Hi Guys,
Having taken some advice from a lovely lady called Frances, I've been remodeling a few of the characters and chapters in book 5. I've just finished this chapter of The Tessellation Saga, as I said from from book 5 which apart from not being finished, also requires a title. Have a read and let me know what you think, either here or as before on twitter or facebook.
Mesa
Mesa sat at his desk pensively waiting for the call that
would take him to the women’s quarters with his nails digging into his palms
and drawing blood in an effort to take away his pain. He thought of the girl as he had last seen
her, writhing in pure agony, tired and as pale as death itself. The only light in her had been the light in
her eyes as he had called to her god, the mighty Tsaru, to bless her and accept
her passing into his realm with ease. He
had done everything he could to help her after her beating but she had been too
gravely injured, all he could do was to try and ease her passing himself by
taking away her pain and settling it upon himself. As his pain ended abruptly he knew she had at
last gone beyond the realm of life and now travelled toward Tsaru and the
golden gates of heaven, where, he hoped she would not judge herself too
harshly. Tired from the long hours of
enforced and intense pain he let the tears flow down his cheeks and he sobbed
like a child for the death of the tiny Albastian girl, not because she was
gone, but because he knew he was glad her suffering was finally ended.
Hours later Mesa still sat waiting, where are they, someone should have checked on her by now... He thought and cursed the eunuchs whose job
it was to watch over the king’s personal slaves. Walking over to the couch he sat down and
rested his head on the soft pillows as he stared out of the window at the star
filled sky and wishing he was with Tisri even now. Eventually sleep crept upon him and he
drifted off into the dark world of dreams.
Next morning he awoke, again feeling apprehensive and
nervous, his body was still sore from the pain of the last few days but he
smiled sadly remembering her pain had had last ended and she had been set
free. A gentle knock on the door
heralded the beginning of his day’s work and he tried to put her out of his
mind as he somehow continued with his day’s tasks. As the sun rose and again fell, Mesa was
still waiting.
Two days later the sun had finally begun to sink into the
sea as his secretary burst unannounced into his office. He almost giggled with the final release of
the tension that had been building since he had felt her death but stood up and
turned away from his secretary to stare out of the window at the pink and
orange sky muttering loudly that her death was decidedly inconvenient, as the
king was still away, on earth.
Nevertheless, he gave orders for the eunuchs’ to ensure
the king’s women were appropriately covered from the prying eyes of the men
that would be entering the harem and sat quietly at his desk to drink his tea,
allowing time for the orders to be carried out.
He laughed at the ridiculousness of his order knowing that MeGath’s body
slaves anyway, habitually wore as little as possible; mainly to allow MeGath
easy access to their bodies and one only had to open one’s eyes to see
everything they had to offer. An hour
later he hurried from his office down the many steps and out of his tower,
crossing the cobbled courtyard with his robes flapping around his ankles and
into the man part of the castle itself, past the king’s private chambers he
hurried and into the corridor that led to MeGath’s harem and finally to Tisri’s
room, where he ordered a guard to remain outside the door and called for the
head eunuch to attend him.
Closing the door behind him he moved almost reverently
toward the bed and sat down beside the cold and dead body with tears again in
his eyes and a lump stuck hard in his throat.
A small candle, fluttered weakly at the head of the bed
causing shadows to move gently across the many bruises that marred her
skin. ‘I’m so sorry my dear, so very
sorry,’ he whispered noting the purple and yellow bruises standing out on the insipid
olive skin like they never had before. Gently
he reached out and brushed the long hair away from her forehead before softly
running the back of his warm fingers against her cheek. Taking the pale and cold hand in his own, he
sighed and clutched it between his own as if to give it warmth. The arm moved with a soft ease, all rigor
having long since gone from the body, she could have been asleep, except for
the multiple bruises and abrasions in their many stages of healing. Never having been a violent man, despite his
hardened reputation which was all a necessary fabrication, Mesa was sickened by
yet another death to man’s perversion. When will it all stop, when will it
stop! He wondered as a gentle knock
sounded on the door. Hastily he released
the hand and placed it back on the Albastian girl’s breast before standing and adjusting
his clothes, once again the professional Magsmen.
‘Come…’ He called
and stepped forward taking the girl’s pale limp wrist between his thumb and
forefingers so as to be seen taking the girl’s pulse. ‘Where is the physic mage?’ He asked as a bald and effeminate eunuch walked
into the room, Mesa stared at him in barely disguised disgust knowing he had
deliberately given up his magical ability along with his manhood to work for
the king in his harem, just like all eunuchs the world over. He turned his focus back to the bed and the
dead girl as a second person was ushered into the room by the guard
outside. Mesa glanced at her as the door
closed behind her and he realised he knew who she was. Apple,
a woman known to Tisri as Apple, a woman Mesa knew was owned by Toby
Hollins and, one of the original Green Homers,
he recalled, remembering the long and eventually productive search he had
secretly carried out over so many years whilst searching for the elusive Gideon
Green.
