The Leaf Pendant
By
C. Hollis Gunter
Copyright 2013 C. Hollis Gunter
She stood in the middle of a small windowless room. Shelves lined each wall, stacked with books and wooden figurines, some she recognized. They were the only reminders of Salinoth she had seen since her arrival; stone buildings and streets covered what had once been the great home of the elves. Her heart ached for what was, but she kept her emotion hidden.
Voices from the other side of a large oak door interrupted her thoughts. She turned away and fixed her dark green eyes on a figurine of a raven. The door opened and closed, but she refused to look away from the raven; these humans deserved no respect of acknowledgement. The chair behind the desk scraped across the stone floor and she heard a sigh.
“Celeste, child, why have you come?”
The words spoken were in the Elvish language and the voice familiar, but she focused on the raven. A single tear betrayed her and rolled down her cheek; that would be the last tear.
“Celeste, you have broken the law passed down by the Council of Fire by coming here. The reason must be important. Tell me. Why?”
A knot formed in her throat and more tears joined the mutiny. Nothing had gone to plan. First she was captured and now her emotions betrayed her. Her husband’s arms were all she had wanted.
Qa’Veck stepped in front of her; his face stoic. She looked at him for the first time in forty years. He was her father’s twin and a leader on the Council. He hadn’t changed; his green eyes were cold and still looked as though they could force a mountain to step aside. His waist long, silver hair was tied loosely behind his neck in the manner that all council members wore. She wanted to reach out and hug her uncle. Instead, she looked down at the iron shackles that bound her wrists and took a deep shuddering breath.
“I only wanted to be with my husband.”
Qa’Veck took a key from the desk and unlocked her restraints. “And being captured and enslaved would bring you closer to Tarin?”
“I wasn’t supposed to get caught.”
“It was a foolish adventure. You have endangered everything we have worked for.”
“But, you don’t understand.”
Qa’Veck threw the shackles across the room and turned his icy gaze to her. “I don’t understand? I have been away from my own wife for almost forty years! I haven’t seen my children since four days after they were born! I don’t understand?”
She rubbed her swollen wrists and set her thin lips together, determined not to allow the tears again.
Qa’Veck took a deep breath. “Celeste, you will be Princess Elanya’s personal servant. You will do all that she requires. For the sake of your people, Celeste, do not attempt an escape.”
“When will I see Tarin.”
“You have changed nothing. You will see Tarin when the path the Council has laid is complete. You will speak no more of it. If you so much as attempt to see him, you will not like the outcome.”
Her eyes brimmed over and the tears ran down her cheeks to fall from her chin. She tried to speak but brought forth sobs instead of words.
“The Princess will insist that you call her by her given name,” Qa’Veck said. “You will not refer to her by that name. Whenever you speak to her, or of her, you will address her as Princess, or Princess Elanya. She will voice her frustration, but the title reminds us of our place.
“We are the slaves in this human city. You lost any semblance of freedom that you had when you decided to go on this fool’s errand. Do you understand?”
She had so many questions, but only managed a slight nod.
“It is time we cleaned you up and introduced you to the lady of the castle.”
She followed her uncle through a maze of hallways and open areas. The walls, the floors, even the ceilings were spotless polished granite. Colorful tapestries that depicted the horrific history of the human race hung throughout. She flinched as they passed one tapestry that showed the Elder Tree aflame while human soldiers held their swords high.
The washroom her uncle escorted her to was a windowless stone closet with a small table and mirror and a large wooden vat. Steam rose from the water it held. On a chair was a faded green frock; she assumed it was for her. She didn’t turn when the door was closed behind her. Tears welled up and she allowed them to fall one last time.
She shrugged out of the simple dress she wore; it was muddy and torn from the struggle with the slavers. The frock on the chair had the look and feel of a burlap sack. The fabric would rub her raw after a day of work; nothing a bed sheet and thread couldn’t fix. She chided herself for allowing a dress to distract her from her current problem and dropped the rag back to the chair.
