Tales Around Estate

The trip to the palace had been a peaceful and uneventful one. High Baron Hesh Avernell had a simple trip from his personal star yacht to the imperial palace where he had been summoned.

It was not surprising that the invitation from Emperor Morek Vaesh was coming. He had been dining once a week with a different member of the Gray Council and Hesh was the last one on the list.

The man in charge of one of the powerful houses did not mind. He had been out of the sector handling a negotiation with House Gijol which the emperor would have known. Now, it was more than likely pleasantries and an update on how it all went.

Morek had done well after taking over from his father eight years earlier. The Empire had grown stronger and tighter knit. The only disaster was the discovered treason of House Klav and actions to deal with it. That was a nasty bit of business.

Hesh sat in his comfortable chair in the passenger section of the personal shuttle with only his two angels by his side. Guven, one of the few male angels that graduated as a bodyguard on one side, his cybernetic eye the only thing that broke that handsome face and the beautiful Eutiva, his oldest bodyguard. Though they wore simple outfits, he could spot the glimmer under their skin of the cybernetics and knew their armor of nanofibers was ready for a mental command at any moment.

The shuttle made its way towards the palace and the gentle bump told him that they had arrived. The hatch hissed open and, on the tarmac, he was met by the three maids bearing the collar of the royal family.

“My master,” the silver haired woman said bowing deeply while the other maids followed. “The emperor waits for you in his personal dining room.”

That was the first thing that made Hesh sense something was wrong. The inner part of the palace was sealed from all but his maids, his wife Empress Cilia, and a few others. Dining normally took place in one of the main rooms designed for just that.

Hesh glanced at Eutiva and he could see the flicker in her eyes. Something was off. There was nothing he could do now as all he could and should do was obey the command of his emperor.

Following the maid through the myriad of corridors, they arrived at a door that was flanked by multiple soldiers, angels of their own dedicated to the defense of the emperor.

“My master,” the lead angel said, his gray eyes focused on Hesh. Though he used the proper polite address, Baron Avernell had no doubt the man did not care about his title but only the defense of his charge.

“I must ask that your angels remain outside with us.”

“My lord,” Eutiva went to protest, her eyes growing wide, but Hesh raised his hand to silence her.

“Of course. As my emperor commands,” Hesh responded with a smile. He turned to Eutiva.

“Please wait for me in the shuttle. If, for some rare reason that I don't come back. You both are forbidden to fall.”

There was an unspoken between the two even though his conversation was polite and easy going. If something happened to him, he had just commanded his bodyguards not to seek revenge. What they called Fallen Angels.

Hesh could see that Eutiva desperately wanted to protest, to force her way in but this was out of her control and though the baron was not sure what was going on, he was not going to betray the emperor's trust. As the two left, Hesh was ushered into the private dining room of the Emperor of the Xaltean Empire.

“There you are!” Morek Vaesh called from his side of the ornate wooden table. Heshe's eyes immediately scanned the room and easily noticed the guards hidden in the shadow and could feel the tingle on his skin that cloaked angels were in the room. Hesh bowed low to the emperor but the exclamation from Morek stopped him.

“No, no. Enough pleasantries tonight, Hesh. Tonight is going to be something new.”

Walking towards the table and sitting in the chair that a cute maid pulled out for him, Hesh noted that there were three empty bottles of vevet wine on the table and a half full one by the emperor’s elbow. His glass filled halfway with the red liquid.

“Thanks for inviting me to dinner, ” Hesh said easily trying to make sure the mood did not affect him. He wanted to keep things stable as possible, especially if Morek was already drunk.

“You're quite welcome. Did you know I had to put up with the nonsense of all those other Council members just to get to you?”

“Oh?”

“Of course!” Morek said gesturing with his cup, the liquid splashing out. “I can't just randomly invite you without getting everyone's suspicions up. Can't make you look like you’re the favorite. Not safe for your health.”

“I'm flattered, your majesty. I don't know why—”

“Stop!”

Morek slammed his cup down on the table, the liquid splashing out, rage in his voice. He breathed in a tried to calm himself. “Just...stop.”

That was when Hesh saw him. There in the far corner was a robed figure in off white with red trimming. He wore a faceless mask.

An inquisitor.

Hesh stood, took off his ceremonial sword and handed it to a maid, removed his jacket with the ribbons and threw it over a chair. All he wore was his trousers and white undershirt. He took a bottle by, popped the cork, filled the glass, and took a swig. The burning liquid forced him to focus.

“Alright, Morek. Tell me what's bothering you.”

“Loyalty,” Morek said, his eyes studying him keenly.

“Do you question my loyalty?” Hesh asked simply. There was no reason to couch his words now.

“I don't know.”

“What makes you doubt me?”

Morek threw back his glass and drained it. He then wildly gestured at the guards who exited along with the shimmering forms of the cloaked angels. In the end it was just Hesh, the emperor, the inquisitor and two maids. A rather beautiful maid with long golden hair stood by the emperor's side. She wore a gold collar that told Hesh she was the arch-maid for her cohort. She deftly filled his cup again.

“Hesh. We have been friends since childhood. You jumped into that raging river to save me when we were twelve. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for your staunch support.”

Hesh Avernell remained silent.

“So, answer me this, Hesh. Answer me as the friend you have claimed you are.”

He finished another glass which was filled again.

“Are you having your way with my wife in your bed?”

Silence. Only the labored drunken breathing could be heard in the private dining room. Hesh threw back and drained his own glass and then looked at the emperor, his friend, straight in his eyes.

“Yes.”

Morek's eyes gleamed at the answer. He shifted and pointed at his friend from across the table.

“Are you after my throne?”

“No.”

“How can you prove it?” Morek asked.

“Only my word and the solemn oath of my House to your own. Avernell will always stand with Vaesh.” Morek slammed his fist on the table making utensils dance.

“That's what Orbet Klav said, and he tried to take the throne for himself. I had to forsake his entire house. Do you understand? I signed the death warrant for the slaughter of innocent men, women, and children because he tried to betray me. And he also claimed his word.”

Hesh's voice was hard and dark. It cut through the drunken stupor of the man who had so much guilt on his shoulders.

“I am NOT Klav.”

Morek and Hesh locked eyes and neither once waivered. The silence was loud, and Hesh could feel the buzz of the alcohol. Finally, Morek leaned back and let out a long, deep sigh.

“I believe you, Hesh. Everything you have ever done has always been to better my house or ours together. I just...I just needed to see if you would still be honest with me. I... I was prepared to kill you.”

“I know,” Hesh answered relaxing as he watched the Inquisitor leave. If they were leaving that meant he was safe.

“And you still told me the truth. Directly. To my face,” Morek laughed. “You looked me directly in the eye and admitted you're enjoying the empress’ beauty and didn't even bat an eye.”

“I swore to you to tell the truth no matter what when you ascended the throne,” Hesh admitted filling the glass and trying to steady his shaking hand.

“And you going to apologize for taking a man's wife?”

“No.”

Morek's eyebrow went up in a mixture of humor and disbelief.

“I apologize that it led you to believe that I was coming after your throne. That was never my intent.”

Morek laughed and waved his hand. “I know. Your bluntness is refreshing. All the polite words from the others and then there’s you. You tell me straight to my face. I've known you had an affair with Cilia before we were married, and I thank you.”

“You thank me? I'm the one confused now.”

“Cilia has needs. Needs I can't fulfill.”

“Morek.”

“I'm dying, Hesh. It's a matter of three or four years.”

The silence was back. Hesh Avernell knew about the emperor’s health issues but the diagnosis was new. He stared at the young man across from him.

“I knew you had some health issues, Morek…”

“It’s Eruk’s disease.”

With those words, everything came into focus. The emperor’s behavior, the fact he had gone from being an active individual to rarely being seen outside the walls and other small things.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Morek responded staring at his glass. “We always knew, we just kept it a secret. People with Eruk’s disease can live until the early sixties but mine seems to be accelerating. My DNA is tearing itself apart and you know it’s terminal. I’m not going to make thirty.”

“That’s why you were harsh with the Klavs,” Hesh mused.

“I was harsh with the Klavs because they were damnable traitors. Orbet declared it in front of all of us,” Morek snarled but then calmed himself. “But I do see what you mean. Yes. I expect Cilia to take my place when I die.”