The eunuch coughed and looked uncomfortable, squirming
under Mesa’s intense stare. Mesa turned
again to the body and casually released the cold hand.
‘King MeGath took all the palace physic mages and the
resident hedgewitch to earth with him on this trip my lord,’ the eunuch said in
a small but obsequious voice, ‘and by his command, I found Apple here, a
disabled slave belonging to Mr Hollins to work on the pri… er, this slave’s
hurts.’ He gulped as he realised he had
inadvertently shown knowledge of the princess’s former station.
Mesa let the slip go apparently unnoticed and watched as
the eunuch relaxed a little. It would not do to anger the man too much… Mesa thought feeling the sweat beginning
to build up on the small of his back and turned quickly to Apple allowing his
flowing robes to move against him soaking up the offending moisture.
‘What is your qualification woman?’ He asked assuming a disinterest but knowing
the question would be expected and with a badly hidden glance to the eunuch,
Apple looked Mesa directly in the eye as she answered.
‘Me lord, I’ve been taught by the Dervourian Hedgewitch,
Dotty an’ me master allows me to ‘elp the slaves in the breeding pens an’ the
non-magical Arotians when I can, an’ iffen don’t need me o’course.’ She said defiantly. Mister Castor ‘ere, well, ‘e didn’t call me
to this girl afore now.’
‘Now, is a little late, is it not Castor?’ Mesa asked turning a cold and steely gaze
toward the fat eunuch who remained outwardly clam but his tightly fisted hands
and white knuckles belied his composure.
‘Milord, she didn’t appear to be so ill, I thought she
was recovering from the beati... Er, the
accident I mean, just like she has each time before.’ Mesa said nothing, allowing his anger to
build at the eunuch’s casual dismissal of the tiny child’s repeated
beatings. The silence became profound
and the eunuch, in an attempt to fill it spoke again. ‘Really my lord, she was recovering, I, I
thought she was recovering. She was
favouring her side a little and had a little difficulty breathing but...’ Mesa interrupted the fat man’s speech by
pulling the thin but soft blankets away from the corpse exposing her entire
right side. A deep moan escaped from the
fat, wet lips and Apple sucked in a deep breath in horror, placing her hands
over her mouth.
“May your Journey’ be swift, little one.’ She whispered through her tears of sorrow as
she gazed at the girl’s near naked body.
Beneath the blankets the body had more than just cuts and bruises, at
least two ribs were broken that she could see from noting their awkward
alignment and a deep depression in the centre of her chest covered almost
entirely by a large black bruise showed where a heavy punch had been received.
‘A little difficulty breathing...’ Mesa repeated the fat eunuch’s words back to
him pleased to see that the man was at last beginning to visibly sweat. ‘And this is the first time a healer of any
sort has seen her?’ He said coldly as
the fat man trembled visibly.
‘I did not realise sir, truly, I did not realise...’ Castor squealed with a profound and deep
regret, his pallor turning from a healthy cream to a pasty white and Mesa could
swear he heard the man’s belly rumble as his bowels reacted to his fear. Mesa refused to feel sorry for him, knowing
the sorrow he could now see was for the man himself and without doubt the
punishment MeGath would inflict upon him for letting the girl die whilst in his
care, not for her suffering.
‘I believe this was the King’s favourite body slave, he
will not be best pleased,’ Mesa said softly, allowing the eunuch a moment to
think about the king’s undoubted ire.
Holding his chin between his finger and thumb Mesa rubbed it
thoughtfully as if trying to come to a decision.
‘As she was who she was and the king’s property, remove
her to the crypt but don’t burn her, MeGath may want to see her body himself to
ascertain she is indeed dead, after all we all know her antecedents however
hard the king has tried to hide them and throwing a royal princess to the
furnaces is not a decision I wish to make.
Yes, that’s it.’ Mesa said with a
more determined voice. ‘I will place the
body in stasis until the king’s return and then he can decide what to do with it,
I am sure he will want it destroyed, he cannot afford to let her death at his
hand be widely known!’
Castor sighed softly in relief; if the body was to be
held until the king’s return it gave him a chance to get far, far away. Mentally he began to list the things he would
need in order to maintain a certain standard of living. Mesa watched the eunuch from beneath his
eyelashes and could almost see the thoughts in the man’s head. He’ll
run, if he has any sense anyway...
He concluded silently.
