Kalin's Story
"It's hot." Erra glanced at out the mouth of the cave, but the sky wasn't yet light. Somewhere in the east it might be pinkening, but from what he could see from the northwest facing cave mouth, it was still dark.
"Well, yeah." That was one of the other Knights, Jall. "What did you expect?"
"I expected it to be hot, but it's night. You'd think it would cool off."
"Not only is it night, but it's also late autumn," his friend added. "Enjoy it."
"It's unnatural," Erra objected. He sighed. "I miss home."
"You would." Jall made a noise that served to convey his disgust. "Prince."
"I'm not."
"Anymore," Jall pointed out.
"Look, the Goddess Called me and I answered. And what do you have against royalty, anyway?"
"Nothing." Jall smirked. "It's just that you're spoiled rotten, Sir Prince."
"What, because I miss normal, decent temperatures?"
"Erra, this is nice. Don't you think itˆïs nice not to have to wear eight layers to keep from freezing to death in this cave?"
"No. I think it's unnatural." He stood, and declared, "I'm going to wake everyone; I've been on watch and haven't slept since midnight."
"t's barely dawn," Jall objected. "Let them sleep. They're paranoid and probably miss home as much as you do."
"Oh?"
"Well, not me," Jall said hastily. "But we've been on this Island for what, a month? And we haven't done anything. There are certain people who think perhaps we ought to just leave."
"We were sent," Erra insisted stubbornly. They'd had this argument every morning for the past week. "Kaleal Herself sent us, and I'm not leaving until I've found whoever it is we're looking for."
"Whoever it is had better come soon or you're likely to have a mutiny on your hands," Jall said. "Your men are tired and homesick."
"And you?"
"I can take this." He shrugged. "It beats actually living here."
"What part of the Island were you from?" Erra asked, leaning against the gravel wall of the cave.
Jall stood to join him. They were nearly the same height; Jall was a few inches taller but Erra carried himself taller. It came from his Royal upbringing, as did the air of command he carried about himself, even when he was bantering with Jall.
"Southwest," Jall said. "Though if it's just the same to you, I'd rather not discuss it."
"Of course. Sorry," Erra apologized. Jall always seemed so calm about the fifteen years he spent in slavery it was easy to forget how painful those memories were for him. Erra sighed. "I should wake everyone. The sun's coming up."
[OPENING CREDITS]
Episode 8: When You Get The Chance
"Well, boy?" Elthis asked, his voice dripping smugness. He was standing next to his desk, leaning on it with one hand, smirking. Taylin stood on the other side of the room, watching Elthis because he couldn't bring himself to look at Kalin. He half regretted the conversation they'd had the night before; he knew about the slave's habit of using blackmail and this certainly would qualify as useful information... But on the other hand, the boy hadn't seemed too hostile...
Kalin took a deep breath and looked up at Elthis. "No."
"What?"
Kalin flinched from the sound of his his voice, and again when he saw the look of boiling anger on Elthis' face. "No. Sir."
Elthis narrowed his eyes and his hand went to his sword. There was the sound of metal on metal as he drew it, then crossed the room. Elthis grabbed Kalin's left wrist with his own left hand, and twisted violently. He kept turning until the boy's arm was on the verge of breaking, then pushed down—
Kalin fell to his knees, the only way to keep his arm in one piece. He felt his hand get slammed down on to the Lord's desk—saw the sword raise—
"I should have know," Elthis snarled. "You're a slave—nothing but a slave, nothing more than a slave. You don't deserve anything better than slavery, boy—I'll never know why I wasted my time... my sympathy... on you."
Kalin opened his mouth to answer, but before the words could come out—sympathy you should have shown your daughter instead—the sword came down. Kalin screamed and Elthis released his arm.
"Take care of him," he snarled to Taylin, then turned and left the room, still clutching the bloody sword.
Kalin couldn't stop screaming, he couldn't even form swear words. His arm hurt, worse than anything he'd ever felt before. Worse than when they'd broken his arm or his leg, worse than any of the times he'd felt a whip...
He was dizzy from blood loss already. The world kept swimming in front of him, from black to blurry and back. He gave Taylin a scared look, then tried to rise off his knees. As he stood, he turned to look, to see what Elthis had done to his arm, and promptly passed out.