“And?”

Morek sat back and steepled his hands in front of him as he stared at the plate of untouched food. The Arch-maid gently rested her hand on his shoulder which made him sigh and pat her hand as if it was comforting. Hesh tried to school his expression to remain neutral, but Morek saw it in his eyes. “I’m a horrible husband, aren’t I?” he asked.

“The life of an emperor is busy—”

“Hesh.”

“You are a horrible husband, Morek.”

Morek leaned forward, grabbed a piece of cheese, and nibbled on it as he thought.

“I knew I was not a good husband. I knew it before I was even married but it was expecting of me to marry the oldest daughter of House Brevet. At first, I was able to give her the attention she wanted but as the burdens of ruling got heavier and my health began to decline, I couldn’t. So, she went searching for you.”

Baron Avernell remained silent as he also picked up a spiced cracker and placed some jelly on it with the silver knife.

“Now, I find myself too exhausted to move some days. As you know, Cilia is quite…active.”

A smile crossed Hesh’s face before he could stop himself and Morek laughed and pointed at him. “See! I knew you’d laugh at that. Now, I rule from my throne room, my dining room, or my bedroom. Aetev has been wonderful in taking care of me on my bad days. She’s even taken good care of me when I have the energy for anything recreational.”

For anyone outside of Hesh and Morek, there would have been horrified expressions. Even the arch-maid, though her eyes were cast down in obedience as expected for her position, her face was beat red with the emperor admitting so casually she joined him in bed. The emperor was the epitome of power and though there was fluidity with bonded servants, the emperor was never to. It not only opened the possibility of an illegitimate heir if one was not careful, but it also put a target on the maid in question by the emperor’s enemies. The appropriate thing he should have done was request a concubine from the Scarlet Order. But who was Hesh to judge the emperor? He had just admitted he was having an affair with the Empress.

“Hesh, my friend. When my time comes, I want you to protect my family. I want you to back Cilia when she comes to the throne. She’s going to be terrified and needs a hand to help her. A hand that wouldn’t put their own personal or house goals in front of her.”

“You have always had that oath,” Hesh responded vehemently.

“It’s a lot to ask, Hesh. I know I’m being a horrible friend. To put on your shoulders the survival of two houses for no reward. The humans may become more aggressive, the Drull are eyeing the southern border again, and the Aten’kara Theocracy have begun probing the buffer zone.”

Morek let out a sigh as he finally finished off the bottle he had been working on when Hesh had arrived.

“You have my word.

Morek smiled genuinely for the first time since the High Baron had arrived.

“Alright. Let’s eat and talk like the old days before we remember our places,” Morek cheered.

And they did.

© 2019 – 2024 by Jonathan J Snyder. All Rights Reserved

TW: Violence

The cold weather was the hardest for Kinah to get used to. She knew that House Klav preferred the colder worlds, the Emissary Maid of the 3rd Order did not realize what cold was. House Nevakev from where she had come loved the temperate. This was not temperate.

It was early morning when Kinah had gotten out of bed, combed her pale red hair and created the intricate single braid down the back of her head. Once that chore had been done, she quickly donned her under skirt, top, and then layered two pull over robes over her head and then cinched them with her belt that displayed the three kovek ribbons she had earned through her career. Mistress Ulia of the Mournful Song Estate had warned her early on to use layers as the weather on Valkis was finicky. Kina had learned the first day that she had not layered enough when she thought she had.

Quickly exiting her room (for she discovered 3rd Order maids of her cohort were given personal rooms here), she made her way down the stairs and out into the frigid morning. Kinah's breath escaped in cold puffs of white as her feet followed a deep red sandstone path that wound through the lush grass and under the heavy evergreen trees. The trees were fascinating as they were trimmed in such a way that their branches created a natural cover for those on the paths if the rain, wind, or goddess forbid, snow swept through. Unlike her previous estate where everything was kept close to each other, Mournful Song Estate was spread out among the land with paths connecting them together. The only people she ran into were the guards standing half asleep and only alerting when she got close. A quick nod between them was the only communication.

Once Kinah had made it to the main pathway which was much larger, she saw the 2nd Order maid Tuv with her head dress firmly clamped on her head with a bow around her chin to keep it on.

“Good morning, peer Kinah,” Tuv said as she motioned for her to walk with her. “Hopefully you slept well.”

“I did. I believe I've adjusted to the weather.”

Well, the sun does not come up for another two hours, so I want to show you the proper way we handle the torch lighting as per our lord's preference. Mournful Song Estate is famous for its ambience and respect for the ghosts that haunt her lands.”

Ghosts. Yes. That was something that Kinah had not expected. Though she did not truly believe in the spirits of the long lost, House Klav was very dedicated to finding a balance between the living and the dead. There were multiple temples on the property that she had to learn to properly maintain so not to disturb the spirits sleeping.

Tuv began her explanation of the torches and how they were supposed to be handled. Kinah tried to focus as the breeze tried to steal her breath. Kinah tightened her belt a bit more to keep the body heat in as she also tried to remember the pattern of lighting that she was being told. It was the words that seemed to change into a strange, strangled choke that caused Kinah to abruptly stop and turn to look at her peer.

“Peer Tuv, are you—–”

The chill and drop in Kinah's gut were not from the weather. Tuv stood there, gasping as deep red blood poured from her throat. The 3rd Order maid's brain barely registered the shadow standing behind the unfortunate maid keeping Tuv's wrists pinned to her hips letting her quickly bleed out. The shadow gently lowered the now dead maid into the pool of her own blood.

Kinah gasped and stepped back as the masked shadow moved into the light. It was humanoid because the lower portion of his face was covered with a metallic mask, his upper and lower body covered in metal on top of an inner armor weave. The person held a knife in his hand. The terror that shot through Kinah caused her to step back with a stumble.

“Ashkatula,” the hoarse whisper of a terrified girl escaped Kinah's mouth. ‘Assassin’.

The assassin stepped forward as the sound of running feet in the woods reached her ears. Kinah knew she was dead but there was a deep desire to run.

“Hold your ground, maid,” a voice behind the assassin said. It was female but synthesized. Another similar dressed person stepped forward though the dull golden belt told Kinah that she was the leader of the attacking party. The Emissary maid froze in place.

“What is your rank and position?” the assassin demanded.

“Emissary Maid of the 3rd order. Recently transferred from House Nevakev,” Kinah barely got out, her mouth dry from the terror.

“I see.”

There was silence that was palpable while the sound of screams began to reach her ears. “Wha...what have I done to warrant death, arch-wraith?” Kinah ventured as she watched the woman's eyes study her.

“It is simple, Maid. You have been forsaken.”

Kinah did not know if she could have gotten colder but she did. Forsaken. The Estate had been Forsaken by the Empire. The maid fell to her knees unable to stand any longer.

“What has this estate done to offend the emperor?” Kinah cried, tears streaming down her face. Why she was still alive, she had no idea.

“It is not this estate,” the Arch-wraith continued with a hint of kindness in her voice. “The House Klav has been forsaken by Emperor Morek for treason against House Vaesh. All Estates have been struck. Your High Baron has already been executed by the Ashkatula. Now, your estate must pay for his crimes.”

Kinah slumped.

“But. You have an opportunity to live should you take it,” the Arch-Wraith offered.

The maid looked up, the tears now flowing freely, her mind thinking of her brother somewhere on the property. The reason she transferred.

“If you help me identify, locate, and access the estate so that the will of the emperor can be carried out, I will grant you one request that is within my power. You may use it to save your life. If you do not wish to accept, I shall end your life here as painlessly as I can.”

“I accept,” Kinah blurted quickly, a plan forming if she was fast enough.

“You swear your allegiance to the Ashkatula and carry out my orders?”

“I do.”

Silently, the assassin approached and tied a golden ribbon quickly around Kinah's left arm. “Wear this and no Ashkatula will touch you unless I say. Take me to the lord of the estate.”

***

What happened next was bloody. One of the instructions that was provided to Kinah was that if she saw anyone 2nd order or higher, she was to point them out. The first time she saw Yukin, the 2nd order technician and she pointed him out, she saw the betrayal in his eyes when an Ashkatula materialized behind him and slit his throat.

Kinah had become the specter of death to the house, but she dutifully carried out the instructions cause she needed it for her plan to work. Kinah became responsible for the deaths of those who had taken her in as a friend.