The hot water stung her many scrapes and where she had rubbed her wrists and ankles raw on the shackles. The water turned river brown by the time her chin touched its surface. She sat with her nose just above the surface of the water for several minutes until she finally pulled down a bar of soap that sat on the vat’s edge.
Forty years of separation was too much for the Council to expect. They should have allowed all of them to be captured or to escape, but they had their grand scheme. Somehow they thought the slaves could befriend the younger humans and end the war in peace. It was a foolish scheme; idealistic at best. She threw the soap across the room in frustration and submersed her head into the murky water.
She stepped out of the tub and sat in the chair. There was a wooden comb on the table, so she ran it through her long golden hair. The reflection in the mirror seemed to ask if she had changed in forty years. The green eyes were still as cold as her uncle’s and her thin pale face appeared the same as it had for most of her life. She wondered if Tarin looked the same, or if years of slavery had aged him.
One last look in the mirror and she draped the frock over her thin frame. She took a deep breath and turned towards the door. Her uncle and the life as a slave waited on the other side. Friends and family had suffered this, so would she; with dignity. She straightened her dress and reached for the door.
They stood in front of a closed door in the central tower of the castle. Qa’Veck explained to her that this was Dalth Tower; apparently each of the towers were named after the murdering families that ran the kingdom.
“Princess Elanya is a kind girl,” Qa’Veck said and turned to face Celeste. “You are very lucky the king purchased you. Treat her with kindness and she will return the kindness two-fold. You are a slave in the eyes of the kingdom, but Princess Elanya sees you through her own eyes.” He turned away and tapped on the door. “But that does not mean that you should trust her. Trust no humans.”
A young woman’s voice responded to the quiet knocks with an invitation to enter. Qa’Veck directed her into the room and closed the door. A knot formed in her stomach; she was alone with the woman. She was alone with her new master. She looked at the floor and wondered how many hours were to be spent on her knees scrubbing it.
It was a large room, much larger than either of the rooms she had been in since her capture. To her left was a large stone fireplace with the symbol of evil above it, the Dalth Kingdom’s crest; a large blue and yellow shield with a sword across it at an angle. The irony of the symbol was the broken shackles that hung from the swords tip. Another sheathed sword leaned against the stonework of the fireplace, its hilt was jeweled and intricately carved; dwarven made. It looked much like the sword her uncle had carried in the war.
A young human lady stood on the other side of the room in front of two large doors filled with colorful stained glass. She wore a floor length, forest green dress. Her black hair was braided and wrapped around her head in an artificial crown. The way she carried herself demanded respect, which left little doubt o
f who she was.
Princess Elanya turned away and opened the doors. Beyond them was a large balcony and beyond that was a spectacular view of the forest that surrounded the granite stain of human life. She reminded herself that hate was an emotion that needed to remain checked as much as her sorrow did.
“Come with me,” Princess Elanya said.
The resonance of her voice calmed Celeste enough that she stepped out to the balcony. Her eyes remained fixed on the forest beyond the city, though the high, granite, city wall was now in her vision; another reminder of her imprisonment. She wondered for how long.
“Sit down and tell me your name.”
“I would rather remain standing, Princess Elanya.”
“You will find that we will get along much better if you do as I ask. Now, sit down and tell me your name.”
Celeste was taken aback by the lack of malice in Princess Elanya’s voice. It almost sounded like she was pleased with her defiance. She walked over to a bench and sat down; her eyes never left the forest.
“My name is Celeste.”
“Celeste. What a beautiful name. I do admire the elves choice in names.” There was a moment of silence. “Look at me, Celeste. If we are to converse, you will look me in the eye. I am simply a teenager. My grandfather is the ruler of this kingdom, not me. I am Elanya, nothing more.”
Celeste turned her gaze to the princess. She was a very pretty girl, with kind blue eyes. Her expression was serious, but there was an aura of sympathy and happiness. Had she not been human, Celeste felt as though she would have befriended her.
“Celeste, this situation we are in is as new to me as I am sure it is to you. Qa’Veck has always been with me. He has taught me many things and I have never thought of him as a servant. My grandfather decided that it was time that I acquired a servant of my own.” Elanya paused a moment and ran her fingers along the edge of the bench. There was a hint of anger in her eyes. “I don’t agree with slavery, Celeste.”
