minutes later. Ivarus stood and embraced his father.

“Father, I have another favor to ask,” he said, pulling away.

Iudes looked at Ashira and sighed.

“Another debtor?” he said.

“She was in the East Plaza. Nobody would give her food. I could not leave her there, especially since I was just being relieved from my post,” Ivarus explained.

Iudes was nodding.

“You are a compassionate person, son. I'm grateful for that. Stand here before me, young lady,” Iudes said.

Ashira did as she was told, her head bowed slightly. The judge sang a short song.

“I, Iudes, Judge of Camena, hereby decree, that thou, a debtor and defaulter, are now and ever free.”

They stood, waiting. Ashira looked up at the judge, eyebrows raised.

“Hm. That is odd. Usually that spell breaks the collarium. Are you certain she is in debt?” he asked his son.

Ivarus shook his head.

“No, I assumed. I am sorry,” he said.

“Well, we can ask her what her crime was. I will have Sergis fetch a parchment and pen.”

A few minutes later Ashira was writing on a small table near one of the chairs.

I have committed no crime. I have no debt. This ring was placed by men who kidnapped me and my friend.

“I see,” Iudes said, reading as she wrote. He mused for a moment, then asked for more details.

I was captured outside Premoi, taken to a cellar, and left there. When my friend came to rescue me, they let me go but he was captured. I do not know why or who, but I miss Salam.

“Salam!” Iudes exclaimed as she wrote the last word. “The minstrel?”

She nodded excitedly, looking at the judge.

“He was captured? I told him to be careful who he keeps company with! I'm certain it was that man he was with.”

“Salam? You mean Kirdan?” Ivarus asked Iudes.

“Yes. He came by earlier with a stranger. He said Kaias's cronies had captured his friend. I assume he meant you,” Iudes addressed Ashira.

Ashira was confused. What had Ivarus meant by calling Salam 'Kirdan'?

“Well, if this collarium had been placed maliciously, there is only one way to remove it. We must get the help of a Celfsteinian. They are the only ones who can work metal in this way,” Ivarus said, gesturing to her neck.

“Yes. But if we take her to the courts, they will ask for a reason why we are removing it from her neck,” Iudes said. “The Celfsteinian workers are in favor of Kaias and his ideas. They will not help us.”

Ashira's stomach grumbled loudly. The two men looked at it.

“We should be better hosts. Let us get her something to eat,” Ivarus said, walking toward the door. Sergis stood just outside the room, so he requested a plate of meat and bread.

“You can eat in here as we try to figure out how to help you,” Ivarus said. “I'm sorry about Salam. He is a good man.”

Ashira wrote again.

Can you help me find him?

Ivarus read it, then tilted his head, thinking.

“Well, I could. But I would be deserting and that is worthy of death. However, Salam is much too important to ignore. In fact, I may be able to get my praefectus to give me a leave of absence to search for him.”

Ashira knew Salam was the son of a senator, so it made sense that he would be important enough for a soldier to be given such permission.

Iudes and Ivarus deliberated for a few minutes. Sergis brought in a platter of food for Ashira. There was venison, bread, and cheese. She ate gratefully, thinking.

It hurts to eat! I'm going to write them another note. If only this thing would come off my throat! she thought.

She felt a warm feeling at the back of her neck. The metal ring suddenly fell off and into her plate.

Iudes and Ivarus stopped talking and looked at her.

“How did that happen?” Iudes said.

“I don't know,” Ashira replied. She gasped and put her hand to her neck. “I can speak!” She wanted to weep for joy.

“Only a Celfsteinian can perform the magic that releases the collarium. Are you Celfsteinian?” Ivarus asked her.

“I don't know. I might be,” she said. She picked up the collar and examined it. It was simple tin, with no strange features.

“You might be?” Ivarus asked, confused?

“I was adopted. I don't know where I'm from.”

“Well, if she was, she would have blonde hair,” Iudes reasoned. “She has brown.”

Ashira stood and turned her back to them, pulling up her hair so they could see the strands on the back of her neck. She knew they had not been dyed.

“I do have blonde,” she answered. The two men came closer and examined her hair.

“So you do. That settles it, then. You are Celfsteinian,” Ivarus said.

Her mind went to the man she had seen in the alleyway in Barath. He had hidden his blonde hair beneath a hat, but she had seen a lock. Then she realized it.

“I met that man in Barath,” she said aloud.

“What man?” Iudes asked.

Ashira turned around to face them.

“The man who took Salam! Who must have put this collar on me,” she said hurriedly.

“Now the collarium is gone, sit down and tell us what happened,” Ivarus said. They all sat on the chairs and Ashira launched into her story. She told about how she had left home with Malimu, met Salam at Barath, traveled to Ceantir, then traveled north. She told how she had been captured to be used as bait for Salam, then her release.