Closer to the manor they got, the more bodies they come across. Kinah tried to tip toe through the blood spilled and coating the once beautiful stones while the Arch-Wraith simply stepped through it as if it did not bother her. The 3rd order maid noted a tall stranger wearing dark robes but no armor following. His face fully covered in a smooth helmet with no features. She did not know who he was, nor did she want to know.

As they got through the side veranda into the main house itself, the stench of death and blood filled her nostrils. She immediately vomited on the floor and the Ashkatula patiently waited. It was the scream and a body come running around the corner that got Kinah's attention. It was Asa. The Estate maid and someone she became best friends with. She saw Kinah as she tripped over a body and fell into her arms. They both went to the ground on their knees as Kinah locked eyes with her soul mate.

“Kinah! What are you. We got to go—–” She was cut off as the Arch-wraith stepped forward.

“Kinah?”

“I'm right here, Asa,” Kinah said kindly holding her friend’s hands. “I'm right here.”

“They're killing everyone.”

“We've been forsaken.” The look of astonishment and then horror told Kinah that Asa realized what she was doing.

“Kinah...no,” Asa begged.

“I'm right here. You're not going to be alone.”

The tears flowed freely from Kinah's eyes as she gripped her friend’s hands tight. Asa saw the gold ribbon and gripped tighter.

“Save me. Please! Give the gift to me,” Asa begged.

“I…I can’t.”

The realization sunk in and the anger and betrayal on her face.

“You choose your brother over your lover?” Asa demanded bitterly.

How was Kinah supposed to answer? It was only a moment, but the treacherous maid finally spoke to the Ashkatula who had been more patient than Kinah had ever expected.

“First Order.”

The look of betrayal was cut short as the sharp dagger pierced the side of Asa's throat. Her friend jerked instinctively from the attack, but Kinah just whispered softly to her friend as her eyes dulled slowly, the blood coating Kinah's hands. Blood that she had shed.

When the soul of her lover departed her body, Kinah laid her gently on the ground and placed her hands on her chest in respectful pose and then stood scrubbing the tears out of her eyes smearing the blood across her face.

“Let's go.” Kinah growled and the Arch-wraith said nothing else.

***

It was at the security field that stopped them but unfortunately for those who were hiding inside, Kinah knew the code. The look of show on Lord of the Blue Yisuf Klav told him that he thought the field was going to be up. The Arch-wraith strode in with her assassins with bloodied Kinah by her side. Mistress Ulia stepped forward to defend her master but saw Kinah and the ribbon, her eyes understood. Kinah saw her own brother, a 1st order Technician standing with the family shocked to see Kinah.

“I'm sorry,” Kinah said to the mistress.

“Do not be,” Ulia said with a sad smile. “You were offered a chance. the goddess must have a future for you.”

“Lord Yisuf,” the Arch-Wraith called and the man stood, his wife and three daughters cowering behind him. Only he and the desk separated the killers.

“How DARE you attack us, assassin,” Lord Yisuf demanded. “Your crimes will be punished.”

The silent robed man with the mask stepped forward and walked over. He was unarmed but he only approached enough to hand the scroll he produced to the Mistress.

“I am your inquisitor. By order of Emperor Morek. For treason, attempted sedition, and other crimes against the sovereign ruler of our great empire, House Klav has been forsaken. As required, all leadership will be terminated, your bonded servants of 4th order and below will be re-appropriated to other houses, and your lands will be given to those houses loyal to the emperor...except for Mourning Song Estate. She will be abandoned and deconsecrated, to stand as a decaying warning to any other house that thinks of rising up against his sovereign.”

Duke Yisuf shook as he fell into his seat, his wife and children beginning to cry knowing it was also their death warrant.

“Arch-wraith,” Kinah started, and the woman turned to look at her. “My Boon.”

“Speak.”

Before Kinah could, her brother shouted.

“Kinah! No!”

“That technician is my brother. I wish to use my boon to save his life.”

“Kinah! Don't.”

“Then—–”

Before the Arch-wraith could complete what, she was saying, Kinah's brother threw himself forward with a shout of rage and struck out at the Inquisitor. Before he could even connect, an assassin slipped in between them and plunged his dagger deep into his chest. Ruk fell back with a grunt and Kinah screamed running to her brother.

“Why? You could have lived.”

“Save yourself,” he choked out before passing away.

“Kill the family,” The Arch-Wraith said.

As the assassins stepped forward and Duke Yisuf reached for the paperweight, Kinah stared at the cowering children. If she remembered, an eighteen-year-old, a seventeen-year-old, and a thirteen-year-old. Kinah had no reason to live anymore.

“Arch-wraith.”

The assassin looked at her again as the assassins hesitated for a moment. Kinah had to decide and she pointed to the thirteen-year-old in her mother's skirt being held tight.

“My boon. I ask for the life of the youngest.”

The assassin seemed to be surprised by the request.

“Really? You have only been here for a few weeks. You have not had a chance for loyalty with this house. Would you not want to spare your own life?”

“She is thirteen. The age of accountability is fourteen. She should not die for sins she is not accountable for.”

The assassin looked to the inquisitor who gave an almost imperceptible nod.

“Lord Yisuf. This maid who has earned the kiss of the Shadow, is offering her boon to your youngest. Send her to this maid and she will be spared. You will be offered this only once.”

Yisuf did not hesitate. He ripped the daughter from her mother who was screaming and pushed her into the arms of the waiting maid.

“Close your eyes,” Kinah whispered then covered the girl's ears. The three assassins made quick work of the Mistress, Duke, and the rest of their family. Kinah did see the look of thanks from the lady of the house before her life was taken from her.

Scooping up, the girl, Kinah fled into the other room and curled up against the wall, so the poor child did not witness any of it. Kinah ran. She ran as hard as she could until the cold air ripped the energy from her lungs.

She found herself at the edge of the estate, within the meditation paths that the estate used to use. She had been clutching the girl tight to her chest and finally slumped onto a marble seat by the trickling creek.

Kinah looked at the girl, her face streaked with tears though none were flowing now. She looked up into the 3rd order maid’s eyes, searching for something.

“I’m sorry,” Kinah whispered not sure what else to say. The girl reached out and took the 3rd order maid’s hand and held it, both unsure of what to do next.

Silence and the sun. That was what came next. The warm rays made them both blink and painted the surrounding deep green with brilliant orange and yellow. The birds had begun to sing, filling the deathly silence, seemingly marking the end of the violence that was behind her.

“What happens to me now?” the young girl asked, speaking for the first time.

“I don’t know,” Kinah answered. “You live. You’ll need to find purpose for your life.”

“And you?”

Kinah tried to smile at the girl but they both knew her life was forfeit now. The maid felt a gloved hand gently lay on her shoulder. The Ashkatula had finally come.

The young maid looked at the figure passing her, the inquisitor had stepped forward holding his hand out to the only survivor of Mournful Song Estate.

“Come with me, child.”

The girl gingerly took the Inquisitor’s armored hand and took a few steps before looking back to Kinah.

“What’s your name?” the girl asked. “I want to remember you.”

“Kinah.” she answered, the tears starting to stream down her face. “Yours?”

“Abiva,” the thirteen-year-old responded before following the inquisitor away.

Being left alone with only the sun, the birds, and her executioners, Kinah sighed.

What else was there to do? She couldn’t run. She could barely fight, and she gave up her only chance to the one who had just left. The girl got off the seat and went to her knees removing the ribbon from her hair. Wordlessly she wrapped her wrists together in the ribbon in the ceremonial bow of the dead, preparing her body for the Rite of Dust so that the god of shadow, Erit, could take her to whatever fate she earned.

“I beg of you to please give me my rites,” Kinah said, her voice wavering as she sensed them surround her. “I deserve that much.”

She closed her eyes. Kinah hoped to take the blade to the heart and not have to bleed out like the rest, but it was not in her power anymore.

“Do you want to die?” the Arch-Wraith asked.

What type of question was that? Kinah wanted to snarl that at her murderer. No one wants to die. “No.” she was able to get out.

“You are a 3rd order maid. The death warrant is clear that you are stripped of all your rights and that you must die.”

Yes. Kinah knew all of this. Why was the assassin still talking instead of just getting it over with.