Evidently with his mind made up and feeling better, the
eunuch moved from the bottom of the bed to stand beside the girl’s left side,
again he looked at the brown robed magsmen and for the first time showed
genuine sympathy for the dead body lying between them. He placed his hand on the blanket covering
her left side from shoulder to toes and whispered a soft prayer for her
soul. In horror Mesa noticed a small
stain beginning to seep through the thin coverlet under the pressure of the fat
man’s hand, a stain just about where the fresh tattoo wrapped around the
corpse’s left arm and the sweat began to run down his back once more, pooling
at the base of his spine.
‘Cover her again; give her a little dignity in death at
least...’ Mesa said as he reached out
and pulled the blanket from under the fat man’s hand hiding the smeared blood
stain from view as he covered the girl’s body for the last time, leaving
nothing exposed. ‘Now...’ Mesa began as he held his hands in prayer
before spreading them over her body and he held them there as he sang the notes
of the spell that would encase her in ice, ice as hard as diamonds and an ice
that would never melt regardless of heat.
The notes swirled and danced through the room in a sad
parody of a beautiful poem and Mesa’s eyes filled with unshod tears as he
thought of the horrors this disabled child had been forced to endure. Firstly, by being abandoned by her family for
being disabled, sold into slavery and into the sex trade where soldiers on rest
were able to use and abuse her at will.
Finally, by being beaten to death by a soldier now dead by another’s
hand, a soldier who had wanted to emulate his king and own a whore. The candle spluttered and went out causing
Mesa to conjure a small light orb that hung low over the body as the temperature
in the room plummeted and the ice began to form. The blanket held the ice away from the delicate
skin but became translucent as it solidified and the newly crafted tattoo of
ivy and roses that wrapped her left arm blended into the bruises and wounds that
shone through the ice as if magnified, dark purple and yellow lesions
occasionally crossed by many deep red welts adorning the body grew visible as
the ice grew thicker and the evidence of one man’s cruelty was held in check
until the king returned.
Once the ice casket was finished Mesa lifted his hands
and blew warm breath into his palms, he was sorely tired, not having performed
magic of this magnitude in many years.
The scantily clad eunuch was also slightly older and cold, his lips and
skin wore an unhealthy shade of blue and his teeth were clamped together
tightly. No doubt to stop them from chattering, Mesa surmised, feeling
slightly guilty as he realised the balance had also taken from the eunuch’s
life force. His thought was confirmed as
the eunuch spoke.
‘M m m my lord...’
He began but Mesa lifted a hand to silence him.
‘Go and prepare a communication to be sent to my rooms
relating to the death of this slave and I will ensure MeGath receives it as
soon as he returns from earth. Then call
an escort to remove the casket to the crypt, ensure that it remains covered
from prying eyes and guard it until his return.’ He said coldly as the eunuch bowed low and
left the room congratulating himself on his lucky escape and again going over
in his mind what he would need to pack to continue his life of ease elsewhere.
Apple stood silently in the room watching the magsmen as
he sang his spell, she knew from experience that she needed to be as far away
from the mage as she could be, just in case the balance took from her as the
path of least resistance. Her relief as
the room grew colder was as noticeable as the tears glittering in Mesa
Rattish’s face. ‘E’s not as cold ‘arted as ‘e makes out ter be! She thought and
resolved to ask him, if she got the chance, about the welfare of Linnet her
granddaughter and his wife’s house slave.
She thought of the child again as her skin began to prickle and she
moved back once more, this time into the very corner of the room where she
huddled against the walls. Her thoughts
only interrupted as the eunuch, Castor stuttered like a school boy as he
attempted to speak and the magsmen dismissed him. Not knowing quite what to do, she remained
where she was, evidently forgotten.
Again Mesa sat on the edge of the bed, his side nestled
against the block of cold ice that covered the body of the Albastian girl. ‘I’m so very sorry I couldn’t heal you my
dear, I wasn’t told about you in time to do more than take away your pain. I promise you I will do all in my power to
put a stop to the abuse of slaves and to work for their freedom.’ He said softly, finally adding, ‘the Princess
Tisri, will live because of your sacrifice and I swear by the mighty Tsaru I
will get her to safety.’
Apple stared in shock as she listened to the chief of
magsmen, she had overheard truths that were not meant for her ears and knew she
was as good as dead, as the tears fell silently down her face she mentally said
goodbye to her friends, her family and Mayan’s tiny twin children she would now
never hold. As Mesa finished speaking the
candles suddenly flickered back to life sending shards of golden light
refracting through the ice casket in a beautiful warm and golden light and Mesa
smiled as he imagined the warm breath of the mighty god washing over him.
Apple gasped loudly, causing Mesa, who had indeed
forgotten that she was there, to turn around and stare straight at her.
‘I saw a bull; I saw a great golden bull standin’ on the
ice!’ She said softly and as she spoke a
darkness came over her and she drifted away.
