Kalin's Story
It was a half hour before dawn when Kalin awoke. The pain had subsided enough to allow him to sit up slowly, then stand. He ached and found walking difficult, but possible. "This way, Friend," instructed one of Kalin's roommates.
He followed them, walking as quickly as his protesting muscles would allow. The slaves were gathered in a large group, where breakfast was being handed out.
Hard bread and water. Kalin grimaced but choked it down, grateful for the water which soothed his throat. The overseer appeared minutes later, and the slaves followed their morning routine of forming several lines and preparing to follow into the fields. Kalin enviously watched a group, mostly women, who turned and made their way towards the house.
"You - boy!" the overseer yelled, yanking Kalin's gaze back towards the group he was joining. "You're with them today. In the kitchen." He jerked his hand towards the women. "The Master wants you where he can keep an eye on you."
Kalin nodded, then lurched after the ladies. He was relieved at being able to avoid the fields, but extremely suspicious - this was a reward, not a punishment, and he'd seen no signs of Elthis' wanting to reward him for anything. However, he was also fairly sure that he'd rather be in the house, even if there was a darker reason for it.
At least inside, I'll be able to steal a decent meal, he told himself.
[OPENING CREDITS]
Episode 2: The Blond Brat
Kalin found the kitchen by following the ladies - and the hectic sounds of desperation, coming from an unprepared cook. He slipped inside without being noticed, and observed everything that was going on.
Which wasn't very much. A blond girl, probably a year or so younger than he was, was trying to direct four other slaves in preparation for the household's breakfast. She was almost completely ineffective, as the slaves were blatantly ignoring her. Most of them were also munching on whatever food they'd managed to pick up. Kalin helped himself to an apple that was sitting on a counter top, and regarded the blond girl with a dull curiosity.
She wore a simple, pale orange dress and sandals. Her hair was almost perfectly straight, and was so long she could have sat on it with no problem. It was blond, and the light of the rising sun gleaming off it made him squint to see the details of her face.
He managed to make them out, and then murmured a swear word under his breath. The girl who was attempting to hand out directions was the same girl who had gotten him in so much trouble several days ago. She bore an obvious resemblance to Elthis, which Kalin decided meant she was his daughter. So that explains what I'm doing in the house instead of the fields, assuming she recognized me, he thought, tossing the apple core into a trash basket.
The sound seemed to alert the girl to his presence. "You," she said softly. He shrugged. "Please, please, you have to help me..."
"It seems I've helped you before," he answered smoothly. She nodded hopefully. "An event that ended with me near death - twice."
She stared at him in shock and disappointment, and he shrugged. "I image the Warrior will be wanting to break his fast soon. You should probably start cooking," he continued.
"I can't!" she wailed, despairingly. "I'm supposed to be supervising this and no one will listen to me!"
"Well, that'll happen, I guess," he shrugged, leaning against the counter and starting in on another apple.
"You- you're not supposed to be eating that..." she tried. He shrugged and continued munching. She turned away from him in frustration, and began to hand out threats to the gossiping slaves. None of them did any good, and breakfast continued to go uncooked.
Kalin was well into his third slice of heavily buttered bread when someone began bellowing from the dining hall. The girl's lip quivered and it was fairly clear she was biting back tears of worry. "SERISSA!" came the yell again.
She focused her gaze on the floor ahead of her and slowly made her way into the dining hall, where the noise was emanating from. Full of curiosity, Kalin followed at a safe distance and listened at the door.
What he heard was Warrior Elthis, being exceedingly cruel to his daughter. "Useless," was among the kinder things he called her, and Kalin found himself sympathetic to the blond girl. However, insults were nothing compared the what followed.
Kalin winced at the sound of the blows; four of them that reduced the already crying Serissa to screams of pain. He treats her like he treats me, Kalin reflected as the Warrior finished his punishment. If somewhat gentler. I suppose rank does have its privileges.
He heard footsteps running towards the door and stepped aside in time for it to swing open. Serissa ran through the kitchen, tears falling from her face and bruises forming on her shoulders and back. She exited through a second door and vanished into a hall.
Kalin glanced at the other slaves, who watched apathetically. "Does that happen often?" he asked. His answer was a nod and affirmative mumble. "Will someone be looking for us soon?" A negative mumble. "Then I'm out of here."