“You…impressed me, Maid Kinah. That is not an easy feat.”

The girl’s eyes popped open and looked up at the assassin who had removed her lower face mask showing the weather, scarred expression of the Ashkatula leader. Kinah’s heart trilled for a second. Soldiers and assassins wore masks so that the gods would not know who was committing such heinous crimes or that was what they believed. If her mask was off, there was a chance she would live.

“It is a technicality but if you pledge yourself as a heshut to House Gijol and the Order of Ashkatula, I shall let you live. You will return to our estate to become one of ours.”

“The contract…”

“It says you must die at the hands of the Ashkatula. It doesn’t say when. You will die as one of our heshut…in essence by our hand one day. Do you accept?”

The sun brightened Kinah’s face, and she nodded with just a bit of hope.

“I accept, xixihanvash.”

© 2019 – 2024 by Jonathan J Snyder. All Rights Reserved

A Star Traveler short story

POP, crunch, crunch.

POP, crunch, crunch.

The sound of loud chewing broke Michael out of his thoughts. A little while ago he had made his way to the Icarus’ crew lounge to find it nearly empty. The on-board ship time was 21:30 hours so most were either at their shift or in bed.

Not him. A recent burst transmission from Alliance Command had reached them, and it contained more than software updates. The Center of Data Control took their extended mission into consideration and sent along a few petabytes of new literature,manuals, and star chart updates. Michael was happily reading a treatise by Lucretius Mesk on the vulnerabilities of Star Traveler Network reliance. That was until the chewing broke him out of his reverie.

Looking up, he saw across from him near the small viewport, a young woman with dark hair who was deeply engrossed in a compu-pad in front of her. There was an open bag of carrot sticks beside her; she twirled one of them between her fingers. Bridgette Bailey stuck it into her mouth and broke off a piece with a loud pop. In the silence of the room where only the random shifting of the Alcubierre warp field’s hum could be heard, the carrot sounded like a gun shot.

“Dear goddess, what are you eating?” demanded a voice from his right. Though the voice spoke standard, there was a distinct accent to it. “You sound like some Bashrok gnawing on bones, Bailey.”

Phasia Eshevet was not someone that most people missed. She was the only Xaltean woman aboard ship. Her dark black hair was cascading down her shoulders, and she wore a loose white top and skirt that Michael knew was called a tvekel by her people. He only saw her in it late in the evening when she was relaxing. It seemed her talk with Sinclair Barrett, their captain, had relieved any concerns she had.

Bridgette Bailey’s full saucer-like eyes were on the verge of panicking, but as soon as she saw who was speaking, they narrowed. Bridgette took another carrot out and bit into it, never breaking eye contact with the other. Phasia, herself, also narrowed her eyes at the action of the onboard linguist.

“Goddess! You're so annoying,” Phasia snarled, slamming her compu-pad down on the table.

“At least I’m not a slut.”

Bridgette must have meant to mutter the words under her breath, but the room had gotten inconveniently quiet as the star drive shifted the field again. The words reverberated through the lounge.

Phasia’s eyes narrowed; She stood from her seat slowly. “What did you call me?”

Michael instinctively wanted to intervene, but he resisted. Captain Sinclair Barrett had made it clear to him in one of their meetings that confrontations were going to happen to the crew and to allow them but make sure they didn’t get out of control. Michael was pretty sure Sinclair was referring to these two. Bridgette looked as if she was going to back away, but her blue eyes changed to one of resolving. She stood also and spoke with measured words.

“I said at least I’m not a slut.”

Phasia’s mouth dropped open. She closed it and folded her arms across her chest.

“How...how dare you.”

“How dare you!” Bridgette snarled back with a ferocity that Michael had never seen before. “You have belittled me and hounded me ever since we wound up on this ship together and I’m sick of it. I’m not going to let myself be pushed around by some whore who can’t keep her clothes on for a few minutes a day.”

What color Phasia had in her face drained away, and her shoulders slumped ever so slightly. A slight gleam came to her eyes. Bridgette opened her mouth to speak but closed it silently.

“I’d rather be a slut than some naive virgin who clings to a religious cult to feel important,” Phasia shot back.

Bridgette’s face colored but before she could say anything more, Michael decided it was time to stand.

“Save it,” Phasia told him as she scooped up her pad. “I was done here anyway.”

With that, the woman left the room, and Michael sat back down. Bridgette also did but could not get comfortable. After a few minutes, she made a half-hearted excuse and mumbled under her breath before leaving the room.

Michael sighed as he stared at the compu-pad that never left his hand. Interpersonal relationships were difficult to grasp for him.

“It was bound to happen.”

Michael looked up and saw the secondary entrance to the lounge that connected them to the galley. Sinclair stood there with his coffee leaning in the doorway. He sipped on it as if he hadn’t just seen two of his crew viciously attack each other.

“Nothing we could have done?”

“They’re the polar opposite,” Sinclair said coming over and sitting down across from his first officer. “Baily grew up in an extremely strict and conservative environment. She has never really experienced other cultures and peoples. She’s clinging on to what she knows as a semblance of stability.”

“And Phasia?” “Phasia is the antithesis of everything The Holy Innocentia and their Great Sheppard preach against. You know the three tenants of Celestianity?”

“Loyalty, purity, and austerity. Even I wound up in a few of their Sunday schools as a kid.”

Sinclair chuckled at that. “Phasia’s people are the exact opposite of the tenants. Our Xaltean crew mate sees Baily as a threat to her identity.”

“What do we do?”

Sinclair stopped for a few moments as he stared at his coffee then took another sip.

“We need them to learn and see each other as people and not the representation of evil. How do you feel about Phasia? Any worries?”

“No,” Michael said with a shrug. “I admit I had some of the preconceived notions and a concern she’d try to jump me in an empty corridor, but I have never seen someone work as hard as she does.”

“Her training won’t let her slack.”

“Training?”

“I can’t go into a lot of detail, “Sinclair said with a sigh. “But Phasia isn’t just some random Xaltean. She has been trained by a house.”

“Which?”

“Shova.”

“Ah.”

The elite artists of the Empire. Michael had seen some of their work, whether it be paintings, sculptures, woodwork, they were exceptional. That explained Phasia’s attention to detail.

“How about you stop by and check on her in a few minutes, Michael?” Sinclair suggested.

“And do what?”

“Lend an ear. Let her vent. I’ll check on Baily and see if I can’t guide her to be more…understanding.”

Michael looked down at his treatise. It didn’t seem that important anymore.

“You got it.”

© 2019 – 2024 by Jonathan J Snyder. All Rights Reserved

By Jonathan Snyder

It took every bit of self-control that Tova Bonavet had to not adjust her tvekel, the skirt wrapped around the lower half of her body for the twentieth time. She sat in the waiting room of Lady Yanatha Shiv, the leader of the Hope Renewed Estate and Ambassador to the Terran Confederacy. She could hear conversation and murmurs through the heavy wooden doors which were hand carved by artisans from the empire.

Tova knew what this was about. She knew that Princess Aevina Vaesh was the subject of the modulating tones and voices. Tova had chosen not to say anything about running into the woman while about New Chicago not expecting the woman to come flying over the gate with a Terran boy. Tova confessed everything to the Lady of the Estate before Baneth arrived and knew that once everything quieted down, there was a very good chance her butt was going to be whipped for hiding such an important fact. The dark look on Lady Shiv’s face when she confessed was familiar enough to know she was upset and disappointed. Tova knew she deserved it. She should never have kept her mouth shut.

Aevina always got her in trouble.

Why was she here now? That was the worst part about it. Tova knew that behind those doors, Yanatha and Baneth were speaking with the Triumvirate. Three High Barons of the Gray Council, powerful people in their own right and terrifying when together. Only the Empress could command them, which made their words unquestionable. There was a very good chance, she was going to receive her punishment in front of the three.

Tova’s face flushed with embarrassment. To be punished was one thing but to have it done in front of the Gray Council was a humiliation that she would never be able to live down. All the young dark-skinned woman could do was control her breathing and accept whatever was given to her.

The voices were raised again, and it sent a cold chill through her spine and she jumped in her seat as the door banged open. Lord Baneth, a handsome but terrifying man with scars on his face, strode past her with only one glance of annoyance. Lady Yanatha, her hair in thick black braids cascading down one shoulder, only took a few steps out and looked directly at her. Behind her, in the dim room, Tova could make out the glow of holo projectors still running.