“So this man was somebody you met in Barath? You're certain?” Iudes said.

“Yes. But I don't know who he is, just that he is from Celfstein.”

Ivarus looked at his father.

“This must mean there is some sort of spy activity going on. We must warn the other judges and the senate.”

“No! For all we know, Kaias is working with these foreign people.”

Ivarus nodded, understanding.

“Then what do we do?” he asked his father.

“We must save Salam,” Ashira said with desperation.

They looked at her.

“She is right. If they have him, they have a bargaining token with the king,” Iudes said. “We shall take away that token.”

The day was almost spent, so Ashira was invited to stay at Iudes's residence. She was grateful because she now had no money to pay for a room.

Ashira, Iudes, his wife, and Ivarus sat around a dying fire in the front room. The sun had set, the streets become illuminated by torches. Ashira stared out of the front window at the people walking along the street. A young couple walked by, holding hands and laughing. Ashira felt a sudden longing to be with Salam doing the same thing.

“Ashira,” Ivarus said, sitting forward in his chair and looking at her. “I have sent a message to my praefectus requesting a special mission to save Kirdan.”

“Kirdan? You called him that earlier. Why?” she asked, turning and looking at him.

Iudes looked at Ivarus, then at Ashira.

“We will let him tell you when you see him. He has sworn us to secrecy that nobody should know who he really is without his permission. I'm sorry,” he added, seeing the look of frustration on her face. “I cannot betray his trust.”

“Fine. But let's call him Salam then,” she said. She looked at Ivarus. “What do you mean by 'mission'?”

“I am not just a soldier. I am part of the special forces, the Egregia. We are trained in various ways of combat that are foreign to Camena. Foreign to all of Amrahn, in fact. I will be able to track Salam and find him. And, depending on how many people I must get through, I should be able to rescue him.”

“You would kill to save him?” Ashira asked.

Ivarus nodded. “It would not be the first time I've had to take a life.” He did not say it boastfully, but almost with sorrow.

This unassuming man, who seemed so simple and nice, suddenly seemed much stronger to Ashira. She knew he was somebody she could trust with her life.

“They are going to Aetheris,” she told him. “I heard the man saying it earlier before they released me.”

“Then we'll follow them there and get Salam back,” Ivarus said simply. He made it sound easy, but Ashira knew it would not be.

“When shall we leave?” she asked.

“Tomorrow as soon as I get a response from the preafectus. We cannot let them get too much of a head start,” Ivarus said.

Ashira stood to go to the small guest quarters where she would spend the night. Iudes wife stopped her with a raised hand.

“Ashira,” she said. “I see that you have a flute. Would you mind playing for us before bed?” She smiled at her husband next to her. “We do not get to enjoy flutes much where we live. I love the pure sound they make.”

Iudes smiled back at his wife, then looked at Ashira.

“If you would like, ma'am,” Ashira said, bowing slightly.

She decided on a piece Malimu had taught her the year before. It was an adaptation of a folk song from Acustia. She tuned her flute, then stood in front of the fireplace.

She started with a short intro of fleeting notes in an arpeggio. Then she went into the melody. It was haunting at first, sounding sad. But when the chorus came along, hope seemed to come out of the notes as they floated through the house. She started the repeat, and this time was joined by Ivarus. He stood from his seat and took a place beside her. All he did was sing on an 'ah', but it added to the enchantment of the song. He sang along expertly, having picked up the chord pattern the first time through. When he heard the end coming, he respectfully ended the harmony and sat down. She ended on a high D that echoed through the halls, holding it for a few seconds.

Iudes, his wife, and Ivarus clapped. They were joined by Sergis and the cook, both of whom had gathered at the door to the front room. Ashira bowed, embarrassed at the attention.

“That was wonderful, Ashira,” gushed Iudes's wife. “It made me think of distant lands, and traveling far from home. You play beautifully.”

“It seems to me you have a talent with that flute,” Iudes said, smiling at her. “Are we sure you're Celfsteinian and not Acustian?”

She shrugged, putting the flute back in its holster at her waist.

They retired to bed, Ashira still glowing form the praise given her. As she sat on the small bed, moonlight filtered in through the window. It fell in slivers upon her pillow. She lay down and looked into it.

Life seemed peaceful. It seemed right. She loved the forest, but this house was starting to feel like a home, even in the short time she had been there. Iudes and his family had taken her in, given her food and a place to sleep. Gratitude filled her heart, and she began to weep. Now Ivarus had volunteered risking his life to help her save Salam. These people were good, and it saddened her that so many were against that goodness.

She fell asleep with a smile, the moonlight still on her face.