The slave grabbed another piece of fruit and headed out the hallway Serissa had exited through, wandering aimlessly. He found himself in what must have been the servant's quarters, then saw a door with a symbol he recognized above. It was the sign of a Healer.
Kalin listened at the door for a moment, decided no one was inside, and gently pushed the door open. He found a large room with numerous chairs, a large desk and three floor-to-ceiling cabinets along the back wall. After making his way to the cabinets, Kalin found only one of them unlocked, and looked through the contents for something he might find useful.
What he found was a small jar with a screw-on lid and a white cream inside. It smelled of mint, and Kalin recognized the scent as a salve Healers used to take the pain out of aching muscles and bruises. It was something he was desperately in need of, and if the previous day was any indication, its need would only grow as time went on.
Tucking it in to his shirt, the slave-turned-thief exited the room as silently as he'd entered. The hallway was quiet and Kalin found very little of interest, until he turned a corner and found what he assumed to be where Warrior's family lived. Almost no one was around and those who saw him assumed he had a reason for being there, so Kalin wandered the hall freely.
What eventually attracted his attention was the sound of someone trying her hardest to stop crying. It was a noise he was familiar with, one he heard younger slaves make frequently - one he'd made himself on more than one occasion. Kalin assumed it was Serissa, and followed the sound to a door which was open a crack.
He gently pushed it the rest of the way open and stepped inside, observing the lady. She was sprawled on her bed, her hair cascading down her back. Her face was buried in her arms, which were in turn buried in her pillows. Her back was heaving with each breath and the effort to stop crying.
Kalin cleared his throat, wondering what he was doing there and why he felt so sorry for the daughter of the man who'd inflicted so much pain on him. Serissa sat up abruptly, glaring at him through tear-soaked lashes. "You..." she whispered. "Go away!"
He shrugged. "I came to help," he said. Which was a lie, he'd come out of curiosity, but saw no reason why he shouldn't help - having the Warrior's daughter in debt to him couldn't be a bad thing.
She turned away from him, and he made his way farther into the room. "I have some Healing salve. It'll take away some of the pain," he offered. "If you like." Serissa didn't reply. "It works quite well, I'm living proof." Nothing in response. "If you want it, you'll have to let me put some on your back. I can see there are bruises."
"If... If you must..." she said finally, trying to conjure up the superiority a Lady was supposed to have when addressing a slave. Kalin perched on her bed, unscrewed the ointment's cap, and applied a generous portion to the parts of her shoulders that he could see.
"I'd do the rest, but something tells me it would be inappropriate," he said, meaning the portion that was below her dress. She nodded, and turned back around to face him.
"Why did you come here?" she asked. He shrugged.
"Sympathy. Your father did quite a lot of that to me last night; I know how it feels. I just don't know..."
"Don't know what?" she demanded.
"I just don't know why a Warrior would want to beat his daughter like that. You'd think he has enough slaves to take frustration out on that he wouldn't need to use his daughter." Kalin had no idea how she'd respond to this, and was startled when she burst in to tears.
"H-he hates me!" she managed to say between gulps of air. "H-he wanted a-a son, and m-my mother died a-and I'm all he g-got!" Kalin nodded sympathetically. "H-He wants me t-to run the h-household, but I d-don't know h-how and no one will l-listen to me!"
"I noticed that much," Kalin said. "You just don't appear very threatening."
That did nothing to stop the frantic wails of the young Noblewoman.
"I'm always getting in trouble," she said when the fit of tears had passed. "Always because they won't do anything I tell them. Sundancer bless, they're supposed to be slaves! If they'd do one single thing I told them, maybe I could go a week without getting punished!" Her tears had turned to fury at the slaves who ignored her so blatantly. "I - I should beat them all."
That was one statement Kalin wouldn't tolerate. "If that's how you feel, I'll be going," he muttered, standing.
He hadn't walked more than four steps towards the door when Serissa called, "Wait!" after him.
"Why should I?" he demanded, looking back over his shoulder. "I get hurt quite enough, thank you - I don't need to waste my time with someone else who'd beat helpless people. I thought maybe you were better than that."
"But... But..." she tried, as Kalin started towards the door again. "They're not any more helpless than I am!"
That truly enraged the rebel. He turned and snarled at the self-pitying girl, "But you have the power to change that, don't you? You have a fucking name." He exited the room, slamming the door behind him, and could hear Serissa's wails of frustration mixed with anger and self-pity from her room as he stomped back towards the kitchen.