“Tova.”

Tova quickly hurried to her feet, the adrenalin running through her almost making her trip over her own feet. She dipped a quick curtsey.

“Yes, My lady!”

“The High Barons wish to speak with you.”

The terror that shot through the young woman was so much worse. Now, she would have rather been stripped naked, placed on the altar, and exposed to the entire planet than to be interrogated by them. It was not her own reputation at stake now but that of Yanatha and House Brevet as a whole. One word from either of them to their own High Baron and Yanatha would be stripped of her position and so much worse for Tova.

“My lady…” Tova started but the sharp shake of Yanatha’s head silenced her.

Taking a deep breath and giving in and straightening her skirt, Tova walked in trying to be proud but humble to the three who kissed the hand of the Empress. The three holo projectors hummed softly having broken the images up to three distinct individuals.

In the center was a strong looking man wearing one of their traditional military uniforms like Baneth earlier. Though in his case, he was much more decorated, the medals and awards emblazoned on his chest. He wore a collection of kovek honors, Tova had never seen anyone wearing that many given by the royal family. When her own emerald eyes contacted his, he smiled gently which seemed to ease the tension in Tova’s heart. She could make out the sandy light brown hair from the cascading blue emitter and he gave her shallow bow.

Tova broke out in a deep blush and immediately fell to two both knees and prostrated herself in front of them with her arms out in front of her. The heavy door closed behind her as Tova kept her forehead against the cool marble floor.

“Rise, Maid Tova,” the gentle voice from the center hologram said and her head popped up surprised, but she slowly pulled herself to her feet. Tova had seen pictures of this man, the favored of the Empress. High Baron Hesh Avernell.

“My master! I am humbled you wish to speak to a simple maid as I,” Tova started trying to remember the proper salutations. She cursed herself for not asking the Emissary maid for the proper wording. She remembered that a maid, no matter the bonding referred to a High baron as Master but that was about it.

“Please,” Hesh said with a raise of his hand. “You are not in trouble. We need to gauge the situation that is at hand.”

“And Lady Shiv told us that you were aware of the presence of the Princess before her arrival at the Empress.” The other, harsher voice spoke. He was an older man with a white beard and as decorated as Avernell but the jagged cut of his uniform and hints of red told her who it was. High Baron Reklun of House Tavik. Baneth’s Lord.

“Reklun,” the one on the opposite side of Avernell said. A tone of warning in her voice. There was some sort of unspoken communication between the two but the other backed down. This one wore a tvekel like she did but of cut and splendor that made her own pale. High Baroness Ilesh of House Vanen was known to wear the same clothes as her servants to blend in with her household.

“Lady Shiv—-”

“You do not need to defend your lady,” Baron Avernell cut her off with a gentle smile. “She informed us that you confessed before the conference. We are not here to take any action against her. We need the truth from you with our questions.”

“Truth? I would never lie to you!” Tova said horrified at the prospect. It was at that moment a fourth form stepped in view. The young maid could not tell if it was, he or she but the familiar robe with red sash and a faceless mask covering their identity was unmistakable. An Inquisitor.

“Maid Tova, I am Inquisitor Kal. You are called to bear witness in this triumvirate. As is your right, you may request an adjudicator to assist you but in the expedience that our masters, the High Barons, need to decide, you and the members of the estate have been granted absolution for anything that comes out about the Princess of the Empire.”

Immunity. In a way, that was a relief as that meant her lady was protected as the inquisitor had absolved the estate. They were desperate for answers. Tova’s own morality surfaced, and she lowered her head.

“I will speak honestly and truthfully to the triumvirate, even without absolution. I swore to uphold the tenants even at the cost of my own stature. I will accept any punishment the Triumvirate deems necessary.”

Tova raised her head and saw the very quick smile from the central High Baron before he began.

“Tell me of the human who is with the Princess.”

“The princess was with two humans. Shiloh Jackson, who is the one who holds the bond but when she was out of apartment, she was escorted by a Larry Turner.”

“Tell me about him,” Hesh said with a nod of understanding. “What do you make of him?”

“He is an idiot,” Tova said before she policed her words and then she quickly bowed her head in apology and continued. “But shows affection for the princess though he keeps it to himself.”

“Affection? Does he treat her as property?” Hesh asked.

“What do you mean idiot? Is his stupidity a risk o the Princess’ life?” Reklun demanded.

“What do you mean keep to himself? Does he feign interest in the princess for some other reason?” Ilesh asked with concern in her voice.

Tova breathed in slowly pulling her thoughts together and then tried to speak.

“Larry Turner is a human male in his early twenties. When I say an idiot, I am referring to the idiocy of youth. He is optimistic and short sighted, but he does possess a self-awareness to protect those around him. He chose on his own to bring the princess to the embassy as he feared her falling into the hands of the Terran police force but short sighted in not asking the princess and thus bringing her to where she was not wanting to come.”

No questions followed that, so the young woman continued.

“He cares for the princess. He hides it behind a faux disdain but a few moments ago before the arrival of the Mistress of Blue Blossom, Larry Turner was willing to throw himself at my lord Baneth in what he thought was a way to protect her.”

“Futile gesture,” Reklun said amused. “Lord Baneth would not be felled by an untrained human.”

“I agree, My master,” Tova said making sure to stay official with him. “But I believe it speaks to his affection and care for her as he was willing to risk bodily harm in an unwinnable situation to protect her.”

There was a defiant upturn of Ilesh’s chin as if some point was made for her.

“How does he treat her?” the Baroness asked.

“He treats her well,” Tova said. “I do not wish to speak ill of the princess.”

“Maid Tova,” Hesh said cutting her off. “I appreciate your desire to maintain decorum but we three are well aware of Princess Aevina’s tendencies to be a dekek in the trousers. Please speak your mind.”

“Princess Aevina has not followed her contract as she should have. Sneaking out from her master’s abode without his permission to explore the city,” Tova started giving in and realizing she had to speak. “Larry Turner chose voluntarily to escort her for her protection and made sure she was safe. Even in a bar fight that she started a month or two ago.”

“I had a feeling that was her,” Hesh chuckled to himself.

“And Larry has not availed himself on the Princess sexually?” Ilesh said. “Her contract has removed her of the ability to decline her master.”

“Larry Turner is a gentleman that I believe the High Barons would find to be honorable to the level our people. I am confident that he would never avail himself of that clause due to his own integrity.”

“I.” Tova started. Well, it was time to confess everything.

“I wanted to understand what he was truly capable of. I asked a few of the maids to wear more revealing clothing around him and to also be more flirtatious so that. He never once crossed the line and touched a maid against her will with ample opportunity. He was even caught looking, blushed and called the maid pretty and quickly retreated to the other side of the room. It was amusing. He respects the autonomy of an individual even against the contract itself.”

“Maid Tova,” Hesh started and then stopped for a moment. “Would Larry Turner protect the life of the Princess at the cost of his own?”

The maid thought for a few moments and then nodded.

“Yes, My master. Larry Turner would protect the princess with his very life, even though he does not realize it.”

“Very well. Thank you for the truth, maid Tova. You are dismissed. Please ask your Lady if she would join us.”

Dropping to her knees and bowing low again in reverent respect, she backed out, not turning her backs to those who outranked her by so much. Outside she found Lady Yanatha sitting on one of the comfortable chairs with a glass of Vevek Wine with ice floating in it. One male and one female servant waiting at the door.

Yanatha raised an eyebrow, her dark eyes smoldering with fury.

“The High Barons ask for your company, My lady.” Tova said with her eyes properly looking at the floor.

Before the lady could move and ignoring the other maids that she outranked, Tova went to her knees in front of the sitting woman.

“I ask for your forgiveness,” Tova said with her head down.

“You were absolved by the Triumvirate,” Yanatha responded coldly.

“I do not wish their absolution. I wish the forgiveness of my lady for the position I put her in.” Tova said quickly.

There was a pause and Yanatha leaned forward, her breath against her ear so only the maid could hear. There was a bite of anger in it.

“Be careful of your choice, Tova.”

“I want the forgiveness of my lady,” Tova said again with certainty.

Yanatha laid a hand on her shoulder before standing up.

