Born Under A Bad Sign
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
7:57 AM
Whoever said children brought the pitter patter of little feet, obviously did not have children. It often bemused her, how a child so slight and willowy of frame, could make so much noise running down the hall without the aid of shoes. "Oma! Oma! Tavian and I would like tea." Saeth spoke with an assertive uptilt of her small chin. Bare foot, and pant-clad. Her dark hair long and wild about her face, with little beaded braids that littered the sable curls like her kaiila. Her father's cool blue eyes beguiled with their innocence. Something Savana longed to preserve in her for as long as she could.
She looked like Sahara now, the last time she'd been allowed to see her. Now and then she had asked the daughter of Rune about them. In time, it was easier not to ask, than learn second hand of the lives she had brought forth but could not be a part of. The loss of the twins was grieved, but accepted. If the First were to find her alive all these years later, it was not without possibility that they would both be hunted, leaving both children with no true parent. Nashoti had not always been a good man, but he was always a good father. And while Savana also, was not always a good woman, she was always a good mother. She would not jeapordize the lives of her children for the sake of unfinished betrayals. They were her crosses to bear alone.
"Where is Tavian?" Lifting up from the couch, she lightly tugged one of the small messy braids and began to head into the kitchen. "In my room," Saeth murmured, following her mother impatiently only to become distracted by the cookies that Shane had made earlier in the day left to cool on the table. "He would like cookies too.." she added quickly, gathering one or four in both hands. "Oh he would eh?" Savana smirked, setting the familiar tea pot on the stove and leaning one hip to the counter. "Yes," Cherubic blue eyes looked up around an armful of cookies and wild dark hair, "Honest, Oma. We're picking our High Council. Cicero needs cookies too, and Cedric." She was a good liar, her daughter. That didn't surprise her, but it did evoke a small cluck of her tongue. "Go upstairs, Gina will bring your tea."
Saeth grinned and turned to run for the stairs, "Sae.." The little bare foot hellion came to a halt and turned, looking back quizzically at her mother, "If you're going to bribe him with cookies, at least make sure you get a good seat on the council." Saeth sniffed, "I am High Magistrate." She tossed her head with all the pride her lineage entitled her and fled up the stairs, careful not to drop her cookies along the way.
"High Magistrate.." Gina whistled, stepped into the kitchen, taking down a tray to set up tea-time for Thing 1 and Thing 2. "How awkward." Savana smirked, setting the teapot of slightly warmed juice on the tray, "Sarlin has to retire some time though."
Gina just sighed, shaking her head while taking down two small cups. "I will need you to watch Saeth at the end of the hand," Leaning up from the counter, she snagged a cookie from the table to take a bite, flipping through the opened letters that had been delivered that morning. "Working again?" Gina queried, hoisting the tray into her arms. "Sort of," the scroll opened earlier in the day lifted briefly and studied again, "I have a date with the First Physician of Ar. We're going to a coming out party. I think that means I can dress as the boy."
Gina just groaned, laughing, "You can't go anywhere without intentionally ruffling feathers can you?"
"Why would I try? I'm the most entertainment this city ever sees."
Labels: Serenus Aria
Once upon a midnight dreary..
Monday, June 23, 2008
8:43 AM
Mika is and has been gone for some time now. He left with his brothers on a trip I know not the origins of nor reasons for. He assured me he will return, but regardless I have prepared myself in the event he does not. Men are wayward creatures by design and there is no use in mourning their inevitable absenses. Now that I am alone in the estate, I've hired a woman to tend to a task I have been requiring for some time. She is aged, educated, and servicable. She also isn't averse to cooking, which relieves me of the chore now that Shane has left. It appears since the pyre for the murdered Alar was completed, there have been no more flying dishware, nor hulking shadows. It is my hope that the restless spirit of the dishonored has passed. I would hate to have to explain the disturbances to Madeline.
In the interim, I've begun the search for my brother. One of many brothers. Not by blood, of course, I have no such siblings. To say I am displeased would be understating the dilemma, but evidently I am not afforded the courtesy of chosing my partner in this contract. I imagine he will be as enthralled with the idea as myself. I do not doubt his professionalism however. The job will get done. We can move on with our lives, if all goes well, after we are paid.
I was granted some down time with Mi'niwozan yesterday afternoon. She too hunts. I have promised my aid in locating her mark. There may come a time that I need her aid as well. Alliances are not unwise in our line of work. Politics I have realized, transcend caste and wealth. They are, I suppose, simply inherent to mankind.
Labels: Kajira Waterfalls
Heavy is the head..
Monday, June 2, 2008
8:28 PM
"What of The Sea?" he asked, leaning back into the layers of thick animal fur to regard the woman across from him.
"She has been reassigned. I do not know when she will return." Savana did not recline, though she appeared to the bare eye, relaxed. Calm even, despite the erect posture taken upon the pelts. Her unusual stillness broken now and then to draw upon the rolled bidi, exhaling a thin stream of grey that lifted wraith-like toward the den's ceiling.
"Someone else, is taking her place then?" He pressed, leaning forward to rest his arms against the edge of the table, nearly knocking over the half drunk cup of kalda that perched precariously. "Who?"
Savana tsk'd, the chastisement however lacked offense, and all amounts of mockery instead. She lowered her hand, flicking the accumulating ash into the well in the table, "You know better than to ask me these things."
"Our agreement still stands, does it not?" Leaning back again, he took the cup with him and finished off the dregs of the foul brew. Savana reached for her own drink, downing the contents, and perching the bidi betwixt her lips, she began to lift from the table with as much serpentesque fluidity as the smoke that rose from the embered end of her herbal cigarette. Plucking it from her mouth with one hand, the other reached for the bandolier that laid cross-wise upon the table and shouldered it, "I have taken coin, Mordred."
Labels: Rabid Sleen Ar
Noli me tangere..
Friday, May 16, 2008
6:26 PM
He was..perhaps still is..angry with me. I watched him storm from the Square when I declined his request that I accompany him back to Serenus Aria. The muscle clenching in his jaw, I know what was going through his mind. I suppose that in some respects, it annoys me all the more. I warned him. Many times. If he wished a woman at his heel or on his arm, he should have taken one from his caste. Did he? Does he think to change me? You cannot change a person. To think you can is to set yourself up for disappointment.
I had work the evening that the vials of Virlium Medicinal Tonic were sold to the public. Though, the Savant son seems to assume if I am not elbow deep in a man's gore, then I am not technically working. While I would like to disclose truths to him, obligations to my caste and his previous breach of trust make that impossible. I cannot afford another slip of his tongue, certainly not in this regard. Not with his professed obligations to Scarlet.
Mika's displeasure with me, is soon to tenfold.
Brutus Aurelius returns to Ar this hand. I am curious as to if Claudius will celebrate the return, or meet him at the gates with his armies at his back. Mordred has summoned me. I can only fathom as pawns are slid into place, and houses find temporary succor in each others' feigned alliegances, that it will end not with a bang but a whimper.
Labels: Great Square of Ar
Poetry in the Margin
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
1:38 PM
Betrayal...
Sticks in the throat, till death to choke.
After the knives
comes the ache
sad farewell
to what once was.
Amanda L Harris
Progeny
Monday, April 28, 2008
11:05 AM
Saeth Kevari
Labels: Savant Estate
Ebb and Flow
Sunday, April 20, 2008
9:06 AM
The Poet's play is in a couple of days. I was not sure I wished to go. No, in fact I know I had no desire to go. Unfortunately, Mika has made arrangements that we will go, and now I am obligated due to promises made to two women. Women... I will admit I enjoyed very much watching Catastrophe, Poetry, and Lucien throw veiled daggers at one another. I suppose that makes me a bad person. Even worse for stirring the pot and watching it boil over. I never professed to be moral.
