Gems of Fire: A Young Adult Fantasy Page 5

  “Horses need to rest,” came a voice from the front as the wagon lurched to a stop.

  Anna could barely stand under the white canvas covering the rear of the wagon. She found she could walk if she focused her eyes straight ahead. She stumbled to the rear of the wagon and cringed as she took the man’s hand to steady her as she climbed down into the blazing sun. Where am I? Nothing seemed familiar. Unease crept through her. She scanned the countryside for anything familiar, but found only dry grasses and hot, sandy soil.

  Her knees shook as she climbed back in the wagon. After she was settled one of the men held a plate of food out for her. Anna grabbed his wrist.

  “Where am I, and who are you?”

  He snapped his hand back and set the plate next to her. He drew a long draught on a pipe and exhaled sweet-smelling smoke into the stifling wagon. His dark eyes locked on hers as he opened his mouth in a yellow grin. Surrounding the man were thick, luxurious rugs, antique glassware and bottles of spices.

  Traders!

  She eyed the man again. He was short, with dark hair and quick, beady eyes. He licked his lips and fumbled with his pipe. Many of Anna’s favorite oils, spices and bath salts had come from the kingdoms across the desert. Sunderland got much medicine from traders as well.

  The man chuckled. “We’re your saviors, little pretty. We found you alone in the forest with a blow to your head. And we’ll be asking the questions ‘round here.”

  The past came flooding back to her. Of course, she had been riding Farley to get away from Seamus! She must have fallen off in the storm. She felt for her necklace. It was gone.

  “And you didn’t consider taking me to the village?”

  The man who had been smoking the pipe approached her without answering. A thick, sweet odor hung in the air around him. “We’re taking good care of you. We needed to make a delivery, and then we’ll take you where you need to be.”

  Anna sat in stunned silence. If she revealed herself as a princess, what would these men do? Might they take her home?

  “My father will reward you greatly if you take me directly home.”

  “C’mon, you’re certainly not a noble woman, dressed like that,” the other man said. “Filthy rags.”

  She looked at her dress, thin, dirty and torn. She did look like a peasant.

  “What happened to you?”

  “My horse spooked in the storm, and I must have fallen.” Anna wanted to add so much more, but bit her tongue. Her head was still spinning. “Please take me back north,” Anna said. “You will be rewarded more than you can imagine.” She also couldn’t imagine what punishment awaited her.

  The men laughed. Anna felt blood rise to her face.

  “I demand you take me back. My father will have the whole army out looking for me by now. You are already in danger.”

  “Oh, yeah, and who’s your father?” the taller of the two men sneered.

  “King Vilipp. You better turn around this instant.” She watched their surprised faces. They only laughed harder.

  “I knew you hit your head hard, but if you are a princess, then I’m a king,” said one.

  “No, no, I’m a liege—no, a baron—or a sultan!” mocked the other. “You are just lucky we bothered to pick you up. I don’t care who you are, we have some precious cargo to deliver.”

  “Not more precious than I am to my family! My father would pay more than this whole wagon is worth.”

  The taller man struck her mouth. She fell, gasping and spitting blood on the wagon’s floor. Her lip throbbed, and the wagon spun. She closed her eyes and clutched her head.

  “Get away from the rug!” he said as he tossed her aside. The back of her head hit wood.

  “You idiot!” the shorter man yelled. “Don’t further damage the goods, or I’ll teach you a lesson!” He poured water on a cloth and held it out to Anna. “In our land, women don’t speak to men. No more talk.”

  Several days later Anna fumed in silence as she contemplated what her father would do to these men. Or Stefan. He would kill them slowly, painfully. She cringed when she thought of Stefan. He was so far away.

  The wagon rumbled on for a time while the shorter man mashed dark spices in a small bowl. They lurched to a stop.

  “I want you to get cleaned up. We can’t go to the city with you looking like that. We’re approaching a warm spring bubbling up from underground. And see this?” He shoved her a bowl containing the black mixture. “Wash your hair with this; it will make it radiant.” He gave her an oily smile.