"I'm sorry," was all Taylin could say to the boy's unconscious figure. "Sundancer... I'm sorry."
Taylin crossed the room and stepped in to the hall. The screaming had attracted a few people, and he commandeered one. "Go. Get the Healer. Quickly!" Scared, the young man ran off to do as told.
Taylin stepped back in to the room and winced from the sight of Kalin. He'd fallen and landed hard on his shoulder; his wrist was bleeding out of the end. Lying on the desk, severed completely, was Kalin's left hand.
The warrior felt an urge to be sick, and staggered to the waste bin barely in time. "Sundancer..." he whispered, as the Healer walked in.
"My Lord, are you ill?"
"Yes..." Taylin said weakly, straightening up. "But take care of him..." he pointed vaguely in Kalin's direction.
"I ought to tend you first, my Lord," the Healer insisted.
Taylin wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and commanded, "Him first. I've thrown up before."
"He's only a slave."
"Do it!"
The Healer winced, then nodded. He knelt next to Kalin and took the bleeding wrist in his hand. "Sundancer, why me?" he asked quietly, as he concentrated. A warm orange glow spread over his hands and then consumed Kalin's wrist. When it faded, the bleeding had stopped and the end of the stump had scabbed over.
"Can you..." Taylin started to ask.
"No. That would be impossible. My Lord." The healer stood. "He should have a few medications, though, if you'd be so kind as to carry him to my office." With that he strode out of the room.
Taylin glanced out the window. It was barely past dawn. He wondered if Kalin would have chosen freedom if it wasn't for their conversation... If he'd still have his hand. He wondered how Serissa would react. He wondered what Slenna would have thought...
Hellas... Slenna. I'm sorry...
He knew what she'd have thought. She'd have killed Elthis; she'd have killed him for watching without stopping it. She'd have done anything for her son.... She'd never have let this happen to him.
Kalin is right. She must have been killed. She'd never have let slavers take him.
He picked the hand up off the desk and bit back the urge to be sick again, then knelt and picked up Kalin. Taylin carried him gently, in his arms rather than slung over his shoulder. The boy deserves some dignity, at least. "You. Find someone to clean up the mess in there," he said as he passed through the small, gaping crowd.
Slenna... Kalin... I'm sorry.
Serissa strode in to the room. "Taylin, what in Hell-" she started. Taylin held up a hand to silence her. They were both in the room where the Healer had demanded Kalin sleep until he woke, a small room next to the Healer's office. It was furnished sparsely, with a bed (where Kalin lay, still unconscious), and a chair, which was occupied by Taylin. He'd been staring out the window, waiting to see what was going to happen next.
He wasn't at all surprise when Serissa showed up.
"Kalin was caught preaching last night. It's illegal. By law, he had to be punished-" Taylin carefully omitted the choice Elthis had offered Kalin- "and your father chose to cut off his hand rather than his tongue, which would have been the standard punishment." He bit back a remark about how lucky it was that the boy could still kiss.
"He did what?" Serissa half screamed.
"Riss!" Taylin said sharply. "You probably shouldn't be here. If Soran finds you, he'll kill Kalin." Serissa sobered at the mention of her fiancé, and her face suddenly contorted into a look of.... Taylin couldn't quite figure out what the look on her face was, but knew it wasn't happy. "But I won't try to keep you away from him, ever."
"Thank you..." she whispered. "Is... Is he all right? What did the Healer say?"
"The Healer said he'd recover from the blood loss fairly well—one would think the boy would be used to it by now—and he can keep the stump from getting infected. But there's no way to fix his hand..."
"Oh." She finally let herself examine her love. He looked almost peaceful in his comatose state; his breathing was slow and even and he had a slight smile on his lips. If it hadn't been for the bandage that covered the end of his left wrist, he would have looked perfectly normal.
"Serissa, I'm sorry. I wish..." he paused, trying to figure out what to say. "I wish I could have stopped your father."
She gave him a sudden, skeptical look. "Why?" she asked simply.
"What?"
"Why would you want to stop my father? You're a Warrior and a High Lord. He's a slave. You said yourself it's the law."
"Um." Taylin looked away from her and out the window for a minute. "There's something about that boy that I..."
"His name is Kalin."
Taylin smiled. "There's something about Kalin. He's... I don't know, pure, I suppose. In his beliefs, and his love for you."