Mika was to journey to Ar Station with his brothers to meet the caravan transporting Brutus Aurelius. He has since decided not to leave, and frankly I am not crying any tears over this. I do not know what his involvement is, beyond the strange gaggle of men that come and go with their secret handshakes and talk of tarns. My guess is they are funded by the Gens Elite Houses, with their own machinations as to the current politics in Ar. Where they stand as far as the city, and the Delta Brigade, I know not.
Kai left a package for me. I can only imagine the token is 'hot', knowing the sort of fellow that Kai is. He wishes to speak to me. We have been meaning to rendezvous for some time, but things keep barring both our attempts. I should make the time soon. I made need the allies in the hands that come. In that vein, I also need to make time for Eleni. The man with designs on working in the underground of Ar. That requires a trip to Black Rock outside Ar's Sun Gate.
The Estate's gardens are nearly finished. I have sold Gina to Shane, a thing that bothers me, but is best for the barbarian. A slave girl is better under the hand of a man. I believe she loves the man anyway, which was exactly why I did not wish to sell her to him. Slave girls are not equipped to guard themselves from the emotional, financial, and physical ruin that comes from loving a man. Alas, the more I forbid it, the more smitten she became. Women are irrational creatures.
I have sent for Kreeandra Vinquient. My erstwhile mother. I believe she is hoping to attending Szol's play as well. She is not coming just for the play of course, I have plans for her.
Time. The more I need, the more I don't have it seems. The moments tick down, and before long, mine will be up.
Labels: Serenus Aria
Fire
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
7:46 AM
This life that we call our own
Is neither strong nor free;
A flame in the wind of death,
It trembles ceaselessly.
And this all we can do
To use our little light
Before, in the piercing wind,
It flickers into night:
To yield the heat of the flame,
To grudge not, but to give
Whatever we have of strength,
That one more flame may live.
-Dorothea Mackeller
Letter to Szol of Ar (Brutus Aurelius)
Sunday, April 13, 2008
9:03 AM
Magistrate of the People:
I thank you Szol, for your concern. I am recovering well. The jailing of citizens was a poor judgement call on the part of those that made it. They will be dealt with per the High Council.
It is my hope that the announcement made in the Great Square in a few days, will help the plight of the citizens of Ar of all castes. In light of our struggles, it is a poor time to allow any issue to be divisive. I will do everything in my power to remedy the suffering of Ar's sons and daughters.
Respectfully,
Brutus Aurelius
Administrator of Ar
Civitatis Aria
Labels: Brutus Aurelius, Central Cylinder Ar
Miles to go before I sleep.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
6:54 PM
"The things that people in love do to each other they remember, and if they stay together it's not because they forget, it's because they forgive."We are half way through the third year now. Second, in official capacity. I can't say things have gotten much easier. Only more complex.
Though he protests, I believe he may be falling for another woman, a woman of the red caste: Scarlet Sin. I suppose I cannot fault him for it. She is an enthralling creature, and undoubtedly a more suitable match than I am.
This knowledge has made life more strained. I am distant. I work more than I should. Like a storm, you can smell pain before it becomes fully apparent.
He has spoken of taking a trip to Torcandino. I have little desire to travel at this point. There is nothing in Torcandino that would please me to see. Now and then I grow lonesome for the shores of Port Kar, and consider visiting Kreeandra, my erstwhile mother. But it is far, and Port Kar smells. Too, the city is restless, and she governs much of me I am sorry to say.
Perhaps it is time to retreat into the skin of Lilith Agripeta, or Calypso Amandus for a time. Behind veils one can find a certain solace.
Venor was attacked. He was hiding at the Diamond Back, but has since moved. He wished to speak business, but I've yet to see him since the request. I can't say as I am disappointed by that. I can't imagine his request is anything positive.
Labels: Serenus Aria
Golden Beetle
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
11:53 AM
A small leather pouch, embossed with a dagger as a seal was tossed lightly to slide across the table. "Then start digging, " as if this had been her request all along she answered. Perhaps the jingle of gold would fire up the request, " I need it by the end of the hand." This seemed to weigh heavy on her. She was afterall in a bit of a pickle.
"Keep your coin," She looked at the pouch, it remained untouched. "If I am able to give you something in a hand. I will collect. I will not however create dirt for you. I am not of the Caste of Slavers." She rose then, the weight of cloak unfolding as she did, one of the last few cylinders of uncorrupt justice. "Is the intent her incarceration or enslavement?"
She spoke cooly, not so much to relay the gravity of the situation, but to instill its urgency, "Neither, nor is she to be harmed in anyway." That seemed solid fact. "Killer, do not let your loyalty to a friend (this word came over strangely) outweigh the Daggers request," she stood before her, aside the Eight. They were not menacing, nor did they mean ill will. Grave, yes, the situation was important. Perhaps that is what they convey. "You should take the coin, it is not from me. Half now, half when your task is completed. That is our way."
"Do not insult me, Oman Khan." Her voice held less warmth than it already had. For in truth she already had insulted her. "I have served my caste with no interruption for many years. I have lost more than you know, because of it. I will not be accused of putting anything, nevermind a woman, between it and I." The small sack of coin was taken and slipped into the inside pocket of her cloak. Assassins, were a proud sort. Savana was among them. "In a hand, I will bring you what I know. If anything."
"Until then, Savana Vinquient, Killer, " she said with a reflection of, was it, pride? Yes. The men nodded to the Crossroads, before she took to the door.
Proud enough to be unmoved by the female and the eight that flanked her. She swept her gaze over the wall of black, then turned and departed. Solitarily.
----
The name of Oman A'set Aga Khan is not an unfamiliar one to me. The erstwhile compatriot of my mentor, Na'Kaish. My pride was cut, that the First would send the Sea for me, rather than directly. Nevertheless, coin was exchanged as it always tends to be. The tension was so palatable in the room it clung the roof of my mouth and the flat of my tongue. I would be used to acquire information on a woman. The reasons for which, are still unknown to me.
The Serpent and the Sea
Are coming over me
And I cannot abide.
So weave a circle 'round you thrice
And close your eyes with holy dread*
For soon the street of Ar run red
When its men fall from Paradise.
*Appropriate nods to Coleridge's Kubla Khan
Labels: Golden Beetle
Say my name.
Friday, March 14, 2008
9:11 AM
I left the quiet serenity of Fulvian Hills early yesterday morning, leaving behind the Scion and his ancestral ghosts to answer the demands of my caste. Last evening was spent in my district. Mastavius wished to show me the graffiti before it was washed away by the municipal slaves. The artistic rendering is similar to the one in the Great Square.
Both Venor, and Joaquin, the blood relation of Trahkam happened upon me on the street. I was surprised to see both, honestly. Venor has not ventured into the Anbar in some time, preferring the company of his familial ties with the House of Sin. I could hardly blame him, their amenities doubtless surpass those of the Rabid Sleen.
I gave the Vitellius youth some advice, if he intends to traipse about my district like a dandy. I am not sure if he took it or not. He is young and impetuous. He reminds me of Trahkam when we were first joined in contract. All heat and intent, very little wisdom and stability.
I went to bed early, and rose early this morning to prepare for my meeting. The Crossroads. I am known commonly by the alias The Snake, Little Snake, or any serpentesque variation thereof. This is not a secret. It is not however, my official moniker. This one, known only to myself, and the elders of the caste.
The Crossroads.
She through which all roads must ultimately pass.
