Chapter Twenty: Running Swiftly
Running swiftly, the small figure seemed no more than the shadow of a cloud. The guards didn’t even turn their heads at that barely perceptible noise which the slippered feet made across the cold marble floor. The figure stopped in the shadow of one of the columns, much thankful for the ancient Roman architects from Earth, 5000 years before the beginning of Nadidian time.
A soft wind blew, and the girl shivered. She was dressed in a light blue silk shirt, and dark black trousers. Her shape and form were that of a dancer, as were her clothes indicated. The black, sturdy slippers seemed out of place, as the ancient dance-form of Balé, from the Earth form Ballet, used gay colored slippers of a thin material. In addition to that, she was wearing chains around her ankles. The twin suns were setting in the sky, and as night fell it grew colder and colder. The first sun, Trialine, was already gone, and her sister, Corder, was not more than too minutes away from disappearing behind the horizon.
Emily, for that was her name, looked quietly around her, the twilight hiding her petite silhouette from the eyes of the sentries. Her hair, that of new and natural honey, hung short and straight around her shoulders. Her eyes, glancing forward and back, were bright with anticipation. From the ground where she was crouched, she vigilantly averted her gaze to that of the men standing not one hundred yards away, laughing. Carefully, she crawled closer to them, making certain that her manacles did not clank, closer to the door. Five feet from them, Emily saw the snake.
Emily could not help it. She let out a slight scream of terror. For, though on Nadidian there were big snakes, this snake was far larger than most, and she knew of its purpose. It was a trained snake, trained to kill any and all slaves who dare try to pass it. Emily knew it was hopeless from that moment on. Defeat or death was upon her. She chose defeat, telling herself that death would be a defeat beyond all. Besides, the sentries were looking, furtively, at her, pretending not to notice her, hoping for a snack for their pet.
Emily stood, willing herself to look humble. “So, Emily thought you could pull a fast one on us, right?” Frederick asked.
“Yeah, well, I was just playing around with you. It’s like, you know, a game. I was just wondering if you would catch me this time, never doubting that you would. I mean you two are the bes . . .”
“Get off it, little human. We Seakings are smarter than you think,” Edgar snarled, his repulsively grimy fingernails digging deeply her shoulder.
“Lemme go, will ya? I’m gonna draw blood pretty soon if ya don’t stop it with your dirty nails!” Emily exclaimed, shaking her little head vigorously.
“Yes, Princess Emily! For the sake of the Gods in the Heavens above, I hope they do not kill you! It was the biggest mistake we ever made when we captured that stupid home of yours, Torrave. We should have killed you, like we did to your parents,” Free said, laughing at the poor little face of Emily as it became unrecognizable as it twisted with loathing.
“You killed my parents? I thought they were enslaved to the Chief of Second Command! When did you kill them?” Emily stumbled along the road toward the quarters of the dancing favorites of the Chief of First Command.
“Acht! The first night we got ya! Who told you that?” Edgar said, looking at her strangly.
“His Majesty, Chief of the First Command, Zoqan the Conquorer, who has kept me here in bondage all these two long years, told me the first time that I inquired of their health! Of their life! And he said they were all right,” Emily whispered the last sentence.
“It was his will. A rather funny will, but his at that,” Free said, laughing his big jolly laugh again. “I can’t believe you tried to run off again. I shan’t inform him; after all, you are his favorite entertainer of the dance, and his favorite slave above all, except for his wives. In fact, I believe that when you reach the age of 16, he might add you to his harem. That is an honor for one not of the Seaking blood.”
“You revolt me, Free. Leave me be with my thoughts. I shan’t run off again. Tonight is wasted if I can’t sleep. Leave me,” Emily started, and then stopped, facing them once more. “And Free, I’m not a princess. At the death of my parents, I became a Queen,” Emily turned her heal and marched into the rather comfortable room she shared with five others.
Edgar whistled, “That one sure knows how to keep her dignity. Such composure. No wonder His Majesty favors her.”
“Ay, and so does Jehan, when he comes. He seems to have known her before-hand.”
“You mean the Shawn chap who spells his name oddly? Uh-yup. He grew up in her palace, that’s when we converted him. He was her cousin and playmate. That’s why he likes to make certain she is taken care of.
“O, well, Jehan does look a smidge like her, but I don’t think there’s too much of a resemblance.”
“You fool! Emily’s own mum died, and her step-mum raised her. Jehan's aunt was her step-mum. There’s no blood relation!”
“O. Who cares? Let’s get back to our post before they have our necks!”
And Frederick and Edgar left.
