anger as she bent down to gather up the food and re-tie the apron corners securely. Thessalina turned and pushed open the heavy keep door. The flickering firelight from the hearth within briefly limned Thessalina’s form with a red glow, turning her shape into something demonic. As the door swung shut on her cousin, Jelena lifted her finger in an obscene gesture, knowing that she crouched just out of range of the slice of light spilling from the doorway, and thus was shielded from any consequences of her small act of defiance.
For as long as Jelena could remember, Thessalina’s animosity towards her had been consistent and unrelenting, and because of her lowly status, there had been little she could do to deflect it or protect herself from it. As she started off again towards the servants’ quarters, the food bundle hugged tight against her breasts, she swore that tonight would be the last time she would stand and take any kind of abuse from anyone.
If I can’t find my father, or if I do and he doesn’t want me, I’ll go off and find a cave somewhere and live alone. I don’t care, just as long as I can choose how to run my own life.
I’m done being a slave!
Chapter 8
Escape And Awakening
There was not much to pack. She had very few possessions—the ivory combs that had been her mother’s, her father’s ring, a small bone-handled knife, a finely made leather pouch that had been a gift from Magnes. Almost all of her meager wardrobe would be left behind, for Jelena fled Amsara this night disguised as a boy. Magnes had provided the tunic, jerkin, leggings, and boots. He’d also found her an old leather cap that she could wear, but only if she sheared off much of her mane beforehand.
Claudia sat on the edge of her bed, watching Jelena and weeping silently as the snick snick of the shears filled the little room with the sound of finality, of the inevitability of separation and loss.
Jelena clipped one last lock, then laid aside the shears and brushed the loose hair from her head. Critically, she examined her raggedly cropped coils in the tiny piece of mirror. She swallowed hard as the reflection of a stranger stared back at her, a young woman with almond-shaped eyes, high cheekbones, and bluntly pointed ears. She felt like she was seeing herself—not looking at, but truly seeing —for the first time.
Will I look like an elf to my father’s people, or a human, she wondered, or will they look at me like almost everyone at Amsara does, with contempt because I am neither?
“ All o’ yer beautiful hair, all over the floor!” Claudia sobbed, wringing her hands in grief.
Jelena smiled gently. “You have complained my whole life about how difficult my hair is to deal with. Well, now it’ll be much easier. See?” She pulled the cap over her head with a small flourish. “How do I look?”
“ Like my baby who’s about to leave me forever,” Claudia replied tearfully. Jelena sat beside her foster mother and allowed Claudia to enfold her against the ample cushion of her bosom. Neither of them spoke for many moments. There was just too much to say, and yet nothing to be said. Both of them knew that this was the way things had to be.
Finally, Claudia pushed Jelena away and dried her eyes on the sleeve of her chemise. “You’d better get goin’. Yer cousin’s waitin’ on ye.”
Jelena nodded silently, and rose to gather up her things.
“ Oh! I’d plumb fergot!” Claudia exclaimed. She reached into a fold of her apron and drew out the strand of blue Kara glass beads that Jelena had worn to the ill-fated Sansa feast. She pressed the necklace into Jelena’s hands.
“ Heartmother, I couldn’t possibly…These were a gift to you from the duchess!” Jelena protested.
She tried to return the necklace, but Claudia’s hands fluttered away like fat, featherless birds. “No, no, child. I want you t’ have ‘em. Besides, what’s an old woman like me goin’ t’do with such things, eh?”
“ I’ll
For as long as Jelena could remember, Thessalina’s animosity towards her had been consistent and unrelenting, and because of her lowly status, there had been little she could do to deflect it or protect herself from it. As she started off again towards the servants’ quarters, the food bundle hugged tight against her breasts, she swore that tonight would be the last time she would stand and take any kind of abuse from anyone.
If I can’t find my father, or if I do and he doesn’t want me, I’ll go off and find a cave somewhere and live alone. I don’t care, just as long as I can choose how to run my own life.
I’m done being a slave!
Chapter 8
Escape And Awakening
There was not much to pack. She had very few possessions—the ivory combs that had been her mother’s, her father’s ring, a small bone-handled knife, a finely made leather pouch that had been a gift from Magnes. Almost all of her meager wardrobe would be left behind, for Jelena fled Amsara this night disguised as a boy. Magnes had provided the tunic, jerkin, leggings, and boots. He’d also found her an old leather cap that she could wear, but only if she sheared off much of her mane beforehand.
Claudia sat on the edge of her bed, watching Jelena and weeping silently as the snick snick of the shears filled the little room with the sound of finality, of the inevitability of separation and loss.
Jelena clipped one last lock, then laid aside the shears and brushed the loose hair from her head. Critically, she examined her raggedly cropped coils in the tiny piece of mirror. She swallowed hard as the reflection of a stranger stared back at her, a young woman with almond-shaped eyes, high cheekbones, and bluntly pointed ears. She felt like she was seeing herself—not looking at, but truly seeing —for the first time.
Will I look like an elf to my father’s people, or a human, she wondered, or will they look at me like almost everyone at Amsara does, with contempt because I am neither?
“ All o’ yer beautiful hair, all over the floor!” Claudia sobbed, wringing her hands in grief.
Jelena smiled gently. “You have complained my whole life about how difficult my hair is to deal with. Well, now it’ll be much easier. See?” She pulled the cap over her head with a small flourish. “How do I look?”
“ Like my baby who’s about to leave me forever,” Claudia replied tearfully. Jelena sat beside her foster mother and allowed Claudia to enfold her against the ample cushion of her bosom. Neither of them spoke for many moments. There was just too much to say, and yet nothing to be said. Both of them knew that this was the way things had to be.
Finally, Claudia pushed Jelena away and dried her eyes on the sleeve of her chemise. “You’d better get goin’. Yer cousin’s waitin’ on ye.”
Jelena nodded silently, and rose to gather up her things.
“ Oh! I’d plumb fergot!” Claudia exclaimed. She reached into a fold of her apron and drew out the strand of blue Kara glass beads that Jelena had worn to the ill-fated Sansa feast. She pressed the necklace into Jelena’s hands.
“ Heartmother, I couldn’t possibly…These were a gift to you from the duchess!” Jelena protested.
She tried to return the necklace, but Claudia’s hands fluttered away like fat, featherless birds. “No, no, child. I want you t’ have ‘em. Besides, what’s an old woman like me goin’ t’do with such things, eh?”
“ I’ll
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