She didn't say anything, and Taylin decided to take the opportunity to ask her a few questions. "What happened to you, Riss? A few weeks ago. You've been... Sad. Since then."
"They sent Kalin back to the field," she said, a little too quickly. Kalin had taught her how to lie and she really didn't want to talk about what had happened, but she hadn't had much of a chance to practice.
"Oh." Taylin glanced out the window again, then, "But you started this when he was still in the House. I asked him about it, he said to ask you."
"He did." She didn't sound happy about it.
"Yes, Serissa. What happened? Did the two of you fight, or—"
"No!" she cut him off. "It was... nothing..." She sat down on the edge of Kalin's bed. "Please, my Lord. I don't want to... It was nothing. I'm fine."
"What was nothing?"
"Please, my Lord," she begged.
"Serissa, this sounds—"
"Let it alone," came a groggy voice from the bed. The two Nobles turned their attention to Kalin, who was blinking blearily.
"Kalin!" Serissa exclaimed, reaching down to hug him carefully. He smiled.
"'Morning," he greeted her.
"'Morning, boy," Taylin offered.
"Kalin," he corrected out of habit. Taylin rolled his eyes.
"So what... Where am I?" Kalin didn't sound entirely awake, and he'd shut his eyes and leaned back onto the bed. He made an effort to relax; he wasn't sure where he was, but it was more comfortable than the hut where he lived.
"The Healer's suite," Serissa said. "What happened to you? I mean, I know about your hand..."
"My..." Kalin opened his eyes and looked down at his hand. "Oh." He paused. "Damn," he added, then shut his eyes firmly. "I thought that was a nightmare... I just remember a lot of blood..." He shuddered.
"Oh, Kalin," Serissa gushed. "I'm so sorry—I wish I could help. I wish..."
"Don't worry."
"Of course I'm going to worry," she said indignantly. "My father.... he..."
"Riss, I'll be fine. It's my left hand; I'm right handed. I'll learn to live with it."
"Very philosophical of you," Taylin commented.
"Go to Hell, Warrior," Kalin said, opening his eyes enough to glare at the Warrior.
"Kalin, I... If I'd know what Elthis was going to do—"
"You didn't?" Kalin scoffed. "Somehow, I don't believe that."
"I didn't," Taylin said firmly.
"What?" Serissa asked. She got the feeling they were referring to more than Kalin's hand. "What happened? Before he...." she couldn't say it out loud.
Kalin gave Taylin a disgusted look that translated to, 'You explain.'
"Your father..." Taylin sighed. Serissa wasn't going to like hearing this. He wondered how much of the truth to tell, since he didn't really want more people than necessary to know about Slenna. There was a chance she'd find out anyway; Taylin was fairly sure Kalin told her everything. But, at the same time, there was no reason to explain more than he had to. "Your father offered Kalin a choice. He was willing to set Kalin free, if he renounced Kaleal. Otherwise..."
"He offered him what?" Serissa demanded, her voice raising about an octave. Taylin and Kalin winced collectively. "He offered you what?" she asked Kalin, her voice lowering to a hiss.
"Freedom." He said the word with an edge of bitterness.
"Kalin, you're an idiot," she snapped. "Why in Hell didn't you take it?! Surely Kaleal doesn't mean—"
"She does mean that much to me, but not as much as you do. I stayed for you, not Her," Kalin interrupted.
"You—what?" Serissa sputtered.
"Taking my freedom meant never seeing you again. It was part of the deal," Kalin explained. "And since I'd die with out you—"
"You. Would. Not," Serissa said defiantly. "And you're an idiot. Next time you get a chance, you're going to take it, do you understand?"
"I somehow doubt I'll get an offer again."
"I don't mean if it's offered. I mean next time you get any chance, you're going to take it." Something scary solidified within her. She didn't want to ever live without Kalin, but if her father was willing to cut off his hand, effectively taking him out of the fields and rendering him useless, he'd be willing to kill him. She was not going to watch him die a piece at a time. "Promise me. You'll take whatever chance you... You're offered." She shot a quick, apprehensive look at Taylin.
"I didn't hear a word of that," Taylin muttered, not looking away from the window.
"Thank you. Now promise me."
"Serissa, I'm not going to leave you."