Labels: Anbar Streets Ar
Crossroads
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
8:39 AM
There was an art show in the Great Square yesterday evening. I had never seen such a crowd gathered before like this in the Square. Peddlers of every kind of artisan craft were there displaying, selling, and some times even demonstrating their art. I had been meaning to get out for the last few days into the Square myself, and decided this was an opportune time to do so. The art being peddled were not the only masterpieces on display. Glaringly painted across the stone, was defacing
graffiti, it's message rather clear. By morning I assumed it would be washed off by guardsmen, if not even before.
Venor and Scarlet had begun to come over in our direction, but I believe due to the crowd, opted to seek refuge in the Cafe. It was probably a good idea. I briefly spoke to the Magistrate Szol, he bought me juice, there is trust between us. He is going to be producing another play, one I am looking forward to seeing. Knowing what I do of the Poet and playwrite, I have my suspicions that the script will be nothing short of ..provoking.
Tia seemed to be doing well in the Square financially, and if my memory serves me correctly, the freckled red headed horror that was with her is the girl I once knew as Frigid. I am certain I saw Kai and his female consort and slave, but then the next I looked they were also lost in the hubbub of the sea of people.
Perhaps most perplexing, was the large fellow that walked toward me. A small parcel exchanged between us. I slipped it into the inside of my cloak pocket, and went on my way. I waited. Waited for Mika to sleep. When all the residence was silent, and then by the fire in the library I opened the package I was given.
The satchel contained no note. Its contents; a salt tablet with a seal of two crossed paths. The Crossroads. In it pressed to the center was a silver coin. Also included was a handful of dark soil, and a crust of bread.
And here I thought my involvement was finally over.
Labels: Great Square of Ar
Time
Thursday, March 6, 2008
9:57 PM
Much has happened since the last time I entered my thoughts into the black book. Venor has taken a free companion; A Sin. Trahkam has arrived home with Kai and brought with them some interesting characters from the Port city. Portia was sold from the city kennels. A temple burned, and a people rioted. Lady Eliza is rumored to be a debtor whore. Mika is rumored to be sleeping with his free companion's sister. Trahkam courts yet another Sin. The Gens Elite Houses begin to prepare for changes in the hierarchy of power. There was a political party. High Council members were murdered. Taxes were repealed by the Magistrate of the People. I realized the location of the Salt of the holy men. The Estate is built. The ghosts continue to haunt.
I cannot fully reflect on everything that has happened in the past hands. There is too much. My obligation to Ar's plight, upon speaking to Szol, will be over. What the people, and the Delta Brigade, do with their information is entirely up to them. She is not mine to fight for.
Serenus Aria will very soon be home. The Estate is now built. I have begun the process of furnishing and decorating the interior. The outside, and its landscaping I am leaving up to him.
We marked the completion of one year, in official capacity, earlier in the hand. If I can ever consider anything in my life "official" of course. Though we have been together for at least two now, it took me a very long time to think of him as anything more than an interim lover. It is bemusing how smoothly and comfortably the time goes by. My idea of comfort and smoothness however may be different than his. We often do not see eye to eye. My own lifestyle many times clashes with his staunch upbringing. I am not an easy woman to live with, and I make no such claim that I am. At the least, there is little risk that I will ever bore him.
Labels: Serenus Aria
My Haunted Head
Thursday, February 21, 2008
8:44 AM
I stood in the kitchen of the Savant Estate the morning past. It was well before dawn, neither Shane nor Mika were awake. In those wee ahns, I found a certain solace as I contemplated the path ahead of me. A letter had been sent to Aria Fori, inviting Venor and his Scarlet woman to the Temple. I am not sure why I wished them there for the unveiling. Certainly it was dangerous for them. Perhaps I value them enough to give them truth. Truth is a gift, even if a bitter one at times.
I could feel the presence at my back. The room gets cold, and a chill sinks down my spine and permeates over my skin suddenly. The air gets heavy, laden with energy that makes my skin prick. It is always the way when the Patron of Mika's Estate comes to me. Some times he speaks to my mind's eye. Other times he shows me what he sees. This day, he merely stood on the bottom of the back steps and stared with those eyes. I think he knew what my plans were for the day. I wonder what he would have done with Ar, had he still lived.
I imagine in life he was a tundra of a man as well. Cold, harsh, critical. I can't say I've ever been truly afraid of any man in my life. Nor will I say I fear the Patron. Alive or dead. Still, I find the erecting of the new Estate on the outter lot something I am anxious for. He is not pleased with my presence in his house. I can't say as I blame him. Further, I know he does not approve of my closness to his heir. At night he paces the hall outside our room, so angry that even the Madonna and Child take shelter from his wrath.
The lavendar and sage that burns in the fire place keeps him out of Mika's chamber, and for the most part out of my dreams. The rest of the house however is fair game. I only hope he hasn't attached himself to me, or Mika. When I eventually move, I do not want him following. I am haunted by my own demons, without taking on familial ones of generations past.
Labels: Savant Estate
We are Giants
Monday, February 18, 2008
9:19 PM
"No, I.." She paused a moment as the sleen came near, then looked back to him once it resettled on the floor away from her. Fucking sleen. "No. I have word for you. Information." She watched Elise, now no longer shaking her money maker but covered in something. The cup was taken lightly, and she gestured the woman back to the feet of the fellow that owned her. Women liked to be near their men. Except for Savana. Mika had to hold her by the sleeves to keep her in one spot for any length of time. The cup lifted, she took a sip to wet her lips, trying to gather her thoughts and express the information in a way that wouldn't set him off into a rage.
"Good. Tell me what you know" he asked of her, tearing another chunk from the round. As Elise would settle close, he would tuck that chunk into her cheek. Indulgent coddler that he is. Really. All the girls say it "She's harmless by the way. Mostly." he added, oddly enough the sleen's growling increased. Purely coincidence. Assuredly.
"The Caste of Initiates, is taking fee from the High Council to attempt to subdue the lower castes. The processions, and heavier presence in the city is no coincidence." She lowered her cup, holding it in the cradle of her hands. "It is to subdue and distract them, frighten them, to keep them from organizing themselves." Dropping her gaze to Elise a moment, then her cup, she turned the bit of dishware in her hands thoughtfully, "I am told, the High Initiate and the Administrator's advisor, are in control of the salt we are missing."
"That makes sense," he answered, not being set off in any sort of rage. He did, however, finish what remained in his cup in a slow, steady, singular swallow before he set it down. "Rather than one group taking advantage of the other's fallout, they are working in concert" He did not ask about the killings. Neither her's, not the several others in recent hands. He did not know, regardless, if she were behind some, none, or all of them. It was better for him, considering his present occupation, not to know too many details. "The people are not stupid, Savana. This will not stand. The governmental and ecclesiastical courts must, by necessity, be exclusive of one another."
"I am also told," she continued mildly, drawing another sip from the rim of her cup. "That the advisor to the Administrator, Marcus Claudius, covets the throne. And while he aids the High Council now to gain power,
it is his intention to claim the position by encouraging a revolt at a later time. Releasing the salt at an opportune time, to be as though Ar's hero." Setting the cup down again, this time she broke a bit of the bread from the tray, glancing beyond the bite to him quietly. "The people are not stupid, Szol. But mobs are. And easily led and manipulated by the charismatic, by propaganda if it is dealt sweetly." Taking a sip to wash the bite down with, she exhaled a quiet sigh through her nostrils slowly.
"The Administrator, then, is unaware of this plot?," he asked the obvious question. It was getting to be a long day. Already eventful, the news was boiling the pot over onto the stove.
"I'm sure he is aware that his advisor is working closely with the Initiates regarding the hiding of the salt, and in keeping the low caste silent. I doubt very much he is aware of Marcus Claudius' true intentions however, else he'd have already been impaled for treason." She still had some in her cup, taking small sips rather than large drawn gulps. She didn't drink juice often, so the flavor was enjoyed while she partook. "If you want my personal opinion," which meant he was probably going to get it anyway, "The Caste of Initiates probably knows of Marcus' plots and is perhaps being promised something on the side when he ascends to power. Judging by his active courting of Mika to companion his daughter, I believe he is hoping for the support of the Savant line when he makes his move as well."
