Chapter 5

Anseyla Danjala quietly opened the door to her chamber. She looked along the corridor before she went inside and closed the door softly behind her. It was late and had been an especially strenuous night for her. She was exhausted and her body was sore as she sat down at her vanity desk but she smiled as she looked into the mirror in front of her. She took a small pot from the various cases and flasks, lined up in an orderly fashion on her vanity. She stopped smiling and cleaned her face of paint using the fatty crème the pot contained.

Anseyla was almost finished when the door to the corridor opened and a man stepped inside. He was a tall man and with his wide chest, big arms and thighs, he looked very strong. The precious silk clothes he wore didn’t really match his coarse face, marked by a thin scar running from his left ear across the bridge of his nose and up to his retreating hairline. He walked behind Anseyla and looked at her face through the mirror above her desk.

“Have your customers or your special friends shared any news about the matter since the last time we talked?” Fyn Rhosson asked.

“The Matter,” she emphasized, smiling in the mirror. “How delightful mysterious that sounds. I’ve heard the priests are secretly preparing for a grand ceremony but their special guest hasn’t arrived yet. I’ve also heard there are more spies at Katerra’s gates these days than there are actual travelers.”

He looked in the mirror and his callused fingers absently played with the silver strings woven into some of her raven-black tresses.

“For someone in your profession and with your connections, you have disappointingly little news to share - hardly noteworthy at all,” Fyn stated. “Do you want me to believe that’s all you know?”

“Your belief is no concern of mine,” Anseyla answered, her smile gone. “That’s all you get and all you have to pay for, which is hardly noteworthy at all. Keep your small coins and leave. I’m tired and want to rest.”

The fingers in her hair ceased playing. He roughly grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulled back her head and exposed her strained neck to the knife he held in his other hand.

“Do you believe you’re such a special whore I won’t kill you when you start to annoy me?” He asked, whispering. His lips touched her earlobe even as his knife touched her throat.

“No,” she answered, smiling despite her strained neck. “I know you won’t kill me that easily because you know my sister will find you. She will kill you just that easy but very slow and painfully if you are no longer able to hold my or my mother’s well-being over her head.”

Fyn let go of her but was smiling too now.

“Your big sister, the famous Evanis Danjala,” he reflected. “Do you know who was paid to intercept and capture the special guest the priests are waiting for?”

“If it was Evanis, why do you keep asking if someone arrived?” Anseyla asked.

“Because the moment Princess Rhaseris arrives in Katerra, I’ve been ordered to kill you and your mother,” he answered and smiled even wider.

“So keep on waiting - but not in my room.” Anseyla dismissed Fyn with a wave of her hand.

Fyn Rhosson left. With its smile gone, his face was once again as expressionless as his pale blue eyes.

Anseyla turned around in her seat, a small leather-upholstered bench. With her back to her vanity, she looked at the window she knew she had closed before leaving the room. Now the window was slightly ajar.

“Come on in,” she said.

Anseyla watched as the window opened wide enough to allow a small girl to slip into the room. She was clad in dark and dirty rags. A shawl covered her hair and most of her face, leaving only her eyes uncovered.

“How close did he come to dying?” Anseyla asked.

Her eyes followed the girl as she stepped closer. Suddenly, the girl jumped, spun in the air and landed smoothly with her butt on the vanity desk.

“You show-off,” Anseyla accused, laughing as she turned around again to face the girl.

The girl took off the shawl and shook out her long, bright-blonde hair.

“Not close enough,” she finally answered.

“You’re just like Eva, so bloodthirsty,” Anseyla criticized.

The girl blew a raspberry. “Evanis is a famous warrior and I’m just a thief, doing all I can to stay fameless for that very reason.”

Anseyla clicked her tongue. “You are Sybelien Ro... ,”

“No, I’m not!” The girl sharply interrupted. “I am Sybil Ghyssa, an orphan, like so many others whose parents and siblings died through the years of disease and starvation following the Yorak’s raid on Katerra.”

Anseyla watched the profile of the small girl’s face; the side Sybil allowed her to see. The right side of her face was of flawless beauty; a mouth with full pink lips, a straight and narrow nose and, below a gracefully shaped eyebrow, was the most beautiful sky-blue eye. She gently touched the young woman’s chin with her fingertips and, with the lightest pressure, turned the girl’s head revealing the side of Sybil’s face the girl was always careful to hide. A deep scar from brow to chin split this side of her face. The iris of her left eye was of a milky-white color, hardly distinguishable from its eyeball.

“You don’t have to hide from me, Sybelien. Your name and your face are as beautiful to me as the rest of you,” Anseyla said.

She stood up and placed light kisses along the scar until she reached Sybelien’s lips. Then they both kissed.

“I worked all day and I’m very tired but will you stay with me tonight?” Anseyla asked with a smile.

“Of course, I will,” Sybelien answered, returning her smile.

They both had been little girls the first time they had met. Since that day, they had often shared Anseyla’s bed. This night, just like any other night before, they slept tightly embraced, guarding each other’s dreams.

On the morning of the next day, they turned onto the trading road heading south towards Katerra. Kuwasi drove the carriage. Jabbit sat by his side and the big man taught him how to use the reins to steer the team of horses. Jabbit learned fast and was the one driving from midday until they stopped to rest for the night. Evanis, riding her horse, trotted along silently and deep in thought once more. The women inside the carriage could not be heard either.

During the day on the road, they came across many other travelers. Most of them were merchants and peasants on their way to Katerra to sell their goods, while others were returning and on their way home. The traffic on the Ewu was busy, too. Many boats, mainly small boats like skiffs and cogs with the occasional larger sailing ship or galley, could be found sailing nimbly down the river towards Katerra or rowing laboriously back up the river away from the once majestic city. It was late autumn in the lands along the Ewu. The crops had been harvested and now made their way to the people who didn’t sow or harvest but needed to eat, too.

In the blossom of the Alorian Empire more than a half-million people had lived in Katerra. Today the capital’s population didn’t number half as many. Thousands had died throughout the Yorak’s raid of Katerra but many tens of thousands died in the years following. The Yorak had burnt the granaries and robbed the city of most of its valuables. Left-behind without resources, those with the means and foresight had left the city altogether. But many of the residents couldn’t flee Katerra, especially the very old and the orphans. They had needed help and there was no help anymore. The Imperial Family had been killed and the Alorian Empire had died with them. So the young and helpless died too, as did the old and weak. They died of starvation and disease.

Evanis chose to camp for the night in a small sheltered cove along the shore of one of the countless small rivers and creeks feeding the Ewu. After they had eaten, they lay out their sleeping blankets. Evanis watched the princess placing hers next to Jabbit’s. While the princess prepared her bed, she often glanced over at Evanis.

The gaze Rhaseris cast at her, she interpreted as a mix of challenge and defiance. Does the spoiled little brat think I’m jealous? She asked herself. Evanis though felt certain in her invulnerability and just smiled at the girl in response. A little while later, after they all had laid down, Rhaseris, embraced by Jabbit lying behind her, watched Evanis across the dying embers of the campfire. The warrioress returned her gaze, still smiling.

Evanis noticed the movement of the girl’s shoulder and arm as Rhaseris rummaged behind her back, between Jabbit and herself. As her arm pulled back, the girl’s gaze intensified. She was staring directly at Evanis when suddenly Rhaseris gave a groan and her eyes rolled back inside her head. When her irises returned, her gaze was glassy but still directed at Evanis and accompanied by a little self-satisfied smile. She couldn’t keep the smile, as another moan arose from her mouth. The moan was low but prolonged and complemented by the shivering of her body. Evanis own muscles were so strained her body was nearly trembling, too.