"Yes, you are." She said it as simply as that. "My father wants to kill you, Kalin, and I'm not going to watch you die. You loved me enough to stay here for me, self-sacrificing idiot that you are, but I love you enough to want you to be safe. So promise me you'll.... You'll take the next opportunity..."
"What if I don't get to say goodbye?" he asked. "I can't leave without saying goodbye."
"Yes you can. Now stop arguing and promise me."
"Serissa, I—"
"Now, Kalin. And I'm holding you to it."
He shook his head. "I'm not going to promise you this. I can't. I won't leave you."
"Yes you will, you stupid—" she cut off into a disgusted noise. "I'm begging you to. He—" she nodded towards Taylin, who was still carefully ignoring them— "practically just gave you permission. I want you to be safe, Kalin, and I want it more than anything. If..."
She trailed off. This is fighting dirty and I know it, she told herself, as she began to sniffle. She looked away from him, and buried her face in her hands, willing her eyes to mist over. She knew his weakness and took a sobbing breath. "But if you... If my father... If you died, I think I'd die, too...."
And now she was crying, very real tears. It wasn't even a lie; she was sure that she wouldn't want to live without him, so death wouldn't be ruled out.
"Serissa...." he said hesitantly.
"Please, Kalin. If you died and..." she paused to take a few short, shallow breaths through the tears. "And it was because of me, I... I couldn't... I'd.... Please..."
"Fine." He sighed. "I promise you. I'll..." he glanced at Taylin, then decided he didn't care what the Lord had heard. "I promise you I'll take any chance I get."
"Good. Thank you..." She took a few deep breaths, forcing herself to stop crying.
"The tears were unfair, though. You know I can't stand up to that."
She smiled. "That was the point, love. I want you safe. I don't want you to fight with me about this."
"Still, that was..."
She cut him off by kissing him. Taylin rolled his eyes and went back to pointedly ignoring the couple.
[EYECATCH]
Soran Candis strode lightly towards the Healer's office. He was in a particularly good mood; Elthis had confided in him about the slave's choice. He smiled. He'd always known the slave was stupid.
He was going to pay the boy a visit. Soran knew he'd have to have some excuse for being there; that didn't matter too much. He'd think of something. But he really wanted to see the slave for himself, to gloat.
To think that Serissa thought she was in love with that boy when she could have had him... It wasn't even Soran's ego that kept him from understanding; he simply couldn't comprehend why anyone would have fallen in love with a slave. It made no sense, especially not for a high born Lady like Serissa...
Well, girls did stupid things some times. But he was fairly certain that the boy wouldn't be around too much longer (Elthis had hinted at that) and then she'd get over him and turn to her fiancŽ, like she should have in the first place.
He turned into the corridor that led to the Healer's rooms, and stopped dead in his tracks. Serissa was leaving the sickroom where the slave was staying. She'd been to see him.
The thought was almost a slap in the face to the young Warrior. He'd been sure that her infatuation was because the slave kept running to her, talking to her... But if she had gone to him....
"Serissa." He said it darkly as he walked towards her, his steps heavier now.
"Soran!" she said guiltily. Well; at least she was calling him by name. It was a step in the right direction.
"What were you doing in there?"
"Nothing," she said, and he could tell she was lying. She sounded a little panicked.
"Nothing?" he repeated. "You were with that boy and you say that's 'nothing'?"
"Please, my Lord!" she begged. She was back to using formal titles. He was going to have to remind her to use his name—and remind her that she was his. He grabbed one of her wrists with his left hand, raised his right and cuffed her across the face.
She fell silent, and shrank back against the wall as far as she could. "Serissa. I already told you, I don't want you to—"
"Mister Candis!"
Taylin had let himself out of the slave's room quietly, and watched the proceedings between Soran Candis and Serissa for a minute. He didn't like what he was seeing at allˆêSoran's rage or Serissa's reaction. A few thoughts flitted through his mind.
Serissa hadn't been happy except in Kalin's presence for about a month; some sort of event had to have happened. It didn't involve Kalin; Taylin believed the boy when he said he'd never hurt Serissa. Serissa had withdrawn from the conversation when he'd mentioned Soran; Kalin had interrupted before he could really get to the bottom of things.
He put two and two together on his own. Whatever had happened, it involved Soran Candis. A few things could have been the specific event; Taylin wasn't sure how far the younger man would go. But still, several bad things could have happened.