"You've given me much to think on, Miss Vinquient."
----------
I had held up my end of the baragain. My obligation to the Poet and Rebel of Ar was coming to a close. Soon I would know exactly where the salt was, and then retribution would have to come at the hands of the city's people. Not my own.
Labels: Casa Del Szol
The Apothecary
Saturday, February 9, 2008
11:28 PM
Mastavius and I headed to the Great Square this evening, having heard that the Apothecary's shop was once more open. It was lucky that I caught her in time. She is an odd woman, and though she carried a cane walked with no limp. It led me to wonder of her nature and origin. Though it was with other intentions I had come to the kiosk, finding out her identity was not one of them. I gave her my symptoms and requested a cure.
She asked me a series of questions, from whether or not I was ambulatory during the visions, to whether I had killed the spirits in question. There are at least three I know are not my doing. It was for this reason I ensured that the sage and lavender she gave me to burn would only keep them out of my room, and not banish them from the house, which I believe to be more their residence than my own.
The tea and the powder will help me sleep, but I must be careful of the powder. I will use it sparingly. Tomorrow I meet with builders. I can't help but feel an odd sense of deja vu.
Labels: Great Square of Ar
Impromptu Gift Giving
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
11:07 PM
I had business to conduct today on Sixth Street. I have been paid by Eponine. I saw the Poet briefly. Apparently my company was offensive.
Lady Valois was escorted from the Anbar. It never ceases to amaze me how naive women of high caste and significant breeding can be. I do not blame her anxiety in getting me the pouch though.
I returned to the Great Square briefly to do a bit of shopping, and almost ran into Tia. Then I returned to the Rabid Sleen where Mika was already passed out cold. The Savant heir is unaccustomed to working. Any jaunt longer than the distance from the library to the parlor is taxing on him. Still, he is a welcome sight even completely unconscious and half sprawled across my bed.
He also doesn't find me offensive. Fortunate that.
Before finding a place not occupied by one of his limbs to sleep, I affixed upon him a purchase from the Square.
Labels: Rabid Sleen Ar
Check please?
7:12 AM
Last night Anastasia and her father Marcus Claudius joined Mika for dinner at the Estate. I should have left, but I decided to stay in guise. It was in retrospect a mistake, and I think I will avoid doing so in the future. For both our sakes. She was clearly smitten with him, and her father clearly eager to pawn his offspring off. They were polite, though by the end of the evening I think conversations had become strained between Mika and Marcus regarding politics. Anastasia arranged to go to Temple with Mika soon, to discuss 'theology'.
It is convenient she hardly noticed my presence all evening. I have doubts that I concealed well the desire to stab her in the temple with an eating prong. Jealousy of course is something that must be curbed in favor of the greater good. So I will again push him to go with her on this trip, and find out what connection they have with the High Initiate of Ar. Marcus had mentioned something at dinner that caught my ear. We're heading in the right direction, my only fear is how much I will end up losing when all is said and done.
Labels: Savant Estate
A Letter to Anastasia
Monday, February 4, 2008
11:26 AM
I spent most of the day in the city, since the day prior I had slacked in my duties for the sake of a much needed respite. Information brought to me was revealing, but only enough to tell me that I was looking in the right direction, not necessarily what it was I was looking at. When I arrived back to the Estate, Mika was not to be found. At least not immediately. When I did find him, it was enjoying a bottle of wine in the wine cellar.
I don't like the wine cellar. I don't like cellars period to be honest. Anything cramped makes my skin crawl and my blood pressure spike. The wine is good, and he mentioned producing this year. Initially I mistook his announcement for alluding to something else. I blame Tia for that. She is a brain terrorist.
Mika was half in the bag already, so I convinced him to come upstairs before he fell asleep on the bench and I had to resort to dragging him up the steps by his ankles. First however, he was to write to Anastasia. He's been dragging his feet on the issue I know, but much lays in the balance here, and if he will not do as I ask I will have to take matters into my own hands. It would be unfortunate, as I dislike the idea of resorting to violence when it is not necessary. I will have little alternative however if Mika is unable to get me what I need. My ends will justify those means, I will make them.
He penned the letter as I asked, and then I took him to bed. Tonight Anastasia and her father should arrive to the Estate for dinner and conversation. Undoubtedly Miss Contessa will be expecting this to be the start of bride price negotiations. While a part of me wishes to be privy to their meeting, I should probably make myself scarce. I will have Gina spy in my absense.
Labels: Savant Estate
The Mouth of Ar
Sunday, February 3, 2008
10:29 PM
After Mika's run in with the self professed prophet, we had stopped by the Diamond Back so I could check in on the state of the house. I picked up a bit of mail that had been waiting there. Among the missives was an announcement that Catastrophe Sekar had her son. I had wanted to stay at the Diamond Back for the night, given the fact we were now targets, returning to the Savant Estate was not high on my list of places to sleep. He protested, as he often tends to, and we ended up making the long walk back. The sky was looking ominous, I should have taken it as an omen.
We reached the Great Square and ran into Tia, nearly literally. Unfortunately she came in on the tail end of a rather awkward comment. By the look on her face and her subtle remarks, my guess is she believes I am with child. Then to make matters even more pleasant, the sky suddenly opened up and the storm rained down. Thunder, lightening, and a cold rain that sent the three of us for the inside of the cafe for shelter and some dinner.
All seemed civil enough. I sipped tea and watched the water run down the window panes while Tia and Mika discussed the bill owed to her from the Masquerade party. It was quite a feast, the left overs were donated, since they couldn't obviously be kept before they'd spoil. I saw little point in letting the food go to waste. So for a day, the poor of the city ate well. Mika invited Tia to dinner, in hopes of encouraging her relationship with Shane, which seems to be budding into something promising. I have no problem with the match, to the contrary, my stomach would profit from the union.
I don't know when it all went downhill, but there began the talk of politics. One thing led to another between the Baker and the Savant heir, and it ended with Tia storming off. Mika I don't think understands her, but I do. "It is difficult to be a woman of this city," I had informed him, "If she were a man she would be Ubar, but she is only a woman, and a baker."
Tia is not the sort of woman that enjoys her helplessness. She loathes even more when those that have the power to make a change, balk. The rain storm broke, and aside from a few sprinkles here and there, it was safe to venture home. We were not met by flames, nor the torches of a lynch mob, for that I am thankful. It had been a long day.
Labels: Great Square of Ar
One Strike
10:21 PM
I had gone to the Teiban Market that morning to pick up some errant supplies. Generally my days are taken up with the day to day work that is a part of my livelihood, but I took that particular day to spend on more domestic tasks. Such things are generally a luxury I do not have time for, and it was enjoyable. Mika had accompanied me, though I'm not sure he found shopping as cathartic as I did. The benefit was two-fold, I put my coin into the hands of those that needed it most, and at the same time indulged myself in some much needed distraction.
While perusing a display of fruit, I had run into the Poet's girl Elise. She was likewise shopping. It was a nice day for such things. I inquired to the state of the Braided Whip, and if she'd noticed any processions that morning on the streets by the Caste of Initiates. Just as she'd replied to the negative, a rambunctious youth went diving between Mika and I, nearly landing atop Elise. Conveniently, the Savant had grabbed him by the scruff of his collar and conducted him from our presence. Anthony is not a bad child, just a bit unruly at times, hot headed. Boys can be that way, so can many men.
