I've slowly been working on this story for about a year now (Google Drive says it was created on or before July 14, 2012), and for a variety of reasons kept tweaking it and poking and prodding at it but never actually finishing it. It still isn't finished, of course, but I've decided I want to experiment with how I tell the later parts of the story, and because this segment of the story is capable of standing on its own, I'm going to be releasing this first part now, and then adding to it as I complete more of it.
The events in this story take place sometime around the beginning of this year. This first part is told from the perspective of a minor character originally created by Reppy. The girl does have a name, but I'm deliberately keeping most names out of this portion of the story - most people will still know who is who if they think about it a little.
Speechless
It was dark when she woke up. That, of course, was nothing new to her, and she liked things that way. With fewer people wandering around, it was easier for her to focus on her chores and get them done quickly without distractions or interruptions. In fact, only one person was ever up and about before she was - the middle-aged woman in charge of the kitchens.
She laid there staring into the darkness for a few moments, then sat up and swung her feet off of the bed and onto the cool stone floor. Reaching blindly over to her right, she grabbed a folded towel and the fresh change of clothes she had left out the night before on a small chair; after doing the same thing day in and day out for a number of years the location of that chair had been burned into her muscles by routine. Tucking things under one arm, she got up and walked to the shower and washroom in the silent darkness, careful not to wake anyone else.
The shower was brief - she never needed more than a couple minutes to clean up because she rarely did anything that would qualify as "dirty" work - but more than long enough for her to go over the list of things she had to do that morning. It was, admittedly, an unusually short list; instead of being responsible for half of the upstairs bedrooms, she only had to look at two of the guest rooms. Someone else would take care of the other six.
When she was done and dressed, she padded her way back through the dark room and dropped her old clothing into a hamper at the foot of her bed after hanging the towel up on the back of the chair. She slipped on her shoes, then made her way out of the room and headed upstairs to the main part of the house.
The stairway came out on one side of the main hall's large, ornate staircase through a door that to the casual observer looked like it was just part of the wall. Gently closing the door behind her, she made her way around to the dining room and through a similar door into the kitchen, where the older woman was already busy at work. She looked up at the girl's entrance, catching the movement out of the corner of her eye, and gave her a pleasant smile.
"Good morning, dear. Your breakfast's over there."
The girl gave her a grin and walked over to the small table where a bowl of steaming soup and a glass of water sat waiting. She sat down and pulled the bowl closer, starting to eat. At this hour, the kitchen was rarely too warm - it could even be considered cold some days - so the warmth of the soup felt good as it ran down her throat.. She sat there for several minutes, happy to eat her breakfast in silence.
"Is it hot enough today?" came the voice of the older woman from the other end of the kitchen. She was looking over at her from the counter where she was busily chopping up vegetables. The girl nodded back in response.
"Good to hear. Let me know if you want more."
The girl nodded again, returning her attention to the soup. It was mostly broth, but it also contained small diced pieces of vegetables and cooked meat. Or, at least, she assumed it was cooked meat. She couldn't really be sure, because she couldn't taste it. She hadn't really tasted anything in years - and the reason for that was an old and unpleasant memory.
She was completely mute. Long ago, when she and her family had been taken by slavers, in reaction to some perceived slight - possibly simply that she used to sing to herself to try and keep her spirits up - one of them had taken the trouble to silence her by removing her tongue and vocal cords. He had not intended for her to die, merely to break her spirit; and so she had survived thanks to the medical facilities that the slavers had had nearby. When she was sold to an old Khanid woman named Vara, her inability to speak had been looked at as a benefit; if a slave was meant to be rarely seen and even more rarely heard, surely one without the ability to speak at all was an ideal specimen.
Vara had agreed with this logic and had eagerly purchased the girl on the spot, quickly assigning her to tasks that she wanted done quickly and quietly, without any fuss. This had continued for several years until, after the loss of the two of her four children that she considered genuine members of the family - the other two had, effectively, been written off as disowned for various reasons - Vara committed suicide. Luckily, one of those two disowned children returned and after an extensive legal battle, regained control of the family holdings; her arrival had been met with mixed feelings by most of the slaves in the house, but after a few months only a few still "supported" Vara - that is, were inclined to cause trouble for their new mistress because they didn't like the way things were being run - and were eventually released.
Not sold to another Holder. Released - set free. It was, in some ways, a mixed blessing entirely dependent on the manner in which it was done. Slaves released in the Kingdom or Empire at large still needed work, and without a good reference from your previous Holder, finding that work was going to be difficult. Certainly you were free and no longer beholden to anyone but yourself - but without that good review and work history from the Holder, you were not likely to find work that didn't involve returning to slavery, and you certainly weren't going to be able to afford to move elsewhere.
Fortunately for her, she happened to like the changes that the daughter’s return had brought to the household. Things were better for everyone in the house this way, as she saw it. There was a lot less yelling, the atmosphere was noticeably more relaxed and people just seemed happier. Things ran smoothly, and while the Lady was not always the most approachable of people, other people had come with her, and they usually were.
She finished her soup, and after drinking the glass of water, brought the bowl and glass to the older woman, who had finished chopping the vegetables and was now giving them a second wash. The woman gave her a smile, then after setting the bowl and glass in a sink to be washed later, shooed her out of the kitchen.
--
It only took her about two hours to finish cleaning the two guest rooms. They hadn't been used lately, so the majority of that time was spent dusting and watering plants - both tasks easy enough that she decided to take her time rather than push through at her usual speed. Of course, this still left her with nothing to do for the day, so she put away the cleaning equipment in one of the storage chambers, and wandered down the hall into the library.
