Chapter Twenty-Four

‘The history books tell of a time of peace for many years. The group later known as the Assassins of Maralay were commonly known as the Peacekeepers.’ 

Alis didn’t appreciate being thought of as a child or being treated as if she couldn’t handle important situations. There had been times already when she had saved Caid’s life; he had no right to treat her like she would be unable to handle a speech. Sure, she had been caught up unaware last time and punched by a man three times her size. She had been unconscious for the entirety of Seer Pryce’s speech, but she was more prepared now¾braver, smarter, more alert.  

Alis kicked a rock with the tip of her shoe. She had taken a back alley out of Cros; she didn’t feel like being in the tunnels. The rock skipped across the dirt path and skidded to a stop some five feet away from her; she took a few strides and kicked it again.  

Alis was ready to start the fight against men like the Seer of Cros¾she needed to avenge her parents. Alis bit her lip; she hated when she thought of her parents as already being dead. She always quickly transformed the thought into finding and saving her parents. 

She would show them she had taken the responsibility on herself and carried on their legacy. She had finished the tunnels, next she would start the rebellion, and finally she would save all those slaves who had disappeared into the mines.  

Saving the slaves would start by taking out Pryce, the man who ran the mines with his pocketbook. If something significant was going on there, it would be Pryce who would have organized it all.  

Alis looked up and took a left turn into another small alleyway. She chose a new rock and began kicking it as she walked and thought.  

How was she going to rally the slaves to stand up for themselves? Hav’Un had probably been right, she was going to ultimately fail; she shook the thought from her head. Doubt was like a disease, it had to be remedied constantly.  

Alis walked through mostly empty alleys for a good portion of the morning. She passed from Cros into Helios, then turned up into Oranaos. She reached up, checking the ribbon in her hair¾today it was green. She had no need of any prestige for walks across the city; all she needed was to be left alone.  

Oranaos was relatively quiet. The seer here, Seer Maddoc, would have had it no other way. He would have immediately squashed any riots or rebellions. He would most likely join the war on Cros’s side if one were to break out full-scale, but he would not allow his district to participate in riots and other folly.  

Alis kept her head down. There would be no one here who would remember the face of a slave from so long ago, but this part of the city always brought out the worst in her. Every memory she had here was tied to being a slave. Nothing good came out of Oranaos; it was a place where happiness went to die.  

Alis walked to the slave gates in the back eastern part of the district, bypassing the front entrance, which was oddly locked in the middle of the day. Instead, she moved along the wall, stopping about midway down. There, her father and mother had made their first escape from the quarters, long before they’d built the tunnels. She tapped the discolored block in the wall, and it pressed in on its hidden hinges. Alis walked through the makeshift door and found the slaves were all lined up in the streets. Strange. There, standing in the middle of them, was Seer Maddoc, a large whip dangling from his left fist.  

Alis flinched at the sight of the whip. She didn’t know Seer Maddoc well or this whip, but all whips were the same, all slave drivers were the same. Alis slowed down, a feeling of panic making her want to retreat into the safety of the tunnels. No one had yet seen her, and she could still easily make it down into the depths below the city.  

Before she could act on it, her curiosity took over. She had seen men with whips inside the slave quarters plenty of times. What shocked her was seeing the Seer of Oranaos inside the walls of the slaves. She had seen him in pictures and at the election rallies she had sneaked into, but she had never seen him step foot into this area of the city. That piqued her interest, overriding her fear and logic.  

If anyone saw her in the slave quarters with her long hair tied in a ribbon and clean attire, she would be questioned and ultimately thrown into the city jails. She would be in trouble for impersonating a common woman, for escaping as a slave, and for spying on the seer.  

Alis carefully moved toward the crowd, her interest in Maddoc overpowering her instinct for survival.  

“To the mines and back home, that is all I expect to hear from my men. I don’t expect you to be out after the sun sets. I don’t expect you to dally and find yourself amid riots. I don’t expect to find your corpses on the side of the alleyway, stinking up our air. Because if I do, well, let’s just say it will be bad for the whole population,” Maddoc said. 