No sooner had that disturbance been resolved did we hear the cry for water from further down the market place. As the crowd began to cluster and hum like angry bees, I sent Elise for home. An angry mob is no place for a bauble. I started to make my way through the mob toward the source of the disturbance, and found as I'd predicted, flames shooting toward the mid-day sky. A kiosk was set aflame, a group of people nearby using water from barrels to douse the flames. It did not spread significantly, but the damage was done to the citizen's property.
To add insult to injury, a robed zealot spewed threats to the crowd, claiming the flames were the doing of the Priest Kings. I had significant doubts to that but I was not about to pick a fight in a crowd of unsettled low caste. Mika however, had no such reservations. The more I expose him to the plight of the people, the more I find the injustices anger him. I am glad for that, I think if I found him apathetic in the face of suffering I would lose much of the respect he has earned from me.
Still, getting in the face of a temple-nut amidst a sea of angry and fearful citizens was not what I had planned for him to do. The zealot did not seem pleased either, and proceeded to condemn the rest of Ar for their insolence and Mika personally. He knew him by his surname, which seemed to take him aback though in truth I wasn't surprised. Now however, we were no longer just a part of the crowd, Mika's confrontation had made us targets. And that would make things more difficult.
Labels: Teiban Sul Market Ar
I have sought him. I have found him.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
10:43 PM
The Masquerade was a success.
A dinner date has been scheduled.
A widow was born.
Lady Valois owes me coin.
Tiberius Vilios was a tall man, lean, and soft spoken. It was by matter of circumstance that his life ended, in order to preserve the Masquerade. He gave me little choice. Coincidentally, it was his death that ended up facilitating the end of Nero Bronte as well.
Nero was last seen leaving the Masquerade with Tiberius. Though in fact, Tiberius had died ahns before the first guest arrived to the Savant Estate. The bodies of both were found on the altar of a temple, where so many verr before them had been herded to the slaughter. The grooves in the stone let the blood run freely, tiny rivers that pooled in the copper pots on the steps. Carved into their flesh was the mark of the delka.
No one dares speak of the Delta Brigade. I wonder how many have forgotten their presence in history. The Administration continues to down play the connection, insisting upon brigands and vandals. It seems par for the course of this council, they are adept at ignoring the problems that plague the city rather than doing a thing about them. Perhaps finally Ar will profit from their ineptitude.
The Initiates continue to plague the city streets with their processions. It is said the caste only comes out of their temples and cylinders to speak to the people when there is civil unrest and when they are in need of funds for a new temple. I would not be surprised if both were applicable at this time. I do not care for the Caste of Initiates, nor their tactics in keeping control of the lower castes by way of supersticious threats.
Judging by the marks that mar their pristine Cylinder, neither do those of the Delta Brigade.
Labels: Savant Estate
I Seek Him. I Will Find Him.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
12:06 PM
Preparations went smoothly for Mika's Masquerade party. Gina has overseen the decorations. The slaves have been costumed. I have chosen to place Portia and Six in garments that mimic those of Panther Girls. Their masks are tribal face paints only. Slave girls should not be permitted real masks.
The remainder of the Masquerade is now no longer in my hands. I find I must turn my attentions to other things this evening. While many will be toasting to long lives, and reveling in the epicurean delights afforded them, I will be working.
By nightfall, One will be a widow.
A wealthy widow.
Labels: Savant Estate
Salt and Legumes
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
10:46 PM
Mika had taken me to the office of a scribe in the Great Square to turn in papers regarding his land. A house will be built, set back from Savant Estates. Perhaps there I will not be plagued by the ancestral wraiths that still wander his hallways.
It wasn't until we had gotten back out onto the street that I heard the sound of the bells, and the chanting. I had not seen a procession of Initiates in a long time. Even longer, since I came face-to-face with a raving religious freak. His warnings of harder times to come if Ar did not return to her Temples, frightened more than a few into following the procession. Others quickly vacated the area.
The delka sign was found defacing one of the prominent temples in the city a few days later. City Administrators still shrug off the emblem as merely the work of youthful vandals. I am not so confident in that theory.
Labels: Great Square of Ar
Insomnia
Thursday, January 17, 2008
10:18 PM
The nightmares have been constant. Much to Mika's chagrin, I tend to leave before dawn, and not retire until late into the evening. Sleep has not come easily to me. I blame it on the unrest of the city, and within myself.
I have not told Mika that I am responsible for the murder of Titus Octavius. I shield him from much of the reality of my occupation of the city's underground. He is not a fool however, and though largely naive of the workings of people outside his own elite social circles, he is catching on. He still professes his love. It's easy to love me now. I am not sure how easy it will be for him when he discovers the extent of the darkness.
He inquires of the visions, but has yet to prod. For this I am grateful, I have no desire to detail them. I am however inclined to seek outside aid in the form of something to either dull them, or at least allow me to sleep through them. There is an apothecary in the Great Square. I may make a point to visit her kiosk. A lifetime of death and corruption has slowly leaked the wraiths of unhappy souls into my mind's eye.
Labels: Savant Estate
By any means necessary
Sunday, January 13, 2008
12:04 PM
"Manus ships the salt from a supplier in Torcandino. He has purchasers. I don't know who they are. I swear Savana, that is all I know! I swear!" His wrists bound, lolling in the dirt like some of the obese Taharian exotics he housed in his cellars, Titus Octavius gasped bloody mouthed for breath.
"Were you present for these negotiations? Have you seen the exchanges?" She moved to the single table in the room, taking a sip of the water there. Two men stood by him, another stood by the door patiently. Aside from Titus' heaving, the room was quiet and still. The calm before the storm.
"Only once," he wheezed, struggling to his knees on the dirty wooden floor of the warehouse, "Only once. The first of them wore the city's emblem on his ring, and a green faction patch."
"And who is Ibrahim of Tor?" She moved from the table and took hold of his hair, hauling his head up to look at him. "I don't know. I swear I've never heard that name." He blubbered, his adam's apple bobbing with every swallow.
Nodding, she released his hair resting her hand on his shoulder. "Thank you for your honesty, Titus Octavius." I will have my men see you home." The slaver heaved a shuddered sigh of relief.
As his head dropped with the tension that left his body, the killing blade was thrust abruptly down into the back of his neck, just beneath the base of his skull. He fell forward, into her arms, and was allowed then to fall to the floor. Pulling the blade from his neck, she wiped off the flat of it on her thigh before turning away to exit the room with Mastavius.
"You have blood in your hair," he commented neutrally. "I always wanted to be a red head. Nash always preferred them," She closed the door behind her and glanced back to him with a subtle smirk.
"What should we do with him?" he spoke quietly as she started to move down the corridor. "Leave his body in the Great Square. In the fountain of Hesius."
"That is bold, Savana."
"It is a message to the Central Cylinder."
------------------
I couldn't allow Titus to go free. He was too powerful, too wealthy. There was a likely chance he would warn his betters that I was looking for them.
Also, he called me a woman.Labels: Warehouse Anbar District
Machinations of the Machine
12:10 AM
"Are we not associates, Titus?" Savana stood before his desk, her back like a straight edged razor. The loose robe-like garments of black were liquidesque, a slick satin, reflecting darkly the light from the few lamps that hung from the ceiling. Titus leaned heavily in his cushions and exotic furs, a saccharine smile curling along the corners of his mouth, "Of course we are associates, Savana. But I know nothing of what you speak."
"You are lying to me, Titus. I dislike when people lie to me." She moved from the forefront of his desk, an indolent pace that crept along the side, skimming the perimeter of the room, "I have documentation. Witnesses, that say otherwise."
"You are misinformed," Titus remained relaxed, feeling himself with the upper hand and such a notion showed easily upon his swollen pink features, "Are you in need of salt Savana? I am sure we can work out something."