Celeste looked away and stared at the mountains in the distance. She was pierced with another pang of sorrow when she realized that the view was one she had seen before from one of the guest rooms within the Elder Tree. Anger seeped back in and she turned her eyes back to the human princess.
“I don’t agree with it, but there is nothing that I can do, Celeste. We will have to make the best out of the situation we are in.”
She wanted to ask her new master what situation she thought she was in; the girl was the slave owner. Instead she swallowed her anger. “What are my duties to be, Princess Elanya?”
Princess Elanya’s shoulders slumped. “Duties? You are not very good at making the best of it, are you? Very well. From sun up till sun down, and sometimes beyond, you will be by my side.”
“What are my duties to be, Princess Elanya?”
“What did you do before?” Princess Elanya looked exasperated and threw her hands in the air. “What did you do before this happened? Before my grandfather burned you out of your home? What, Celeste?”
“I was a dress maker, Princess Elanya.”
“Good then. You will make my dresses.”
“That will hardly take all my time, Princess Elanya. What are my other duties to be, Princess Elanya?”
The princess flushed for a brief moment and said something under her breath. If the girl was to be her master then she needed to learn her role. Celeste started to speak until she saw a light in Princess Elanya’s eyes. The princess grabbed her by the arm with a firm, but not rough, grip. They went into the main room and to a door beside the fireplace. She threw the door open and Celeste couldn’t believe what she saw.
The room was as large as the main room. The afternoon sunlight wrestled through the grime on the windows and showed the dust that hung in the air. The floor was not visible; crates, chests, cloth, furniture, and unknown trinkets were stacked high enough to obscure what may have been a bed at the base of the four posts that held up a torn canopy.
“This should keep you busy for a while.”
It was the middle of the afternoon of the following day when Princess Elanya summoned a dwarf to show Celeste to the servant’s chambers. The long night and day of work that showed little progress almost made her regret the way she had pushed the girl. She wasn’t even sure why she pushed the girl. Regardless of the reason, she was covered in dust and cobwebs and her back ached. She wondered if the dwarf would show her the way to the tub she had failed to thoroughly enjoy the day before.
Those hopes were dashed when the dwarf refused to answer any of her questions. He just grunted and walked down the stairs without so much as a glance over his shoulder. She tried to memorize the path to the servant’s chambers, but as had happened the day before; she was lost.
A multitude of stairs and turns later they arrived at the end of a long passageway. On either side were open doorways; he pointed to the one on the right. She stepped into the room and saw beds lined two walls. The room was long enough to hold almost thirty beds on each wall. In the center of the room were two wash tubs and a long bench between them. Towels, soap, hairbrushes, and combs were strewn across the bench. The room was empty of people with the exception of a young elf who sobbed curled up at the foot of one of the beds.
“This is where you will be whenever you are not with Princess Elanya. Your assigned bed be the fourth one down on the far side.” The black-haired dwarf pointed a short finger in the direction of her bed. “We are slaves, so don’t expect privacy, no doors, no curtains. Not that you elves were ever bashful about your bodies.
“The water in the tubs is changed the first day of the week and emptied the last. If you are the last in the tub on the last day of the week, you are expected to change the water. The well is at the far end of the room, and believe me, you don’t want to be the first in the tub.”
The elf on the floor hadn’t looked up. Celeste turned her attention back to the dwarf. “I would like to get to know the castle, so that I can find my way around when needed.”
“Oh, I suppose you could try that.” The dwarf chuckled at something he found amusing. “But without a pass from Princess Elanya, the guards will strike you down. If you are lucky, that is all they will do.”
“I am not allowed to leave this room?”
“There are two hours a day when slaves are allowed to travel the castle without escort; in the morning when you report to your master, and in the evening as you return here. Be mindful that not all inhabitants of the castle keep the same clock.”
The dwarf walked away and left her in the room with the sobbing elf. She had so many questions, but it was clear he had answered all he wanted. He hadn’t even told her when those hours were.