It was a big library, filled with hundreds, maybe thousands of books - actual books made of paper, unlike the electronic form one would typically find in the major cities of the region - and probably one of her favorite places to be. Even though it was one of the best-kept rooms in the entire estate, it was also at the same time one of the least-frequented: the only people who spent any time in it, aside from her, were the Lady and her friends, family and guests, which meant that it was a good place to go if she was done with her work and needed some peace and quiet.
Making her way to one of the shelves, and taking a moment to scan the titles on on display, she reached up and pulled down a small volume on some of the local wildlife. She’d read it several times before - while Vara had discouraged her and the others from reading, the Lady was different; though she did not actively encourage it, her lack of disapproval didn’t discourage it either, and so it was not uncommon to see one or two servants with a book during their spare time.
She took the book over toward the study that was attached to the library, where there were several comfortable chairs near a fireplace that was kept lit through most of the year. The sound of a turning page made her pause as she entered the room. Someone else was there already. She turned to leave, but a voice called out quietly and she stopped in her tracks. It was the Lady.
“Yes?”
The girl turned back and moved beside the chair the Lady was sitting in. She had a large book open on her lap; judging by one of the images on the open pages, a book on wine-making. She offered the girl a kind smile.
“Hello, dear,” she said. “Did you need me for something?”
The girl shook her head, and held up the book she’d taken from the shelf barely a minute or two before. The response was a small nod.
“Are you ready for your trip?”
She nodded emphatically, then put the book down on a nearby stand; her hands now free, she responded with a series of quick gestures.
Yes. I packed last night before bed.The Lady nodded again, giving the girl a small, conspiratorial grin, her golden-brown eyes lighting up with mischief. “Good. I think your chaperone is still asleep. Feel free to go wake her up.”
The girl frowned.
It’s almost noon and we’re supposed to leave in a few hours. Shouldn’t she be up already?“Of course she
should be up already,” the Lady replied with a laugh. "She was up pretty late last night, though. But that shouldn't stop you from going and waking her up. And don’t be gentle if she gives you any trouble!” She winked, then nodded towards the book that the girl had been carrying.
“Go ahead and pack a few more to take with you if you want," she added. You’ll have lots of time for reading.”
The girl smiled, gesturing an
I will, thanks! before bowing to the Lady and leaving the library, book tucked under her arm.
--
Her destination was at the end of the hallway, marked by an ornately-decorated pair of wooden doors. She took a breath, then knocked twice. She waited for a minute, but no response came. She rolled her eyes to herself, sighing, and knocked again, this time rapping the door in a pattern: four quick taps, followed by the shortest of pauses, then a single tap, then three more taps. It took a moment, but she eventually heard a muffled groan, and carefully opened the door, slipping inside and closing the door behind her.
The master bedroom was even more ornate than the doors outside; elegantly carved wooden furniture, a large fireplace with a fur rug, a number of paintings, a large walk-in closet, and another ornate door leading into a bathroom filled out the decorations. But the centerpiece - or at least the girl's objective - was the very sizable, and very intricately designed four-poster bed resting against the center of the wall opposite the doorway.
There was a lump on top of the bed covered by a tangle of sheets and quilts; a single foot poked out from underneath the tangle near the foot of the bed. The girl pushed aside a number of datapads that had been scattered across the surface of a nearby desk and set down her book, then moved over to the bed, kneeling down by the protruding appendage. She wiggled her fingers a little, thinking a moment, then gently tickled the exposed sole.
An irritated grunt came from the lump under the sheets, and the foot jerked away. The girl grinned to herself, then did it again. This time she got real results.
The foot jerked under the sheets out of reach, and a brown-haired woman sat up, muttering. "What is it?" she said tiredly, rubbing her eyes with one hand as she held the sheets to herself with the other.
The girl peeked her head up over the edge of the bed and smiled, waving a little. She lifted her other hand and made a few gestures.
I was told to wake you up. It's almost noon already! The woman looked at her for a moment, blinking, then mouthed a silent "Oh." The girl gave her a flat, unimpressed look.
You forgot, didn't you.The woman shook her head. "No, no, I didn't, I just didn't get a lot of sleep last night," she said, reaching up with her free hand and brushing a few strands of hair out of her face. "I um, had a lot of work to get done before I could sleep." The girl didn't look convinced.
Really.The woman sighed and rolled her eyes, shifting awkwardly as she adjusted the sheet. "Alright, fine. Are you packed already?" The girl nodded in response, looking at her expectantly as she gestured.
Yes. Are you?The woman picked up a pillow and tossed it at her lightly. The girl snatched the pillow out of the air and tossed it back to land next to her half-awake assailant, grinning. "No,” the woman sighed, letting go of the sheet as she extricated herself from the tangled mess, swinging her legs off of the side of the bed and standing up slowly. “Go find something to do for a bit while I get ready." She covered a yawn with one hand, then padded quietly into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
The girl watched silently as the woman disappeared. Then, as the door to the bathroom clicked shut and sounds of running water began coming from the other side, without even noticing what she was doing, she began making the bed and tidying the room. She had just begun cleaning the desk, straightening out and sorting the stack of datapads when she heard the soft sound of singing coming from the bathroom as well. The words were too muffled to hear, but the notes themselves came through clearly enough that she recognized the tune and stopped what she was doing to listen for a few moments.
The singing eventually stopped, and with it the running water, causing the girl to snap out of her reverie. She hastily stacked the rest of the datapads, then picked up her book and started for the door so that she would be gone before the woman returned.
A single, warm tear rolled down her cheek as she closed the decorated door behind her.
It wasn’t one of sadness.
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Topic: Speechless (Read 1367 times)