"Who is Ibrahim of Tor?" She came to a halt again, a dip of chin leveled the austere gaze upon him closely. Patient, with a predatorial bent, she studied his every subtle gesture, every nuance from the twitch of his brow to the rate of his breathing. "I have never heard the name before," He lifted a hand loftily, but noticably grew more tense, "I think it is time you left, She-Killer."
"You force my hand, Titus Octavius."
"You overstep your bounds, woman."
I left the slaving house of Four Palms that evening. I did not however return home. The next day, Titus would find his morning tea interrupted.Labels: Civitatis Aria
His Poetic Confession. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me..still.
Saturday, December 15, 2007
9:29 PM
Because She Would Ask Me Why I Loved Her
If questioning would make us wise
No eyes would ever gaze in eyes;
If all our tale were told in speech
No mouths would wander each to each.
Were spirits free from mortal mesh
And love not bound in hearts of flesh
No aching breasts would yearn to meet
And find their ecstasy complete.
For who is there that lives and knows
The secret powers by which he grows?
Were knowledge all, what were our need
To thrill and faint and sweetly bleed?
Then seek not, sweet, the "If" and "Why"
I love you now until I die.
For I must love because I live
And life in me is what you give.
Labels: Savant Estate
Reconnaissance (part 2)
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
8:15 PM
It was not unlike Szol's hidden wall, deep in the belly of what was once the Boarding House. Her hand fell across the valve, the jut of metal refusing stubbornly to budge, rusted and grimed into immobility. "Come on..move," a pained exhale forcibly growled between clenched teeth. Her hand slipped its grip twice, wet with water, mud, and chalk. Finally she stepped back to kick it with the heel of her boot. Perhaps not the wisest of choices, but it moved, a harsh spitting of rust rained down and the wall slid back and up slowly groaning in protest being woken from its ancient slumber.
Greeted with more darkness, she stepped from the vast opening and closed the portal behind her. This, she surmised, was the basement of basements in the cylinder. It looked no better than a dungeon, and as she passed the empty cells strewn with soiled straw, she realized that was exactly where the tunnels had spat her. It was empty now though of those it might have once housed, instead appearing to have become a storage facility. Crates stacked one atop the other cluttered the walk ways and even inside the cells. A quick inspection ruled out the unlikely event the contents were the substance she was looking for.
"I am not going down there. You go. I went last time," a red haired fellow spoke up, breaking the silence of the catacomb below. Behind him, looking over his shoulder a bearded man grunted, "Then get out of my way. If you're going to be a woman about it, I'll go myself." The red haired guard bristled and began to trudge down the stone steps, bits of dirt and small stones skittering ahead of him to the basement floor, "Oh no. I'll never hear the end of it, I'm going." The bickering had her stop in her tracks, backing up behind a pillar of crates. The duo passed, picking up one of the wooden boxes and began to carry it by the rope handles back up the steps, "Careful..hey slow down! I can't walk backwards as fast as you can walk forward," The bearded man looked over his shoulder, backing up the steps slowly with the crate. The door was left ajar as they passed, their bickering finally fading away the further they ventured from the catacomb.
Leaning out slightly, she looked toward the stairs and began to navigate from crate tower to crate tower, a path to the stairs. Silence was a good sign, but time was not on her side. They, or someone else, could return at any moment. A sliver of light cast a diagonal ribbon across the stone, piercing the darkness below. Step by step she ascended the stone, her back set to the shadowed portion of the stairwell, listening before slowly nudging the door open and glancing out into the hallway.
At this ahn, the lights were low. It was, she gathered, probably the first or second ahn. Guards would be changing shifts. In the interim, the hallway was empty however, and she took one last glance before turning and walking quickly down the corridor. She'd been here before, under other circumstances, once upon a time perched at the desk of Lady Sidney Nalius. The little bird. The channels were familiar to her, and yet it was long enough ago, that she nearly passed by the office of the Deputy in her haste. Fingertips curled around the knob, a turn indicated it was locked, as predicted.
The pack tied to her back was slid off, and within it removed the set of lock picks. Picking locks was not her skill set, but she usually managed well enough. Though, it wasn't often she was under this sort of time limit, however.
"That woman is a pain in my ass!" a voice rang out, causing her shoulders to hitch slightly. "If her father was not so close to the family, I'd have thrown her to her belly ages ago," it was coming closer. Her eyes narrowed on the lock, a soft audible click finally gave way and she turned the door, slipping in and quietly shutting it behind her. Her back pressed to the door, the sound of the voices rounded the corridor's corner and passed by, "Well you know, it's only for a year. Have you considered purchasing another slave girl?"
Exhaling heavily, she leaned up from the door and scanned the dark room, shrugging back on the leather pack and securing it tight to her waist. From the window she could hear the sounds of the city below, even at this late ahn the Square was active. The pads of her fingertips traced the scalloped edge of the desk, falling upon papers piled atop one another. She shuffled through each, documents the sort of mindless drudgery that would have kept her out of politics if she had been born a man and a citizen.
She pushed back the chair, sitting in it and reaching down, peering in every drawer. Nothing. Not even a bottle of good alcohol to be found squirreled away in a side drawer. Slouching back in the chair with a low sigh of frustration, she cast her gaze down, and there it suddenly snagged upon something jutting down from under the desk. Her brow furrowed, she scooted the chair back further and reached beneath, tugging free a folded bit of paper. Four names thereupon were inscribed, four names and nothing else:
Lysander Manus
Claudius Marselius
Titus Octavian
Anastasia Contessa
Labels: Central Cylinder Ar
Reconnaissance
Saturday, December 8, 2007
4:42 PM
Drick-tick, drip-drip-tick. Humid and cramped, she could taste the air in these tunnels. It reeked of dampness, mildew, and dead things; the stench lingering like a wet blanket that sought to coat your tongue every time you took a breath. Water from the cold rains above leaked down, dripping along the walls, leaving in some passage ways stagnant puddles through which to step.
"Three..two..one..three," a whispered mantra breaking the silence of the catacombs, "Do first what is right, then do what is left." The navigation was slow going, pausing long enough only to draw a familiar symbol on certain walls, her torch thrust high to heave light upon the darkness that encroached. Wire encased energy bulbs staggered every twenty yards or so. At one time they would have glowed softly, now, most had lost their brilliance to the many years that had passed without replacement.
Shadows writhed upon the walls, in constant violent flux with the fire light that led the way. How many men had taken this tunnel, she wondered, throughout the history of Ar? How many Ubars? A passage way, a secret, now defiled by the steps of an assassin, and a woman at that.
Labels: Central Cylinder Ar
Chalk Drawings
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
10:53 PM
"Have you slept yet?" Mastavius stood in the doorway of the small room, his hands braced at either side of the gouged wooden frame. Her weariness was worn like a mourner's veil, one she could not seem to bathe nor drink away. Savana turned away from the desk, the oil lamp flickering shadows over the blood stained parchment resting there. "I have not yet," one hand slid through damp hair, dark and slick that clung to her shoulder and nape like an ink well spilled.
"You should try," he advised. Dropping his arms from the door jam, he ventured into the fire light bathed room. He knew better now, historically, he had learned. And so he remained at the perimeter, it was well to keep a safe distance from wounded things. "I have tried," she countered with little vigor, leaning back against the desk. Her arms folded at the mid of her stomach, slipping her gaze from Tavius to the fire that quietly writhed at the hearth.
"Can you do me a favor?" She finally slid her attention back to him. Leaning up from the desk, one of the drawers was pulled open, and a pouch removed. The draw strings knotted, she tossed it to him. "I need chalk."