He was going to have to stop this right away.
"Mister Candis!" he snapped, in a voice that did not allow for arguing. It was the one he used to command people on a battlefield, and Soran reacted instinctively as Warrior being addressed by someone who outranked him. In one fluid motion, he dropped Serissaˆïs arm and turned to stand at attention, saluting.
It would have almost been comical, if the situation hadn't been so serious.
"What in Ocando's Heaven do you think you are doing?" he demanded, marching closer but not returning the salute that would have relieved Soran of his attention pose. Soran stood silent, frozen as decorum demanded. "I asked you a question, Warrior."
"Disciplining my Lady. Sir," Soran finally spat, trying to control the sneer that was developing.
"What is my Title, Mister Candis?" Taylin demanded next.
"High Lord. Sir," came the bitter reply.
"And you are within my demesne. True?" A nod. "And Lady Aleann is one of my subjects." It was a question framed as a statement, and it got a nod in response. "I do not tolerate wife beaters, Mister Candis."
He could have tried to argue that they weren't married yet, but Soran wasn't stupid. "It is the right and duty of the husband to protect his wife from... things she shouldn't experience. To do whatever is necessary to keep her away from such things."
"I do not tolerate wife beaters." He repeated it carefully, slowly. "For any reason, Mister Candis." He paused, and glanced at Serissa, who was still trying to sink into the wall. He smiled kindly at her for a second, then said, "Child, go to your room. You don't need to be troubled with this."
"Y-yes, my Lord..." she stuttered, then turned and fled. Soran glared daggers at the older man, but stayed at attention.
Taylin stood and regarded the younger Warrior for a long moment, a few thoughts running through his head. He wondered if he'd have been so quick to jump to any other girl's defense —while it was true he never tolerated men who hurt women when he found them, he also didn't take the trouble to look for them. Serissa, on the other hand, was like a daughter to him.
He'd been there when she was born, the year before he'd been captured. Elthis had always been one of his close friends, and at that point Taylin assumed he was going to marry soon and have children—a son. It was an unspoken agreement between himself and Elthis that if he had a son, their children would wed... But it never happened.
Taylin was captured and when he returned, much changed, two years later, he met and married Alanna. She was perfect: beautiful, kind-hearted, gentle and she adored him. But she was barren. Taylin loved her too much to put her aside when the Healers found out, and resigned himself to never being a father. It was suggested he could remarry after Alanna died, but he was heartbroken and had no urge to even look at another woman.
But that didn't stop him from caring for Serissa as if she was a future daughter-in-law; he adored the girl who'd practically grown up in his Keep. The way Elthis treated her always infuriated him, but he never spoke up about it-Elthis was his closest friend. Had it been anyone else, he'd have stopped the behavior long ago, but he turned away when it was Elthis.
Soran Candis didn't have that same privilege, but even as Taylin watched him, letting him wait anxiously, he knew he'd have to bring it up with Elthis. The Lord wouldn't be happy about it, but Serissa's safety was more important.
Kalin would never forgive him if anything happened to her. He spared a thought for the slave who was making him look at things so differently and making him feel with more intensity than he had since... Since Alanna died. He thought of his wife, who he had been truly happy with.... And he thought of Slenna.
As he stood silently, he found himself wondering why Ocando would give him two such amazing women during one lifetime—and take them both away again after so short a time. He and Slenna had less than two years; it took them a long time to realize they were in love and wanted to be together. And then she was gone from his life forever.
He and Alanna had been married for five years. He wondered how Slenna and Alanna would have gotten along, if they'd have liked each other. He wondered if Slenna would mind that he'd married Alanna.... Or if Alanna would have been upset to know about the Knight.
"Mister Candis." He finally pulled himself back to the present and spoke darkly. "What happened between you and Serissa a month ago?" No point in beating around the bush.
"Nothing," Soran said, suddenly alert. He started to lower his arm, which was getting rather tired, but a sharp look from Taylin stopped him.
"'Nothing'?" Taylin quoted. "Then explain her behavior for the past month. Her behavior around you, Mister Candis. I've been watching closely."
"I have no idea what you mean."
"I think you do."
"I really don't," Soran said. "And I object to be questioned like this—when I've done nothing wrong and nothing suspicious." Now he did drop the salute.