He was half-way there when he remembered he'd left the ointment on Serissa's bed, and debated going back for it. He decided against, thinking, She'll probably need it before I will. And that pathetic wretch is free while I'm a slave. Goddess save me, I swear I'll strangle her if she comes back to the kitchen...
[EYECATCH]
"Serissa." Warrior Elthis' voice was devoid of any warmth as he half-spat the name of his daughter. She cowered, not knowing what was coming, but terrified she'd be in trouble for something. Her bruises still ached from the previous day's episode at breakfast, and her father had been in a rotten mood all day.
Kalin watched the scene from across the kitchen, although he was seemingly at work peeling potatoes. He'd assumed that Elthis rarely ever set foot in the kitchens, and rarely spoke to his daughter when she wasn't in his way, and thus assumed that whatever he was planning to talk to her about was worth hearing.
Blackmail wasn't pretty, but it could work wonders, Kalin had learned.
"I am taking a trip for several weeks. Several Warriors will accompany me; as will you." He didn't ask her if she wanted to come, he didn't offer her a choice at all. Like nearly everything the Warrior said, this was an order. "We will be staying in a lodge when we aren't hunting, you will see to meals and the like."
"Y-yes, Sir," Serissa stammered. Her first reaction was relief that she was safe from her father's temper at the moment, however, after that passed she began to panic. Serissa knew full well she was incapable of cooking a meal on her own, let alone dealing with the entire lodge. And she'd have no one to blame when things got messed up, which would make things very painful for her in the long run. I should ask if I can bring some help, she thought, but wasn't brave enough to speak up.
As it turned out, she didn't have to. "You, boy!" Elthis snarled to Kalin, who looked up in alarm.
He'd been watching from the corner of his eye, but hadn't guessed he'd be addressed. His alarm, if not the respect in his response, was genuine. "Uh... Me, Sir?" he asked.
"You will accompany us as well, to aid Serissa. I have a bet to win." He gave Kalin a smile that was not, in any way, pleasant. "If you so much as breathe wrong, you'll regret it."
"Of course, Sir," Kalin replied, doing his best to sound pleased. Elthis nodded curtly to his daughter, turned and left the kitchen. Kalin waited several seconds, then slammed the knife down on the counter and muttered a curse word.
Serissa smiled to herself. This wouldn't be good for the slave, she reasoned, but it would be useful to her. Assuming that he was actually scared of her father...
* * *
The trip to the Warrior's mountain lodge took three days. Their party consisted of Elthis and Serissa, four younger Warriors, and Kalin. They were riding, which was not pleasant for Serissa or for Kalin. Serissa was very delicate, and, although she could ride fairly well, didn't enjoy it and wasn't used to it for longer than brief trips.
Kalin had it even worse. He hadn't been on a horse since before the slavers had taken him, better than nine years. If he'd known how to ride once, he'd forgotten; by the end of the first day, he was almost too sore to move. He passed the painful time in the saddle wishing he was more experienced so he could take one of the dozens of opportunities to run off.
At night, the group would pitch tents. The Warriors used two tents and Serissa had her own; Kalin was ignored in the sleeping arrangements and ended up sleeping outside. At first, he'd thought this would present another chance to escape while the rest of the group was asleep, but to his dismay, he found that the Warriors set up a watch every night. Not to watch him- at least, not officially- but to keep the fire going and watch for any possible dangers.
Meals were cooked over a fire, and apparently, Elthis wasn't dumb enough to trust his daughter to cook over the flames. Kalin was the lucky one who ended up with burnt fingers and hands, and in return, he got scraps that the Warriors rejected.
Kalin was extremely relieved when they arrived at the small wooden lodge around dusk on the third day. Elthis announced that the Warriors were going to be leaving for a hunting trip the next morning, and would be gone for several days - all he and Serissa had to do was clean the lodge and have a meal waiting for the Warriors' return.
He began his chores with something that resembled cheer to the optimistic, but anyone who knew him would have known he was planning something. Elthis could sense it, and on his way out added, "The penalty for attempting to escape is usually death, boy, but in your case we could come up with something much more painful."
"Yes, Sir," Kalin replied, imitating the younger Warriors, and accompanying his response with a mock salute. In answer, the back of Elthis' hand cracked across his face, leaving a line of blood trailing from his nose.