“As you may know already, this is being brought on by a mishap, and that mishap better never occur again. On the night the dear Seer of Cros’s home was attacked, three slaves wandered the streets well past curfew. Bodies of several men were found in the district of Cros, and that leads me to think certain slaves saw or committed the act.” Maddoc waved his hand, and two envoys pushed forward the three slave men Maddoc had been speaking about. The last man tripped, bringing down the other two who were shackled to him. The envoys laughed, but with a stern look from Maddoc, their faces quickly returned to their stoic expressions. The envoys pulled the three men up and finished their march to a makeshift platform near Maddoc.  

“As a sign of complete leniency, I have decided to forget the act ever occurred,” he continued. Yet, Alis noticed that the envoys were strapping knotted ropes around the men’s necks. “After today, we will never speak of this again. After today, you will adhere to the rules that have been put in place.”  

Maddoc lifted his hand again, and the envoys kicked the men from the platform. Alis watched their bodies wiggle, their feet kick, and the creaking ropes swing wildly. There was no forgiveness here¾this was a message to everyone gathered, to do as they were told or die. Yet another demonstration of how little a slave’s life really meant.  

Alis wanted desperately to cut the men free; she knew, as well as she was sure the seer did, that these men had not committed an act of violence on the citizens of Cros. This was meant to quell any fire burning in the slaves’ chests¾to silence any who would consider standing up against the wrongs that had been committed.  

The faces of the men soon went slack and their bodies stopped wiggling, but the ropes never stopped creaking.  

“Remember the sacrifices of these men in exchange for forgiveness to all, and let no others make their mistake.” Maddoc walked away, and the envoys followed him, leaving behind an unspoken message that the men should not be touched, but rather left in place as a visual for any who would rally.  

Alis was rooted to the ground; her knees felt like jelly and she felt sick. The rest of the slaves were also frozen in place, watching the three men swing back and forth on their short ropes.  

This was what a slave meant to a normal person¾absolutely nothing. They were mere pawns to be used in the larger game. They were cattle to be tamed inside the fields. She had always known that, and she had seen violence before, but that never made it easier. It was always hard to see someone else dying; especially when that someone could just as easily have been her.  

Alis stood there for what seemed like a long time, it could have been minutes, hours, or days.  

“You realize one of these days that will be all of us,” a voice said behind her.  

Alis slowly turned around and saw Hav’Un standing directly behind her, arms crossed over his chest. Unlike the other slaves, he showed no emotion or shock. Instead, he was staring at Alis as if he hadn’t just seen three men hung.  

“Not like that,” Alis answered.  

Hav’Un chuckled and grabbed her by the shoulder, leading her away from the tight crowd. Alis shook uneasiness from her body.  

“Maybe not with a rope tied around our necks, but we will all go the same way,” Hav’Un said. “Every slave will die at the whim of another. Starvation, murder, justice, it doesn’t matter what you call it. Most of us die the day we are conscripted to work in those mines. We may still walk, talk, and eat, but we are no longer people. Slaves are not viewed as people and they never will be in the eyes of men like Seer Maddoc.”  

Alis knew he was right, but something in her wanted to argue with him. She just didn’t have the words to do so. She had felt the same way the day the slavers had branded the sides of her head, the day the man had cut her hair from her scalp and left her feeling as if she was nothing at all.  

“It is the way of life here, and it has always been that way for our kind,” he continued. “You can grow your hair and walk amongst them, but you will never truly be one of them. The yellow ribbon may fool them for a time, but all disguises fail in the end.”  

Alis stopped walking and he, too, paused.  

“You look so angry,” he said.  

Alis shook her head. She was angry, very angry. She was angry at those who had enslaved them, at Seer Maddoc, at the city, at everyone who stood back and let this all happen.  

“We can change it,” she said louder than she had meant to. “We have to change it. Not just for you and me, Hav’un, but for everyone who is here now and everyone who will come in the future. We can’t sit by and let them continue without even trying!” She stopped and caught her breath.  

Hav’Un looked at her without expression. “Words are meaningless. Until you act, what do you suppose will change?”  

Alis thought about Caid and how he could turn those words into actions.  

“Gather up everyone who will listen, Hav’Un. You know the drill for this. Caid will teach you how to fight¾not just to fight, but how to win.”  

Hav’un shook his head. “He fills your mind with hope, and hope is death here. I will tell them, but I do not think it likely that they will change for one man.”  

“I do not expect them to change for Caid, I expect them to change for themselves,” said Alis.