“When I’m done with you, you’re not going to be able to sit for a week.”

There was a ruffle of clothing as the Lady floated through the doors that slammed shut again. Tova stood and took her seat again knowing that she had given up the protections of the absolution. Tova did not care. Yanatha was the first to trust her and she wanted that back.

Yanatha was creative in her punishments and no matter what she had planned, it was worth it to get in her good graces again.

The pain would be proper absolution.

“Damn Aevina and the trouble she gets me into.”

© 2019 – 2024 by Jonathan J Snyder. All Rights Reserved

Though the corridor of space the Radiant Awakening was in had been contested for a while nobody had actually tried anything. The loosely affiliated group of stations and ships calling themselves the Wanderer’s Accord had claimed a few parsecs of Xaltean territory as their own which was promptly denied by the Empire. It had been quiet until now.

The Executive Engineer in charge of the entire ship’s engineering crew believed it was a gravitic mine hidden along the normal route ships were taken. He wasn’t sure if they were specifically targeted but the damage had knocked out their drive leaving them defenseless in real space. To say Ship Master Vylk Mas of House Nabeth was not happy would have been an understatement.

He sat in his seat in the center of the ship’s bridge surrounded by the floating hologram screens with the status of the vessel his House had entrusted to him. His First standing politely to the side, her jumpsuit perfect aquamarine color and hair in a bun giving her a beautiful but business look.

“Anything with long range communication?” Vylk asked leaning slightly to see between the holographs to the person working on said equipment.

“Negative, Ship master. Something in these asteroids are interfering with transmission. Maybe deposits of Nyrilium or other material.”

“First, anything from Executive Melk?”

“Nothing new. The core’s integrity is compromised from a cracked cross-node. We cannot return to null space until he figures a way to patch it.” She responded crisply as her eyes continued to watch the bridge and listen to the earpiece she wore. Helasia would funnel the information to him as he needed it.

Vylk rubbed his forehead in frustration. Could anything get worse?

“Ship master! Signals detecting dropping out of null space. They’re ahead of us. Interception in five minutes.”

Well that answered that.

“Scanners?”

“Still messed up from the mine detonation,” the officer responded back.

Helasia’s face grew tighter in frustration. “This feels more and more intentional, Shipmaster.”

Vylk nodded in agreement but so far, his options were limited. Without his primary power source, the primary pulse cannons were offline. They had been lucky enough to restore energy shielding earlier.

“We’re receiving a transmission,” the communications officer continued.

“Activate Channel. Tie into translators.”

“They’re transmitting in Xaltean.”

‘Oh. This is definitely a setup.’

“Xaltean vessel. This is Captain Junta Jor of the Black Pox,” the voice came over. There was a sneer in the sound of heavy imperial.

“This is Shipmaster Vylk Mas, Serene Starfall Estate, House Nabeth. What can I do for you, Captain?”

“Seems you’re having some issues with your ship,” he continued in a surprised tone that nobody believed.

“Nothing we can’t handle.”

“Well, we’d like to offer our assistance with our engineering teams.”

“No need. We have it under control.”

“I insist, Shipmaster. I’d hate for all of you to be stranded out here. Someone might take advantage of you.”

Vylk glanced towards Halesia who had brought up a holo-tactical map in front of her face. He didn’t need a report from her to know that the two other vessels were taking up flanking positions.

“Your concern is noted and appreciated but this vessel is sovereign territory of the Empire. I do not believe the Wanderer’s Accord wants to start creating waves with us now.”

There was silence for a few moments before the voice returned.

“Honestly, you look like salvage to me and in that case, we’re going to lay claim. You know. Law of space. Don’t worry, Shipmaster. Your crew will be well taken care of. Especially any women. We have great places for them that are safe.” The channel closed before Vylk could respond and he swore catching a few off-guard.

“This is the Shipmaster,” he said tapping the comm button. “All hands. Arm yourselves and prepare for hostile boarding parties.”

“We’re going to fight?” Helasia asked. “They’ve got us outnumbered.”

“I refuse to surrender this ship without a fight and let my crew fall in the hands of slavers.”

She nodded though her face had gone a bit pale, her grip tightening on her side arm.

On the viewscreen, the Black Pox maneuvered itself and the Xaltean captain could make out the dock clamp ports opening.

“Shipmaster! A new vessel just dropped out of null space,” the comm called out.

“ID?”

“The vessel is human. Duty Class destroyer. They’re…hailing.”

“Xaltean vessel. This is Captain Emilia Sanderson of the Cofederate starship Joshua Chamberlain. You appear to be having a party. You alright?”

“Captain,” Vylk responded. “We’ve lost our engines and the vessels around us have declined leaving as we requested.”

“Oh, have they now?” there was a three tone beep which confirmed they had opened a channel and added the others.

“Human vessel,” came the angry voice of the Black Pox captain. “You’re presence is not need. We have—”

“Listen buddy,” Captain Sanderson cut in, her light voice carrying an iron he hadn’t heard in humans before. “it’s high time for you to pack up and go back where you came from. I see those grapple hooks. If you don’t want me open fire, you better be jumping.”

“The Accord doesn’t—”

“I don’t give a shit about your Accord. I’m passing through delivering supplies back and forth between colonies like a mail man and both my crew and I are hella bored. I would appreciate nothing than to give them target practice.”

“You wouldn’t—-”

Helasia giggled and Vylk looked over to her. She whispered. “Humans have just started powering up their central rail gun. I’m detecting them heating their nighthawk missile racks.”

The humans were brash, ill-mannered, and loud but Vylk could now see the benefits of that.

“I’m not gonna even start counting, Captain whatever-your-name-is. As soon as my rail gun is charged. I’m shoving this tungsten steel shell up your ass.” The three would be raiders turned and their engines flared pushing them away.

“You still there, shipmaster?” the human called.

“I am.”

“Mind if we provide a tow? There’s a Terran repair facility nearby. They can take a look at your damage or if you’re not comfortable with that, you can park outside her cannons until your own help arrives. That way those assholes don’t try to pick on you again.”

“Greatly appreciated, Captain.”

Vylk laughed to himself as the connection ended. He had not anticipated being saved by humans of all things today.

This was going to be a funny story back at port.

© 2019 – 2024 by Jonathan J Snyder. All Rights Reserved

It was first the sound of the little red truffet chirping on the balcony of the maid dormitories that stirred Siv from her slumber. Her brain revolted at the thought of getting off her fluffy bedroll. Her naked body had sunk deep into the comfy fibers, snuggling her skin while she had her face buried into her cylindrical pillow.

The truffet called out again and this time its voice was mixed with the soft chiming of the morning bells singing out causing the rest of the maids to begin to stir. Siv lifted her head and forced her eyes open, the gentle morning sunlight dancing across the wooden floors. The room was about a thousand square feet without walls. Four other balconies lined the wall facing east. Though it might have looked haphazard, there were bunk beds, mats, bed rolls, and little tables and chairs setup in clusters for each orders of maids. On the north wall, was the line of shower heads and a raised marble step to keep the water in for the showers and the opposite wall had a line of cabinets and tables for breakfast.

Siv, herself was an Estate maid of the 3rd order for House Avernell and even being pretty ranked, she was still expected to sleep with the rest of the maids. Only the Head maids of the order received their own private room. Siv started awake again at the thought of Head Estate Maid Abiva and groaned knowing that there was no going back to sleep.

It was the breeze through the open balcony doors that stirred that satin curtains that made the Estate maid shiver. Her front half pressed down in the warm comfort of the bed roll was warm but her bare back and butt were covered in dew that had settled from the previous night thanks to the proximity. The variation in temperature caused her to shiver again and force herself up so her entire form was cold.

“Wake up, sleepy head,” Xion said as she walked up to where Siv was on all fours, her body locking up and protesting the cold ache of the morning.

“Go away, Xion,” Siv whined stretching like a cat and trying to force her back muscles to relax. “Abiva had me working in the woods all day moving fallen branches.”

Xion, the newest addition to the Estate maids having recently earned her 10th order position as an Estate maid giggled and offered a baked bread roll towards the other woman. The delicious aroma of fresh bread and spiced meat hit Siv like one of the branches she hadn’t paid attention too.

“I got you a kevet but if you want more you gonna have to race Nizzie,” Xion said with a smirk.