  The mention of her hair jolted Anna. The hair rope! Had it burned all the way, or would her use of magic be discovered? She closed her eyes and thought of her father. He wasn’t exactly in a forgiving mood, but surely he wouldn’t have his own daughter executed for using the gems.

  Shaking, she climbed out of the wagon and found the warm spring. The man wasn’t lying about the water being warm. It was incredible. She rubbed the spices on her hair and let them sit while she washed her body. She leaned back and rinsed her hair. Her head spun again, but not as severely as before. She saw something dark flop over her shoulder and her hand went to her hair. It was dark brown with reddish highlights. Anna didn’t mind.

  “So,” she said to the short man after she dressed and climbed back in the wagon. “The dye appears to have worked.”

  “Splendid, splendid,” he said. “Women use that mixture to cover up gray hair. I didn’t know if it would work for your golden hair. Now you’ll blend in better.”

  “I demand to know what is going on.” Anna fingered her knife through her skirt.

  The short man leaned close. “Wait and see.”

  Anna drew her knife.

  “No, I won’t.”

  He knocked the knife from her hand with lightning speed. He grabbed her arm and bent it painfully behind her back.

  “Drop to your knees.”

  Anna struggled, but the shooting pain through her shoulder had her knees bending to the ground.

  “We’ll have no more of that,” he said, grinning. He shoved her into the corner. “We’ve got a feisty one!” he yelled at the other man as he picked up the knife. “Even so, it is a nice piece,” he said as he fingered the silver handle.

  “Give it back.” Anna’s voice was small. He would do no such thing.

  “Did you steal it?”

  “My brother gave it to me. There are plenty more that could be yours if you’d just return me.”

  “You are a decent liar. I’ll give you that. This fine knife will add to the money I’ll get out of you.” He slipped it into his pocket. “Along with your necklace.” He held it up and leered at her.

  Anna’s stomach pitched. She lunged to the closest bowl and emptied her stomach. They were selling her as a slave! She had to escape. One glance outside the wagon and she knew she wouldn’t survive. Dry desert as far as the eye could see. She’d have to bide her time and perhaps find someone to help her, but the two barely left her alone long enough to relieve herself.

  Late one afternoon, the driver called out, “Master, we are entering the city.”

  Anna glanced out to see a tall red wall protecting numerous mud-brick buildings with flat roofs and square towers. Larger, white buildings rose behind these, many of which were domed. A dirty river flowed around one side of the outer wall, lined by tall palms. Soon they were at its gates. The tent-filled streets teemed with camels, horses, and people, all battling their way through the dusty sand. The heat was like an oven, with little breeze in between the numerous buildings.

  A market. Her head pounded as she squinted into the blistering sunshine. She must be in Tagora, the arid country to the south not on friendly terms with her homeland. The cruel lord Anwar ruled Tagora and made his home in the capital city, Kasdod. Her father had long suspected Anwar was not content with Tagora and wanted to rule the north with all its fertile fields and mines of gems as well.

  “Pull up here,” said the short man, pointing to a medium-sized tent filled with bott
les, spices, rugs, bath salts, all kinds of jewelry and colorful fabrics. The men forced her out of the wagon onto the sweltering ground.

  Anna tried one more time. She’d rather throw herself at the feet of her father than be a slave forever. “Please. My father will pay more for me even than lord Anwar could imagine,” she said to the short man, bracing for the strike that never came.

  “Return you?” The man laughed. Anna’s stomach dropped. “No, we don’t go back for another three months. Soon it will be too hot to cross the desert.” He shrugged. “What would your father be able to give us, anyway? A pig?” Both men laughed. “A poor peasant doesn’t even own the land he sweats on every day, how could he begin to pay the price you’ll get for us here?”