"Chalk?" He caught the pouch, glancing questioningly in her direction. The leather sack weighed in his palm out of habit before tucking it to his belt.
"Chalk," she smiled and turned back to the speech the Magistrate never got to read, "There can be no maps."
"You can't mean to go beneath the city.." His expression faltered, stepping from the outside edge of the room to approach her desk in the back. "One leads to the Central Cylinder," she nodded, pushing the drawer shut again and picking up a half finished glass of brandy from the rounded and worn surface of the desk.
"You mean to attempt to break into the Central Cylinder.." He was incredulous. Perhaps angry. As was his right. He was a citizen of Ar.
"Yes." She regarded him evenly, taking a second sip of the tepid amber contents of her glass.
"I will get you your chalk."
Labels: Rabid Sleen Ar
Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood
10:48 PM
I could protect him from the mob. I could not protect him from one of my own. As the bolt tore through, and he crumpled to the ground bleeding, the herd did as one would expect: they stampeded.
I pushed my way through the crowd. As I reached him there, I knelt, trying to help staunch the steady flow of blood. I was angry. Ripping strips from his shirt to quell the bleeding, I cursed at him. I doubt he heard me. My hands were covered in his blood.
In my haste, I had not realized I was causing another similar frustration. Mika tried without success to extricate me from the Square. There was the possibility I could have been a target as well. Or that knowing the first attempt was botched on Szol, a second would come to finish the job. At that time, I did not think of these things.
The physicians came, and took him away to the clinic across the Square. Trahkam was there as well, it was comforting to see him. I knew he would be there. He is divine sent. An honest love that stands for the ages. Perhaps the only faith I still retain.
I spent the night in the Hawthorne Clinic, in a chair outside of the Poet's room with my crossbow in my lap. There I sat until I was relieved by Pontius the next morning.
Mika is angry at me. A problem I will attempt to remedy when time warrants.
Labels: Great Square of Ar
Tea Time
Sunday, December 2, 2007
4:08 PM
"I am a man," Mika had said to me last night. "Don't you fear all men?" he asked. I don't. Whether that is foolhardy or not. I think perhaps I fear myself, far more than I have ever feared a man that has stepped foot into my presence.
I visited Szol the morning after I returned from the stake out beyond the Sun Gate. I was given tea. He is often hospitable in that regard. My information upset him. I think he believes the High Council is behind the missing salt. I am not so sure it is so cut and dry myself. He charged me to look deeper.
I fear for him. I am beginning to fear for us both. If he is in fact correct, then we could both end up targets. I don't believe the council is stupid. If they catch wind, and they will, there will be a push to silence us. They can't afford, with the political climate as it is, for either of us to possibly rally the lower castes.
Szol has told me he intends to make an announcement this evening, in the Great Square. He is the sort of man that thinks well of his fellow citizens. Perhaps even still trusts, to an extent, the establishment. I am not so trusting. I will have myself, and my men in the crowd as insurance.
Labels: Casa Del Szol
Creature Comforts
2:43 PM
I had arrived to the Sun Gate by mid morning. Mika had been left a missive to meet me there upon my arrival. My initial plan was to have breakfast in the Square, and bring Pontius along, but my point-man had other plans. Rumor is he's caught a fancy to an inn owner, and he wished to have his breakfast in bed I imagine. I can't say as I blame him. We were gone a while, and the nights were cold.
When I found Mika, he was being absconded by a whore. She wore no collar, my guess is that she was a prostitute of the free variety. Who pays for sex with free women? When women like portia prowl the city streets. Foolish, but in any event, I lost my temper. She was conducted harshly from the street and into the waiting arms of a fellow selling tastas. I blame myself, my exhaustion, and general physical discomfort. I am not perfect.
I decided to return to his estate, allowing even that he transport me by one of his carriages. Generally I frown upon anything so frivolous, but it was a longer walk than I felt like taking. I allowed him too, to take care of me that night. I bathed. I did not eat. But I did sleep, and allowed myself the luxury of closeness. But his ostraka can be revoked at any time. He has not sworn to my Home Stone. He is no citizen of my heart, nor my body. But for one night I let my guard down. I needed the reprieve. I do not know when another will come.
I worry at times. I cannot let Mika fall in love with me, for his own good. Nor can I allow myself to become beholden to him. I won't be tethered. I refuse. No amount of trust, and no amount of love, can change the nature of things that need to roam to be content.
"You are either restless or sleeping," he jested. It is an accurate observation. I like Mika. I suppose that is why I hold him at arm's length.
I left early the next morning to find Szol. We had much to talk about. There is salt to find.
Labels: Savant Estate
What Seems, And What Is
9:18 AM
We had received word that there was a caravan with a shipment of salt enroute to Ar from Torcandino. Their travel wagons would carry the flags of Lysander Manus, a well known Merchant in many cities of this region. Lysander however, was not a friend, nor a business acquaintence. Though rumor had it, he was an arrogant fellow, exceedingly wealthy and wealth to some extents does purchase one significant power. It does not however bestow upon you the rights of the High Five, no doubt a thing that vexed Lysander as much as it did most of the merchanting caste that found their faces pressed to the proverbial glass ceiling.
I and a handful of my more woodsworthy comrades dispatched ourselves outside of Ar's gates, Pontius at the head of our pack. It was cold at night, our fires had to remain low, we ate sparingly, and we waited. We waited for what felt like hands, but was only perhaps a day and a half. Wagon after wagon traveled by, but not the wagons of Lysander Manus, not until the last evening. The sound of clanking and creaking wheels, the pitch and sway of wood against steel, awoke me out of a light doze. I pressed upward to my forearms, dragging myself up a bit further on the slope to look down. There, the white flags flickered in the frozen air like specters on a ghost ship, approaching the gates of Ar.
I kicked Pontius awake, hissing at him, "Look..look." He was cold. We all were. Inching upward, he looked over the ridge himself to watch the slow progression, his face contorted with sleep and confusion, "Where are they going?"
"It looks like the Sun Gate," I said. He rolled some forward again, and I grabbed him by the shirt, dragging down face first in the dirt with me as two men trudged too close by for comfort. The caravan was guarded, I suppose I would have predicted as much. They passed, as one might expect, bitching about the cold to one another as they did so.
"The Sun Gate has long been closed," Pontius whispered finally, his words making a visible cloud of condensation that hung in the air. "I know, let's go."
"Go? What about the others?" He forced stiff muscles to move, following after me as I scrambled to my feet once the vicinity was clear. "Leave them. We'll come back. If we all go, they'll find us."
Ar is beautiful in the day time, and within its walls, beautiful at night. Many a man that had been away from his Home Stone for any length of time, no doubt felt a sweet rush of emotion upon seeing his city before him. Tonight though, as Pontius and I crept closer, she seemed like a ghost ship in the frigid night air. Lanterns held high, and the murmur of voices, we watched as some of the wagons were unloaded. Barrels and sacks carried in every direction. In a matter of moments, like the scattering of beatles, they were gone. And then the caravan turned, one by one, away from the Sun Gate.
Ar has a number of secondary gates. Some, I am certain, unknown to the public. History dictates this is probably true, if common sense and a belief in human nature does not. Pontius and I did not follow them, the risk that we'd have been noticed was too great. I have spent some time in the Cylinder of Justice. I have looked an impaling spear in the eye more than once. We returned to the rest of the sleeping men, and in the morning, made our journey back to the Sun Gate. I needed a bath, and food, and..a bath.
Labels: Sun Gate Ar
Machinations
Monday, November 26, 2007
5:44 PM
"It will make sense later. I promise," she said. Mastavius grabbed his cloak, pulling it on with a certain amount of shrugging that men tend to do when getting into any garment, "I don't see why you need to find the salt anyway. It's not your problem."