The mention of the troublesome little Harvester of the 6th Order with straw colored pigtails made the other woman jump up ignoring the popping of her joints and the ache in her back.

“If that little pain in the butt cheek eats all the eflen again, I’m going to spike her tymor oil with drakul sand,” Siv growled shoving the flaky meat pastry into her mouth and thinking where she could find the extremely itchy powder let over from a common burrowing insect on the planet Victory.

Grabbing her discarded zizuut wrap from where she had dropped it the night before and tossing it in the little hamper by the head of her bedroll, Siv rummaged through her unorganized foot locker for a clean tvekel while Xion used a cloth from her own pocket to wipe the dew from her friend’s back.

Grabbing the long, flowing dress of blue with a triumphant sound, she finished the rest of her meal and marched past the other maids as they prepared for the day. Some were still rummaging for clothes while others were already dressed, at their little tables in meeting or finishing a morning meal together. There were still a few asleep, more than likely on their day off the schedule. Siv counted in her head and she still had at least four more before her three days off. Dropping her clothes in a neat pile on the benches outside the shower space, she found her cubby, depressed her finger so the DNA sequencer recognized her and retrieved her soaps and creams. She only took a few paces to the nearest shower head, depressed the activate and then waved her hand in front of the sensor. Immediately a strong down pour of hot water arced out of the large shower head drenching her and washing away the morning dew and cold.

She began to scrub glancing only once at the clock to see she still had thirty minutes and that Nizzie hadn’t eaten all the food yet.

The advantages of the large shower head was that the spray allowed room for more than one. Before she had come to the Estate, Siv had been a private person but now, she didn’t care. So when a young man stepped into the shower head beside her, she shifted only slightly to give him more room.

“Good morning, Colleague Siv,” the tall man with dusky skin said. His hair was shaved close to to the side but still dark and curly on the top. Siv recognized the voice of Grel, one of the Harvesters from Nizzie’s group.

“Colleague Grel,” the estate maid responded glancing over to confirm she had been right. Her eyes met his dark ones and he gave a friendly smile as he scrubbed at his head. His chiseled chest and lean arms told her that he was a technician and was probably part of the construction battalion. With over two hundred and fifty maids in this massive room, it was common to recognize each other but that was about it.

Siv made sure not to allow her eyes to roam any lower than his stomach. She did not need that on her mind all day.

“Have your assignments?”

The estate maid shook her head causing the two tone blond and lavender hair to bounce around wetly. “Head Maid Abiva assigns them in the morning for my cohort. I’m just hoping I’m not back in the woods. I think I got bit a few times by those stupid tiktiks.”

“Head Maid Vandir wants me to lead the construction team for the rest of the week,” he said turning away to grab his soap before continuing. “The eastern landing pad needs re-enforced after the autumn storms last year. He doesn’t want to wait too long and give the concrete time to harden.”

“Sounds wise,” Siv said not understanding a single thing about construction. How to properly set the table when dealing with multiple houses was easy but understanding all the building terms was not.

“There’s a new play in town,” Grel said, his voice cautious. “at the communal theater in Belentine. Head Vandir gave me two passes. Would you be interested in attending with me?”

Siv started just slightly not expecting this handsome worker to ask her for her company for the evening. Having been so focused on mastering her 5th order duties had limited the amount of friends.

“I appreciate it, Grel, but my duties do not allow me to pursue the satin ribbon,” she responded trying to be gentle. He looked confused for only a moment and his red from the water becoming redder. “I beg forgiveness of the 5th order maid,” he said quickly dropping in to the placation used when one thought offense was made. “I only mean as comrades. My cohort prefers nights in the woods or on the river and I prefer more cultured and simpler fairs. Maid Xion suggested you may be interested in historical drama plays and I already pursing the ribbon with another maid so I shall not seek anything more than your company.”

Siv glanced at the giant wall clock and noted she had fifteen minutes left and Nizzie was making her way towards the last few pastries.

“How about a tentative yes?” Siv offered quickly washing off the last of the soap on her body. “I will need to ask Head Abiva if I may leave the premise with your pass. She has had me running extra duties this week.”

“Meet up at lunch in the cafeteria?” he offered. “You can let me know then if she’s alright with it?”

“Sure,” Siv said half focused on her and more focused at the fact that Nizzie was about to earn the Tarkul sand.

Toweling off haphazardly, throwing on the dress so that it covered her and draped across her breasts, and then cinching the belt around her waist, she quickly strode towards the woman in pigtails who had her short top on and work bottoms on.

“Touch that last eflen, Nizzie, and I’ll stuff jaklaws in your bedroll!” Siv bellowed.

Nizzie squeaked and fled. In triumph, Siv scooped up the last and bit into it was happiness.

© 2023 by Jonathan J Snyder

© 2019 – 2024 by Jonathan J Snyder. All Rights Reserved

By Jonathan J. Snyder

It was when the maid assigned to watch him was not looking that Henry Patton had slipped away. She was not actually there to watch him as she had been told to be ready for his commands but Henry could only take so much attention. Being the Lord of Blue Blossom Estate had its perks but there was always a servant only a few steps away.

Henry had been on the patio with a cup of tea when the girl had been distracted by an argument between two harvesters over something that happened in the field. Seizing the opportunity, he quietly made his way down the path and towards the forest.

Of course, Henry wasn't an idiot. He had run into Burdak, the Head Maid of the Scullery Cohort, and let him know where he was actually going with a promise to only tell Maevin Maer, his Mistress, if she became desperate. The only thing Henry wasn't sure about was the wink that came with the promise. Maevin would never actually scold him but he had seen the distress in her eyes when she lost track of him.

Sucking in a deep breath and letting it slowly out, Henry basked in the sunlight and breeze that tugged at his blond hair and clothes. The gentle sweet scent of the Vevet grapes being carried with the distinct bite of the forest trees.

From his place on the path, he could make out the lake in the distance and even farther the walls. From what Chief Tox Utivin once explained that the main house set in about 2 square miles was on quite a few square miles and within the tall walls of the compound.

On the little hill towards the gates, he could make out the massive walls in the far distance that encompassed all four hundred and sixty five square miles.

Henry was not actually going to leave the compound and explore the rest of the land. Maevin would smile and put a security detail on him for the rest of his life.

The gravel of the vehicle path that head for the roundabout in front of the Estate crunched under his boot. Henry spotted a walking path going into the cultivated woods.

“I haven't been there yet,” Henry thought to himself and stepped off the manicured path.

Immediately the air changed from the bright, sunny spring too a cool, wet breeze with the heavy sent of wood and grass. In the distance, he could hear the loud splashing of the creek that fed into the river and lake on the property.

The sun filtered through the thick foliage giving the world a magic feel. The pollen in the air sparkling like fairy dust. The taller grass and fallen leaves dampened the sound of his feet.

Ahead, Henry spotted a wooden bridge arcing gracefully over the creek, illuminated by a large beam of sunlight.

It was the tinkle of a voice that made Henry realize that he was not alone.

The young woman sat at the edge of the bridge kicking her feet as she sung to herself. In her hand she appeared to be knitting though the tools she had in her dark slender fingers only resembled what his mother used to do in the vaguest sense.

The woman's skin was bronze, her hair tight black curls. She wore a golden cloth draped down her waist that covered her lower body like a loin cloth, like many of the women he had encountered her, she wore no top. The woman's ample curves uncovered and highlight by the lights playing patterns as the wind moved.

Freezing and not wanting to disturb her, he tried to step back when a red bird fluttered out of the bush. She looked up, startled, and then tried to relax.

“I'm so sorry,” Henry quickly raising his hands in a gesture of calm. He spoke with a heavy Xaltean accent. Henry had been working hard with Yil, a maid who he had covered for a month ago, when she could get away from her chores.

Maevin had mentioned that the heads could speak Earth English but the majority of the rest could not. He vowed to learn their language.

“Oh!” She said surprised. Probably realizing who he was. More than likely from his bad grammar.

“I didn't mean to disturb you.”

“You have not, my lord,” she continued quickly setting aside her project, standing to face him and giving a bow of respect. “I was just surprised to see you here.”

Running the words through his head, he continued hoping he was getting it right.

“I was just strolling about and enjoying the quiet.”

The woman giggled. She spoke, this time in a lightly accented English.