  Anna tucked her chin in feigned resignation. The dry wind blew her hair in all directions and flapped the wagon’s canvas behind her. Before long, the man uncorked his canteen and threw his head back in a long drink. Seeing her chance, Anna bolted around the wagon. She dashed under the legs of the tired horses and scurried out the other side, scrambling for a shop just a few feet away with long sheets of fabric covering the entrance. She sprinted headlong into the arms of the driver. She flailed and punched, but found herself twisted and thrown to the ground in seconds. She tasted gritty dirt as he yanked her arms behind her back and secured them with rope. She tugged against the bonds. The other man joined him and jammed a knee in her back.

  “Now look what you’ve done. I had you all cleaned up.”

  Anna struggled. “You, you scum! My father’s the king, I tell you! You don’t know what you are doing!”

  “It won’t be long,” the man said. “My friend has already gone to find them.” He pulled her to her feet and dusted her off like a prized horse. Anna cringed.

  “Who?”

  But the man turned away. Anna’s heart pounded in her ears. Dizziness swept through her. Maybe they do believe me. Will this truly be the demise of my father? Would they hold me for ransom? She imagined her father crossing the desert with hundreds of men risking their lives to get her back. She didn’t want to be the cause of any widow’s tears. She’d caused her father too much trouble as it was.

  Anna’s hands grew numb as the ropes cut into her wrists. Finally a group of men approached. One motioned to her. He cut her ropes and tossed the short man a bag of coins. His eyes traveled over her, resting for a moment on her bruised head.

  “She’ll heal up fine,” he said over his shoulder. He inspected her hands. “Soft for a peasant’s yet calloused like you are used to holding a set of reins, but not heavy work, I suspect.”

  Anna shook her head.

  “You’d make a servant in the lord’s house.” He led her away through the streets with the rope still tied to one of her wrists. Perhaps this lord will have mercy on me and return me to my father.

  Anna took a deep breath, in a vain attempt to settle her nerves, but the heat mixed with the potent smell of the exotic cloth, spices, flowers, nuts and varieties of strange braided breads made her lightheaded again. Several women peeked at her behind their veils. All the women wore them as they meandered through the market carrying baskets, their children in tow. The man stopped at a stand and bought a dress and a head covering.

  “It wouldn’t do for you to enter the lord’s service dressed like that.” He motioned to the back of the tent. “Get changed.”

  Anna struggled with the strange clothes and tried to remember how the women were wearing them. Don’t panic. There must be a way out of this. She finally emerged, recoiling under the man’s critical scowl.

  “That will do for now.” He jerked her arm.

  He led her on for some time, winding through the many streets until they left the busyness behind. Here, large, white buildings loomed over her. Their polished walls were decorated with ornate trim. Horseshoe-shaped doors, entryways and arches were adorned with intricate, colorful mosaics. The buildings grew larger and more opulent as they went. She stopped in her tracks at the beauty of one in particular. Blueish-green marble lined the walls around black front doors which were topped with a complicated tiled design of aqua and gold flowers, reaching up to a large golden mosaic, crowning the entire entrance. She had to crane her neck back to see the top.

  The man tugged her arm. She snapped back to attention. The street was quiet as they approached a huge gate at the center of a great stone wall.

  “This is our lord’s house, the great Vahia palace,” he said. “You will serve here.”

  “And who are you?”

  “I am Kumud. You will report to me. I tell you what to do and when to do it.”

  “Please suffer one more question.” Anna spoke quietly and did not meet his eyes. “Who is the lord of the palace?”

  “Lord Anwar, of course,” said Kumud.

  Anna’s heart sank. Lord Anwar! She shuddered to think of what he’d do if he discovered who she was. Her hope fell.

  “No more questions. Do not speak to men unless you are spoken to. The master is not as forgiving as I am. His punishment is swift and irreversible,” Kumud said. The gate creaked open and Anna stepped into another world. Perfumed air swirled around them as they started up a white path which stretched to the entrance to the palace. It was flanked with tall, lush trees, landscaped bushes and flowering plants.

  Anna couldn’t help taking a second look when a one-handed servant walked by as they entered the palace doors.