After the Warriors' departure, Kalin worked the rest of the morning without any complaint, biding time until he assumed it would be safe to escape. In fact, he worked so quietly that Serissa began to talk to fill up the void of silence. At first, it was just orders- "sweep the floor," and "wash out the stove." However, she gradually began to speak of other things.
"I suppose you're still disgusted with me for... For that morning?" she asked after half an hour of senseless babble.
Kalin answered her with a dirty look before returning to work.
"So you are. I don't see why you should be, after all, you're a slave boy and I'm a Lady. It only makes sense that you're supposed to follow orders, and I'm supposed to punish you if you disobey."
"Really." Kalin did his best not to lose his temper, concentrating very hard on the floor he was scrubbing while she sat and watched.
"Well... Yes. That's the way things work," she explained.
He stood up, and threw the rag he'd been using to her feet in disgust. "If that was the way things worked," he asked with snobbery in his voice, "then what were you crying about? You can scrub the floors yourself for all I care. I'm leaving."
He turned and made for the door, pleased with the stammering noises Serissa was making. The slave half-expected her to break in to tears, but wasn't surprised when she yelled "Wait!" instead.
"Why?" he asked, slowing his pace but not stopping or turning around.
"I... I'm just so... "
"Helpless? Useless? Hopeless?" he supplied when she seemed to have trailed off.
"Nevermind, you wouldn't understand!" she shrieked, and now the turrets of tears came. She turned and ran for the room she was using, and he heard her door slam.
"I probably wouldn't," he mused to himself, reaching the door and resting his fingers on the brass knob. She is helpless, he thought as one of her agonized wails reached his ears. He tried to ignore it, tried not to picture her the way she'd seemed when he had first entered her room - crying, hurt, and no better off than he himself.
And despite his attempts, his resolve crumbled. Now he wasn't picturing her lying there, crying, he was seeing himself, almost ten years ago. He'd been seven years old when the slavers came, and destroyed everything he'd ever loved. His mother had been a Knight, and she'd been killed in the fight against the invaders. He'd been with his father, a Priest, in their temple. It had been set on fire, and his father refused to leave until everyone else was out safely.
He'd never made it out at all, Kalin had realized as one of the slavers grabbed him. He'd died saving others, and so had his mother. They'd left him alone, and the slavers had made him...
"Helpless," he murmured aloud. "Goddess damn her."
Kalin sighed, his had dropping from the doorknob. He hated himself, and he hated her for it, but he wasn't going to leave. He couldn't leave anyone as utterly unable to help herself as Serissa, it just seemed wrong, no matter how much he detested her.
He paused in the kitchen to make a sandwich, pour a glass of juice, and bang his head in to a wall a few times. I don't even like her. I'm insane, I'm an idiot, I'm never going to have a chance this good again... But, despite his thoughts, he found himself walking into her room, setting the meal on a table, and waiting for her to notice him.
"You!" she said in shock. "I thought you'd run away."
He shrugged.
"Why did you stay?" she demanded next. He shrugged again. "It... It wasn't for me, was it?" She asked hesitantly, although hopefully.
Kalin felt another pang of sympathy for her, realizing that chances were than no one had ever had done something nice for her before. At least, I had people who cared about me. She's never had anyone... "It might have been," he admitted calmly.
"Wh-why?" she answered, barely daring to ask. Her eyes looked up at him from where she was now sitting, perched on her bed, with a ray or hope dimly shining through them.
"You wouldn't understand," he answered smugly, but then let the smugness fade to a relatively kind smile. She nodded.
"You.. You said that...That I had to power to change being so-" she took a deep breath before saying the word- "so helpless. Did you mean that?"
She actually listened to me, he thought, semi-surprised. "Yeah," he answered.
"How?" she asked. He shrugged. "I mean... Can you help me, boy?"
That was enough to render Kalin speechless. Ladies, particularly brainless, useless ones, did not ask slaves for help. They didn't listen to slaves. They didn't care if a slave yelled at them... And then there was Serissa.
When he found his voice, Kalin answered, "I... I guess so. I'll try."
She smiled back at him then, and for just a moment, she didn't appear to be a spoiled girl who'd just finished crying. She was a woman, and a woman with a beautiful smile at that. "Thank you, boy."
"Kalin," he corrected. "I'll help you, but we're doing it on my terms. And the first rule is, my name is Kalin."
[CLOSING CREDITS]