"Like Hell you haven't," Taylin snapped. "And I really don't care if you object. I'm the ranking Warrior and Lord, and I'm much more experienced—and skilled—than you are." He let himself smirk a tiny bit; he was usually fairly modest but he'd had a good deal more practice than Soran Candis had, and as a result, he was the better swordsman. "So again, for the last time, I ask: What happened a month ago that's upset her so much?"
"None of your business."
"Yes, it is."
Soran paused, then muttered, "I explained some things to her."
"Explained what? How?
"She... that boy—" he cut off. "Do you have any idea what that boy has done to her?"
"Probably a better idea than you do," Taylin answered. "What did you do to 'explain'?" He waited, then prompted, "Hit her like you just did?"
"Some."
"Worse?" Taylin knew the answer was yes, and wondered if Soran was going to be dumb enough to lie to him.
"It was important," he said, by way of admission. "She and that boy were going to—I had to have her first. She's mine."
Taylin was caught off guard for a moment, but managed not to show it. "You. Did. What?" he demanded, and the stony silence from Soran was enough to confirm what happened.
Anger flared inside him, and he measured the consequences of what he was about to do, then decided he didn't care. Taylin raised one hand and echoed Soran's earlier action by backhanding him across the face.
For a moment, neither man moved, then Soran reached for the hilt of his sword. "I wouldn't," Taylin warned in a deadly calm voice.
Soran glared at him, as he drew his sword. Half-coherant thoughts flew through his mind; Serissa was his, it was none of this stupid old manˆïs business, Taylin could never understand what it was like to know that his wife—fiancée—wanted someone else, someone so far beneath him...
And somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that drawing his sword on Taylin was stupid for a lot of reasons. He was dimly aware that Taylin was more skilled than he and that he'd end up losing the fight. Worse, he knew from experience what could happen when a minor Lord's second son threatened a High Lord... It was different last time, though; he was only fourteen and Kieris was twelve. And Kieris deserved it; he was asking for it.
They hadn't punished him too badly, not as much as they'd threatened to. After all, he was only a boy and Kieris hadn't really been hurt all that badly... But Kieris' father was the High Lord, and it made things tense for his family for a long time. And the way Soran's father had reacted to the fight—well, Soran was no stranger to being hit; it just made him mad.
It made him more mad, too, Serissa had listened to this idiot Lord instead of staying with him. She was supposed to stay with him. That was what a good fiancée would have done. He'd have to speak to her about it later...
But for now, he was in trouble. He couldn't hide behind youth to avoid being hung for attacking a High Lord, so he was in trouble if he won as much as if he lost.
Taylin had hoped it wouldn't come to this. He didn't want to fight a fellow Warrior; he didn't want anyone to get hurt. Not himself (and as good as he was, he could be hurt) and not Soran. But at the same time...
He drew his sword as he stepped back. Soran began to attack and Taylin gave ground down the corridor, then feinted, spun, and sliced up Soran's arm enough to cut badly. Soran backed off for a moment, biting down the pain, and it was long enough for Taylin to decide how to handle the fight.
Before Soran really had a chance to recover, Taylin began to press the attack. Startled, the younger Warrior retreat hastily, barely able to keep Taylin's sword from scoring on him. He was too busy trying to keep from being killed to find he was being steadily backed into a corner--until his back slammed into a wall.
Taylin flicked his sword around, forcing Soran's hand to bend back and finally release his blade. He glared up at Taylin with a look of panic mixed with anger. For a moment, they both stood silently, and then Taylin finally said, "Yield."
Soran nodded, knowing that if he spoke he'd say something incredibly stupid. He always did when he lost a fight; his temper ran away with his mouth. He hated losing. So instead of speaking, he stood, every muscle in his body clenched, bleeding in several places and his face bruised, and waited to find out what the High Lord was going to do to him.
"You are not going to marry Serissa."
And that was all. Taylin sheathed his sword, turned, and strode back into the room where the slave slept. Soran stayed still until the door shut behind him, then exhaled and tried to force himself to calm down. This was bad. Elthis would be extremely mad at him. But it could have been worse—he wasn't fool enough not to realize Taylin could have him hung, or could simply have killed him himself.
He retrieved his sword and limped off to tend his wounds.