“I apologize for laughing, Lord. You told me that you were trying to find a tree to eat.”

The blush that got put on his face due to her form, deepened from the embarrassment.

“Oh,” Henry said running his hand through his blond hair in his own language. “I'm still struggling with some of the syntax.”

“You are doing well for how little time you have been here. I hope you don't mind me practicing my Terran.” She continued.

“I'm Henry, by the way.” Of course she knew that, especially as the smile widened on her beautiful lips.

“I am Huseta. Emissary maid of the 4th order to Dulcet Sands Estate. House Neema.”

Henry's eyes widened. “Oh! You're not from here? Not House Avernell?”

She shook her head making her curls bounce.

“My house is pledged to your High Baron and his illustrious House, she continued.

“Oh, cool.” That sounded stupid. Henry had to say something more intelligent.

“So, what brings you to Victory?”

“I am training for promotion to the 3rd order.”

“And you're an...emissary maid?”

Henry had not heard of that but only recently he had learned there were a lot more positions on the estate than he had been introduced too.

Huseta easily continued. “I am training to become a specialist in hospitality so that I may support diplomatic and social functions with other houses. I'm on a type of...exchange program? If that's the right word. Mistress Maer has me assigned working with Head Maid Abiva to learn the more subtle skills.”

Okay. That made sense. Having barely survived his own tekiasetel or “Benevolent War” with the other houses on the planet and in the sector. In the whirlwind that turned out to be a very dangerous dinner, he had seen very sophisticated men and women serving and being present for their lords and ladies. They had to be the emissary maids. The only ones that Henry Patton saw with that level of sophistication was Abiva, Nish, and Maevin herself.

Henry snapped back to reality when he realized he was just staring at her though his eyes were a lot lower than he had meant. His face got the reddest than it had ever been.

“Oh! I'm sorry! I'm not staring, I was—–”

“Deep in thought,” Huseta finished with a graceful smile. “I assumed nothing else. There is a lot to learn.”

Desperate for something else to distract, the young man gestured towards her project that she had cast aside.

“What are you working on? Knitting?”

The young woman glanced over to what he was referring to. “It is called ikushet'ma. It is a type of hand weaving to make tapestries and koveks.”

She gestured to the band around her waist where the cloth hung only inches from the ground.

“I thought that was a zizuut,” he asked.

“Zizuut is for inside and like an undergarment. They are shorter. This is actually the lower half of a tvekel.” Huseta explained then pointed towards her top that lay by her work. “A kovek are these.”

She gripped a piece of fabric that was a thin, long rectangle that came to a point at the end. It was covered with the swirl and dot patterns he had seen as tattoos.

“They represent tokens of affection or reward in many houses. This blue one here was gifted to me by my Head Maid for stepping in to a bad situation with House Rikin and soothing the situation. This pink one is a token of my lover back on Xaltea.”

“Ah. The Letters of Familiarity?” Henry asked trying to remember.

“Yes and no. I am not bonded to my house so I do not need one but this does tell others that I am spoken for of my own free will. We call it \'pursuing the ribbon'.”

“They look beautiful...the ribbons. I am not that creative,” Henry said with a sigh at the beautiful fabric. “but I never really got to do much with my hands. It looks difficult.”

“Oh! It is not once you get the feel. Here!”

Before the young man could think, Huseta stepped forward with a bubble of excitement breaking her calm and gently gripped his sleeve and tugged him to the edge of the bridge. He found himself seated beside her and the fabric thrust into his hands.

Immediately, the woman went into the explanation of how to move the silken thread, gently gripping his hands and moving it in a pattern. The golden fabric began to move and take form and for the first time in awhile, Henry lost all sense of time as he focused on trying to make his lines as clean and tight as the ones she had made.

“Oh, you are doing very well, honored lord,” Huseta exclaimed as he held up his inch of added length to the sparkling sunlight.

“You don't have to lie to me,” The human lord laughed. Her face flickered for a moment before she correctly guessed he was joking.

“For someone who just learned, it is very well done. I would never compare you to the master artisans of House Devenek,” the girl assured him with a gentle smile.

“Ishli'al,” Henry said in Xaltean to thank her.

“et-ishli'al,” she responded.

Huseta's eyes roamed over his shoulder and he saw her look shift. It was almost imperceptible but he had been around long enough to pick it up. He quickly turned to look down the way he came.

Down a few yards on the path, he could make her blue outfit in the shade where she stood, hand on one of the light poles he had failed to notice that illuminated the path. Her long black tresses moving gently in the win.

“Maevin!” Henry said scrambling up. She stepped forward with a smile on her face and he was not sure if it was genuine or forced.

“Burdak told me that you went for a walk,” Maevin said. “I see you found the river and some company.”

“I apologize to the Mistress if I have caused any offense,” Huseta quickly said beginning to lower her eyes but the hand that was raised just enough from around Maevin's waist to calm her stopped the girl in her tracks.

“You are fine, Privileged Huseta. I am glad you had the opportunity to speak with Lord Henry. I have watched you and I am content in the training you have received from Head Maid Abiva,”

“Thank you, Mistress,” Huseta responded with a curtsy. Henry had heard enough of the social pleasantries to follow along.

“This place if very beautiful, Maevin,” he said trying to remember enough to be as polite. “I do apologize for not letting you know that I was going to check it out. I hope that I did not burden you with anything.”

The tug of a smile at the corner of her beautiful mouth told Henry he was on the right path. He couldn't accuse her of worrying over him, even if it was true, as it would make her look weak in front of the junior, but he did not want to dismiss her as if she meant nothing to him.

“There have been no issues. I came to find you to see if you would like lunch,” Maevin continued. She looked over to Huseta. “You are free to return to your day, Privileged Huseta. Please do not allow me to waste your time.”

She again curtseyed knowing she was being dismissed. Henry turned to the girl and smiled genuinely at her.

“Thanks for showing me that, Huseta. It was really cool. Maybe I'll see you around and you can show me how it comes out?”

Her face blushed and she stammered, eyes darting between him and the powerful woman behind him.

“You honor me, Lord. I shall enjoy the company of your estate and will...greet you if I see you again if I do not intrude.”

With a wave again, he turned and took his place beside Maevin as they began to walk.

“Yes?” Maevin asked the amusement now genuine on his face since Huseta could not see her anymore.

“She seemed nervous with that last part? I was trying to be polite.”

“You did quite well, my master,” Maevin explained, the mirth in her voice.

“But?”

“You spoke to a citizen outside our house by her personal name with no title and then invited her specifically to be with you outside of the normal decorum for your position.”

“Oh my god, Did I proposition her?!?!” Henry panicked looking back and already seeing her form farther down the path moving on towards destinations unknown.

Maevin's tinkling laugh echoed around him as the approached the path that lead to the road and the two soldiers and a hover vehicle waiting.

“If you mean invite her to bed? Not directly but let's say that invitation was one very personal.”

Henry climbed into the hover car and immediately buried his head in his arms. Maevin sat across from him as the hover vehicle lifted slightly turned and made his way back to the house.

“She understood what you mean, Master Henry,” Maevin said in the silence between the two and a gentle touch to his arm. “Hence her response. She promised to greet you, which means say hi if she sees you. It's a good middle ground for the offer you made. She will make an excellent emissary when she is placed.”

“So, I didn't screw everything up?”

Maevin shook her head, her curls bouncing. Her face had taken on a smooth, serene appearance though the mirth was still in her eyes.

“Of course not. You have shown so much kindness, it is hard for anyone to think you as anything else. Your reputation has proceeded you.”

Henry raised his head to look at her. “What?”

“We actually have had a raise in request for transfers and people wishing for positions as they've heard of your kindness and respect. You feel safe which is extremely hard for many Xalteans to understand,” Maevin continued to explain as the estate grew closer. “We've even had a rise in tourism from Belentine and a few other cities to get a glimpse at the saintly human.”

“Oh, god. Is that what they call me?”

“Among other very flowery titles. The citizens have now taken it a badge of pride to be under the auspices of Blue Blossom Estate and her lord.”

Henry laid his head back and stared up out the sky light of the vehicle. He didn't know what emotion was worse. Embarrassment from hitting on a girl or being considered some sort of saint.

“Let's have lunch,” Maevin said and that was that.

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