  “He was caught stealing food,” said Kumud, following her gaze.

  Anna walked silently behind her new master over polished marble floors. Kumud showed her to a room where all the clothes were washed. Thick, humid air scented with soap hit her in the face.

  “You will work here,” he said. “Our master has many guests and expects all the linens to be fresh. You will carry water from the well, heat it, wash the linens, wring them out, hang them to dry, iron them and put them away. And then you will attend to any other duties I assign.”

  He then led her to the servants’ quarters, pointing her to an empty cot.

  “This is where you sleep,” he said. “The other maids will show you where to get your meals. Begin your work. You eat at sundown.” He left Anna with her mouth gaping under her veil.

  An older woman bustled in and yelled something at her. Anna barely understood her thick accent, but she got the idea the woman wanted her to follow.

  She led her to the workroom where women were busy washing many sheets and other clothes. Another group was neatly folding sheets and towels. The older woman pushed her toward them. Anna began folding as well, trying to watch what the other women were doing. The folded pile soon grew large and several women were carrying them away. Anna picked some up and asked where they were going. A woman motioned for her to follow.

  They headed back toward the front of the palace where the guests stayed, walking across the back of a large room with many dining tables. Anna kept her eyes on the girl’s back in front of her as they padded on. They continued down a hall where the first servant opened a large closet full of silky sheets and soft towels. Anna unloaded her sheets and returned to the washroom. She repeated this process many times until she thought her arms and back would give out.

  She stole quick glances at the other women. Their ages ranged from young teens to middle-aged. Some of the women were kind, nodding and gently showing her a better way to fold. A couple were outright rude, speaking harshly and impatiently as Anna took too long to accomplish her task.

  Mostly, though, they were silent. Perhaps years of labor with little hope of life ever changing contributed to their downcast eyes, fearful steps and expressionless faces. Anna couldn’t know.

  After a long day of laundry, Anna finally sat down to dinner, which turned out to be a rice dish seasoned with strong spices. As hungry as she was, she barely choked it down. The fiery spices burned her throat. Her eyes glazed with tears as she gulped water in between bites. The other women blinked at her in surprise.

  Kumud entered just as she emptied he
r glass of water. His narrow eyes scanned the room as he instructed them to hurry and clean the dining area. The guests were retiring. Anna had been hoping she’d hear something about bed. Instead, she followed another girl to the dining area and started picking up dishes. Her hands shook from fatigue. She carried load after load to the kitchen and began several hours of washing and drying. Most of the other women swept and mopped the floors on their hands and knees in the dining area while Anna worked in the kitchen.

  One girl followed Anna to dry as she washed. Her dress was little more than cotton rags, but her deep brown eyes were kind.

  “Where have you come from?” she whispered.

  Anna jumped. Hardly any of the women had spoken to her all day. “I was captured far from here and sold just today,” answered Anna. “What is your name?”

  “Micah.” She flashed a quick smile. “And yours?”

  “Anna.”

  Micah seemed to be around Anna’s age. “How long have you been here?”

  The girl shrugged. “My whole life. My mother was a slave for the lord.”

  “Where is she now?” asked Anna as she rinsed yet another plate. They would need fresh water soon.

  “I don’t know,” Micah answered. “She made a mistake a couple years ago, and he sold her.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m hoping he sold her.” Micah’s brow furrowed, and she blinked back tears.

  Such fear and pain lived behind the gentle girl’s eyes. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

  “You don’t know the lord. He is neither kind nor forgiving.” Her eyes fell.

  Anna remembered the servant who was missing a hand.

  “Do you ever dream of leaving here?” Anna whispered.

  “Shh—you don’t want anyone to hear you say that! It’s grounds for, for...” She left her words hang and shuddered. “Just don’t talk like that. Anyway, all I have ever known has been within these walls. It is my delight to serve the Lord Anwar.”

  Anna pitied her for a moment and with a pang remembered that she, too, was trapped in this world.