Letting her arms fall from her waist, she followed him out of the parlor and into the foyer slowly, "Because Szol of Ar is my friend." the murmur came matter of factly. Standing back a bit from the door as he opened, a gust of cool air came in, causing her eyes to narrow subtly.
He took a step down onto the front step, and looked back at the snake evenly, jamming his hood up to keep out the chill. "Well shit. I got lots of friends, Savana." The wind tugged at the black fabric she wore like a child's sticky fingers, chaotic but insistant. The austere gaze lifted again to Mastavius hovered there, "I don't."
Labels: Diamond Back Ar
A Favor and a Secret
Saturday, November 24, 2007
9:02 AM
"He's expecting you."
I had not expected to see Darwin guarding the doors, once red, now a somber brown. I was glad however, not to see Tasta as I entered. Szol was tired, but accomodating. My sole intention of the visit was just that, to visit. Perhaps to check up on him, after having heard the Boarding House closed. I am sure he would have scoffed at the notion. Friends do these things though I am told, look after one another.
"If you do me this favor, I will tell you a secret."
I've always been curious about secrets. And it was true, I did owe him a favor. "Find the salt." It sounded easy. It is not. But doing as he asked would benefit us both, and the city, hopefully before the economy took so hard a hit that it would not recover. "Now tell me your secret," I had prodded. A deal was a deal after all.
He didn't tell me. He showed me. The information would come in handy, I was certain, in one way or another.
Labels: Casa De La Szol
A Setting Son
9:01 AM
"He loved you," Mastavius followed me back to my chamber after Kyron left, for the last time. "Men do not love," I informed him, "They only covet." To this my second only grunted, whether it was in objection or agreement it was hard to tell.
I am unsure when Kyron's affections strayed. No more than I am sure when they actually began. His wavering and fading interest was voiced the last night he came to see me, though by then I think we both knew, it was merely a matter of formalities.
To say that I do not miss him would be a lie. He saved my life, once. Granted, he nearly took it a few times as well. I considered us even.
Some times we lose pieces on the board, before we were ready to lose them. Live, learn, and move on.
Labels: Rabid Sleen Ar
Graffiti at the center of Sixth Street
Friday, November 23, 2007
12:42 PM
Outside the street's on fire
In a real death waltz
Between what's flesh and fantasy
And the poets down here
Don't write nothin at all
They just stand back and let it all be
And in the quick of the night
They reach for their moment
And try to make an honest stand
But they wind up wounded
Not even dead
Tonight in Jungle Land.
Labels: Sixth Street
Salt on the wounds
Sunday, November 18, 2007
9:34 AM
Maybe you would find it surprising, but I am, if nothing else, a woman of my word. I arrived as I had promised to the Savant Estate dressed for dinner. He appeared surprised at my choice of attire, a very dark iridescent red gown. Modest enough in its cut, but a far cry from the masculine pants and coarse woven shirt I am accustomed to working in.
I had partaken of his drink, a smooth alcohol. Unfamiliar, and he informed me that it was an imported thing. I enjoyed it all the same. We had not even gotten to eat when there was a commotion outside. There on the grounds, harassing the gate keep was a group of perhaps four rough looking fellows. One wore a scar down his face, grizzley enough that I noticed it first as he spoke even from such a distance away in the dark. They were looking for me.
"I want the black bitch. She is responsible for the salt shortage in the city. I want her, and I want her now. She was last seen heading toward this estate." The other three grim faced fellows remained steadfast behind the apparent leader of the lynch mob. One of whom had a coil of rope in his hand.
I was named 'salt smuggler', among other unsavory titles. When I turned to address Mika, he had already gone, much to my irritation, to confront the gathering and send them off my trail.
It was foolish to consider leaving at that ahn and alone by that point. So I remained for the night, though slept sparingly. Whomever said that assassins sleep the soundest of all, were most assuredly not assassins.
I rose the next morning before the light ever peeked through the windows, and left for Trahkam's apartment in the Garden District. I bathed, changed into something more reasonable, armed myself and went in search of Mastavius.
"It is not widely spread," he confided, grimly. "But there is some word floating about, some speculation, that you are behind the salt shortage. That shipments have been raided by your men before they ever make it into Ar. Driving the the commodity to the black market, which you control, and putting out of business those whose property you would like to take for a bargain price. If you control the salt, you could control Ar."
It was, I admit, a believable story. My hand in the black market and the trade that comes in and out of Ar is not unknown by the people. Nor I suppose is it a secret that I have warehouses outside of the city. And had I an interest in bringing Ar to her knees, there might have been truth to what he was saying.
I decided upon returning to the Estate to change again and attempt to remain at least somewhat low profile. Mika showed me the beginnings of the tunnels that networked beneath Ar, dark and narrow catacombs. While useful information, I cannot imagine finding myself there often unless absolutely necessary, given my aversion to enclosed spaces. We ventured to the Great Square, and I stopped long enough to reconnect with the Magistrate. The problems at hand and his realization of the impotence of his position with the High Council has seemed to have taken its toll. He is disheartened, I can see it in his eyes.
Tia arrived shortly after. I am to make a swap with her this evening. I can't imagine it will do much to help prove my innocence, should the rumor spread further.
Labels: Savant Estate
A Matter of Trust
Thursday, November 15, 2007
1:11 PM
I consider myself a reader of people. It was one of many talents that was required in my particular work. To read people, to know what they will do, before they even do it. Normally I can decipher many things simply by the smallest of someone's unconscious gestures. The shift of hands, the way a person moves their weight from foot to foot, where they look and how quickly, the tension in their spine, their breathing. I can know a person before we are ever introduced. I can own a person without ever needing to know their name.
I suppose it is for this reason I can with some, be completely thoughtless to whether or not they object to my behavior. What I already know, there is no need to fear. It is easy to trust them. I already know what you will do. Or not do. What then is there to fear? A woman does not fear stripping before her silk slave. Nor does she care for what a pet giani thinks of her bed time rituals.
Of course, this is not the case with all. There are some that are difficult to read. Some who are unpredictable. Their intentions masked. And it is them that it is difficult to trust. Not because they are untrustworthy. But because they are not controllable.
Home Stone In One
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
11:06 AM
There are very few things that one can count on in life. Perhaps the only thing one can truly count on is change. There is a saying my mother used to tell me, "If you're in a bad situation, don't worry it'll change. If you're in a good situation, don't worry it'll change."
I have not seen Kyron in perhaps a hand or two now. It's hard to recollect. Though I have gone by the Towers now and again, it is too large a dwelling to sleep in alone without repercussions. And so things change. I split my time between Trahkam's apartment in the Garden District, and the Rabid Sleen. On occassion I even rest my head at the Strega. Never one place too long. Trahkam and Kai are quiet residents, though we all keep odd hours.
I stumbled across an old acquaintence and again the board was added another player. Lazarus has invited me to dinner. I cannot remember the last time I spoke to the slaver. I think perhaps it was during his slave auction some three years ago. That night was also a catylst of change, if I remember correctly. My relationship with Lazarus has always been variable, maybe more so than it was with Kyron.
Later in a rare and brief moment of genuineness, I spoke to Tia the Baker. My warning was as one who has lost children to change, to one who still had her's. It is not unlikely that our opinions of one another have in some way altered just a little too.
My encounter in an alley near Sixth Street a few nights past was unexpected, and undoubtedly caused my view of the pieces on the board to change yet again. There are motives; there are strategies that are slowly beginning to unfurl, and it has become clear that the pieces are the players. I can still taste the faint essence of a familiar wine and the peculiar warmth of a foreign touch.
The difficult thing about change, is that it makes trust in anything but the laws of discord nearly impossible.
Labels: Sixth Street Ar
